Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings (6 page)

She was left alone. Again, the heat left the room, and she felt a sense of loss and worry. Something was wrong. Her stomach pitched, and she felt nauseous. Rose couldn’t fathom the sudden anxiousness that rose within her. Worry for Draven began to grow. Shaking her head, she waited for someone to come back and get her. The goons from before appeared at the doorway and nodded to her.

“Time to go,” Mr. Black said.

All she could do was follow them, wondering what had happened to cause Draven to call that many people to his office.
Has to be something bad.

Chapter Four

Draven paced in his office, gritting his teeth. The predatory instinct to hunt and tear something apart pushed at his civilized veneer. His blood boiled. First, he was informed that they had found a body. Now he was being pulled away from Rose again; this time they’d found two more, all with bite wounds similar to a vampire’s. His fists clenched. The urge to punch something grew by the second. He looked around the room and took in each person gathered around the conference table.

“I want answers and I want them now. I expect to get a call from the Council any minute demanding some sort of answer. What the fuck am I supposed to tell them? Yeah, I have a rogue vampire on the loose, feeding on humans, and I have no leads whatsoever. That’s just asking for them to send someone to check on me and police this town themselves.” Draven grunted, hating that he felt helpless.

“Sir, this could be a move against you. Have you thought of that?” Jagger pointed out.

“Of course. I’ve upped the protection around those I care about.” His thoughts drifted to Rose, wondering if two security officers were enough. The idea that she wouldn’t be safe made him physically ill. Pushing that aside, he focused on the task at hand. “What did the coroner say?”

“The victims died of exsanguinations via the puncture marks on the neck. They look like bite marks, but he’s not sure. Said the entry wounds were too jagged, not smooth like most vampire bites. Also, the wounds were bleached clean of DNA and the bodies washed of anything that might link them back to the sick freak responsible. The victims are two females and one male. No evidence of sexual activity, either. Witnesses around the areas say they’ve never seen them before. The clothing was all generic; tags were ripped off, but we’re having the fibers analyzed to see if they can tell what social strata they’re from. We’ve checked the in-town database; no pings yet, but we’ll keep looking,” Police Chief and top alpha werewolf, Torger, rattled off.

Draven clenched his jaw. He didn’t like it. His stomach rolled in disgust. “No leads. Nothing.”

The shrill ring of the phone filled the air, and he swore. “The fucking Council is summoning me. Why do I feel like I’d rather face an hour of watching television white screen rather than listen to them berate me?”

With a sigh, he ducked around the desk and answered the call. “Draven, speaking. How may I be of service today, Councilman?”

The voice on the other end was a graveled one, so deep it was almost hard to hear his words clearly. “Draven, we’ve been informed of three deaths, human to be exact. Explanation?”

He hated the dry tone to the man’s voice, as if he was talking about the weather instead of the loss of three lives. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound as distant. “It appears to be the work of a rogue vampire, but there is nothing definite. I’ll have the coroner send over her findings.”

“Fine. We’re looking forward to having this wrapped up quickly. May God bless you. I pray this isn’t the work of a vampire, truly I do.” With that parting, the Councilman hung up, leaving Draven with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Asshole. The Council doesn’t want God to bless us. They think we’re all demons from Hell who deserve to be put down.” After slamming the receiver onto the cradle, he turned back to the people assembled in the room. “Move quickly. We need answers before they send a Fixer. Once their person is on the ground, there’ll be more bloodshed. They don’t give a fuck who gets hurt so long as the end justifies the means.”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his people. After digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he hit speed dial and waited for the other end to be picked up. “Did she make it home okay? Any problems?”

“No, sir. She’s fine,” Flavio murmured.

“Good, I’ll be over in a few minutes.” The craving to connect with someone outside of politics started in his gut and moved up to his chest. He wanted to hold her, reassure himself that she was fine. They’d known each other a short time, yet he felt tied to her, enjoyed the verbal sparring and her defiance of him. A smile quirked his lips when he remembered walking into the room when Ileana had been there. It had felt right to have her by his side. Now, he wanted that connection and to continue the dinner that had been interrupted.

“Sir, should we set up a perimeter? Call more security?” Flavio asked.

“No, you two should be good for now. I’ll pick up some food on the way. Don’t tell her I’m coming. I want it to be a surprise.” Draven hung up the phone before Flavio could protest.

He wondered what she’d answer the door in. Lingerie? Pajamas? Or maybe just her underwear. Either way he didn’t care. Whatever she wore, he was sure she’d look sexy in it. His blood heated, and the remnants of need from their interaction earlier surfaced. An ache began in his gums as his fangs descended, poking his bottom lip. Marshalling his control, he pushed away the desire to feed and grabbed his jacket.

Once he left the office, he extended his aura outward searching for any possible threats. There were no signs of life, human life that is. A cat padded delicately across the lawn. The sharp cry of a hawk pierced the night’s calm. He felt a sense of peace descend on him. Night was his time. Their time. This was when the supernatural creatures were at their height of power. They owned this moment of the day.

A howl filled the air, followed by others. A glance up at the moon showed it wasn’t full yet.

He headed for his car, continuing to keep an eye out. His security detail moved silently around him to form a large circle. They wouldn’t interfere with his plans; Hamilcar wouldn’t allow that. The tattoo on his forearm burned, the link he used to call forth his black dragon, head of security. It rippled against his skin, and he sucked in a breath. Fire seeped up his arm raising goose bumps in its wake.

Hamilcar appeared before him, as usual, swathed from head to toe in black. “Did you need me?”

“No, just remembering you have my back. Any word?” Draven felt stupid having this discussion standing on the front steps leading up to the Mayor’s office, but he wanted to make sure that there would be no interruptions once he was with Rose.

“None. We’re working as fast as we can on this.” Hamilcar bowed his head.

“Thank you. If at all possible, I don’t want anyone to disturb me, understand?” He waited, knowing he was asking for the impossible.

“We shall try, sir, but there is nothing to guarantee that something won’t happen.”

With a sigh, he nodded. “I know.”

Hamilcar disappeared into the night, and Draven headed for his car. He offered up a prayer to whatever gods were listening to let him have this moment with Rose. After a few stops at some of his favorite restaurants that were still open, he had gathered a small feast of meats, cheeses and wine, with a chocolate pie for dessert. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her apartment building, checking the address on his iPhone again to make sure he had it right. Flavio met him in the parking garage.

“Sir, I really wish you’d requested her presence at your home. This is unsafe and ill-advised.” Flavio took off his glasses; neon green eyes flashed for a second before the sunglasses covered them again.

Draven shrugged. “I want to see her.”

“You’re making her more of a target than she already is,” he pointed out.

“I know.” He sighed. “I just…I want to see her. Make sure she’s okay with my own eyes. Connect with her.”

He looked up at Flavio, who nodded. “I understand that. It’s just, well, this is really fucked up with that person on the loose. Want to keep her safe? Take her out of town to the lake house or back to your place.”

Draven smiled at his friend, and one of his most trusted security officers. “Later, when she trusts me more. For now, I need to see her.”

“If I didn’t know any better—”

“Don’t start.”

He made his way around Flavio and took the stairs, the bottle of wine rattling with each step. By the time he reached her apartment, his stomach growled with hunger after having missed dinner. Dieter, the other security guard assigned to Rose, nodded. “Sir, I hear movement and music, an opera of some kind.”

“Thank you.” He knocked and checked the time on his watch; it was half past eleven. He didn’t doubt Rose would be pissed to find him here.

When the door opened, he found her standing there still in her green dress, shoes off and hair falling around her shoulders like a cloud of curls. Her make-up had been wiped away. She looked even more beautiful than before. His stomach tightened as hunger gnawed at his gut. Liquid heat seeped down to his groin, filling his cock. Thick with blood, the shaft lengthened and thickened, pressing against his fly. He bit down on his lip, shoving back the growing need. Unable to speak, he held up his bags.

“Wanted to have dinner with you.” His voice croaked. Horrified, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I brought dinner. I know I sent some food home with you, but I’d like to pick up where we left off.”

She giggled. Rose’s demeanor was much more relaxed now. Her eyes were glassy. He peered at her and sniffed the air. The scent of his best wine floated between them. A peek around her showed one of his bottles sitting on the floor next to the remnants of dinner.

“You’ve already eaten, um…” He glanced down at the bags in his hand. “I’m late.”

For the first time he wasn’t sure how to proceed with a woman.

“Come in. We can eat the, um…” She leaned down and poked around the bags. “The pie. We can have that. Your chef gave me a bottle of wine, said it was in apology.”

Draven made a mental note to thank her. With a grin, he nodded. “Wonderful. How much wine have you had?”

She gave him a dreamy smile. “Enough to be buzzed.”

Worry filled him. He would have preferred her clearheaded. For a moment, he considered turning around and leaving, letting her sleep it off, yet something tugged at him to stay.

“I’m not drunk.” She poked him in the chest.

He laughed. “I think you’re tipsy.”

She waved off his comment. “Not even close, and don’t think this means I’ve let down my guard. Now, are you going to stand in the hallway all night? What if one of my neighbors opens their door and peeks out? How are you going to explain it?”

Her eyebrow rose in question, which made him smile. “Fine, since you insisted.”

Rose stepped back, but he didn’t move.

“You have to invite me in.” He lifted his free hand and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed about that little hitch. Watching her eyes widen was amusing, until she pursed her lips.

“That’s true? So, I could just take the bags of food and leave you standing there? Interesting.” The old spark was back. She looked more aware.

He held back a grin, looking forward to what she was going to do with this information. When she crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts pushed up. He could see the clear outline of her nipples pressing against the fabric. A soft, musky scent drifted between them.
She’s thinking naughty thoughts.

“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours? Thinking bad thoughts about me?” He tried to act as nonchalant as she was. Draven lifted his arms to mimic her pose. The bags swung back and forth with only one arm resting against his chest.