Midnight Blues (7 page)

“You want more?” he rasped, driving into her with the full force of the passion she had released. “Take all of it. All of me, Daniela.”

Dani drew him down until his cheek pressed to her temple, and sank her own blunt teeth into the side of his strong neck. She kissed the marks she left, panting against them as her spine bowed and her orgasm flooded through her, wrenching a low cry from her that went on and on until Rafael covered her mouth with his own and gathered her up into his arms, holding her as he followed.

A thousand years later, Rafael lifted his head and stared down at her as if he didn’t recognize her. “What have we done?”

“It was a dream. We were dreaming.” Her hands shook as she held onto him, all of the old doubts chased away by new ones. “Weren’t we?”

T
he sun crossed from morning to afternoon skies before Rafael woke. Daniela lay in his arms, so deeply asleep that she did not stir when he extracted himself from the warm softness of their embrace. A wedge of sunshine from a gap in the curtains played over her, displaying everything he remembered from the night: the pale golden skin, high firm breasts, and silky hair that poured from her scalp over the pillows in dark streams, fringed the faint shadows of her eyelids, and cupped her mound in a tangle of delicate curls.

Rafael knew it hadn’t been a dream. He could still feel her moving under him. He could still taste her on his lips.

After he secured her, he pulled on his trousers and went to wash and think of how and why he had done this to her. He had been drawn to her from the moment he first saw her, stepping out into the moonlight. He had also recognized her youth, and heard the tremors of fear in her voice. He did not seduce innocent, frightened human females; when he wanted sex he sought out a mature, experienced woman who understood mutual pleasure and spent one night with her. Anything more than that was not possible.

He had not been Daniela’s first, that much was a comfort. She had enough knowledge of a man’s needs not to be frightened of them, as a virgin would be. That and her body had welcomed his completely, with no discomfort or awkwardness. Still, there had been moments when he had felt her react to his love-making as if she had never experienced the like. Perhaps her other lovers had been inept.

There will be no other lovers
. Rafael swept his hair back from his face with an impatient hand.
She will have me
.

Was he seriously thinking about taking a human as his lover? As Lucan had once planned to do with Samantha? Or was it because Donatien pursued her, Donatien wanted her?

I’m not what you think I am
.

It had taken years for Rafael to accept what he had done in Richard’s name. He should have known that something was wrong from the moment the high lord had given him that case of rare, exquisite cognac mixed with blood as a gift to the Marquis.
To help ease his pain in his last days
, Richard had said. Never mentioning that it had been aged in old copper vats.

Donatien must have known. Rafael had brought a bottle to the asylum each time he called on the Marquis in his private suite. He could still see him sipping the lethal blood brandy, smiling with pleasure. The fine particles of copper would have burned his insides as he swallowed, would have made his gut feel as if it were on fire. Yet the Marquis had said nothing, drinking one bottle after another each night. The same nights he had tried to seduce Rafael.

He could still feel the touch of Donatien’s hands, as gentle and curious as a young girl’s.
Give yourself to me, my night angel, and I will take you to places that you have never been
.

Rafael had never desired men, but nothing on this earth had been as beautiful or seductive as Donatien.

“I hate to ask a stupid question,” his partner said from where she stood in the doorway, “but why is there a naked nun handcuffed to your bed?”

“She is not a nun. Please be quiet, Samantha. She is sleeping.” Rafael shrugged into a shirt as he walked out of the bathroom, went to close the bedroom door, and moved on to his weapons cabinet. “The handcuffs are merely a precaution. I don’t want her to run away again.”

“Kidnapping victims have a way of doing that. We call it escaping their captor.” Samantha propped her arm across the cabinet, prevented him from opening it. “Uncuff her, Rafael. Lie to her. Tell her you had too much to drink, and that it was all a terrible mistake. Then give her cab fare and send her back to the convent. And pray she’s into forgiveness in a big way.”

“I cannot send her back.” He glanced at the bedroom, wondering if their voices would disturb her. After what they had shared in and out of the dream, when she woke she might feel disoriented, even frightened. His own guilt had been gnawing steadily at him. What had she done to him? “Daniela is different. She is like us.”

Her expression turned skeptical. “You’re telling me that she’s a
vampire
nun?”

“No, she’s human, but she was… it is complicated.” He was not even sure what Daniela was, only that she could heal with a touch, and that Donatien would stop at nothing to have her. Of that much he was certain. “She is in grave danger.”

“Like you aren’t?” She opened her jacket and tapped the butt of her pistol. “Guess who replaced all my ammunition with copper rounds last night? Want to play target and let me find out how well they work?”

Rafael knew she wouldn’t shoot him, but thought it prudent to dispel some of her anger all the same. “Samantha, I have to protect her. The man who is hunting her is the same one who killed the man at the convent. He is—”

“Not a man, and not particularly sane. He was Kyn, but got himself tossed in the nuthouse after he slaughtered a few too many humans, where he went genuinely nuts and poisoned himself by eating copper, and then rose a second time. No one knows what he’s capable of, but he scares the shit out of everyone, even Lucan.” She nodded at his startled look. “Yep. I know all about the Marquis now, Rafael.”

Despite Lucan’s orders, someone had told Samantha about Donatien. There wouldn’t be a window left intact in the city. “I regret that you were not told about him,” he said, playing diplomat, “but it changes nothing. Daniela must stay with me.”

Samantha breathed in as if to shout, and then wrinkled her nose. “What is that
smell
? God, it’s getting on my nerves more than you are.” She paced around the room. “Have you started smoking?”

“No.” Rafael’s head was still filled with Dani, whose scent still painted his skin. “I am rarely here. Likely it is exhaust fumes from the street outside the building.”

“Close the windows, then, because it’s really—” Samantha came to an abrupt stop and squatted, touching a spot on the burgundy carpet. “There’s blood here.” She flushed as a vision came over her. “Oh, don’t tell me you
fed
on her, too?”

“I was not thinking clearly.” Obviously. “I promise you, I did not harm her.”

“Great. It’ll all be in her blood, and really, the
last
thing I want to watch in my head is pornography starring you and the nun. Jesus, I’m going to hell just for saying that.” She stood and strode into the kitchen, but stopped short of the sink. “Rafael.”

“I told you before, she is not a nun.” He holstered his gun and took out the spare he carried along with a box of copper rounds. “I never intended for it to happen. It simply did.”

“Rafael, this isn’t hers.”

“It must have been the dream. I think she took me back to where she lived, in Argentina.” He was almost sure of it. “We went to an underground compound—some sort of medical research facility—”

“Rafael,” Samantha said, very patiently, “I’d love to hear about your dreams all day, but this blood on my hand isn’t Daniela’s. I think it belongs to the decapitated head sitting in your sink.”

He didn’t believe her, not until he saw it for himself. It was indeed a human head, that of a young woman with blonde hair. Garish jack-o-lantern earrings dangled from her lobes while her clouded eyes stared up at him, wide and terrified. Her mouth formed an unnatural, ghastly smile. The head had been placed so neatly in his sink that its fluids dripped directly into the open drain.

“Trick-or-treat,” Samantha muttered.

“Someone must have broken in and put it here while I slept,” he said. The decapitation, he saw from the condition of the neck stump, had been performed precisely and cleanly, with a perfectly level blade. “Can you tell where she was killed?”

Samantha placed her hand, scarred in the center palm from the bullet of a hired killer, into the small amount of blood rimming the drain. Her pupils narrowed to splinters of black, and a flush rose from her neck to race up her cheeks.

“Hanging blade, torture room,” Samantha said in a distant monotone. “Darkness. Walking down a narrow hallway. Darkness, wait, she keeps zoning out. Redhead in a maroon dress. Ugly pierced guy grinning. Darkness. Table, brown haired man. Hand on her hand and… oh, my God.” Her face white now, she snatched her hand out of the sink and scrubbed at it with a towel. “Is that what he does? He makes them feel those things? Relive them? Want them? What?”

Rafael thought of Daniela and how completely she had given herself to him. “What did you smell before?”

“Who was this girl?” she countered. “Why did he kill her and bring her head to your apartment?”

“I am trying to find out,” he said through clenched teeth. “What did you smell?”

“Something gross, like an overflowing ashtray. Or Evan Tenderson. But I repeat myself.” Her mobile phone beeped, and it seemed to calm her as she answered it. “Brown.” She listened.

Rafael quickly searched the apartment, but found nothing and no one hiding in it. He went back to Samantha.

“Ten minutes,” she said as she ended one call and made another.

“What now?”

“Bad news.” Into the phone, she said, “Burke? It’s Sam. I need you to send some guys over here to Rafael’s place. To move the kidnapped nun I’m not supposed to know about to a safer place so the nutcase zombie vampire you’re not supposed to tell me about doesn’t kill her. There’s also a decapitated head in the sink. I’d appreciate it.” She switched off the phone. “Pack it up. We’ve got work to do.”

He didn’t wish to leave Daniela in the care of others. “Samantha—”

“Donatien hung the other part of this girl in front of Club Dominion. He left a note addressed to you. He wrote it in blood on the torso.” She tossed her keys to him. “I’ll wait with her until the men get here. You get down to the club before Tenderson does, read the message, and then get rid of it.”

Dani woke up to the smell of hot coffee, and found Detective Brown unlocking the handcuffs binding her wrists to Rafael’s head board. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying not to think of ways to off my partner.” She tossed the cuffs aside and checked Daniela’s arms, which were still somewhat bruised, and chafed her wrists. “I’m so sorry about this, Ms. Nieves.”

“It’s Dani. Don’t be upset, Detective, please. I’m not.” She smiled a little, thinking of the night she’d shared with Rafael. “I guess I should tell you that I’m not really a nun.”

“Rafael mentioned it a couple dozen times. I can’t say I’m not relieved.” Green eyes crinkled with a genuine smile. “Call me Sam.”

She looked over Samantha’s shoulder. “Where is Rafael?”

“I kicked him out to go do some work.” Samantha began gathering Dani’s clothes, which were scattered all around the bed. “I need you to get dressed. We’re going to move you to a safer place, keep you there until we can catch this guy.”

“Donatien is coming for me,” Dani told her bluntly. “I’m the one he wants.”

“Well, he can’t have you.” She straightened and sniffed the air. “Do you smoke?”

Dani could smell it, too. She had smelled it before, in the village, in the compound, in the jungle.
The dead fires
.

“It’s him. He’s here.” She jolted out of the bed, grabbed her clothes from Sam and began dressing frantically.

“Easy, honey,” Sam said. “Rafael searched the apartment before he left; there’s no one here.”

Dani shoved her feet into her shoes and then heard something moving in the ceiling. “You have to hide,” she whispered, dragging Sam toward the closet. “Don’t make any sound.”

“Waste of time,” Sam said, staring up.

Cold air poured into the room as a beautiful man dressed in sky-blue velvet lowered himself into the room from a gap in the ceiling panels. The ageless face had not changed, nor had the perfect proportions of his long, lean body. From the pristine suede of his shoes to the gentle waves of his caramel-colored hair, he might have been a living work of art.

“No.” Dani shoved Samantha behind her. “My—my lord, it is you.”

“At long last, we meet again, my pearl.” His lovely tenor seemed to make the air quiver. “I must say, you have not made my pursuit a leisurely one.” He eyed Samantha with interest. “Do introduce me to this delicious-looking Amazon.”

“I’m the woman who’s about to kick your ass,” Sam replied, drawing her weapon.

Donatien produced a smile so heart-breaking that Dani gasped. “Beautiful, spirited,
and
armed. Delightful.”

Dani reached out to him. “She is nothing, no one. I will come with you, my lord, and do whatever you want. Only leave her.”

“Shut up, Dani,” Sam snapped, aiming for Donatien’s heart.

“Of course you will, my pearl. That was never in doubt.” He approached Samantha, ignoring her warnings and smiling until she fired three times. “Now, dearest, someone should have told you about my fondness for copper.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out the flattened rounds, one by one, as if they had come from a pocket instead of the wall of his chest. “I’ve acquired something of a tolerance for it since the last time I died, so shooting me will only make holes in my jacket.” He caught Samantha in mid-lunge and lifted her by the throat with one hand, pressing his other to her abdomen.

“No,” Dani begged. “Not to her.”

Donatien ignored her to whisper against Samantha’s ear. “Such painful old wounds, Detective. And you, allergic to morphine. How you must have suffered.”