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Authors: Patricia A. Rasey

Viper (11 page)

BOOK: Viper
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“You think that’s a wise move, Viper? Maybe we should have taken this to church and voted on it. I’m not so sure we would have all agreed to an alliance with the Knights.”

Kane steeled his jaw and glared at the Sons’ secretary. “You want to take it to a vote, Blondy? Then call the meeting when we get back. End result will be the same because it’s a good business deal. We get money for doing nothing other than looking the other way. And, when I’m ready to bring them in, it couldn’t hurt having a few extra eyes looking for this son of a bitch trying to take us down.”

Without waiting for a response, he pushed the start on his bike. The sound deftly ended any argument his men might have. Kicking the centerstand up, he made a wide arc in the parking lot, then headed for town, hoping none of his brothers followed. First thing tomorrow, he’d make a trip to the Sheriff’s Office to talk to the sheriff about their new business venture. But for now, he needed to see for himself that Cara was safe before heading for the clubhouse, calling it a night.

Kane glanced up, noting the cresting sun. He’d best hurry if he hoped to catch Cara.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Cara awoke with a start, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. Her stomach lodged in her throat, cutting off a steady a breath. Blinking, she focused on her surroundings. What the hell had she been dreaming to cause such hysteria? Her mouth tasted dry as dirt and her sheets wrapped her legs tighter than a mummy. Kicking her legs free, she swung them over the side of the bed and peered out the window as the sun slipped over the horizon, lending an eerie glow to her room.

Just a dream.

Tears stung the back of her eyes. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the nightmare other than the complete sense of loss and panic as she awoke in a tangled mess of bedding. Cara scrubbed both hands down her face, grateful that something had roused her.

The remnants of sleep hung heavy, making her sluggish. Cara rubbed her eyes, hoping to dislodge the fogginess clouding her brain. Standing, she crossed the carpeted floor to the window, curtains billowing in the breeze. Cara brushed them aside and looked across the dew-misted lawn. Footprints disturbed the wet blades, heading in a direct path to and from her opened window. Large footprints at that. A sense of unease washed over her. Since her bedroom was located on the second story, surely no one could have gained access to her room. The rest of the house had been locked up tight.

Kane’s words haunted her.
Whoever came here means to kill you.

Cara didn’t want to admit as much, but Kane had scared the bejesus out of her. What if someone really did want her dead? Someone like Kane. Black eyes and elongated white teeth … a shiver passed over her spine. She wrapped her arms about her middle, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than she ever had. Cara couldn’t help thinking that the three dead women, as Joe pointed out, looked very much like herself. If what Kane had warned her about was true, then there wasn’t anyone strong enough to stop this psycho from following through with his threat. Cara’s fear shook her to the core. Although for years she had mocked the very existence of what stood before her, less than twenty-four hours ago Kane had proven the reality of it.

Vampires.

The epithet alone made her tremble. Maybe she didn’t fear Kane. But what about the others? The threat on her mirror proved they weren’t all like him. Some were blood-thirsty killers. Some would stop at nothing to get the one thing they desired: human blood. And it appeared one of them had put a big red target on her back.

Suzi came to mind as she left the Rave two nights prior, hanging on Kane’s arm and none to glad to see Cara. She couldn’t help thinking her friend was somehow a part of all this nonsense as a tiny vial of blood hung from her throat that she never seemed to be without. Cara wondered at its significance. Did Suzi know of vampires’ existence? Was she part of some underground culture, a den of real-life vampires?

Maybe Cara needed to put the past to rest and pay Suzi a visit, see what she knew about Kane and his brothers. Cara planned to find out the truth, whether she wanted it or not.

Her life might just depend on it.

As she looked back out the window, a brown smudge on the frame caught her attention. Fresh dirt marred the painted sill. Cara ran a finger over the brown soil, noting the freshness of the mark. How the hell was that possible? She didn’t even have a trellis leading up to her window on the second floor. Yet the someone who had trekked from the woods behind her house, leaving a trail in the dewy grass, had been at her window. Cara went to pop out the screen so she could get a better look, when she noticed that someone had already popped it out and hadn’t fully reseated it in the track.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Cara knelt in front of the window, brushing the slightly damp carpeting before it. Wet blades of cut grass stuck to her fingers. Not only had he peered into her window, he had climbed in, stood over her while she slept.

How naive and stupid of her to leave her window unsecured, especially following the ransack. Kane had warned her and she had all but ignored his concern. And for what, fresh air? She could have easily been added to the list of growing victims.

Cara stumbled back to the bed and sat heavily onto her rumpled sheets. Who the hell could she even call? The S.O. certainly would never believe that an age-old vampire meant to slice her throat. Get out the straight jackets now. Joe would be concerned, sure, but he’d never understand what she dealt with. Hell, she didn’t even understand it.

Kane.

Like it or not, he might be her only hope in getting out of this alive. Cara hadn’t ruled him out as a suspect in the murder cases, nor had she completely ruled him out as the one who had ransacked her room. And now she thought him her last hope? Cara took a deep breath and released it. What a mess. She didn’t even trust herself to be in the same room with him for far more reasons than the open murder cases. Cara thought about the hot possessive, toe-curling kiss. The one that came right before she panicked, broke the glass and ended with him sucking her blood. Her heart quickened and her blood raced through her veins. The man was one hell of a turn-on. She had no doubt that if she were ever to cave and actually take him up on that piece of ass, it would be the best sex she’d ever had in her lifetime.

Not that she had a lot to draw on.

Cara looked at her palm. The palest of scars remained. She ran her forefinger across the thin, pink line. His actions should have had her praying to her lucky stars that he hadn’t decided to drain her. The three women left in shallow graves came to mind. Surely, he wasn’t capable of anything so heinous. But instead of swearing off of ever being in the same room alone with the man again, she thought him her savior from this whole debacle. Not only that, but she actually fantasized about him sinking his fangs into her neck and taking his fill. Just the thought had her panties wet. 

What the hell was it about the man?

Kane had tasted her blood, his tongue following the red path down her fingers and encircling the digits. The sharp points of his canines had scraped her flesh as he suckled the cut. She should have been running for the hills, not dreaming about getting him out of his pants and into hers. A dull ache centered between her thighs. She had done gone and lost it.

Walking to her closet, Cara pulled her thin nightgown over her head and tossed it into her laundry basket, then stepped out of her panties. She needed a shower. A very cold shower, she thought with a chuckle. She had no business entertaining thoughts of Kane and how she’d like to lick every hard, contoured inch of him. The man was a walking wet dream if she had ever seen one.

A knock sounded on her back door, startling her. Cara glanced at the clock: six-fifteen. Who would be calling at this hour? Grabbing her silk bathrobe from her closest, Cara shoved her arms into the sleeves and headed for the door. Whoever it was, the person better have a good reason for disturbing her fantasies of one very hot vampire.

Cara peeked through the venetian blinds that hung over the door window, one of the four panes now covered by plywood. Kane Tepes stood on her stoop, as though the very thought of him had conjured him up. Cara hesitated, hand on the knob. Her heart stuttered to a screeching halt. Hadn’t she just convinced herself that being alone with him wasn’t a good idea? And here she stood, nearly naked, and ready to invite him in. Cara slapped her palm against her forehead. She needed a reality check. Besides, if Kane had been the one to stand over her bed last night, then she wanted to know why.

Opening the door a crack, not wanting to give him the impression he was welcome, she asked, “What do you want, Kane?”

His smile warmed her and tickled her libido. Damn, she hoped she wasn’t about to hand herself over to a psychotic killer.

“That’s one hell of a greeting.”

“I’ll save the pleasantries for those that are invited.”

Kane laughed. “I’m wounded.”

Great, her jibe hadn’t fazed him. She opened the door and allowed him in. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping, going underground, getting in your coffin or something about now?” she asked as she shielded her gaze from the morning sun.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped into her laundry room. “Maybe if I were dead.”

Gripping her hand, he placed it over his heart, which beat heavy beneath her palm. His flesh was hot … very hot against her hand.

“Does that feel dead to you?”

“Vampires are supposed to be cold.”

“We aren’t fictional. We don’t need to be invited in, crosses don’t scare us, holy water won’t harm us, and our eyes are only sensitive to the sun. We won’t go up in flames if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“More like hoping.”

Kane pulled her so close her breasts grazed his chest, hardening her nipples. No hiding them beneath her silky robe. Damn, her Benedict Arnold body, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pulling away and allowing him to see her reaction. So instead, she stood her ground and tilted her chin up, glaring at him.

“That isn’t true, Mia Bella, and you know it. Your heart beats fast.” He winked at her. “One of the benefits of being a vampire, our senses are more acute.”

“Then maybe you can tell how annoyed I am right now.”

“Annoyed that you desire me?”

“Annoyed that we’re standing here having this conversation. I have to get to work, Kane. So unless you’re here to tell me you caught the son of a bitch who threatened me, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“It’s a Saturday, Detective.”

She steeled her jaw, debating how much to tell him. “I still have a murderer to catch.”

Kane’s expression turned serious, obviously detecting her unease. “What’s wrong?”

Cara looked away, not wanting him to see the lie. “Nothing. I really should get to work.”

Using the pad of his thumb on her chin, he brought her gaze back to his. “Mia Bella, I smell your fear. What is it?”

Cara gritted her teeth, cursing his over-ripened senses. “Where were you last night?”

“Why?”

She took an unsteady breath, hoping her leap of faith wasn’t right into the arms of a killer. Cara didn’t want to believe Kane had crawled through her window, so she had to ask, had to hear it from his lips that he had been nowhere near the vicinity. And maybe because she needed to trust in someone other than herself. Cara had to admit she was out of her league on this one. Kane, like it or not, might be all she had.

“Someone climbed through my window while I slept.” Moisture gathered in her eyes, but she didn’t want to show her weakness. Blinking away the tears, she stepped back from Kane’s touch. “The evidence is upstairs. I’m not going crazy. God, at least I hope not.”

When Kane said nothing, she feared misplacing her trust. She continued, “My sill had dirt on it as proof.”

When Kane still had not reacted to the fact someone had been at her window, her mouth formed an O. Her heart clawed up her chest, and goose flesh popped out along her forearms.

She glared at him. “Why the hell would you stand over me while I slept?”

He took a step in her direction but stopped just short of touching her when her expression rooted him to the floor. “I had to know you were okay.”

Cara’s ire peaked. “You could have called.”

“I wanted to see for myself.”

“Well then, looking in the window should have sufficed.” Cara steeled her jaw, the ache traveling to her ears. “How the hell did you manage to look in a second story window without a ladder?”

“Jumping that high is not a problem for my kind.”

“So why climb through it?”

“Cara.” He took another step and gripped her shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about? I held onto the ledge and only looked in. That’s it. I didn’t climb through your window. Are you telling me someone was in your room last night?”

Kane didn’t wait for her answer. He dropped his hold on her and stormed around her. Cara followed him through the kitchen and the living room, as he crossed the carpeted floor and took the stairs two at a time. Cara tried to keep up, and nearly ran into him as he stopped abruptly just outside the bedroom door, and sniffed the air.

“Fuck.” He turned, his eyes turning black in his anger. “You can’t stay here. Pack your shit.”

 

* * *

 

Son of a bitch.

The primordial’s scent drenched Cara’s room. Kane wanted to destroy something … better yet, Kane wanted to kill a primordial. This fucker wasn’t getting bold, he was downright cocky. He shook his head, hands on hips as he looked to the floor and mentally kicked himself. Did he expect anything less? Primordials weren’t known for doing things quietly among the vampire community. When they did something, it was usually to prove a point or teach a lesson, and it was done so in grand fashion. So what the fuck was the point and what did it have to do with Cara?

He hadn’t heard of a primordial leaving Italy in better than a decade. Last time…

Christ, he refused to think about it, let alone voice her name. Things had not ended well between them. As a matter of fact, their parting had left someone dear to him dead. Kane wasn’t the forgiving type. She was the reason Kane no longer believed in relationships. How did the saying go?
Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice
… he had no intention of being screwed a second time. Women were good for two things: sex and nutrition.

BOOK: Viper
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ads

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