Kissed by a Vampire

“Her friends say she met a man there. Went off with him into one of the private gaming rooms and never came back out.”

“Can her friends provide a description of the man?”

When Dan replied affirmatively, Alex continued. “Can you give me their names and numbers?”

“You’re willing to help me find Andrea?” Dan asked, surprised happiness lightening the timbre of his voice.

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll ask around. See what I can find out. Check with the local LEOs, as well.”

“Thank you, Alex. You can’t imagine what this means to me.”

But Alex could imagine what losing someone so special did mean. He had lost someone dear twice in his lifetime now and he had survived.

But barely.

And somewhere along the way, he had lost pieces of his heart and soul. It would be a long time before he opened himself up to more of that kind of heartbreak, he thought.

As he took down the information from Dan, it occurred to him that fate might just be finding ways for him to get his life moving forward once again.

First there had been that sexy woman from last night, and now he had a worthwhile case to investigate. Maybe a combination of both would help drive away the demons and nightmares that plagued him.

With renewed purpose, Alex dialed the number for the first name that Dan had given him.

From her oceanfront suite in the Park Central Hotel, Stacia peered past the edges of the thick blackout curtains she had asked the hotel to install. Considering that some of their patrons spent the night partying and the day sleeping, it wasn’t such an unusual request.

But unlike the party animals nestled in their beds after their nightlong binges, she was up and about after only a short daytime rest, her elder powers giving her stamina beyond that of other vampires. It was a double-edged sword since what did one do with all that energy and wakefulness if one couldn’t go out in the sun?

Especially the strong Miami sun. Stacia stayed at the window as long as she could before the strength of the afternoon rays on her skin became more than she could bear.

It had been another gorgeous late-spring day beyond the curtains. The cerulean of the ocean bright beneath a cloudless sky. A sweet ocean breeze rustling the deep green fronds of the palms through Lummus Park.

There had been hundreds of bodies on the beach, soaking up the daylight. She imagined the heat of their skin from the punishing rays. Imagined how such a sun-toasted body pressed to hers would take away the chill from her skin. Fantasized about sinking her teeth into that heated flesh and savoring sun-warmed blood.

A shiver of need danced through her at the thought, tightening her insides. Demanding that she find satisfaction. But the solar rays were still too strong for her to venture outside.

Satisfaction would have to come in some other way.

She strode to the small refrigerator tucked into the entertainment center in the room. Inside were the half a dozen or so blood bags she had obtained from the local hospital a few nights earlier. It hadn’t taken much effort. With her elder power, she had slipped past hospital security with an implanted suggestion, found the blood bank and helped herself to some fresh O neg.

Removing the blood from the fridge, the chill of the plastic was a taunting reminder of how this snack was second best to those solar worshippers outside and of how cold she was.

Blood bag in hand, Stacia walked to the bathroom and eyed the tub. Decided a nice long soak would go a long way to eliminating the nip in her body. She filled the tub with water as hot as her undead flesh could stand and added a packet of bath salts that the hotel had left for guests. When the bath was ready, she returned to the room, slit open the top of the blood bag and poured a hefty portion into one of the wineglasses from the mini-bar. Some blood remained in the bag, and rather than waste it, Stacia quickly drained the container dry.

The energy of that small bit of blood surged through her body, awakening it.

Awakening needs of various kinds.

She sipped the blood in the glass as she strolled back to the claw-foot tub and placed her beverage on a small, filigreed stand. Whirls of steam rose from the water as Stacia slipped off her robe and then eased into the roomy tub.

The heat enveloped her, but it was a poor substitute for a lover’s embrace. That would have to wait until tonight’s encounter.

Maybe she would run across the handsome man from last night. The one who had seemed so interested in her. The intense look on his face had stayed with her long after she had lost sight of him in the crowd and then left the club.

For a few moments she let herself imagine how that intensity might feel directed toward her. How his long, lithe body, so much bigger than hers, would surround her and how he might lift her up against him with those muscled arms. Take her to her bed and fill her night with pleasure.

With a sigh, she reluctantly eased her arm out of the warmth of the water to grab her glass. Took a bracing gulp of the blood, which sent a wave of energy crashing through her insides.

Stacia gasped from the force of it, and as she sucked in a steadying breath, the scents from the baths slipped into her consciousness.

Eucalyptus.

Orange blossoms like those on the potted trees tucked into the niches of the walls in her family’s bath.

Memories assailed her of those baths, driving away the pleasant daydream about her mystery man.

The scents recalled the times she had shared the baths with her family. With Hadrian, when she had turned him, centuries after she had lost her life and her innocence.

Lost both of them in those waters.

With her hand shaking from the blood’s life force running through her veins, she brought the glass to her lips and took another deep gulp, nearly emptying it. She placed the drink back on the stand and eased beneath the water’s edge, the temperature of the liquid feeling almost cool now that the vampire’s heat surged through her body.

The desire stirred by the blood became unbearable, and as Stacia slipped her hand down between her thighs to satisfy that desire, the warm wetness and scents of the water transported her back to that fateful day.

Rome, nearly 2,000 years earlier

“Stop it, Cassius.” Stacia giggled as she dodged her intended’s amorous advances along their moonlit stroll. They had been walking for close to an hour, through the Forum and then back to her family’s home near the Tiber.

Cassius grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her into the shadows by the door to the building holding the baths in her home. “The ceremony is tomorrow, beloved.”

Tomorrow being the day her father would place her hand in Cassius’s, turning over control of her to her intended along with the substantial dowry her father, a senator, was bestowing upon them to start their married life together.

Not that Stacia would be controlled.

At seventeen she was past the age when most of her friends had been married. Wiser than them, she thought as she snared Cassius’s hand as he slipped it beneath the edge of her sleeveless tunic and pressed his body to hers. The obvious proof of his desire butted against the softness of her belly.

“Cassius,” she warned again, but her beloved would not be dissuaded.

He inched closer and bent his head, bringing his lips to her neck. He dropped a line of kisses up to the shell of her ear where he whispered, “I have something I want to show you.”

Stacia shivered as he tugged on her earlobe, desire awakening despite her better sense. There was something different about Cassius lately. In the past few weeks, ever since he had spent time with some new friends out in the country, he had been …

Sexier.

More demanding.

Infinitely darker, with a dangerous air he had not possessed before.

He must have sensed she was weakening, since he reached down, cupped her breast and unerringly found the tip, rotating it between his fingers and dragging a strangled moan from her.

“You are so beautiful. Let me show you how beautiful, my wife,” he said huskily, the low tones of his voice strumming alive greater need within her.

“Wife now, is it?” she teased and pulled on a longish lock of his dark hair to draw him away.

“Tonight you are my wife. Tomorrow is only a matter of ceremony, no?” He smiled, his deep brown eyes glowing with a strange new light, the paleness of his skin a startling contrast to the darkness of his jet-black hair.

Had his skin always been that bloodless or was it an illusion from the moonlight? she wondered for a moment before he tightened his fingers on her breast, creating a sympathetic tug between her legs. The pull of desire was so intense she had to close her eyes against the strength of it, which just caused Cassius to chuckle.

“Do not deny yourself, Stacia. You are a woman of immense passion. I can show you great pleasure tonight. The kind of pleasure we will share forever, my wife.”

Forever, she thought, imagining the life she would be starting with Cassius come the morning. Eager to begin a new phase since she had gotten bored with the mundane tasks of helping her mother run their household. It was long past time that she should have a home of her own and a husband to warm her bed.

“Show me,” she said, and he chuckled once more, grasped her hand and led her into the baths.

Stacia dragged herself away from the painful memories of her once-beloved Cassius.

As something wet trickled down the side of her face, she brushed it away, but was surprised as she encountered the salt of her tears and not the bathwater.

Dashing away the tears, she rose from the bath and dressed quickly, needing to leave before the reminiscences brought more pain and disillusionment. She had no desire to let those emotions cloud the bright Miami days she had escaped Manhattan to enjoy.

As she dressed and shot one last look in the mirror, imagining how she might appear, another image pulled at her memory. The vision of her tall, handsome Latino—the one she had connected with briefly at the club the night before.

Yet again it occurred to her that there had been something familiar about his face, much as his expression had given away that there had been something recognizable about her. As she finally left her hotel room and escaped into the night, she tried time and again to place the man, but each attempt failed.

The identity of her mystery man would have to wait until later. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have an eternity of nights to find him, although she hoped it wouldn’t take her too long.

Something about him whispered to her that he might be able to fill the nights that loomed before her, eternal and empty.

Predictably boring.

Recalling the determined glitter in his eyes, she decided that the handsome Latino would be anything but boring.

Because of that, Stacia hastened her pace, eager for the night to begin.

Chapter 3

Alex handed the artist’s sketch to Miranda, the final one of Andrea’s friends he had to interview. The very last person who had seen Andrea entering the private area with the man they called “the Sheik.” Miranda had agreed to meet him at one of the cafés along the Ocean Drive strip where they sat at an intimate table for two tucked beneath an umbrella.

Miranda took but a cursory glance at the sketch and immediately shoved the drawing back in Alex’s direction. “This is the guy.”

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered him one.

He held up his hand. “No, thanks.”

She lit up and took a deep drag, her actions skittish. Her eyes were hidden from him by the sunglasses she wore. She blew out a breath of smoke, and he watched it drift into the darkening Miami sky.

“You’re sure Andrea was with this man at the Widget?” he pressed, just to confirm.

Miranda bent forward and perused the sketch again before nodding and taking another nervous drag from her cigarette.

“I’m sure. We had seen him there before. He always had a harem and lots of money, so we nicknamed him ‘the Sheik.’”

“Do you know his real name?” Alex picked up his espresso cup and blew across its surface before taking a tentative sip.

Miranda glanced around, almost as if fearful to answer.

Alex tracked her gaze but observed nothing suspicious.

“Are you afraid, Miranda? Do you think—”

“He’ll come get me?” Miranda took a long pull on her cigarette before forcefully blowing out a plume of smoke.

“So, are you afraid?” he repeated when she delayed.

Miranda shrugged. “I don’t plan on going back to the Widget. Ever.”

“No one asked you to do that, Miranda. I just need you to tell me a little something more about that night and this man.” Alex flipped the sketch around so Miranda could not avoid seeing it.

Another shrug came in answer, shifting the strap of the loose black tank top she wore. The shirt dipped to reveal the curves of her breasts and no bra.

Miranda pulled the strap back into place as she said, “We went. We saw. She conquered.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “She, as in Andrea?”

Miranda nodded. “Andrea had been intrigued by the Sheik more than the rest of us. That night she was determined to meet him, so she was dressed to kill. It seemed like it was her lucky night.”

“Why’s that?” Alex leaned toward her so he could read the nuances in her body language. He wished she would remove her damned sunglasses so he could see her eyes.

Eyes could definitely tell you a hell of a lot more than words alone.

Amazingly she did as he had wished, tossing aside the sunglasses before dragging a hand through the long locks of her dark hair.

She had old eyes, he decided. Aged beyond her twentysomething years. A sure sign of a hard life, but given what he knew of Andrea’s past, he supposed her friend’s eyes mirrored that. Drugs and other problems had taken their toll.

“The Sheik was alone that night. Drinking at the bar all by his lonesome. Andrea jumped on the opportunity to meet him.”

And to jump on him, Alex suspected but didn’t say. “So they spent time together at the club?”

Miranda nodded. “Dancing. Drinking. After, he took her to the video-game area.”

“You saw her there? In the video-game area?”

Another quick bob of Miranda’s head confirmed it before she said, “For an hour or so. Then she went with him into the private rooms. We thought she was going to one of those luxury gaming digs that everyone was always talking about.”

“And that was the last time you saw her? You didn’t think to call or check on her the next day? Or the day after that?”

She winced at the condemnation in his voice, which he hadn’t been able to control. Even if Andrea hadn’t been Dan’s daughter, it would have been hard not to question what kind of friends she had. Friends who had left her without a second thought, apparently, and who hadn’t worried about what had happened to her until Andrea’s father had started asking around.

“We figured she’d hit the jackpot. The Sheik was always a high roller. Handsome. He could get into the private rooms. Do you know how hard it is to get into that area?” she said, gripping the edges of the table as she leaned toward him to emphasize her point.

“I guess I’m going to find out,” he said and rose. “Thanks for your help.”

Miranda nodded, and Alex tossed some money on the table to cover their check.

He walked away and crossed the street to Lummus Park. The activity in its gardens and along the walkways had changed from the morning beachgoers to those who would be strolling along the strip to pick a place to eat before heading out to party later that night.

It was still too early for him to scope out the Widget, although he was eager to return there, and not just on account of his investigation into Andrea’s disappearance.

The demon had come to him in his dreams once again, but she had been more mortal this time. Looking way too much like the woman he had seen last night. He didn’t know if he should take that as an omen to avoid her because she’d be nothing but trouble.

Despite that bothersome possibility, she had awakened a different kind of need in his dreams—a desire to discover more about her. To find out why the demon who had been haunting him for months was suddenly pointing him in the direction of his mystery woman.

He popped open the doors on his Crossfire convertible, which was parked on the street across from the News Café where he had met Miranda.

With a quick glance at his watch, he slipped into the low-slung car, experiencing only a slight pull in his midsection in the area where he had been shot nearly a year earlier. He paused for a moment, pressing against the spot to tame the stitch in his muscles, and then lowered the top on the convertible. After a quick cruise up and down Ocean Drive to see who was out and about, he then headed back to his office to review his files and notes once again before returning to South Beach.

The problem with the DEA materials he had reviewed was that he didn’t recall seeing anyone in their extensive databases and papers who matched the general description of the man Andrea’s friends had dubbed “the Sheik.” That could mean that the man wasn’t as much of a player as Andrea and her friends had thought. But although the Sheik hadn’t made the DEA’s watch list, maybe the man had come to the attention of the local law-enforcement officers.

Which meant that it was time he arrange for a visit to the neighborhood police department and speak to those LEOs. Maybe the Sheik had crossed paths with them and they could provide some background information on the man and his associates.

But not tonight.

Tonight he had to scope out the clubs one more time.

He owed it to Dan to find the Sheik and hopefully Andrea.

He owed it to himself to find the mystery woman from his dreams. For too long he had lived without allowing himself the pleasure of a woman’s company. First because of his heartache over losing his ex-lover, Diana, to her vampire lover and more recently because of his commitment to his work.

There had been a challenge in his mystery woman’s eyes, almost daring him to come and play for a while. It reminded him of the demon in his dreams as she bent to taste his blood. Maybe accepting her dare would allow him a respite from the prison he had created for himself with his obligations to his job.

Alex decided to take up that challenge, if only for a short break from the duties he took so seriously. He knew his heartache would not be so easy to forget.

Stacia smoothed the slick bloodred fabric across the flat lines of her belly. The color was a shock against the paleness of her skin and the nearly ebony shade of her hair and eyes. The bright hue was unfamiliar. She usually favored black and leather.

The Miami humidity factored against the latter, and something about the locale had her tossing aside all the New York black. Appropriate since the reason for coming to Miami had been to exact a change in the tedium of her eternal life.

Satisfied with her appearance, Stacia left her room and exited hastily onto the veranda of the hotel.

The nighttime activity had picked up and dozens of people streamed by in front of the hotel. Dressed in their finery, they were like peacocks on display. She honed in on the energy of their life forces. Savored the differences she detected in their powers: young; not quite old; strong; stronger still.

This was no place for imperfection in this crowd.

A slightly familiar energy came near and she smiled, recognizing a man from the night before. While she had been trolling for last night’s catch, she had implanted a suggestion in him to return to this spot since he hadn’t been quite what she wanted but had possessed possibilities. Not as many possibilities as the other intriguing Cubano, but for now he would do.

The man approached. Tall and sleek. Broad shoulders covered in a jacket of expensive raw linen, creamy against the darker tones of his skin and hair. The man smiled as he took note of Stacia up on the veranda and slowed his pace.

He would be such a fine repast, Stacia thought, detecting the vibrant pulse of his life force. Imagining how she would sink her teeth into the long, elegant line of the stranger’s neck.

Stacia strengthened the push of her elder power, calling to the man to come to her. As he neared, their gazes converged but something there sent a jolt through Stacia.

The man’s eyes were so dark as to appear black, reminding her of Cassius’s gaze, the deceiving, empty gaze that had stolen so much from her millennia ago.

Stacia released her control over him and he shook his head as if suddenly awakening.

He did an about-face and relief washed over her. Funny, really. There were few things that could scare an elder of her age and power, and yet …

She had her own demons.

Demons she had kept hidden for incredibly long to avoid displaying her weaknesses.

In a world as difficult as the vampire realm, any hint of debility made her vulnerable to attack. Something she had avoided successfully for centuries.

Until New York City.

Until the wannabe humans in that vampire underworld had reminded her of her one weakness. Of the single need she had kept buried deep within her for centuries.

To be loved once again.

Driving those thoughts away, Stacia slinked down the steps of the hotel, intending to savor the coming of a Miami night.

She ambled across the street to Lummus Park, slowly making her way along the winding cement walkway that separated the gardens from the beach. The walkway was relatively quiet, although she passed a few couples meandering beneath the palms and sea-grape trees. An in-line skater whizzed past her, lithe leg muscles propelling him to his destination.

She admired his lean buttocks and broad upper body for only a moment before he skated out of sight.

Peering toward the ocean, the moonlight silvered the crests of the negligible waves washing against the shore. Illuminated the occasional human strolling along the Atlantic’s edge. She considered grabbing a snack down along the oceanfront, but the possibility of a chase through the sand would be too much effort tonight. Maybe some other night when she had to release some excess energy and would actually welcome a challenging hunt.

Stacia continued until the end of the path and then crossed the street once more, all the time checking out the offerings, both human and not, in the restaurants along the strip. The food selections were varied, from the expected Cuban offerings to traditional Italian and an assortment of Asian-fusion choices.

She’d had her taste of Cuban last night. The murderous happenings in Manhattan before she had left had her swearing off Asian. That cuisine would remind her too much of the Kiang-shi vampire that had killed a number of the undead and nearly revealed their vampire underworld to the humans.

Italian possibly? she thought, noticing a fine-looking specimen lingering near one establishment. Tall and lean, the young man was dressed in tailored black slacks and a designer shirt that caressed the elegant lines of his body. A mop of artfully highlighted dark blond hair shifted as he bent to review the restaurant menu, straining the cloth of his pants against a lovely rounded bottom.

She approached, the thrum of her vampire desire riding high, and he lifted his head and swiveled it slowly in her direction. His blue-eyed gaze brightened, welcoming her.

Success, Stacia thought.

Chapter 4

She’s here, Alex realized, catching a glimpse of her through the crowd in the Widget.

The captivating woman from the night before.