A Taste of Twilight (5 page)

The suit walked back into one of the hotel rooms. Rafe followed him. Jessica and her male companion stood on the far side of the bed.
What are they doing here?
Rafe sent the thought to Phillip. He couldn’t see the other vampire, but he could sense his being nearby.

Maybe they know the two on the bed.

Rafe focused on the apparent cause of the disturbance. A young couple lay on the bed, naked and embracing. Blood coated their arms and smeared the woman’s abdomen.

“It’s
not
suicide,” Jessica insisted.

“There’s a signed suicide pact and everything.” The suit motioned toward the bed. “If Dalton hadn’t called me and warned me this was likely to happen—”

“You wouldn’t have given it a second thought?” she finished impatiently.

“Jessie’s right. There has been an apparent suicide found in every city Pyrite has played.”

The suit snorted and scrubbed his stubbly jaw with his fingertips. “Please tell me this isn’t a
Don’t Fear the Reaper
sort of thing.”

“They aren’t being driven to suicide. They’re being murdered.” She pushed past Dalton and approached the bed. “Where’s the razor blade or knife? How did they slit their wrists?”

The suit studied the entwined bodies with new interest. “Damn good point.” He poked around with his glove-covered hands and then paused and looked at Jessie. “You know, this vic looks an awful lot like you.”

Jessie glanced back at the young woman, bile rising into the back of her throat. Detective Fat-Ass was right. The female victim could be her younger sister, if she had a younger sister.

Sloppy investigation and apathy, no wonder these crimes had gone unsolved.

Dalton laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s a stretch for me to be here. We really can’t justify you. We don’t want to compromise the investigation.”

“Is there going to be an investigation?”

“I’ll make sure of it. Take the rental back to our hotel and lock yourself in.”

She stepped closer and lowered her voice, her eyes boring into his. “It’s escalating. The others felt much more random. This smacks of ritual.”

“I know. Do you want an escort back to the hotel?”

She shook her head. “Ride him hard. Pyrite has a six-day break. I don’t want there to be another one.”

Dalton smiled. “Despite the sexual connotation, I’ll ride him hard.”

Jessie nodded and slipped from the room. This is what they’d been hoping for. She despised the fact two people had to sacrifice their lives to bring them to this point, but no one in their right mind would brush this off as an unhappy coincidence.

A crowd had gathered in front of the hotel. Uniformed officers were doing their best to keep the throng under control. Gauging by their outfits, many of the onlookers had migrated down the street from the Crimson Carousel. She could picture the headlines.
Ritual Murderer Stalks Pyrite Fans
.

Knowing how quickly pandemonium took over a crime scene, Dalton had parked the rental car in a lot two blocks down from the hotel. She withdrew the keys from her pocket and looked under the car as she approached.

“How many have there been?”

She gasped, recognizing the deep male voice half a second before she turned around. No one had been following her. She was sure of it. “Where did you come from?”

“Originally?” Rafe’s dark eyes shimmered in the moonlight.

“I was watching to make sure no one was following me. How did you—never mind. What was your question?”

“I wondered how many deaths there have been.”

“This makes six and seven.”

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket and moved closer. “You don’t believe they’re suicides?”

“What makes you ask?” She could barely complete a coherent thought when Rafe was near. All she could think about was touching him and being touched by him. This was so unlike her. Casual affairs had never been appealing, and after Dalton, she’d determined it was all or nothing. She’d find a man with whom she could spend the rest of her life or she wouldn’t bother sharing her body.

So how did this arrogant rock star dismantle her determination without even trying?

“You asked me if someone hated me enough to frame me for murder, not if I had heard of Pyrite fans taking their own lives.”

She shivered, more from the disturbing thought than the cool night air. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. His body heat still warmed the leather and she was suddenly surrounded by his scent. Moonlight cast his chiseled features into high relief, accenting his eyes and the flash of his teeth.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” Low and suspiciously polite, his voice caressed her.

Story hounds would be out in force tonight. A restaurant was risky. He was Rafe Steele after all. “If I take you to my hotel, do you promise to behave?”

“No.” A slow, sexy smile parted his lips. “But I promise to exhaust your curiosity before we misbehave.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. He was incorrigible. “Fair enough. Just be warned. I can be very curious.”

“And I get paid to misbehave.” He walked around the car and waited for her to trigger the locks. “How did you find out about the newest incident?”

Settling in behind the wheel, she started the engine while Rafe fastened his seat belt. The party gave the band members alibis for tonight’s murder at least. On an instinctive level, she’d never believed they were involved. This felt like something directed at Pyrite, not perpetrated by them.

“Still not sure if you can trust me?”

“I know I can’t trust you, but I don’t think you’re a murderer.” She backed out of the parking space and drove across the lot. “Dalton is a cop. He used to be my partner. He asked the local detective to call him if they found a suicide victim during or after your show.”

“Does the fact that Dalton predicted the crime help or hurt the case?”

“It should help.” She tried to rid her mind of the female vic’s face, but the similarity to her own kept the image vivid. “There were other indications that this wasn’t a suicide.”

“Why did you leave the police force?”

“Long story.”

“Or butt the hell out, whichever I prefer?”

“Exactly.” She maneuvered the car with unconscious skill as she determined what to ask and how much to confide. “Are any of the band members married?”

“Why?”

“These crimes are making some sort of statement. They’re not random acts of violence. They’re premeditated, meticulously planned and executed.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”

“Something like that.”

“Chad and Jason are happily involved in a long-term relationship. Phillip and I are not.”

The woman with strawberry blonde hair flashed through Jessie’s memory. Did they realize they were involved with the same woman? Better leave well enough alone. “Do you have any rivals? Who managed Pyrite before Thane Burton?”

“No rivals that I know of, and Thane has been our manager for thirty years. There are no skeletons in our financial closet.”

“Pyrite has been together for thirty years?” She shot him a disbelieving glance. “How old are you?”

He smiled and looked out the window. “Is Dalton your lover?”

She glanced at his profile. He didn’t miss a beat. If she stepped off course, he casually followed. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“Back to the couple in the hotel room. How do you know they attended our show?”

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. How had he known they were a couple? She’d only told him there were two victims. Detective Fat-Ass had given specific orders that no information be released until the parents were notified.

“You know I’m clairvoyant,” he said, still gazing out the window. “Even now their image is clear within your mind.”

Jessie nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her. They were almost to her hotel. Tension knotted her stomach and her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She’d take him to the hotel bar. He was too unpredictable to take to her room. Hell, her reactions to him were too unpredictable.

“Are we almost there?” He echoed her thoughts.

“Yes, but I just thought of something. How will you get to your hotel when we’ve finished talking?” If he expected to spend the night, he was deluded.

“I’ll call my driver. It’s not a problem.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, his gentle touch catching her by surprise. “Why are you so uneasy? You weren’t afraid when we got in the car.”

Fear didn’t automatically make a person weak. Jessie had learned to listen to her instincts a long time ago. Rafe was dangerous. Even if he wasn’t involved in the murders, he was dangerous. His sexy nonchalance just didn’t add up with the shrewd intelligence gleaming in his eyes.

“I don’t know you and I think it’s unwise for a woman to be completely alone with a man she doesn’t know. Any man.”

“Were you victimized by a man? Is that what made you so untrusting?”

She pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and pulled her keys out of the ignition. “This isn’t a personal affront. I just prefer that our conversation take place in the hotel lounge.”

“Jessica.” He waited until she looked at him to continue. “I would never hurt you.”

“I don’t know that for sure.” She opened her car door before adding, “If you knew me at all, you’d know I prefer Jessie.”

Chapter Three

Rafe got out of the car and folded his arms on the roof as he scanned the parking lot. They appeared to be alone. Good. It was better if no one saw them disappear. He’d wanted to calmly explain what was going on and then transport with Jessica to his fortress in upstate New York. Her stubborn streak was forcing his hand.

“I know which diminutive you prefer,
Jessica
. I think it’s ridiculous for someone so beautiful to be called by such a masculine name.”

She turned around, as he knew she would, and marched back to him. “Being a female cop was a pain in the ass. Any physical appeal I might possess was and will always be an unwelcome complication. I don’t appreciate your condescension and I won’t answer to Jessica. My name is Jessie.”

“If you insist.” He shrugged and held out his hand. “You’re wearing my jacket.”

Her jaw dropped for an instant before she snapped it shut. “If I won’t answer to Jessica, you won’t answer my questions?”

“I’m not a cop, you asked me here, and you’re a beautiful woman whether you’re willing to acknowledge the fact or not.”

She sighed and swung his jacket from her shoulders. “Call me whatever you like, but you’re not coming up to my room.”

“Fair enough,
Jessie
.” She held out his jacket and he grabbed her wrist, reeling her in until she was flush with his body. “We’ll go to mine.” He wrapped his arms around her and constructed a detailed image within his mind.
Home. Take us home.

She shoved against his chest then cried out and wrapped her arms around him as they catapulted into the sky. Warm and soft, she felt wonderful clinging to him. He focused on their destination and soared. Cool air caressed his skin and whipped his hair across his face. Sight wasn’t necessary to guide their course, so he buried his face in her hair and held her close.

Faelon claimed he knew Antonelli was meant for him the first time he kissed her. He’d described it as an elemental stirring, an instinctive knowing that he’d found his mate. Rafe had thought it romantic drivel until he kissed Jessica. Her spirit fascinated him. He sensed her nobility, but more than anything, she felt
right
in his arms.

“This isn’t real, it isn’t real. You’re dreaming. People can’t fly.”

Her disbelieving whisper made him smile. Headstrong and self-assured, Jessica was trying to rationalize away the experience even as they sped through the night. And, unfortunately for her, the surprises had just begun. He’d wanted to ease her into this, to offer her analytical mind information and allow her senses to confirm the undeniable truths. Natalie had thrown down the gauntlet. Whether Jessica was ready or not, the competition had begun.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Try to relax. Landings can be tricky.”

Visualizing his bedroom, he finalized their destination. He tightened his arms around her, pressing her trembling body against his chest, his groin, his thighs. She might have been more at ease if they materialized in his living room, but his bed would offer a softer landing.

She cried out when they penetrated the roof. The upper story passed in a blur as her cry escalated to a scream. He twisted, landing on his big four-poster bed, Jessie sprawled on top of him.

She stared into his eyes, her features contorted with fear and disbelief. “What… Where… Oh my god!” She scrambled away from him and scooted off the bed. Her breasts heaved with each frantic breath and she braced her hands against her knees. “
What
are you?”

Rafe sat, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I intended to break this to you gently, but you remembered some date rape seminar you’d attended and—”