Belonging (21 page)

Kink was part of him, it was in his blood, and he could see it captivated Analise. Another reason fate had chosen correctly. He couldn’t wait to show her a whole new sexual world existed. But it would only be the two of them. He would not share her.

His cell rang, bringing him out of his fantasies. Caller ID indicated it was Ronson. He’d had a bad feeling since he’d left Milwaukee that something significant was going down.

“Ronson,” he said as he answered the call.

“My lord, my apologies for bothering you, but I thought you should know that Frankie is missing. When I questioned Bart, the head bartender, he indicated he was at the club earlier this evening and then was seen talking to a man. A very large man. Then he was just gone. While nothing is visible, Frankie’s office smells of fresh blood. I also reviewed the security footage and saw a very large vampire enter the club shortly before Frankie was last seen. All of our customers know to use the back entrance versus the main one, so I have reason to believe this vamp was the one responsible.”

“Fuck. Send me the footage. Like an hour ago.” He was certain it was Geoffrey. And if Geoffrey was back
talking
to Frankie, then they were made. There was no way Frankie could have kept the owners identity secret. Which meant they also knew about Damian and Rom as well, and Frankie would have most certainly revealed that Analise left with Damian. Double fuck.

“What would you like me to do from here, my lord?” Ronson wasn’t stupid. This put every human and vampire alike in that club in danger, but Damian needed to be more strategic than Geoffrey and Xavier.

“Do nothing for now. If the footage confirms my suspicions, I believe it’s the same vamp that came in the other night looking for Analise. He’ll be back and he’ll be looking to get into the lower level, if he hasn’t already made it in. Let him. But keep a very close eye on him. Geoffrey is an indiscriminate killer, so if he breaks the rules restrain him and call me immediately. He’s a very strong vamp, Ronson, so if you need help, you’ll need to let me know. In the meantime, I’ll get someone to look for Frankie’s body, although I’m not sure we’ll find much left of him. Geoffrey is known for dicing up his victims like Humpty Dumpty. No fucking way someone could put them back together again.”

“Yes, my lord. What about Lord Devon?”
Yes, what about Dev?
Would this news make him cut his honeymoon short? It didn’t matter; he needed to be made aware. He’d try to convince him to stay away. After all, with Xavier sniffing around, it was probably still the safest place for his mate to be.

“I’ll take care of it, Ronson. Send me that footage and call me if anything else comes up.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Damian dialed Rom. Damian had a love for technology, but Rom was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Rom hated it. Damian had to break down and buy the guy a new cell phone a few months ago. Rom still carried a flip phone. A
flip phone
for fuck’s sake! He’d bought Rom the newest iPhone and spent two hours teaching the guy how to use it. He wasn’t sure he’d learned anything other than how to use the phone keypad and his favorites menu. And Rom sending or responding to a text? Good fucking luck. He’d said his fingers were too big, to which Damian had replied, “Use the talk to text feature.” That was the end of that conversation.

“D, shouldn’t you be with your mate instead of calling me?”

“She’s sleeping. Listen. I need to bring you up to speed on a few items. Xavier has a bead on Analise. Geoffrey showed up at Dragonfly night before last asking for her by name.” He probably should have updated Rom before now, but he’d been kind of distracted with a certain leggy brunette.

“Fuck.”

“Yep, that about sums it up. I took Analise with me to Boston last night, but I plan on coming back to Milwaukee in a day or two. I’ll be bringing additional security with me for her protection.”

“Okay.”

“And I just got a call from Ronson that Frankie, Dragonfly’s main bar manager, is missing. Well, likely dead, and Geoffrey is the primary suspect. I’m waiting for the security feed to come through, but I suspect it’s him. There is no way Geoffrey didn’t find out what really goes on in that bar and who owns it. And at minimum they know that Analise is with me.”

“Are you sure it’s wise to bring her back to Milwaukee?” He’d been wondering the same thing, but he’d made a promise to Dev and even though he was convinced his place was air tight, with Dev’s estate protected by shrouding, he thought perhaps it was a safer place for Analise instead.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

They spent a few minutes discussing his strategy and how to lure Geoffrey in. Rom agreed with his approach. He’d learned from the best. Although he didn’t think Geoffrey would talk, it would be a blow to Xavier to lose his second in command. And they’d take great pleasure in torturing the fucker to see if they could get a lead on the other missing girls or the children before they put an end to his pathetic existence.

“I’m also going to have Giselle get with the detective to track down Frankie. Or his body.”

“Parts, you mean.” Rom was also well aware of Geoffrey’s predilection.

“I know, but we need to try.” He may not have liked the guy, but he didn’t wish his body to be spread out all over Wisconsin farm fields either.

“We need to call Devon,” Rom said.

“I know.”

They disconnected and Damian gathered his thoughts, deciding to put off a call that would ruin his friend’s honeymoon for day or two. He couldn’t help thinking that they still had the upper hand.

Xavier didn’t know how many of his daughters were alive. They did. And the last one couldn’t be found fast enough. Neither Kate nor Damian’s own mate was safe, but at least they were both under the protection of men who fiercely loved them and would give their lives for them. What Xavier had so callously discarded many years ago he now suddenly wanted back.

Well, fuck that. This little family reunion would happen over his dead body.

C
hapter
30

Analise

She woke to an empty, cold bed. In Damian’s penthouse. In Boston. She sat, called out to him and was greeted with silence. Flopping back down, she wondered what to do next.

Looking down at her naked form, memories of last night wove their way into the forefront of her brain. She blushed remembering how she’d readily complied with Damian’s wicked demands. She’d performed her first strip tease and publicly masturbated. Well…maybe not
publicly
, but close enough. Masturbating beneath the covers in the privacy of your bedroom was far different than being completely exposed, someone watching your every move.

If she moved her hands down right now, she knew she’d find herself wet. His dominance over her body was overwhelming but oddly gave her relief at the same time. She’d spent her entire life taking care of herself and it was almost cathartic to let someone else call the shots and take care of her for once.

The thought that Damian’s touch lit her body on fire instead of making her cringe made her heart soar. Before Damian, when someone touched her, she felt like bugs were crawling all over her skin, boring themselves into her pores.

She reflected on their conversations over the last day. She had been too overwhelmed with information yesterday, needing time to digest it.

First and foremost, after twenty-six long years she’d discovered her parentage. Her mother was a witch and her father probably a psychotic vampire. Yah her. How did they find out for sure if she was this guy’s daughter? She’d have to ask Damian.

You couldn’t choose your DNA, but you could choose what to do with it. Good or bad, she wanted to learn more about both sides of her family and, whether Damian liked it or not, she would. After hearing his heartbreaking past, she had empathy to his aversion of witches, but like it or not, she was one and that was something she would dig into further. How her vampire half factored in she wasn’t sure. Did she have latent vampire powers as well? It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

She also was a dreamwalker. She still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Could she make herself dream about things? Were there others like her? Why hadn’t this ever happened to her before? Why now? Could it have anything to do with meeting Damian and the fact they were fated to be together? It was confusing and she needed to find out more.

Determined to get answers to the questions racing through her mind like a thundering pack of wild horses, she left the bed in search of clothes. This was the first time she’d had a chance to really look around the bedroom and what she saw didn’t disappoint. The master bedroom was oversized with a sitting area to the left, which led to a massive covered balcony. The oversized four-post king bed sat in the middle of the room on a raised platform. There were slats in the headboard that were perfect for binding her. Her blush returned full force.

Hanging on the wall opposite the bed was the biggest damn flat screen TV she’d ever seen. She wasn’t sure how it stayed on the wall without falling down. It had to be seventy or eighty inches across. To her right were French doors, which she assumed led to the closet, so she headed there thoroughly enjoying the feel of the plush carpet on her toes. She hoped to at least find an oversized T-shirt of Damian’s she could wear. Her clothes from yesterday were dirty and she wasn’t donning that sexy dress again unless she had no other choice.

When she entered the walk-in closet, she froze. On the left side hung row after row of high-end dress shirts, suits, dress pants and jeans. Open shelves held dozens of neatly folded T-shirts, mostly dark colors like blacks, charcoals and grays. There were several built-in shoe shelves, all lined with various dress and casual men’s shoes.

But that wasn’t what surprised her, for hanging on the right side of the closet were brand new women’s clothes. She knew they were new as they all had the tags still attached. There were stacks of jeans and several dozen shirts, blouses, dress pants and even a few dresses. She checked the sizes of several pieces and they were her size. She checked the various shoes stacked in the shoe rack, all size eight. Opening a few drawers, the most beautiful lingerie peeked out at her. Rows and rows of lacy bras and panties, spanning every shade of the rainbow and then some.

Damian got these?
For me?
When? Tears pricked her eyes as she tried to gain her composure. No one had ever done anything remotely like this for her before. These were high-end clothes; the person who’d left them hadn’t bothered to remove the prices. One of the dresses alone was over two thousand dollars. Where would she ever wear a two thousand-dollar dress? A pair of shoes was eight hundred dollars. For something that would just get dirty when you walked in the dirt? And two hundred-dollar underwear? On what planet did people pay two hundred dollars for one pair of panties? That was simply asinine. While she appreciated the thought, she could not accept these gifts.

She found the cheapest pair of underwear she could and ripped off the tags. They were still one hundred fifty-two effing dollars. Jesus that made her stomach churn. She could shop for practically a year at the thrift shop on one hundred fifty dollars. How she would pay Damian back, she had no idea, but she would. Maybe she could sell them on Craig’s list. People bought all kinds of weird shit on that site.

She grabbed a neatly folded gray short-sleeve tee and, while she wasn’t pencil thin, the XXL fabric engulfed her frame. The hem hung to mid-thigh, arms falling several inches below her elbow. Even her ample breasts were hidden by the excess fabric. Well, at least she was covered in case she ran into anyone besides Damian.

She left the comfort of the bedroom and began winding her way through the spacious apartment. She found a set of stairs going up, but was drawn downstairs instead. She could simply
feel
Damian’s presence down there but didn’t understand why. As she entered the main level, she drank in the unbelievable sight. The modern room was open, with ultra-high ceilings, a built-in bar on the far back left and a black marble fireplace clearly the centerpiece of the expansive room. To her right she noticed the edge of the black marble kitchen countertop, but from her vantage point she couldn’t see much of anything else.

But to her the most impressive thing in this room was not the expensive leather furniture, priceless wall hangings, or the cream-colored carpet that felt like silk under her feet. No. The most impressive thing was the view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the entire left wall. These windows must have been at least twenty feet high and the entire lengthy room was lined with them. At night this must be breathtaking.

She noticed a hallway straight ahead, just from the front door. That was where she would find Damian, no doubt. He said he had business to take care of while here, so she suspected she would find him in an office of some sort. She followed her intuition and quickly located him several doors down. She was just about to knock but pulled up short when she heard her name.

Yes, she shamelessly put her ear to the closed door like the little eavesdropper she was.

“The missing friend is Beth Murphy,” said an unknown voice. “She worked as a sous chef at a new restaurant named
Prime
in downtown Chicago. Went missing on June twenty-sixth. I checked out her apartment and there was nothing of use there, so the snatch must have happened between work and her apartment. I talked to her boss and he’s clean. Analise and Beth met on the streets and were thick as thieves.

“Tracked down a street rat named Smitty who knows her. He admitted to being the one to provide Analise Lord Devon’s name and where to find him. He didn’t remember where he’d heard his name, but I talked to a few others and it’s a pretty common rumor actually. He didn’t really even believe the information he’d given to Analise, but he said she sounded desperate and he was just trying to help.”

“How does he know Analise?” Damian growled. She couldn’t believe her ears. Damian had someone check into her background? How could he do that to her? He’d told her to trust him. And like a goddamned lovesick fool, she had.