Blood Bound (4 page)

 “I very much want this evening to continue,” he said, with a glance at the lightening sky, “but it’s growing late, or rather, early, and I don’t want to rush this. Can we meet again, soon? Perhaps tomorrow night?”

Rafi looked at him and there was regret in her eyes.

“I can’t, I’m working midnights,” she said, “but I’ll be free Monday evening.”

Disappointment was shockingly sharp, but her offer heartened him. It would also give him and them time to be sure.

“Monday it is, then,” he said, “I’d like to show you my home, if that’s all right, and introduce you to my cousin, Nico. This was his idea, after all. I think you’ll like him. I know he’ll like you.”

She smiled. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

With a slight smile and a small inclination of his head, Julian said quietly, “If you’ll trust me I can drive you home or we can call a cab.”

He wanted her a little more time with her, far more intensely than he’d believed possible. Now, given how intoxicated he was becoming with her, it was rapidly becoming imperative. Most of the women he met were far too aware of his wealth. Rafi seemed not to care about anything except Julian Lüceanu, the man.

More though, was the feel of her mouth against his, her sweet body so pliant. They fired his blood and made him hunger for her in a way he’d never hungered for anyone.

If it were only him, there would be no question.

He wanted it to be tonight. He wanted it to be now, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t – rush either of them.

With a smile, she nodded. She’d taken a taxi rather than riding her motorcycle. Bikes and dresses didn’t mix well.

What would his home be like
? Rafi wondered, curiosity tugging at her. “That would be wonderful.”

Opening the car door, he offered her his hand.

She smiled.

The Mercedes was even more comfortable than she’d expected. He drove it competently and just a little fast.

To her surprise, he walked her to her door, an old-fashioned courtesy she found charming.

It wasn’t often that she was charmed.

He lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips lightly over hers, teasingly, before he allowed them to settle.

Heat rushed through her as he drew her close and took the kiss deeper.

Rafi was intensely aware of his powerful body pressed against hers, of the strength of the arms that banded around her.

“Something to remember me by,” he said, his deep voice seeming to echo inside her.

She wasn’t likely to forget. He had classic, old-world manners, a Mercedes, and very expensive tastes in champagne.

Far more importantly, she’d enjoyed his company tremendously. She liked the warmth, the desire in his eyes.

She wished the night wasn’t over. Already she anticipated seeing him again.

Monday couldn’t come too soon.

Chapter Three

Beyond Rafi’s desk was a new world. Not one she minded. Going over files and filling in reports, Rafi watched the parade before her pass by. Unlike what they showed on TV there was little that was romantic about what she saw. No glass walls separated detectives from perpetrators. Glass would have incredibly stupid when objects and people were likely to go flying, although that didn’t happen as often as it did on TV either. There was no fancy lighting, just fluorescent tubes that flickered enough to give you a headache.

She and her partner Sasha had the midnight shift this week so unless somebody shot someone in a bar or a domestic, or it boiled over into more than a punching match, they were pretty much desk-bound, bringing old cases up to speed. Ninety-nine percent boredom offset by one percent of adrenaline when they did have to respond to a call. At that hour they couldn’t even talk to witnesses unless they wanted to roust a hooker or question a bartender.

Of course there was also the increasing chance that some of the newly free paranormals would act up.

Like every ‘immigrant’ group, there were layers. Now that they didn’t have to hide, it hadn’t taken long for some of the younger and poorer to separate out into gangs of anything from packs of werewolves to mixed groups of shapeshifters and vampires, as testosterone-filled as their more ‘normal’ counterparts.

Some of those gangs had morphed into something far more, prostitution and dealing drugs, as had the immigrants before them.

It had been inevitable ever since the first paranormal revealed himself to be a werewolf who’d found it increasingly impossible in more modern times to conceal what he was. Once he’d outed himself, had broken that barrier, paranormals of all kinds had suddenly come out of the ‘closet’ as it were.

With them had come an entirely new set of problems – nutcases of all kinds, with all their prejudices and preconceptions, especially the religious fanatics.

Several people had been injured before they discovered that despite the movies silver didn’t make good bullets, which spoke well of the restraint of the paranormals involved.

A number of arrests were made after threats against paranormals became public. Searches of perps revealed everything from stakes, mallets, and various items of soft metals – gold and silver primarily – to stolen holy water. Rafi would have thought that stealing holy water would pretty much invalidate it, but maybe that was just her.

It was no wonder many paranormals stayed hidden.

Sometimes Rafi wished human beings didn’t find so many ways to separate themselves, so many reasons to hate and kill each other. But then she’d be out of a job.

Rafi sighed at the thought and turned back to her paperwork.

“So,” Sasha said, “I forgot to ask, how’d the date go?”

Looking up Rafi smiled at the memory and at her partner.

Sasha was a big, good-looking guy with a lean handsome face and warm brown eyes. He was the best partner she’d ever had. The rest of the squad often joked that they were the long and short of it, given her diminutive size, or that she was the brains while he was the brawn although he was easily as smart as she was and just as good a cop. Not to mention she could kick most of their asses. Affection ran deep between them, but that was as far as it went. Neither had ever felt the slightest spark of attraction and neither would have changed a thing about their relationship. Their friendship was just too good for that.

“It went…good.”

Sasha lifted an eyebrow at her as he looked up from his paperwork.

“With that grin,” he said, “it seems like it was probably better than good.”

Rafi shook her head wryly. “It was only one date, Sash.”

She was trying desperately not to make too much about it, but the hours between now and Monday seemed to be passing far too slowly.

He gave her another look, knowing her too well.

“Okay, so it went good, really good,” she admitted. “It was a really good date.”

If Rafi had one true friend in the world, it was Sasha. They’d been through a lot since they’d been partnered three years previously. Trust was essential between partners and he’d trusted her with his deepest secret. Not that he’d had much choice.

Sasha was a werewolf.

According to regs, Sasha wasn’t even really supposed to be on the police force any more than any other paranormal. His greater strength and speed were considered unfair to the general public and a werewolf’s chancy temper was a danger, a liability that opened the PD up to lawsuits if someone got hurt, or Sasha lost control.

It wasn’t fair, especially considering the danger that those on the job faced going up against paranormals, but that was the way it was. A few fought it through the courts while others just kept quiet about what they were.

Like Sasha.

He was a great cop, though, and in the years they’d known each other he’d never once lost control in Rafi’s presence. He had his other nature locked down pretty tight. If he had any questions about it, or on nights when the moon was close and full and he wasn’t sure of himself, he locked himself in a room in the basement of his house. That didn’t happen often.

She’d never seen him change and didn’t want to. It wasn’t that it turned her off or anything, it was just…private. She respected that.

Like her date.

Rafi shook her head. Some things she couldn’t say even to Sasha.

Like that the evening had seemed almost magical.

Thoughts like that just weren’t her nature.

It was so weird.

“I’ve never connected to someone so quickly,” she blurted, almost abashed. “I met him at the Ambassador Club.”

Sasha’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s high-end.”

“I know,” she said. “So is he. Tailored suit and all.”

Warmth washed through her at the memory of Julian as he’d walked toward her. Her little heart had gone pitter pat at the sight of him. It still did at the memory.

“Wow,” Sasha said with a grin. “I’m impressed. He certainly seems to be going all out. So, when are you going to see him again?”

“Monday,” she said.

At the memory of Julian’s mouth on hers her heart did more than pitter pat and more than warmth washed through her.

Sasha folded his hands on their shared desk and looked at her. “Have you told him you’re a cop?”

Taking a breath, Rafi shook her head, looked down at her desk. “No, not yet.”

His tone gentle, Sasha said, “Why not?”

She looked up at him. He knew why not. All the baggage, the expectations.

“I want him to get to know me first. Me. Not the cop.”

“Yeah, I know, Nik,” he said, and sighed. “But you have to tell him.”

She knew that. She did.

“Monday. I’ll tell him Monday.”

When she went to see his house, to meet his cousin.

It couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Four

Rafi admired the scenery as it passed, intrigued and amused as Julian drove through what seemed like mile after mile of vineyards that spread out on each side of the drive. A pergola ran along both sides of the road. At least a mile of it. The supports were twined with wisteria and clematis in every color of the rainbow. All of it was lit by the warm glow of the setting sun.

Then the vineyards gave way to a broad expanse of neatly clipped green lawn and at last she could see Julian’s house.

Except it wasn’t a house, it was a mansion.

The driveway was a sweep of intricately set pavers that must have cost a fortune, and not a small one, to set in place. The garage housed several high-end cars, the building itself larger than most people’s houses. Including her own apartment.

Julian brought the car to a stop and handed her out of the car as she looked around.

Broad marble steps led up to a wide slate patio shaded by a central oak.

Built of stone, the house itself resembled a small castle.

Planters of Japanese maples and flowering bushes flanked the doorways, the lighting soft and indirect.  More light glowed warmly through what appeared to be real leaded-glass windows. Through one set Rafi could see a library filled with aged, leather-bound books.

The main doorway itself was grand, an intricate filigree of wrought iron over ancient carved oak.

She glanced at Julian and lifted an eyebrow.

With a small shrug he said, “I might have a little bit of spare change here and there.”

His dark eyes twinkled with mischief.

She looked at him, smiled, and shook her head.

“A little spare change?” she said. “In addition to the Mercedes, there’s a Jag, a Maserati and a Land Rover in the garage.”

Julian shrugged. “True.”

“All right,” she said, laughing, “I’ll admit it. I’m impressed.”

Impressed, but not overawed. She wasn’t a woman who impressed easily. Julian liked that.