Bond of Darkness (29 page)

"Always the professional." And his blood ran faster for it.

"Are you making eyes at me, mister?"

His voice must have changed, which wasn't surprising. Classic Western clothing on a figure like hers would be an enticement to any man. If he could persuade her into a strip tease, where she'd carefully take off her guns one by one, then the belt. And slowly unbutton her shirt, teasing him with the knowledge of how little skin he'd see at first…

Hell, he'd be hotter than Hades to get her out of that Kevlar so she could reach her bra!

After that, would he want her to take off the boots first or unzip her pants? One would let him go down on her sooner but the other would let him kiss his way up her legs—and bring his cock into action sooner.

Decisions, decisions.

"Would I dare—when you're armed and dangerous?"

She blew him a kiss, from just inside the courthouse. "After we get back to my apartment, mister. After."

He followed her, whistling softly.

DPS HEADQUARTERS, THE NEXT DAY

Steve took the stairs two at a time and moderated her pace just enough not to burst out of the door. A quick survey of the room numbers gave her the necessary direction and she spun on her heel, checking her watch. Only a couple of doors to go, although it was hard to tell how far a room might stretch. Bosses needed extra room for hot air in their offices and conference room.

Yup, that was it: Chief, Texas Rangers.

A quick double-check of her uniform, thanks to reflections from the trophy case opposite, and she walked inside, glad her heart was no longer pounding double time. "Ranger Steve Reynolds, ma'am," she announced to one of the two women guarding the anteroom.

Laser-sharp blue eyes under faded gray hair drilled through her. Immaculate desktops with neat stacks of paper dared her to cause trouble.

Steve perfected her stance, having heard all the legends about the chief's secretary.

"Please make yourself comfortable." A knowing smile dawned. "He should be back from the governor's office any minute now."

Governor's
office?

"Thank you, ma'am." She sat down next to Posada and pretended to watch CNN on the overhead monitor.

"How many new cases did we get this morning?" he asked, sotto voce.

"None, officially. But we had two calls—from Brownsville and Victoria."

He shot her an appalled glance. "That'll be Victoria's first."

"Mmhmm."

"Distribution network is spreading off the interstates."

"Or widening its grip by moving into smaller towns."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" he demanded.

"No." How could she tell him Devol and his men weren't interested in drugs?

"Hmph."

They both watched the big monitor with all the enthusiasm of a hospital waiting room's crowd.

"Today, the New Orleans cathedral was full of worshipers praying for protection from vampires after the latest round of attacks. Supplies of silver crosses and even garlic are dwindling in the city." The dark-haired announcer leaned forward, his face serious above his extremely expensive suit.

A chill ran down Steve's spine.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Posada demanded.

"Two more women were discovered drained last night," the announcer intoned, "fang marks over their jugulars and their necks extended."

Oh shit.

"As you know, we've sent three reporters to New Orleans but we haven't heard from them since they left Atlanta."

Posada stared at her. "He's crazy, right?"

"Must be." Her throat wasn't working very well.

"We have this report from our New Orleans affiliate…"

The monitor spun into pictures of Dracula, Southern plantations with fog-drenched gardens, and black-clad women, dripping blood from their necks, while they lay crumpled against wrought iron balconies.

"After we return from break, we'll go to our Dallas affiliate for a report…"

"He's not going to say what I think he's going to say?" Posada's horrified eyes met hers.

"God, I hope not."

"On this morning's attacks in Brownsville and Victoria…"

Her stomach twisted and heaved.

"Posada, Reynolds." The chief's quiet voice cut through the journalistic hysteria.

"Sir." They sprang to their feet.

Chief Baker was a big African-American with a pronounced twinkle in his eyes and an amazing ability to sniff out criminals, whether he personally brought them to justice or not.

But Steve's jaw dropped at the sight of his companion—Captain Zachariah Howard. He was the Ranger who'd tracked and found the two kidnapped fifteen-year-old daughters of a senator, while accomplishing the equally unbelievable feat of turning every Texas TV station into his ally. He was tall and very weather beaten, as if he'd been enjoying his favorite hobbies of bass fishing and hunting white-tailed deer even more since he'd retired.

"Howard, do you remember Posada and Reynolds?" Chief Baker asked.

"Yes, we've met several times at the Ranger Museum's annual picnic." They shook hands, Steve trying to appear coolly professional. But she'd grown up on stories about Zach Howard's exploits, as told by her grandfather, one of his classmates at the DPS academy.

"Let's talk in my office." Chief Baker held his door open and they trooped in after him to find seats at the table. This was a working office unlike the antechamber, full of papers and books, tumbled over tables and bookcases, leaving just enough room for visitors to sit down on the classic leather furniture. The curtains were wide open, allowing sunlight to pour into the room and strike sparks off the gold eagle atop the Texas state flag.

Baker didn't waste any time giving them the bad news.

"The New Orleans folks are half-hysterical because they're having so many murders. The national and Louisiana media believe there are vampires."

Posada opened his mouth to object but the chief held up his hand. "I know, I know, they're probably only saying so to sell advertising. But, frankly, nobody's got a better idea."

Steve kept her mouth shut. If nothing else, it was a great way to avoid throwing up—or talking about Ethan.

"Furthermore, somebody has finally figured out we've got a lot of deaths in Texas which look like the same thing."

"Damn," Howard said very softly.

Posada flashed him a wry smile.

"I don't want to mention any Mexican drugs, because some fool will figure out how to buy and sell them even faster. Vampires aren't real."

Steve's skin tightened further around her polite expression.

"So nobody will take them too seriously, making them a great cover story, while we hunt down the real crooks."

She smiled wryly.

"How?" Posada asked bluntly.

"Louisiana and New Orleanscops, acting secretly, have formed an anticorruption task force to investigate the murders."

"Whooeee," Steve whistled.

"Exactly—and they got the governor to bring in the Feds."

Three stunned faces gaped at each other, then at Chief Baker.

"A federal anticorruption task force, with local and state-wide support—in Louisiana?" Howard questioned, rather as if he'd just learned hogs could fly to China.

"Yup."

"They might be able to accomplish something," Posada said, rubbing his jaw.

"Very much so, if they solve the murders."

How? Devol's goal was in Texas and his support base was in New Orleans. Steve frowned, spinning options over and over.

"Our governor has decided to join forces with them."

"Of course," Howard and Posada promptly agreed. Steve shot them a sideways glance but said nothing.

"Zach, we'd like you to lead the task force, including the combined Texas, Louisiana—and federal task force."

He hesitated then inclined his head. "I'll explain the situation to my wife. I'm sure she'll understand why I'm coming back for this."

"Thank you, Zach. I'll do my best to ensure you don't regret this too much." Baker grinned at him for an instant before continuing. "Posada, we need to turn the screws on the real problem—those drugs coming out of Mexico. You've been working those issues for a long time. Can you lead a DPS task force with the Feds?"

"My pleasure, boss." Posada nodded, his fingers flexing on his portfolio. "I've got some ideas which should help."

"Excellent. We've got some new grant money so funds won't be much of an issue this time."

A grin burst across Posada's face and Steve gave him a thumbs-up under the table, more than pleased for her old boss. She might not be able to go after El Gallinazo but she'd be very happy to see him hang, no matter who tied the noose.

"One more thing, Chief."

"Yes, Zach?" The chief was gathering his portfolio together.

"You're taking my best candidate for top lieutenant away from me and sending him down to the border," the gravelly voice complained mildly. "When I don't know much about the murders or their investigation or the team itself. I don't think that's quite right, do you?"

"What do you want, Zach?"

The two big men eyed each other across the table. Steve wasn't sure who held the better hand.

"Reynolds as my deputy."

On a multi-jurisdictional task force, including the Feds and another state? He could ask for, and get, somebody much more senior than her.

Baker drummed his fingers on the table. "She'd have to back you up on briefing the governor."

"Think you can handle that, Reynolds?"

"Of course, Captain." She'd never briefed a big-time politician before but she'd learn fast, especially since Ethan had ensured her the governor would always be discreet.

"Then I've got my core team, Chief" He shot a steely eyed stare across the table and the chief met it blandly.

"Congratulations, Zach. I'm looking forward to seeing the two of you on TV this afternoon, with the rest of your task force."

"Television?" Did she squeak? Steve cleared her throat.

"Don't tell me, Chief: The governor wants a press conference?" Howard looked like he'd swallowed a rattler backwards.

Press conference? At least Captain Howard would almost certainly have to answer all the questions there, not her. It made educating politicians in private look like a piece of cake.

"Yup, but in Baton Rouge, with the Louisiana governor, the U.S. Attorney, and our lieutenant governor."

"Well, now, aren't we going to be blessed." He shot Baker a gold-toothed snarl, which the chief blandly returned.

"Indeed you are. Now, if you'll excuse us, Posada and I have another meeting to attend."

Posada rose, still grinning like somebody who didn't quite know where his feet were.

Steve stood up a little more slowly, light-headed and cold like a hydrogen balloon heading for outer space, and reminded herself she was damn lucky.

Stupid, really; Posada wasn't blood kin. So why did she feel as if she were losing her last family member?

COMPOSTELA RANCH, THAT NIGHT

Ethan frowned, rubbing his hand over his chin, and leaned back in his big leather chair. Allocating men was becoming more and more difficult the longer the damn war went on, no matter who worked on it. Jean-Marie had gone off to stand watch in one of the local nightclubs, saying Ethan might come up with a better configuration on his own.