Born to Love (The Vampire Reborn Series) (Entangled Ignite) (15 page)

Then again, the weres were creatures of nature. The greenery made sense, and the rooftop terrace definitely had the feel of the outdoors with all its lush vegetation below and the sky above.

At the entrance to the glass enclosure, another two petite soldiers guarded the entrance and opened the doors as Brendon approached. He went inside and strode to a large hand-hewn oak table in the center where four other individuals waited.

The first was another slight, but heavily muscled man who stood next to an even smaller woman. They both had cocoa-gray hair and brown-black eyes. As the man put one thick arm over the woman’s shoulders, it was clear they were a couple.

“Francis and Margaret rule the were-rats in the city,” Brendon said, and introduced the FBI contingent.

“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” Diana said as she shook their hands. Afterward, they quickly pulled back and Francis whined in a high-pitched voice, “You’ve got the feel of the undead about you.”

“I’m human, but my husband is not,” she admitted, needing these people to trust her so they’d help track down the killer.

Brendon moved to the next were, a stunning mixed-race man of average height, but with a lean, powerful build. He had sharp features and a golden-eyed gaze that flitted from one to the other, hyper-vigilant.

“Baxter, chief were-eagle,” Brendon introduced, and Diana and her group shook his hand.

The last person was a handsome black woman with cinnamon-colored, close-cropped hair, and a look much like Baxter’s. It came as no surprise when Brendon presented her as Monisha, head of the were-falcons.

As they took their places at the table, it was painfully clear it was the weres against Diana’s group and Rafe, the outsiders.

She sat, and David took the spot beside her. As his arm grazed hers, it was wet with sweat chilled by the brief outdoor walk to the enclosure. She shot him a worried look and noted the perspiration glistening on his body and marking the edges of his undershirt. The climb up the two flights must have taxed him to the max, but nothing about his demeanor showed any hint of weakness.

This was the David of old, rising above adversity. Relief swept through her. Although he was generally laid back, she had always been able to count on his strength of mind and body when needed.

Tonight would be no different.

Maggie sat beside him, and to her right was Rafe. Although Diana hadn’t known him long, she knew instinctively she could rely on the firefighter, as well.

But she couldn’t avoid seeing the heated glances he shot at Maggie…
nor the way her friend deliberately avoided looking back at him.

Which might explain David’s determination to be strong.

Regardless, they were all here for a reason, and it was time to bring their needs to the table.

Diana looked around at each person sitting at the table. “The FBI suspects a shifter in a number of murders that have occurred over the past two months.”

“Brendon has told us of your concerns. Jefferson has been in and around this area,” said Francis, the were-rat.

“We’ve spotted him in the park, but that’s not unusual for a werewolf,” Baxter said after checking in with his falcon counterpart.

“The park is neutral ground for all the weres, although we eagles and falcons consider it our home,” Monisha said in imperious tones.

“It seems you’re all familiar with Brad Jefferson. What was it about him that first grabbed your attention?” David asked, falling into the familiar questioning pattern he and Diana had used as partners.

The five others exchanged worried glances, then Brendon spoke. “Most were not aware of Jefferson’s attempt on my life and the death sentence we imposed. Those kinds of issues are generally kept private.”

“But you all had your eyes on him, I’m gathering,” David said, and shot Diana a look, tagging her to continue the questioning.

“Rumors started circulating about dissatisfaction amongst the half-bloods. Someone was stirring up trouble, trying to incite them against the were-leaders,” Margaret said cautiously. “We were-rats are open-minded, but no half-blood has ever possessed the necessary attributes to assume leadership of the clan.”

“By attributes I assume you mean physical prowess?” Diana asked.

“It’s about more than power. It’s about controlling how you use it. Behaving responsibly for the good of the pack. Not an easy thing when you have as many members as we do,” Margaret’s husband, Francis, clarified.

Maggie jumped in. “And you believe Jefferson was fomenting this unrest?”

“We believe so, but can’t prove it. However, we have seen Jefferson down in the tunnels—an unusual place for a werewolf,” Francis said.

“He’s spent a lot of time in the park lately, in both human and were-form,” said Baxter, the were-eagle.

Monisha nodded in agreement. “He was there the night of the killing. The smell of blood pulled us from our nest,” she said, and risked a peek at Rafe. “You were there, too. I can tell from your scent.”

“Would you be willing to testify to that?” Maggie asked.

A disconcerting series of squeals and squawks of laughter arose, although the alpha wolf contained his amusement. He laid a kind hand on hers to soothe the sting of their reaction. “Jefferson will never face trial, Maggie. We take care of people like him on our own.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t sanction that kind of behavior,” he said, taking the lead before Diana erupted in anger.

“We didn’t ask your permission,” Baxter replied in a frighteningly cold tone.

“Are you implying this is going to be a question of who finds Jefferson first?” she asked with barely controlled calm.

The five leaders shared another grim look. Baxter leaned back in his chair. “As I said. We take care of our own problems.”

Chapter Twenty-three

David paused at the top of the stairs, grimacing down at the long series of steps to reach the ground floor. It had taken more endurance than he’d thought to make the climb to the rooftop enclosure. He wasn’t sure he could manage the descent on his own, but he was loath to display weakness in front of the were-leaders. Thankfully, most had already departed after the were-eagle’s pronouncement. That had pretty much halted any further discussion.

With a sly smile, as if to say they’d won the night, the were-rat couple had scampered down the stairs after the avian weres. Rafe had followed Brendon when the alpha had given him a come-with-me look, leaving just the humans on the terrace.

“I’ll go first,” he said, and at Diana’s protest, he said sardonically, “If I fall, I don’t want to take you down with me in your condition.”

“Let me help,” Maggie offered, and slipped next to him. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”

He was about to argue when Diana slashed her hand through the air with annoyance. “Don’t, David. We need you on this case, so please don’t be as pridefully stupid as those damn weres.”

He bit his tongue and did as Maggie asked, but said, “Actually, I got the sense that Brendon wasn’t fully onboard with their decision. Maybe because he’s been on the receiving end of Jefferson’s duplicity.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Diana said. “For tonight, let’s head home and rest up for tomorrow. We better find Jefferson before they do.”

With a nod, David handed her one of his crutches, and eased his arm around Maggie’s shoulders. She tucked hers around his waist, which brought her flush against his side. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy the feeling, since the muscles of his arms and legs shook from exertion, and sweat glistened on his body with the effort of climbing down the stairs.

His hip bumped hers, and the fullness of her breast pressed into his chest as they took the steps together in a slow step-shuffle. Her womanly fragrance filled his senses. Okay, maybe he could enjoy it. He gritted his teeth as desire awoke and his erection flared to life.

On the ground floor, it took him a minute to regroup, fight his exhaustion and arousal with deep breaths. He accepted the crutch from Diana so he could walk on his own, and
thunk
ed toward the entry. He didn’t want to linger in the club. It was getting late.

Outside, Brendon and Rafe waited for them, and Weasel hung impatiently nearby. The small bouncer quickly returned their clothes and hurried back to his position at the door.

Diana marched straight to the two werewolves. “You’re either with us or against us, Brendon. Which will it be?”

The alpha smiled and shook his shaggy head. “You always cut to the heart of the matter, don’t you, Special Agent Reyes? We’ll be on the hunt again tomorrow. I’ll call you if we find anything.”

Without waiting for a response, he sauntered away toward a nearby subway station, leaving Rafe behind looking slightly uncomfortable.

He said, “I’ll help in any way I can.”

“We know,” Maggie said, and brushed a hand along his arm, the intimacy of it creating a knot of jealousy in David’s gut. He told himself he had no right to be jealous. He’d left her.

But deep inside him, the alpha male he usually kept locked away wanted to claim her. Wanted to show her just how much he still cared.

“Let’s get out of here. We all need dinner and rest,” Diana said, and headed for his van. As they followed, he caught sight of a sleek black limo stopping next to it.

“Damn that Ryder,” Diana muttered with an exasperated sigh as the back window rolled down and her husband popped his head out.

“Hi. I thought you might need a ride home.” Ryder’s grin belied the deadpan tone of his voice.

Diana rolled her eyes and turned to them. “I’ll see you in the morning. Maggie, do you need a ride—?”

“I’ll drive her home,” David and Rafe both said at the same time.

Diana bit her bottom lip, her amusement leaking through. “Okay, then. I’ll leave you two to fight it out. Good night.”

She walked over and Ryder opened the limo door. Before it closed, David heard her say with only a hint of sting, “
Amorcito
, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

He smothered a smile and turned his attention to Rafe and Maggie, who stood awkwardly waiting for him.

“I’ll drive Maggie back,” he repeated, calmly and forcefully.

“I thought we might get a bite first,” Rafe said.

David countered with, “You’ve had your bite, as I recall.”

…

Bright color flooded Rafe’s cheeks, and the firefighter balled his fists. He took a step toward David.
Shit
, Maggie thought.

She jumped between them. “Enough! I’m right here, you know. And I can make my own decisions.” Lord, was she tired of the testosterone-fest.

Both men backed off. Thank God, she wouldn’t have to wade into a physical battle between the two. But that didn’t make what she had to do any easier.

Not that it would stop her.

She faced David, her gut twisting. Her body had responded to the close contact with him as they walked down the stairs. Desire had surged through her as she imagined them together again. She’d sensed his physical reaction to her, and his arousal had been impossible to miss.

She ached to go with him and satisfy that desire.

But he’d rejected her over and over during the past year. There was no reason to think that would change tonight.

Besides, she needed to know more about her condition and what she could expect. Only Rafe could give her that.

“I’m hungry and I need to talk to Rafe about some things,” she said.

She might as well have struck him. The blow to his pride caused a very visible reaction that made her wince.

“I understand,” he said woodenly, pushed away from her, and swung stiffly toward his van. “See you in the morning.”

He opened the door and threw his crutches onto the front seat. They clanged noisily, the angry sound amplifying the guilt that swept through her.

“Italian?” Rafe asked from beside her.

She turned. “Italian?” she echoed, confused.

“Yeah, do you want to eat Italian, or something else?” he asked as David slammed the van door and pulled away.

She tracked his route down the street, hoping she had not totally ruined their friendship. Though she knew an intimate relationship was no longer possible between them, she didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

“How about some coffee? I’ve lost my appetite,” she confessed, hoping Rafe would understand.

The lieutenant tucked his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I don’t stand a chance in hell, do I?”

Chapter Twenty-four

“It’s complicated.” Maggie slipped her suit jacket back on and walked along the block, heading in no particular direction.

Rafe sauntered beside her. “Yeah. I get that.”

Her heels clicked a beat against the sidewalk and street, the sound melding with the noise of the city, emphasizing the silence of the man at her side. They walked for several minutes, then she whirled to face him.

“There’s no need for you to tag along. I’m a big girl and I’ve got a gun.” She patted the holster under her arm.

Rafe grinned, displaying deliciously wicked dimples in his beard-stubbled cheeks. “Hell, that only makes you sexier.”

She snorted a laugh. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

He waved his hand at her body and merriment gleamed in his eyes. “Look at you, Mags. Do you seriously think I’m kidding?”

She should have been annoyed, but it was impossible. The playfulness in his demeanor was such a welcome change from the anger and anxiety that had filled him over their last few meetings. Still, she had to nip this in the bud. Wagging her index finger at him, she said, “Let’s get some things straight. Number one. Only my friends call me ‘Mags,’ and I don’t know if you’re a friend yet.”

“Ouch,” he said, and faked a grimace while clutching his heart.

She snapped up a second finger and mimicked his earlier motion, gesturing along her body. “Second. I’m more than just all this. I’ve got a brain, you know.”

“Definitely the sexiest part of any woman—her brain. And don’t forget a good sense of humor. It’s the laughter that keeps you going during the tough times.”

“Like now, you mean?” She started walking again, her pace more relaxed.

“Like now, Mags,” he agreed with a grin. Which was immediately followed by a loud rumble from his lean midsection. He winced and splayed a hand over his stomach. “Sorry. I skipped lunch today.”

“Me, too. Would you like to get something to eat?” She shot him a look from the corner of her eye. He was smiling ear to ear.

“There’s a great little pierogi place not far from here.” He pointed in the direction of St. Mark’s Place.

She paused, eyeing him. Considering. As she’d told him, she was a big girl and could take care of herself. She could handle him, too, no problem.

She smiled. “I love pierogies.”

…

The aromatic smells hit them as soon as Ryder and Diana walked into the condo.

“You went to Victor’s,” she said, and inhaled deeply. “My favorite. What’s the occasion?”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her as close as her belly would allow. “No occasion,” he lied, wanting her to enjoy the meal before having to discuss the news Melissa had brought him earlier today. “I’m betting you haven’t eaten since this morning, so I wanted you to have something nice for dinner.”

“And you know I don’t like it when you show up at my job, so you decided to butter me up.” She pushed up to her tiptoes to brush a kiss against his lips. “You’re in luck. I forgive you.”

“Glad to hear it,” he teased, and kissed her back, more hungry for her than for the food warming in the oven. At her needy moan, he hummed against her lips, content to know that she craved him, too.

Reluctantly pulling away, he slipped his hand into hers and tugged her into the dining room. He’d set the table earlier, and at the far end was a large vase filled with tropical blooms. She eyed them suspiciously. “You’re not having an affair or something, right? I mean, I appreciate all this, but—”

“A little over the top for a midweek meal? Let’s just say that while you’re off fighting crime, I get a little bored.” He held out her chair.

Once she was seated, he went to the kitchen to dish up the meal. She called out, “You could go visit The Lair or Otro Mundo. You do own them, you know.”

“I do, and I did,” he called back, spooning white rice onto a plate and covering it with the tasty
ropa vieja
that was her favorite. The shredded meat swam in a sea of tomato sauce flavored by sweet onions and topped with roasted peppers and peas. From another take-out container he scooped some ripe plantains. Walking back to the dining room, he said, “I also dabbled in some stocks today, and spoke to a real estate agent about buying another building. But I was still bored.”

Diana regarded him incredulously. “You’re bored even though you had such a busy day?”

He knew it was going to sound sappy, but he couldn’t deny the truth. “What can I say? I got used to you being around for all those months. It’s kind of empty around here with you gone so much.”

A hint of color blossomed on her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the plate. “This looks good. Thank you for thinking of it. For everything.” She darted a glance at the flowers.

“My pleasure,” he said, and dug into the meal. As a vampire he didn’t need the sustenance of food, but he could still appreciate the taste and the sense of fullness it provided. The simple rituals of eating or having a fine glass of wine somehow brought back a sense of humanity. Just as being with her, seeing her grow large with his child, had brought new, unimagined joy into his undead life. He wanted it to last forever.

Which reminded him…
But he didn’t want to think about what he had to tell her later. She wouldn’t take it easily. Him? The news had nearly brought him to his knees. But he couldn’t let her see that kind of fear in him. He had to be strong for her and for the child she carried.

But she must have sensed something was wrong. He had stopped eating, so he forced a smile to his face and picked up his fork again.

The speed with which she finished her meal spoke to her hunger, and as she covetously eyed the last sweet, ripe plantain on his plate, he forked it up and offered it to her. A flirty grin graced her lips as she accepted the morsel, chewed, and swallowed.

She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her belly. “Mmm. That hit the spot.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I slaved all day in that kitchen,” he teased, wanting to keep the mood light. Dreading the moment he would have to tell her. He even considered not doing it tonight. Maybe it was better for her to have a peaceful night before…

The soothing stroke of her hand against her belly halted, and her gold-green eyes settled on him assessingly.
Damn
.

He blew out a breath. He never had been very good at hiding things from her. He opened his mouth, but what came out was, “Let’s not talk about this tonight. It’ll keep.”

“You don’t have to say a thing,” she muttered, shaking her head. “It’s in your eyes. All over your face.”

No doubt her words were meant to spare him, but he didn’t feel relieved.

He waited for her anguish. For her tears. Instead, an accepting and peaceful expression slipped over her.

With a smile, she said, “I hope you remembered to get dessert. I think your daughter has as much of a sweet tooth as I do.”

His heart constricted.
His daughter
. How certain she seemed.

He forced a smile to his face, and offered, “How about some hot bread pudding with caramel sauce?”

She groaned in approval. “I’m yours. Take me.”

He leaned across the small distance separating them until he felt her warm breath spill against his lips. “You are,” he confirmed, and covered her mouth with his, sampling the only dessert he wanted that night. Or ever. “And I will.”

Her response was pure and certain as she joined him in the kiss, opening her mouth to sweep her tongue along his. They shared breath, rich and full of life, until she trembled and his body was ready to explode.

…

Diana’s head reeled with the feel of Ryder and the need he always roused. Today had not been as taxing, but the one thing she was looking forward to more than anything was just a quiet night spent in his arms. She pulled back and brushed a thumb across his lips in a final caress.

“I’ll get your dessert now,” he murmured. “I just had mine.” The heat in his gaze was unmistakable. Bits of the vampire’s neon bled into his dark depths.

He bolted from the room, taking the dirty dishes with him and leaving her to dutifully finish the glass of milk he insisted she have at dinner. Thankfully it was chocolate milk.

When he returned moments later, he carried only one plate with an enormous piece of bread pudding covered with caramel sauce. Her mouth watered at the sight, but she was certain she wouldn’t be able to finish it.

He set it down, and she noticed he’d brought two forks. “I thought you said you’d had your dessert. Don’t think you’re going to glom mine.”

“Never,” he said, and forked up a big piece of the pudding with a grin.

She ate, enjoying the creaminess and substance of the custard part against the sweetness of the sauce. “
Mmm
. My grandmother used to make a pudding just like this.
Mami
always tried to replicate it, but could never get it just right.”

Ryder grew serious for a moment, and said, “Speaking of your mother…
Rumor has it she’s planning to stay in New York.”

Diana stilled, her fork hanging directly over the dessert. “Stay? As in a little bit longer? Or something more permanent?”

“Something more permanent,” Ryder said, and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t eat any more.”

She laid down her fork, too. “Why would she want to stay here? Her friends are all in Miami. Her whole life has been down there.”

“But her children and grandchildren are here.”

Grandchildren
. Ah. She should have known.

And maybe having her mother close by wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Just in case…

She ran her hand back and forth across her belly, wondering yet again at the fate of her baby girl. Would she ever get to see her? Spend time with her? Watch her grow up and—

Ryder surged forward and put his hand over hers, stopping the nervous motion.

“It’ll be all right,” he assured.

She met his gaze, filled with doubt and confusion. “Do you think all mothers-to-be feel this helpless? That they worry all the time about what might happen?”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re asking the wrong person. But if I had to guess, I’d say some of what you’re feeling is normal. It’s a huge responsibility to bring a life into the world. It’s only natural you’re worried.”

She laced her fingers with his and pressed a little harder, feeling the baby do a somersault. They both smiled. “I relish these moments most because they’re so normal. So human,” she said. Then her smile turned wistful. “But we both know that’s a fantasy we’ve been living, don’t we?”

Ryder frowned. She knew he’d hoped to avoid this discussion, but to his credit he didn’t lie. “As much as I wish it was different, it isn’t. And we have to deal with what’s happening to you.”

She sucked in a deep breath and dragged her free hand through her hair. Looking away from him, she asked, “So tell me. What is happening?”

He tightened his hold on her hand, and she braced herself. “The cells are back,” he said. “Only a few, but Melissa doesn’t think you can risk the aphaeresis treatment.”

“Because it might hurt the baby,” she said, gripping his hand hard.

“It might, but so might the cells, if they continue to proliferate.”

She felt a single tear crest and trail slowly down her cheek. She hated for him to see her so upset, foreign as tears were to her. But she couldn’t help it. They spoke to the depth of her despair.

She finally faced him, her vision blurred by unshed tears, but feeling a deep well of resolve. “Just one more month, right?”

He frowned as though he didn’t understand her question at first, but she saw the instant her meaning struck. His face hardened. “True, the baby will be more viable at six months, but we’re not even going to consider that option yet. Especially since we don’t know if taking the baby will help.”

“Because these cells are also in her, right?” It was her worst nightmare.

He swallowed heavily, emotion riding his expression hard. “I’m not losing you.
Either
of you.” He stroked his hand across her hair, smoothing down some errant strands.

For long moments they remained that way, silently holding hands and soothing each other. Drawing solace from being together.

At length, she offered him a ghost of a smile. “I think I’ll turn in early. Tomorrow promises to be a busy day.”

She rose and grabbed the plate with what was left of their shared dessert, but he stopped her. “I’ll clean up. Why don’t you relax with a nice, long shower?”

Her smile broadened at the thought of a deliciously warm soak beneath the multitude of jets. “That’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She went upstairs to their bedroom where she undressed, and tucked her weapon into the nightstand along with her cell phone.

The shower was a decadently large enclosure tiled with marble and boasting at least half a dozen jets and shower heads that sprayed and rained in virtually every direction. She turned on the water, making it as hot as she dared, and wisps of steam soon filled the glass stall.

She stepped inside, letting the streams cascade over her. The warmth of the water was welcome, driving away both the physical chill of the winter day and the emotional chill inside her heart. She leaned her hands against one wall and just stood there, allowing the heat to penetrate her body. In slow degrees, the tension left her and she sighed with pleasure, peace finally settling over her.

The baby did a leisurely roll within her, as if also relaxing.

She bracketed her belly with her hands and the baby moved beneath her touch. Comfort flooded her as she imagined how her daughter might look and feel once she was born. But with the comfort also came concern.

She had never pictured herself as a mother. She couldn’t imagine how she would handle doing her demanding job at the same time. But millions of modern women did it every day. Surely, she could also.