Bound to Shadows (2 page)

“How long have you been on duty here?”
“I just came on shift. The boss asked me to help out these officers, in case some of the
customers got antsy about being detained.”
I glanced at the cops. The older of the two nodded in confirmation. I returned my gaze to
Valentine. He wasn’t looking at me. He was studying the street, as if he expected something to
happen. Though I guess having a dead vamp on your back doorstep and cops on your front would be
enough to make anyone jumpy. “How many people are inside at the moment?”
He shrugged. “Maybe twenty customers, and half that again of vampires.”
Interesting that the vampires weren’t considered customers. “And who’s in charge
tonight?”
“Dante Starke.”
“The boss himself?”
The bouncer’s gaze flicked briefly to mine then moved on again. “He lives here.”
That surprised me. The old warehouse was as grimy and as run-down as the rest of the buildings in
this area. Surely a wealthy businessman would prefer a more … well, if not opulent, then less
dangerous area to reside in? But maybe the key word was “wealthy.” He might be a vampire, he
might own a nightclub, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was rich.
“Could you please tell Mr. Starke that I’ll need to speak to him?”
He looked at me again, then nodded. His gaze became slightly unfocused, and a buzz of energy
caressed the air. He had to be a newer vampire. Any vampire with more than a few years behind him
had learned not to let anyone know when they were using telepathy.
I stepped past the cops and pushed the nightclub’s door open. The smell hit me immediately. It
was a miasma of hunger and lust, of humanity and vampire, all entwined with the aroma of sweat,
booze, and blood. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Normally I loved the scent of lust when it rode
on the air, but this was different. This had an almost desperate edge to it.
Which made sense, since the club was catering to those addicted to vampire bites.
I stepped into the darkness. The door shut behind me, closing out the light and making the
shadowed confines of the room appear even more unfriendly.
That
feeling was coming from the vampires in the room, not the
humans. The majority of the humans were either busy boozing or getting their fix.
I scanned the room, taking note of the black walls and carpets—and wondering if they chose that
color because it made the blood less noticeable. Booths lined three of the walls, some with
curtains, some without. A good fifteen of these were currently occupied, and it was from them
that the lusty scent was the strongest. A small dance floor filled the front half of the room,
but hardly anyone was on it. There were quite a few vamps sitting at the tables in front of the
bar that lined the fourth wall. None of them seemed to be drinking, but all of them were
brooding.
I could feel it—feel the heat of it rumbling along the edges of my thoughts. They weren’t trying
to get into my head, just sharing their unhappy vibe.
It made me glad that Cole and his team were right next door in the parking lot.
I walked across to the bar. The bartender strolled over, idly drying a glass and chewing gum.
“What can I do for you?”
I showed him my badge. “I believe your boss has been informed that I need to speak to
him?”
There was a slight pause, and though I didn’t feel the caress of energy, I knew he was
communicating with said boss. After a moment, he nodded and said, “He’ll be down in a minute. Do
you need a drink?”
“Not yet.” Though I definitely might by the time I finished this gig.
I turned around and let my gaze sweep the room again. The humans who were engaged in drinking
rather than being drunk from were all clustered around the far end of the bar. Most of them were
women, and all of them looked as unhappy as the vamps.
Though I heard no footsteps, awareness tingled across my skin. I shifted my gaze and saw a
golden-haired man walking toward me—although “drifting” would have been a more accurate term,
because his feet didn’t appear to touch the carpet. Then again, he knew exactly what had been
spilled on it.
“Dante Starke,” he said, coming to an effortless halt several feet away.
His scent swirled around me, and though I’d been expecting him to smell as bad as his club, he
didn’t. He was orange blossom and dark spices, a combination as elegant as the man—and one that
stirred the embers of desire deep in the pit of my stomach. Even Quinn didn’t smell
this
good.
I shoved the thought away and concentrated on the vamp rather than his delicious scent. If Starke
was a pauper, then his suit certainly didn’t advertise it. I’d seen enough suits on Quinn to
recognize the cut and quality of a Zegna, and they certainly weren’t anything the average Joe
would be buying off the rack in any old department store. But as classy as the gray pinstripe
was, it was the man wearing the cloth that drew the eye. He was power, passion, and beauty all
rolled into a six-foot-four-inch golden frame, and he seemed totally out of place in this
run-down dump.
I ignored his offered hand, not wanting to touch his flesh when my inner wolf was taking so much
notice, and showed him my badge. “We’re investigating the murder in the parking lot behind your
club.”
“So I’ve been informed.” He crossed his arms, his expression bored. And yet his golden eyes were
alert and hungry, reminding me of a hawk with its prey in its sights.
A tremor went through me, though I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was fear or something else.
Damn it, I was a werewolf who’d found her soul mate, so technically I shouldn’t feel
anything
for
anyone
other than the man I was destined
to spend the rest of my life with. But of course, things were never that simple for me. Not only
did I have Quinn as my lover, but I didn’t
want
Kye—my said soul
mate—anywhere near me.
And now it seemed I was attracted to this man. Or vamp. Or whatever the hell he was.
Sometimes I wished fate would just stick to the rules when it came to my life. It would have made
things a whole lot easier.
“How can I help the Directorate, Ms. Jenson?”
His voice was like buttered honey, smooth and rich. I licked my lips and tried to shake the lust
from my thoughts. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, then I’d like somewhere a little more
private to interview each of your guests.”
One golden eyebrow arched upward, and part of me ached to lean forward and kiss it. Damn, this
was weird.
“You don’t actually need my permission to do either of those things.”
“No, but given the current climate, I’ve discovered it makes things easier to be
polite.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose you could be right.” He waved an elegant hand toward the
door just behind the bar. “My office is through there. Would that be suitable?”
“Perfectly. Thank you.”
“Good.” His fingers touched my spine, lightly guiding me toward the door. It was a heat I felt
all the way down to my toes. “Boris, a bottle of champagne for the two of us, please?”
“Not for me. I’m working.” I opened the door and stepped away from his touch.
“Surely even the Directorate would not begrudge their guardians a sip or two?”
“My boss is rather old-fashioned when it comes to mixing alcohol and work.”
The office was sparsely furnished, with a filing cabinet, an old desk neatly stacked with books
and paperwork, a leather office chair that had seen better days, and a coat stand. The only
luxurious items were the two plush, burgundy velvet armchairs. I walked over and sat in the one
closest to the door.
It didn’t make me feel any less trapped.
God, what was it about this man that was getting to me? Hell, I’d faced a god of death. One
golden vampire shouldn’t have worried me in the least.
And yet he did.
“Ah, but this isn’t mere alcohol,” he said softly, seductively, “but rather the finest ambrosia
ever made.”
I shrugged. “He’d still class it as off-limits.”
“Tragic.” He sat down and crossed his legs, the action elegance itself. One shiny shoe briefly
touched my calf, and delight shimmered up my leg.
I shifted fractionally. Amusement twitched at his lips.
“What is it you wish to know, Ms. Jenson?”
“What do you know of a vamp called Grant Haven?”
Starke didn’t answer immediately, waiting as the bartender came into the room and deposited a
bottle of Bollinger champagne and two glasses on the table. Once he was gone, Starke picked up
the bottle, popped the cork with ridiculous ease, and began pouring it.
“Please, none for me.”
“Ms. Jenson, it is totally uncivilized to be sitting here without partaking of one of life’s
great pleasures.” He held out the glass of liquid gold, his gaze meeting and holding mine. The
hunger was stronger in those watchful depths, and suddenly I wasn’t so sure he was talking about
the champers. “And I refuse to answer questions until you at least take a sip.”
“I could just haul your ass down to the Directorate for questioning.”
“You could,” he admitted calmly, “but that would cause a rise in the ill feeling you’re so
desperate to avoid.”
He had me there. So I accepted the glass, careful not to touch his fingers in the process. The
delicate lemon and grapefruit notes teased my nostrils, making my mouth water. I’d become
something of a champagne freak since I’d begun hanging around with Quinn, and Bollinger, with its
fresh flavor and teasing under-notes of fruit and coffee, was one of my favorites. I took a
sip.
“There,” I said. “I’ve upheld my end. Now answer the question.”
He smiled again, and my stomach knotted in response. “Haven is one of the regulars here. He
services my guests.”
“So the vamps here are under your employ?”
“Not all of them, no. Haven wasn’t, but this place was close to his café and handy for a nightly
top-up.” He took a sip of champagne, then sighed. It was a sound of sheer pleasure, and it curled
around me as lovingly as a caress. “There is no sweeter taste than the nectar of the
gods.”
“Oh, I could think of one or two things that are better,” I said, trying to keep it light. Trying
to ignore the net of hunger that he seemed to be spinning around me. “Hazelnut coffee, for
instance. I’d die without my daily dose of
that.”
“Good coffee is a must, although I’m not sure hazelnut could be classified as good.” His
heavy-lidded gaze met mine again, and something hot unfurled inside me. “Though I do agree that
there are things in this life whose sweetness equals that of champagne. The juices of a woman in
the throws of ecstasy, for example.”
The words were barely out his mouth and I was imagining him between my legs, licking and teasing
and savoring. I blinked and the image shattered, leaving me aching and hungry.
“Will you stop that?” I said sharply.
“Stop what?” he asked, the innocence in his voice at odds with the wicked smile teasing his lips
and the dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Spinning the seduction web. I’m here to find a killer. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I weave no web. I merely enhance what is already there.”
“You can’t enhance it because it
isn’t
there, so start concentrating
on answers.” My voice was sharp. “Otherwise I
will
arrest your ass
and drag it down to the Directorate.”
He merely shrugged. Which probably meant he’d tone it down but not give up. “What else do you
wish to know?”
I crossed my legs and took another sip of champagne. The cool liquid didn’t do a whole lot to
ease the fires burning within.
“Why do you employ some vamps and not others? Don’t you get enough vampires in here to cater to
the needs of your human customers?”
“This club is not one of the more popular ones, but we still get plenty of humans in on the
weekends.” A small smile teased his lips, briefly drawing my gaze. “The vampires I don’t employ
are the ones I know I can trust
not
to go too far. There are fewer
problems that way. The others help act as additional security should the need arise.”
“So Haven has never acted as one of your bouncers?”
“No.”
“Then did he ever serve someone and perhaps go a little too far?”
The small smile became full-blown, and my toes curled in response. Damn, that was one
hot
smile. “Despite the way my establishment looks, we run an orderly
club. There are very few problems here.”
I took another sip of champagne and decided Quinn really needed to get a case of this stuff.
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“No, he has never caused any problems. He’s actually been on vacation for the last couple of
weeks. Tonight was supposed to be his first night back.” He paused to take a drink. “I never knew
they had pretty guardians. I find it quite refreshing.”
“Considering most guardians are vampires who don’t actually wash a lot, that’s not really the
compliment you think it is.”
His expression became contrite, but I didn’t believe it for a second. “It’s very remiss of me to
make such a remark, then. I shall endeavor to make it up to you.”
“Don’t bother. Do you know if Haven had any problems in his personal life?”
Starke raised his eyebrows. “Why would you think I’d know—or even care—about the intimate details
of my friends’ private lives?”
“Because you seem the type of vampire who likes to know these sorts of things.”
“You could be right.” He flashed me a smile that was as playful as it was sensual. “I could tell
you two truths right now, in fact.”
“Well, I’m not here to hear lies, Starke.”
He put the glass down on the table then leaned forward, so that his long golden body was only
inches from mine. Tension ran through me, yet I honestly couldn’t say it was totally due to the
readiness to fight. Part of it—a tiny, dark, and altogether
stupid
part—was sexual.
“I know, for instance,” he continued, his voice as smooth as silk, “that if I took you in my arms
and kissed you right now, you’d fight. Eventually. Yet there would be several moments beforehand
when you would melt into that kiss and enjoy the passion of it.”
I didn’t bother refuting it. I couldn’t when my heart was beating like crazy at the mere thought
of that kiss.
“And the second truth?”
It came out somewhat breathless, and he reached forward, taking my free hand in his, turning it
over and gently caressing my wrist. His skin was smooth against mine, his fingertips warm. And
the caress …