Department 57: Rubies of Fire (16 page)

“You need me. I’m his friend. We’re close. You need someone close to him to track him.” Never in his whole career had he allowed his personal feelings to interfere with doing his job, but this time Andreas was tempted. His whole being rebelled at the thought of leaving to travel halfway across the world when his friend could be in danger. And what about Roz?

As though Cristos had heard the last thought, he turned to the topic. “I’ll arrange for Roz to go too.”

That was a relief.
If
she wanted to go. If she didn’t…

The realization hit him like a fist to the gut. She’d never be happy with him there. She left a husband there, a man she’d loved, a man who’d betrayed her and then been killed before she could come to terms with her feelings. He couldn’t take her. It wouldn’t be fair. The memories London would be sure to bring back to her would probably turn her against him. “She might not want to go. Do you know her history?” He wouldn’t betray her by saying it out loud.

“Shit!” Oh yes, Cristos knew all right. “I’ll leave the decision up to her, then. But you, Andreas, you’re under orders. I want you in London and soon. We have to start operations before they cripple us or force us to change. So you,” he said to Andreas, “are to go to London.”

“What is it? Afraid I’ll lose it?”

When Cristos gave him that frank stare, Andreas knew he was about to hear something he’d rather not. “Frankly, yes. If you find his kidnappers, you’ll kill them. You’re a good field agent, Andreas. The only fault I’ve found in you is your quick temper, but you’ve always been able to control it before. I don’t think you’ll bother this time. And I want these people alive if possible, plausibly dead if not. Shot or wounded. Not left with all the blood drained out of them but the one small speck that stops them turning vampire.”

Andreas couldn’t stop his smile of satisfaction at the thought of this scenario. He’d never killed, not that way, but this time he’d take great satisfaction in doing so.

Fuck, Cristos was right! He’d kill and not even stop to think about it. He cared, truly cared, about very few people, but Fabrice was one of them, a man who’d gotten past all his defenses, even his indifference to other people, and become the closest friend he had.

But Cristos was another of those people, and he had no choice but to listen to him.

“Andreas, no. I want Fabrice back as badly as you do, but I won’t let two of my best agents die in this operation. I really do need a good agent to follow this lead. I’m setting up a team to continue in London under Will Grady, and I want you as part of it. Don’t do anything stupid.” He stepped away and stared out the window at the building opposite, another rank of flat, glass windows gleaming dully in the last light of day. “We’ll find him. I swear it. And I’ll tell you as soon as we do. I swear that too.”

Why did he always have to be right?

Chapter Eleven

When Andreas appeared in her bedroom, Roz only just restrained herself from flying into his arms, romance-style. That would have been too much, but she couldn’t stop her need to see him. It scared her. He was getting too close, too fast. She didn’t know him. She didn’t want him that much; she couldn’t.

Could she?

But when he walked to her and wrapped her in his arms, she responded enthusiastically, lifting her face for a deep kiss of greeting, feeling his thoughts envelop hers warmly, blending with them.

And what he said when he finally lifted his head could have come from her own mouth. “You think there’s something to all this soul mate stuff? Is there one mate just made for one person?”

It took all her strength of mind not to scoff, but she managed it. “It’s in all the stories, but since we’re not Beauty and the Beast, I think we can rest easy.”

His hands were busy at the front of her blouse, slipping buttons through holes. “I don’t want to rest easy. Roz, I want to be inside you, fucking you. Now. Or better still, five minutes ago.”

Since she felt the same way, she didn’t object, and since she seemed to be stripping him as fast as he was stripping her, the next few moments were taken up with the hiss of zippers, the slide of cloth, and small sighs when clothing gave way to warm, living flesh.

He took a moment to step back and sweep his gaze comprehensively over her—head to foot and back again, his eyes fiery coals—before he surprised her by spinning her around. When he stroked down her back with the very tips of his fingers, she shuddered. He let his touch wander down, past the cleft in her buttocks, lingering, then passing on until he found the bud at the front of her sex and gave it a stroke in greeting. He felt desperate for her, but she felt the same, urgency taking her over in a great wave.

He drew her hard against his aroused body, his cock pushing against her bottom and lower back as though it had a mind of its own, blindly trying to find a way in while his hands curved around the front of her body, cupping her breasts, pinching, stroking.

When he finally pinched her clit, her whole body stiffened, her head went back against his shoulder, and he swooped to take her mouth once more in a swift, hard kiss. “Sweetheart, you are something else,” he murmured before he drew back and entered her, so suddenly she gasped. She hadn’t been quite ready, so his swollen flesh pushed hers aside, forced its way in, not painfully—she was too aroused for that—but enough to tell her he was taking her in the way he wanted.

Moaning, she pressed her bottom hard against his groin and received a gasp in return. He bit her shoulder, and his fangs grazed the sensitive place where her pulse throbbed.

“Oh yes! Take me every way you can!”

He shoved her forward, so she flung out her hands to steady her fall and found the hard surface of the trunk at the bottom of her bed.

The trunk was low, forcing her ass up and into him even more. The sounds of their lovemaking, wet flesh slapping against wet flesh, drove her higher, and the tingle inside began as his fingers resumed pinching and stroking her clit. His balls smacked against her upper thighs, each contact making her moan. All she could do was push back. The trunk gave her leverage, and she bent her legs a little to increase the angle.

God, he was so deep, deeper than any man had ever been before. The unavoidable peak came closer, and she concentrated on it, went deep, felt him with her.

“Roz, you are so fucking sexy. You should see this!”

He leaned back a little, and a vivid picture entered her mind, straight from his.

Their joining, as she’d never seen it before. His cock hammering into her, each stroke deeper, harder, penetrating her more each time, driving her up until—

“Ahhhh!”

He pierced her climax, sharp and sparkling, by leaning forward and sinking his fangs into the side of her neck.

He gave and took at the same time, bathing her in his hot essence, drawing her blood into his body, making them one, pulsing hotly, neck and pussy, until she screamed, though whether for more or for him to stop she wasn’t sure.

When he collapsed on her, she felt his tongue gently bathing the marks he’d just made in her neck. His tongue trembled. Then he slid his arms around her and drew her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured.

He lifted her and carried her to bed, as tender as he’d been violent a moment before, tucking her up before sliding in next to her and curling her body into his. She sighed against his shoulder, replete.

She had almost drifted off to sleep when he turned her head to face him. What she saw in his eyes tensed her anew. “I love you, Roz,” he said. When she would have replied, he pressed his finger briefly against her lips. “It doesn’t need an answer. It is what it is. That’s all.”

She smiled under his finger and kissed it. “The feeling is entirely mutual. I love you, Andreas Constant.”

His slight smile as he lowered his head to take her in a gentle, sharing kiss was one she would never forget.

* * * *

Andreas’s mind was definitely on other things as he packed to go to London later that evening. As fast as he could, because he needed, wanted to tell Roz, to hear her tell him she’d be there for him, that half a world was no distance for a vampire, that she would come with him.

If she came with him, he’d know she’d banished the specter of her husband, and the war that had caused her so much anguish.
Please, let her offer.

He wouldn’t count on it, and he wouldn’t ask her. But he couldn’t bear the thought of spending significant time away from her. He could flash to her, but the time difference would mean he got little or no sleep, and he wouldn’t be able to do his job that way.

When the knock came, he stopped briefly enough to scan whoever was outside before he tore open the door and dragged her inside. “What the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be in this neighborhood alone, Ellie. God knows what might have happened to you!”

The child grinned. “I needed to feed. Besides, I lived in this area before. When I still thought vampires turned into bats and slept in coffins, and wondered what was wrong with me.”

“Sure.” Not for the first time Andreas wondered at the resilience of this girl, who had lived on her own for at least twelve months as a newly mature vampire, a girl who’d done all he had, but at an earlier age and a more vulnerable sex. “Here?”

“Yes. Just another skanky kid. Nobody noticed me much, and if they did, I snacked off them.”

“You were lucky you didn’t kill anyone.”

She shrugged. “Something told me not to kill, or I’d be the one to suffer. I was right, wasn’t I?” She wrinkled her nose and looked around. “Eugh, it stinks in here! You don’t live here?”

“No. I’m looking for a new apartment. This is temporary. You know where my real home is, Ellie.”

“Upstate.”

“Right.” He’d taken Ellie there when he’d first bought the place, but she didn’t like it. The wide-open spaces creeped her out, she said. It wasn’t her idea of paradise. Ellie had a pleasant apartment in a respectable burb, one her salary from Cristos paid for, better than most students could usually hope for. “But I need somewhere in town. Somewhere small, somewhere close to the office.”

“You could sell that house and buy something really nice in Manhattan.”

“Something small and poky. I’m not rich, Ellie, any more than you are.” He turned away, checking he’d put all his personal belongings in his backpack. He’d left clean sheets on the bed and a few things in the corner where the stove was, the place the landlord optimistically called “the kitchen area.” He’d given his notice. No sense in staying. “You heard, then?”

“Heard what?” She scuffed the toes of her sneakers on the bare wooden floor. “I ain’t been in the office today. Had lessons all day and some homework to finish afterward.”

He sighed. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her. “I’m leaving on assignment.”

“Where?”

“London. Following a lead.”

“No!”

Her instinctive cry shocked him. “Hey, distance doesn’t mean that much to us. I haven’t practiced flashing that far, but I will. I need to come back a lot, so I can see you and—”

“Roz?” Ellie’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “Well, you won’t have to worry about her much longer. I saw her.”

“Where?” He wasn’t very concerned. Ellie wouldn’t have seen much more of Roz today than he had.

“With Fabrice, earlier.”

This caught him up short. He dropped the backpack, ignoring the dull thud as it hit the floor. “What are you talking about, Ellie?”

Ellie stuck her hands in her jeans’ pockets, staring up at his face, eyes wide and sincere. “I needed to feed, and because of Jenna’s show, I left it till late. Hey, Jenna did good. She sold nearly everything she showed. The gallery wants more.”

“Tell me about Roz.”

Something in his tone must have warned her, because she took a step back. “Okay, okay, I was getting to that.” She swallowed. “Last night, just after sundown.”

Just before they’d met at her apartment. And yet she hadn’t mentioned it to him, even before the vampires had arrived? Or this morning, when the meeting’s significance became obvious? It couldn’t be possible. “Go on.”

Ellie took a deep breath. “She had her back to me, but I skimmed her mind and saw the sigil. It was Roz, all right. She was laughing with Fabrice, and there was a man with her, someone I don’t know, but I skimmed his mind too. He was a mortal. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I didn’t want to stay in anyone’s mind. I didn’t think anything much about it, to be honest. I was hungry, so I just went on and found someone to feed from.”

“Where did you see them?”

“Seventh Avenue.”

What were they doing there? It could have been anything. Just because Roz had forgotten to tell him didn’t mean she knew anything. She could have bumped into Fabrice and stopped to chat. Perhaps she’d forgotten to mention it. Impossible. She knew, and yet she’d failed to mention it. Even if it was a chance encounter, she should have told them. But he hadn’t seen her yet. That must be it. She’d have told Cristos by now that she’d met up with Fabrice. Or maybe Ellie had mistaken the night she saw Roz. He’d ask Roz later.

He grasped Ellie’s shoulder, noting her slight flinch. Even Ellie doubted him, just for a minute, so why shouldn’t he feel that nagging doubt about Roz? He’d talk to her, and she’d reassure him. “Clear your mind. Let me read you.”

“Okay.”

He saw it and felt the reality, the truth of what she told him. She’d seen Roz, or she thought she had. The details grew clearer. But maybe she’d been mistaken, seen someone else. The figure moved, and he saw Roz. Oh shit. But such a small thing—maybe Roz had forgotten.

“Ellie, do me a favor?”

She nodded but bit her bottom lip as she looked at him.

“Don’t tell anybody what you just told me. At least until I’ve seen Roz and asked her about it. Chances are it means nothing, something she forgot to mention to me.”

“At the very least it means she was one of the last people to see Fabrice before he was kidnapped. She should have told Cristos.”

Roz could have spoken to Cristos by now; she’d had all day. Or Ellie could be mistaken about the night. He’d find out for sure later.