Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (11 page)

When he finally managed to get himself more or less under control, he returned to his languid lean against the wall and watched me, still standing with my hands in fists at my side.

"So, tell me, kitten, what did you scent?"

I glared at him for a moment more and then resigned myself to the fact that I had created this little warped alliance. I could have stood my ground and kept my mouth shut. Let him rant and rave and worry at the bone for as long as he liked, but no, I had to go and open my mouth, like a stupid naive, trusting innocent.

It has been a long time since I could call myself innocent.

"Alison felt fear, desire, lust and guilt. The murderer felt amusement."

"Huh," he said. "That's... kind of impressive, kitten. What did you scent at the second murder scene?"

"Only the signatures and those emotions of the police and forensic team present."

"Why no emotions from the victim or murderer, do you think?"

"My guess," I said, thinking the puzzle through as I spoke, "was the murder was carried out somewhere else and the body dumped. Otherwise, the emotional scents would have registered."

"You're sure?" he asked, quietly.

I hesitated. Was I sure? Yeah, I was. My talent was specific, accurate and able to pick up scents from a considerable range. I had been able to sift through all those emotions present and determine with relative ease what they were and who they belonged to and none registered for the victim or murderer. If there had been scents there from them, I would have smelled them.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I said eventually, with a nod.

He smiled. "Good. I must admit, I am impressed. And tangling with the head of the Dark Fey police, admirable." I guess I now knew what
Herra
of the Grey Lords meant. Great. Jett gave my body another once over and then said, "You need to feed, but before you leave, you have a visitor out in the club."

I glanced up at his face. Maybe he was about to tell me off for meeting up with friends in the bar when I should be working. The only visitor I could imagine would be Kara.

"Ah, OK, who?" I ventured, as he didn't seem to want to say anything else.

"Detective Anderson." He watched me intently for a moment, but when I didn't visibly respond, hiding my slight surprise and then the instant tiredness at the task ahead, from my face.

"OK," I replied, moving off from the wall. "I guess I'd better see what I can find out from him, then."

I went to walk past Jett and his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. Thankfully the arm not attached to the still sore shoulder.

I felt his
Sanguis Vitam
wash through me in a healing wave. Ordinarily I would have put up a bit of a fight. The stronger the vampire, the harder it is to block their power, but even a level four master, such as me, against a level one, like Jett, can block to a certain degree. Or at least, make it hard for them to exact their desired result without effort. But, I needed all the help I could get tonight and if the Master of the City was willing to heal me before I had a chance to feed, then so be it. That I could live with.

His hand fell away from my arm and we both stood there, a little breathless. Using
Sanguis Vitam
in any form is an exertion, healing is relatively intimate too. I didn't say anything, just tried to hide my response to the, now more than ever, familiar sensation of his power. I should have thanked him, but I couldn't open my mouth without showing how affected I had been.

He cleared his throat and said in a gruff voice, "Don't feed from the cop, if you can help it."

And then he simply walked away.

I stood still in a little shock for a few moments, puzzling through the range of emotions I was experiencing. I could only put my slightly flustered response down to the fact that being the subject of a vampire's magical influence is still such a new thing to me. Everything in this crazy-ass world was new to me. Being manipulated by
Sanguis Vitam
still makes me catch my breath, regardless of the vampire wielding the power.

I focused on the task ahead instead, it seemed a safer bet. Although 'safer' was probably a misnomer. Trying to extract sensitive information regarding an ongoing case from a police detective I haven't been on talking terms with since high school, was not in fact safe. Stupid. Uncomfortable. Crazy even. But, not exactly safe.

Jett had said that Mark had some sort of natural mental block to deep mind manipulation. I had seen Jett glaze him at the police station, so influence to some degree was possible, but Jett had obviously not been able to get any precise information regarding the case from his mind. I could only assume Mark had a high moral compass. Divulging information regarding an ongoing case went against his natural beliefs. If that was the case and my glazing abilities weren't as good as the Master of the City - which is to be expected - then how the hell was I going to get him to divulge anything freely?

I forced myself to calm before I walked through the doors to the club. I had more immediate problems to battle than making an old friend talk against his better judgement. I was hungry and retracting my fangs took some effort and time. But, that was only the half of it. The minute I walked through that door I would be assailed with various scents. The most disturbing and dangerous right now being blood. I would immediately smell the blood in each human. Hear their heartbeats. Sense their life force. It would call to me in such a way that my eyes would bleed red, my fangs would flick back out and down, and I'd practically start to drool.

I could pop some contacts in, hide the red, but then I couldn't glaze and I was betting glazing to some degree was going to be essential right now. I can't feed on the premises. That would result in punishments from both Doug and Jett which I could not avoid. So, what did that leave?

Willpower. And a whole lot of attitude.

Yeah, that would do it.

Ah, fuck-a-duck. Why me?

The club was packed. It took a moment for me to stand against the onslaught of humanity that rocked into me as I walked through the door. I was purposely not breathing. A dangerous exercise, because if a Norm noticed, questions would undoubtedly be asked. But, despite my bold efforts to avoid
scenting
blood, I could
feel
it. My eyes darted from one pulsating carotid artery to another. In less than five seconds flat I had added up twenty possible victims.

Most vamps call them donors, but is it really donating when you don't have any say?

I shook my head and forced myself to scan the environment for the real reason I was here. I couldn't spot Mark, in amongst all those distracting humans. The part of me that is Nosferatin quickly assessed the number of vampires in the room. Their positions, their stances, their potential threat. I flicked a glance towards Doug behind the bar, a natural instinct as he is perhaps the greatest threat in the room when Jett is not present. Doug nodded in greeting, but didn't berate me for turning up late, instead he indicated a spot across the clubroom floor where Mark was waiting.

I hadn't seen him on my first sweep of the bar, he was sitting in a corner bench seat, but his back was to me. All I could see was his broad shoulder sticking out the side of the cubicle and his short, spiky brown hair over the top of the seat. The type of hair cut you'd expect on  military personnel. Brutal and honest. He was dressed in a slightly rumpled dark grey suit. Nothing compared to what Jett would wear, this one was definitely off the rack. I couldn't see his shirt colour or tie, but I was expecting something nondescript. A police detective wouldn't want to stand out in public. I wondered if his choice of clothing reflected his character at all. Mark had been popular in high school. Captain of the first fifteen, always with a cheerleader or two hanging off his arm. But also, always with a slightly bemused look on his face, as though he couldn't believe his luck and now that he was there, wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

I checked my fangs, relieved to find they were still retracted and braced myself for the walk across the clubroom floor. Time seemed to slow down, bodies moved in a languid, sensual motion about me, veins and arteries standing out in stark relief against smooth flesh. The heat of their bodies wrapping around me, making my movements flow, my body begin a seductive and enticing dance, my face adopt an inviting mask. By the time I was halfway across the floor I was in trouble.

I should have skirted the dancers, not blundered head first through the throng. But, now I was trapped. I realised I'd stopped moving forward and was simply swaying against the body of a young guy next to me. Dancing an hypnotic motion, body to body, heat wrapped, shrink wrapped to just me and him. His face was full of surprise and hunger. He recognised the invitation, he just misinterpreted what was on offer. I found myself smiling, my fangs miraculously still hidden. I could only assume it was the hunter in me, using every skill to catch my prey.

The lights in the club were ideally suited to mask the colour of my eyes. Tonight the hue was reds and purples, a middle eastern flavour which played nicely into my current hunger filled gaze. Any colour in my eyes could be contributed to the lighting. I wondered briefly if that had been the colours when I entered the room, or if they had just now changed to match my mood. And if so, how?

The guy's hands found my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of my rear, his groin pushed against mine as we swayed and moved and writhed a little in our own seductive world. I had no idea what the colour of his hair was, how good looking or not he happened to be. All I could see was his blood beneath his skin, all I could feel was his body and heat
against mine.

I was drowning and if I didn't get a handle on this I would face Doug and Jett's wrath.

They had made it quite obvious, to all those vampires in Auckland, just what feeding at
Sensations
would entail. They were always looking for an example to set. I did not want to be that example today. The only time feeding at
Sensations
was tolerated, was when it was a private vampire function. No Norms allowed. Tonight was not a private function, I was walking a tight-rope and about to fall off the side.

With shock, I realised my face was nestled into the curve of the guy's neck. My tongue had already laid a wet, hot line along his pulse point. My fangs were now down and out. Where had the time gone? What happened to the distance we had between us from just seconds before? My Dark Shadow growled in delight and anticipation, my Nosferatin side started to whimper and cry.

I groaned in realisation that there was nothing I could do to stop this. The guy groaned against me, no doubt thinking I was about to give him a hickey or something equally as crass. Then just as my fangs scraped against his skin, I was spun away from his body as a deeply English accented voice said, "May I cut in?"

Samson's scent - pine needles and musk - engulfed me, his strong arms wrapped around me and his hand in my hair pushed my face against his own neck. I'm not sure what he expected I would do, maybe he just wanted my fangs hidden from the crowd, but my Dark Shadow crooned in delight and I bit.

His whole body jerked against mine, his arms tightened and a low growl mixed with a decidedly sexy moan came from the back of his throat. I could tell he was having an instant response to my biting him, I could feel exactly where his mind had taken the moment to. I gasped at his reaction, thinking this was having way more of an affect on him than me. And then the taste of his blood hit my tongue.

My Dark Shadow all but did a dance inside, the vampire in me happier than I had ever felt before. I struggled against the onslaught of emotions that washed through me, his or mine, I couldn't tell, but they were delicious, decadent, divine. My body burned with a fire I hadn't experienced for months. The last time, in fact, had been in his arms before I had been turned. I hated that he still had this effect on me, but my body craved it all the same.

Oh God, I had fallen hard for this man when I first met him. His sexy looks, his sensual confidence, his English accent. He was
everything
I fantasised about in a man and for a while there, he had been all mine.

And then I had been turned and everything he'd ever been became a lie.

I felt hot tears on the skin of my cheeks, a sob escaped my lips. He softly whispered against ear, "It's all right, babe. I've got you." And finally, with the aid of his words, I managed to withdraw my fangs and lick the wound closed.

I leaned back in utter shock at what I had done. Biting a vampire in
Sensations
luckily didn't carry the same level of punishment that biting a Norm did. As long as it was carried out discreetly. Not that too many vampires go about biting each other though. That usually only occurs in battle; to punish, or with your vampire mate. My gaze was locked on the small bite marks which were slowly disappearing, Samson's gaze was locked on me.

A wicked smile curved his lips. "Consider it a love bite," he whispered, huskily.

I jerked my gaze up to his eyes, there was no way I could get a handle on his emotional scent, not that I had ever been able to do that with Samson. For some reason he has always been outside of my talent, I've just put it down to how angry I am when around him. Strong emotions, such as that, cause havoc on my skills. But, as I noticed the chocolate and taupe seeping into his eyes, the hunger that clung to them, matching the possession in his earlier statement, I realised this was the Samson I used to know.

Confident, sexy, flirtatious. From the moment I was turned he lost that part of him, carried around the guilt and blame for what had happened to me, guarded himself against my rejection. I had made him lose this side, but I was also grateful it had been missing. And now that I had bitten him, something so personal and intimate, that side of him was back.

I chose the safest route out of these murky waters. I chose to ignore it completely and focused on his earlier possessive statement instead.

"You have not 'got' me. I am not yours to get," I said very firmly.

His smile only widened further, making it almost impossible to hold my place in the face of all that beauty standing right before my eyes.

"Oh, babe. How wrong you are. Now, more so than ever, we are drawn to each other. Can you not feel it too?"

I had been drawn to him when I was human and at his words now, I realised how much stronger that feeling had become. I refused, however, to acknowledge it and pushed the problem that was my attraction to Samson, aside.

He looked at me intently and for a frozen moment I thought he might lean in and kiss me, bite me even, try to mark me with his
Sigillum
, as his own. But he did none of those things. His hand came up slowly to the side of my face and then his thumb ran across my lips softly.

"Feeling better?" he asked, quietly. Thankfully not pushing me any further on the whole drawn-to-each-other issue.

I ran my tongue across my lips before I had even realised what I was doing and noticed immediately that my fangs had retracted. Although the hunger was still present, it was now just a dull ache at the back of my throat. Manageable.

How was that possible? Vampire blood was not life sustaining. Only the life force of a human could nourish us. Although I would have to feed properly again soon, it would not have to be tonight. My body felt able to control the hunger, which under the circumstances, should not have been the case. I was vaguely aware that vampire mates could do this for one another, but the thought was thrust to the back of my mind as quickly as it surfaced. Samson was not my vampire mate.

I registered that shock would have been showing on my face, no doubt with a healthy dose of fear. Samson just looked intrigued. And sexy. I shook my head to clear that last thought and spun on my heel.

Coward
, my Dark Shadow admonished. I ignored her and slipped into the seat in front of Detective Mark Anderson - hands shaking, heart beating way too fast - startling him enough to make him spill his - by the looks of it - non-alcoholic drink.

A SubZero Vanilla Vodka mixer was placed in front of me from nowhere. I glanced up and caught Doug's eye. He winked. Mortification rolled through me. He knew what had just happened. He'd seen it all. Had anyone else? I felt my cheeks redden, which considering how hungry I had been before, only made me realise how much Samson had in fact nourished me. I stifled a groan and reached for the bottle, noticing Doug had placed it with SubZero's label pointing toward Mark. Subtle Doug. Really subtle. But, maybe it would be a help.

I glanced up at Mark who had been watching my cheeks with great interest, he smiled when he noticed my attention had finally swung towards him. He really was a good looking guy. Handsome. Great presence. Shining blue-grey eyes. Made a decent career from himself with the police. He'd be a good catch. Shame I wasn't fishing. Well, not on my own time anyway, Jett had other plans as far as my social life was concerned.

Which brought me back to why I was sitting across a table from an old high school acquaintance in my boss's bar whilst still on the clock.

"Hey, thanks for stopping by. Hope I didn't keep you waiting long," I offered and gave him my sweetest smile.

His responding smile stunned me. Not only because it was gorgeous, Mark is definitely a catch, but because it was genuine. I wasn't using an ounce of
Sanguis Vitam
, but still this guy was happy to see me. Miraculous.

"I was stoked you phoned," he answered in a deep voice, running his gaze appreciatively over the length of my body that he could see. "You look great, Gigi. Really great."

I smiled back at him, it wasn't hard. He was such a lovely guy, even his compliments were given with complete conviction. I really believed he was happy to see me and that he thought I looked great. I took a drink from my Vodka Mixer and started playing with the label, peeling bits and pieces off here and there. I might have liked his compliments, but it didn't mean I was totally comfortable with them.

"So," I started, thinking frantically of how to broach the subject of Alison's murder case without being too obvious. "What's it like being a cop... um... police detective?"

He laughed. "That's OK, you can call me a cop. There are worse names." His blue-grey eyes twinkled in the lights of the room, I wondered what colour they would be in the sunlight. They seemed so pale and distant, like a storm threatened sky, but I had a feeling, in the right natural light, they would be deeper, stronger, more compelling. "It's pretty crazy actually." That statement made him look at his watch and caused a shift in his position. I guessed he suddenly realised he was on tax payers' time and this little conversation was not at all appropriate. My telephone message had been wrapped in layers of
Sanguis Vitam
in order to get him here. To keep him here I'd have to resort to a glaze or my natural abilities.

"I never picked you for going down the police line in school, you were good at sciences weren't you? I thought you'd head to Uni," I said, drawing his attention back to me and away from his watch.

"You remember what subjects I took in school?"

Hints of cotton candy and caramel popcorn settled in the air between us. He was happy that I had remembered. I smiled back him and nodded enthusiastically. Let him think I harboured romantic thoughts back at school and hadn't been able to forget him since. He smiled in return and took a sip of his drink shifting into a more comfortable position on his side of the table.