Death’s Sweet Embrace Page 8

  Kitt took the warm, dry grip with a nice firm shake. There was no jolt of recognition or flood of overwhelming maternal feelings, but it did feel nice.

  Seph just stood and gave a minute incline of her head before she left the room.

  Cal followed, but stopped at the door and turned to look at Kitt. “I’m glad we’ve finally met. Raven spoke about you all the time.” And then she was gone.

  After the girls left, Kitt slumped back in her chair and took another swig from the flask. It was obvious Cal was the more outgoing of the two, and Seph reminded her of Raven, with the same reserve. The road was going to be a little tougher with her. It hadn’t exactly gone as she’d dreamed it would, but then again it could’ve been worse. After all, they had come to her.

  Kitt entered the Bunker and Antoinette looked up from behind several piles of reports, her frown of concentration smoothing into a welcome smile.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Okay, I think. Thanks for this.” Kitt flopped into the chair opposite and passed over the flask. “And I met the twins.”

  “How did that go?” Antoinette sat back ready to listen.

  Kitt sighed and shrugged. “I guess I’ve been imagining our reunion for over eighteen years, but never really expecting it.” She picked up a report sitting on top of the pile to change the subject. “What’s all this?”

  “Murders going back over the last couple of months. I’m trying to work out the dreniac hunting grounds by tying the murders to possible dreniac feeds.” Antoinette held up the buff-colored folder. “This one, for example, is a storeowner stabbed several times during a robbery. Investigators assumed he just bled out into a drain near his body. Yet the stab wounds were made in the shoulder, wrist, and groin. No fang marks to attract attention, but the knife wounds correspond with key feeding areas on a body. This lot is far too smart.”

  “So you think it could be the work of a dreniac gang?”

  “Sure of it. There are several others they’d most likely be responsible for, but we could never pin it on them. I’m just trying to find a pattern so we can work out where they might strike next. I’m dividing them into categories—definites, possibles, missing persons, improbables.” Antoinette placed her hand on the largest of the piles. “This is the possibles. I have managed to find one thing, though.” Antoinette passed her one of the files. “Recognize her?”

  Kitt opened it up to find a missing person’s report complete with a smiling photo of a Boston college student. The kind of picture you find on the family home mantel or in the school yearbook. Her ash blond hair was pulled neatly back, highlighting her clear, healthy complexion and bright eyes. Vastly different from the strung-out dreniac in torn stockings with ratty hair that had been feeding on the wrist of a human in a dirty back alley.

  Antoinette rested her elbows on the desk and linked her fingers. “She was reported missing over three months ago. The Boston police are informing her parents as we speak.”

  Kitt looked at the stacks of files, especially the possibles pile. “There has to be over fifty here. Wouldn’t someone have noticed dreniacs were active in the area and called in the Guild?”

  “Ah—but as I’ve said, they’re smart and hide their tracks well, something not usually associated with dreniacs. They don’t fit the usual profile. In these files there are robberies, holdups and kidnappings. Some victims have just bled out and look like simple murders or even suicides. Dreniacs usually drain their victims; but to get the high, all they have to do is take the blood while the heart beats the last beat. They can forgo the rest if they’re not real hungry.”

  “So you’re saying they masked their killings—dreniacs don’t do that.” Kitt picked up a report of a young girl’s beheaded body found on the side of the road, thought to be a hit-and-run accident.

  “No, but then again, they don’t live and hunt in packs either. When I found them in that fleabag hotel, it looked like they’d been there for weeks, maybe longer.”

  Tones came out of the communications room and beamed. He raced over, his excitement almost palpable.

  “I’m glad I found you two together.” He turned around a print of a black-and-white arrest photo. “Is this the Aeternus you saw in the alley?”

  Antoinette took the page and glanced at it. “Could be, but Kitt got a better look.” She passed her the picture. “What do you think?”

  The woman in the photograph had streaked and running mascara, hollow eyes, and messy hair, but Kitt recognized the sneer immediately.

  “That’s her,” she said, glancing from one to the other.

  “I knew it.” He took the photo back, pleased with himself. “As soon as you described her, I knew it was Marvella.”

  “Marvella?” Antoinette leaned back in her seat.

  If he had a tail, Tones would be wagging it like there was no tomorrow. “Marvella Marie Molyneux, from an old New Orleans Aeternus family. She had some success in the eighties as a rock star by the name of Marie Vella. When groupies and hangers-on started disappearing, they discovered she’d been feeding them to a bunch of dreniacs she had locked in the tour bus. Apparently, she got off on the killing and then had sex with dreniacs while they were still in the throes of their death-high. She was arrested and put into a maximum security parahuman prison, but escaped about a year ago. Some suspect she was helped.”

  “So she’s not a dreniac, but a twisted Aeternus like Dante Rubins,” Antoinette said.

  Tones’s smile slipped at the mention of the monster’s name and glanced at Kitt before nodding slowly. A now-familiar hollow sensation settled in the pit of Kitt’s stomach with the mention of Dylan’s killer, though the feeling wasn’t as heavy as it used to be. Maybe I’ve finally started to move on? Time would tell.

  “Looks like she’s returned to her old ways.” Antoinette changed back to the subject at hand. “But seems she’s now gotten smarter about it.”

  Kitt placed the file on the Boston girl back on the tiny definites pile. “Do you think this has anything to do with the serial killer?”

  “I’ll do more checking,” Tones said. “But I don’t see how.”

  Antoinette nodded. “They’re too different. Though, maybe this Dark Brethren stuff Rudolf was talking about has something to do with it.”

  Tones’s lip curled into a snarl. “I don’t think it’s really feasible to jump to that conclusion just yet. We need more proof than the existence of a supposedly ancient book and the interpretations of an old human.”

  “You don’t believe him?” The timbre of Antoinette’s voice rose a little in disbelief. “Why are you so dead set against it?”

  Tones sighed and ran his hand back and forth over his bald scalp. “My family is one of the oldest of Aeternus bloodlines, which means we have responsibility as protectors of the lore. You can’t change the beliefs of a lifetime overnight. To think our ancestors were mere servants—no, more like slaves . . . it’s a really hard thing to swallow.”

  Kitt’s reservations were more basic than fearing the loss of some perceived superiority. It just contradicted everything she knew to be true.

  “What’s going on?” Oberon interrupted their little conference.

  “Tones has identified the Aeternus from the alley,” Kitt said, trying to cover their misgivings.

  Oberon took the picture from Tones. “Good work. Now see if you can find any connections between the two cases.”

  “Already on it,” Antoinette said, lifting a pile of reports.

  “Excellent, but let’s call it a day,” Oberon said.

  “Has Raven come back yet?” Kitt asked.

  Oberon shook his head. “But he’s a big boy and can take care of himself.” He looked at Antoinette and Tones. “You two had better get home before dawn.”

  “Good idea.” Antoinette linked her fingers and stretched her arms above her head. “What’d’ya say, boy? Ready to go home?”

  The large pale-eyed malamute came to his feet, his tongue lolling and curled tai
l wagging.

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Kitt said, glad the night was finally over.

  She couldn’t believe how much had happened in the last hours. Suddenly her weariness weighted her down.

  Oberon put his hand on Kitt’s arm as she rose from her chair, his face softening. “You okay?”

  “Nothing a nice hot bath and a good night’s sleep won’t fix,” she said.

  Since Dylan died, Oberon had kept an eye out for her; and most times she was grateful, but tonight she needed space. After looking at her closely, he nodded and leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Go home, get some rest.”

  The underground car park was deserted. Night classes had long finished and day classes were still a couple of hours away. It was that in-between time, when hardly anyone was about.

  “Heavy first day,” Antoinette said, their footfalls echoing in the manmade concrete cavern. “What’re you thinking?”

  “You could say that,” Kitt said. “By the way, one of the twins is competing in a Shadow-combat match. I know we’ve just met and all, but would you come with me?”

  “Sure.” Antoinette stopped by her car and pulled the keys from her pocket. “But wouldn’t you prefer that Oberon go?”

  “It’d be nice to go with someone who isn’t watching me every second”—she pulled her coat tighter around herself—“making sure I’m okay.”

  Antoinette nodded with understanding. “I’ve never been to an actual match before—could be interesting.”

  An invisible weight lifted from Kitt’s shoulders. She hadn’t realized until that moment how difficult the idea of going alone had been.

  “Why don’t we—”

  A hooded figure appeared from behind a pillar and clamped a black-gloved hand over Antoinette’s mouth, cutting off whatever she was about to say. A low snarling bark came from Cerberus and his hackles rose.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” the would-be mugger’s voice rasped.

  Chapter 9 - Lover Come Home

  Kitt didn’t know what to do. She froze in terror. The dog barked, snarled, and snapped, saliva droplets pattering the cement floor. Antoinette’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. She twisted and grabbed her assailant by the shirt and slammed him back into the pillar.

  “About time, you bastard,” she growled as she pulled him into a full-mouthed kiss. “Any longer and I was going to start playing with my food.”

  She stood back grinning, her hand dropping to clutch her attacker’s.

  The man leaned into the light and pushed back the hood. “How you doing, Kitt?”

  Christian Laroque. Kitt knew him from her job in the Department’s morgue, though it had been a few months since she’d last seen him.

  Cerberus’s tail beat double time and Christian bent to ruffle his fur. “Gave you a scare too, old man.”

  The dog answered with an excited yip, but it took a few more seconds before Kitt could slow her hammering heart.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Antoinette punched him in the arm. “You’ve scared her half to death.”

  “I’m sorry, Kitt.” Christian’s handsome features softened into genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I thought I was about to have the perfect end to a perfect night,” she said, giving the Intel agent a tight smile.

  “That bad, huh?” Christian asked and looked at Antoinette, his eyes filling with concern.

  “It was eventful but nothing we couldn’t handle.” She leaned in to kiss him again and grinned. “But right now I just want to get you home and jump your bones for several hours on end.”

  Kitt’s face warmed and she looked away, partly with embarrassment and partly with envy.

  “Sounds good to me,” Christian said when they broke apart. “Because I leave for New Orleans this evening. This is just another flying visit I’m afraid. We’ve got a new lead.”

  “Shit, Christian, that bites,” Antoinette spat. “Are we ever going to spend more than a few short hours at a time together?”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” He cupped Antoinette’s cheek and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Soon, I promise. Now let’s get home—I have some bones that need jumping.”

  Antoinette looked over her shoulder as she walked away with Christian’s arm around her waist. She got the impression Kitt could do with some company but couldn’t pass up the chance to spend some time alone with her lover. As they approached the black stretch limousine, the driver stepped out and opened the back door. Cerberus jumped into the passenger seat through the open window. He loved riding up front—and it would give her more time alone with Christian.

  She placed a hand on Christian’s shoulder and leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before climbing in.

  “You seem a little preoccupied,” Christian said as he settled in beside her.

  She leaned back against the seat, searching every inch of his face. God, it is so good to see him. “I’m just a little worried about Kitt. She went through a lot tonight and now she’s going home to an empty apartment.”

  “Why don’t you give Oberon a call, let him know what you think,” Christian said, reaching for the bottle sitting in the custom-built warmer.

  She smiled and took out her cell. “I knew there was a reason I love you.”

  Oberon answered on the second ring.

  “It’s Antoinette. I’m a bit worried Kitt may need some company after all she’s been through tonight. Maybe you could check in on her and make sure she’s okay.”

  “I’ll do it later on my way home,” the ursian replied, concern apparent in his voice. It seemed strange to her, Oberon showing so much concern for someone. Kitt must mean a lot to him.

  “And I may be in a little late tomorrow night.” She smiled at her lover as he poured a splash of crimson into a brandy balloon. The scent of warm blood stirred her hunger.

  “I guess that means Christian’s in town,” Oberon said with a chuckle. “Then I’ll see you when I see you.”

  She slid the phone shut and leaned forward to take the offered glass. Christian filled one for himself and clinked it against hers.

  Antoinette drank deeply. The flavors played across her pallet with delicious delicacy. She closed her eyes to savor the aroma and the taste.

  “Fresh, young,” she said as she lay back against the seat and smiled. “And female.”

  Christian beamed. “You’re learning to tell the difference.”

  She grinned. “Thanks to Kavindish.”

  Christian’s friend and butler could teach her that at least. The rules of polite Aeternus society were not something her rigorous Venator training had prepared her for; and much to her and Kavindish’s dismay, she was failing dismally at Aeternus etiquette. Instead of sipping, she drained the last few drops and held her glass out to Christian. Though her hunger for sustenance was abated, she wasn’t yet satisfied.

  “Now what shall we do?” Christian asked, taking the glass and leaning in close.

  She laid her legs across his lap. “I can think of a thing or two.”

  “Shall I tell Anton to take the long way home?” he suggested.

  “You’ve been away for a while,” she said with a wink. “I don’t think it will take that long.”

  Christian leaned forward and pressed the button to raise the privacy screen. “Anton, we’re not to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Antoinette could hear the smile in the driver’s voice.

  “Well then.” Christian reached beneath her tank top and tweaked her nipple.

  “Well then,” she repeated and pushed him down before straddling him. “What have you got for me?” She unzipped his fly and freed his straining hardness. “Oh yes, that’ll do nicely.”

  She ripped off his hoodie and the T-shirt underneath.

  God, it’d been so long.

  With fresh young blood coursing through her veins, she was past ready and impatient to have him inside. She quickly divested herself of her sweatpants and pulled his
jeans off his hips.

  “Hey, how about a bit of foreplay?” Christian said with a devious smile.

  “Just shut up and fuck me.” She placed one hand on his chest and used the other to guide him to her entrance. “Foreplay later.”

  He groaned as she slid him inside, and he gripped her by the hips. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  The tip of his cock hit the entrance to her womb and filled her, and her turn to groan. He lay down along the seat and she leaned back to raise the tank top over her head. He lifted his head, watching her face, then her lips, and then her breasts. Teasing him, she cupped a breast in each hand and rocked back and forth in a steady building rhythm. His head fell back and he growled with pleasure. This power over him was such a trip.

  Antoinette felt her orgasm building quickly. She’d been hyper horny for days now, and it wasn’t going to take much to tip her over the edge. He slipped his thumb between them, rubbing her in just the right spot, with just the right pressure. She was close. So close. But she needed something else. Her gums tingled, her fangs slid to nestle in a groove beside her top front teeth. She stretched her jaw to make way for them and looked down into his face.

  “Come on, baby. Do it.” His voice was husky with the same need and his fangs glinted in the limo’s interior lighting.

  She leaned forward, her sensitive nipples brushing his flesh as she pressed her breasts against his chest. She kept on rocking her hips as she opened her mouth. The hot scent of the fresh blood he’d consumed drove her wild and she sank her fangs into the side of his throat. Her orgasm crashed down on her, rocketing through her body as his blood filled her mouth and slid down her throat.

  As the last of the aftershocks subsided, Christian sat up, still buried deep within her, and brought her mouth to his. They shared the taste of his blood as he pressed his hands against the small of her naked back, then flipped her over, pushing even deeper inside her. She locked eyes with him, his face only inches above hers, and bit her lip, piercing it with one of her fangs. He licked away the blood that formed and leaned back to watch her as he thrust in and out, his speed increasing. She loved the expression on his face, one almost of reverence, and she could tell how close he was just by the glazed look in his eyes. Then with a long, low moan, he thrust deeper and shuddered to a stop.