Born to Love (The Vampire Reborn Series) (Entangled Ignite) (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

Maggie scrubbed at her eyes, gritty with what felt like a pound of sand. It was nearly midnight, but preternatural energy hummed beneath her skin and her senses seemed to be in overdrive, alerting her to every little thing going on around her, from the
tick-tick-tick
of the wall clock to the distant footsteps of others at work in the far corners of the building.

From the wolf?

Regardless, for now she had done about all she could do with the evidence. Best to head home, try to get some rest, and be ready to report to Diana on what she’d been able to ascertain from the forensics.

All good news. Rafe’s DNA had been found solely on her and the ground at the second crime scene. But the other set of saliva, blood, and fur specimens from the scene matched those found at the first crime scene, and they were all from a single unsub.

She hoped the DNA tests on the fur samples Diana had brought from the meeting with the shifters last night would also be a match, and confirm that the unsub was none other than Brad Jefferson. She had already sent the samples to the DNA lab and fiber experts, but based on her own initial analysis of the fur, it was similar to that found on both the first victim and the jogger, as well as the two young vandals.

But no matter how much evidence they had to connect Jefferson to the murders, it was going to be hard to decide how to write a report that didn’t blame the crimes on a werewolf.

A frickin’ werewolf
. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she’d think whoever claimed such a thing was certifiably crazy. But she couldn’t deny what she herself had witnessed. Much as she could no longer deny the existence of vampires like Ryder and his friends. Or their human Slayer enemies.

She shook her head at the whole otherworldly mess, wondering if she’d somehow been dropped into some bizarro parallel dimension. Or if she would wake up and everything would turn out to be a really bad dream.

Sadly, she knew it was all very real. Which only made the whole proposition that much scarier.

She took a moment to tidy the papers and reports on her desk, then left the lab and went to her office, where she grabbed her purse from the desk drawer. She was about to walk onto the elevator when her cell phone rang.

An unfamiliar number showed on the caller ID, but at this time of night, any call had to be about work.

“Dr. Gonzalez,” she answered, and a husky, very masculine chuckle greeted her, sending a blast of unbidden desire through her body.

“Very professional, Dr. Gonzalez. Lieutenant Lazaro here,” he said, sexy humor alive in his tones, a welcome relief from his earlier almost manic anxiety.

She tried for neutral as she responded. “Rafe. How can I help you at this late hour?”

“It is late. I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized,” he said contritely, no hint of deception in his voice. “Must be the wolf messing with my internal clock. They’re nocturnal, aren’t they?”

So he was feeling the same way she was—wide awake and slightly out of sync with the world around her. No wonder, since they now shared a common bond. A bond that no doubt explained her heightened reaction to him. She tamped down on it and replied, “I actually think they’re diurnal.”

With a masculine huff that communicated little, he continued. “Either way, I’m wired. You can’t believe what I did tonight.”

Maggie stepped away from the elevator, which always managed to eat any cell signals, and went back to her office. She closed the door and leaned against it, remaining in the dark. Wanting it to cloak her and what she was feeling from the eyes of the world.

Aware of his movements today from Diana’s report, she said, “Um, you went hunting for Brad Jefferson?”

His chuckle drifted across the line again, stirring her. “Right, I should have known Special Agent Reyes and her hubby would fill you in.”

“She did. I haven’t seen Ryder tonight.”

“He was with her when I saw them. Are they like a matched set or something?”

Now it was her turn to laugh. The last thing her friend would want was Ryder constantly in her face, but Maggie supposed she must have relented, considering they’d been heading into a wolf den earlier. As hardheaded as her friend could be about her independence, she would also be sensible enough to think about the safety of herself, the child she was carrying, and anyone going on the mission with her. Such as Rafe.

“No, they’re not joined at the hip, but he does help out on occasion. But back to the hunt. Did you have any luck?”

A heavy sigh sounded and Maggie could picture him as he did that, dragging a frustrated hand through the thick, wavy locks of his sun-streaked brown hair, the sharply chiseled lines of his face tense.

“We lost his scent on Central Park South, but Brendon—the pack leader—plans on asking around to see where we can hunt again.”

“You say that so naturally, as if hunting’s something you do every day,” she shot back, intrigued in part, but still fighting her attraction to him…as well as her fascination with what he was now.

What she would soon become.

“It did seem natural. Like it was something I was born to do, Maggie.”

The sound of her name on his lips curled her toes, while the little voice of reason in her head shouted, “
What about David?

“Did you…change…to hunt?”

“Yeah, and it was amazing. Brendon says I’m one of the lucky ones who can control the shift. He said that closer to the next cycle, he’ll help me learn how to handle it better so it’s not as painful. He said he’d help you, too, if you want. It’ll take at least a month before you’re wolf enough to shift,” he said in a rush of excitement.

She winced. She’d seen firsthand what could happen when such eagerness became twisted with power.

“So I have a month left to be human,” she muttered. Not that she didn’t already feel different. The energy alive in her, and the strength she hadn’t expected, told her she’d already changed. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been just a few days earlier.

Thoughts of David slammed into her then, reminding her how he must have felt upon waking in the hospital, a vastly different man than before. And reminding her what she could no longer have with him. That painful thought wiped away the last vestiges of need that Rafe had awoken.

“It may not be that bad, Maggie. Give it time. Come with me tomorrow and meet the pack,” Rafe urged. “Maybe that will help you feel like you’re not so alone.”

She thought about all the work on her desk for the other cases on which she was consulting. And Diana would surely have more for her to do tomorrow on this case. Then there was her unwanted attraction to the handsome firefighter…

“I’ll think about it, Rafe. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment.”

That heavy sigh came again, but when he spoke, his words were filled with understanding and not frustration. “Whenever you can, I’m here for you. Even if it’s only as a friend. Just remember that, okay?”

She appreciated his patience, and it raised her opinion of him. “Thank you, Rafe. I will. Have a good night.”

“I’ll try. Think I’ll head back to the firehouse and hang. Try to get back to normal,” he murmured, and they disconnected.

Maggie stood there in the dark, gazing at the cell phone, battling back the urge to feel sorry for him.

And for herself.

Damn. Welcome to a whole new normal.

And she was going to have to work real hard to accept it.


The next morning, Diana hesitated at the door to Melissa and Sebastian’s apartment—for a whole host of reasons. Including the fact that her mother was still visiting from Miami.

After the wedding, her mother had planned on staying for a few weeks, mostly to enjoy time with her granddaughter, Diana’s little niece, Mariel. In that first month, she and Ryder had dutifully joined her mother and her brother and his family for Sunday dinners, and occasional midweek get-togethers.

In the last month, work had cut into her free time…
along with those gatherings. Bringing loads of guilt. Especially since her mother was finally on the verge of returning home.

At least Diana hoped she was.

It had been difficult dealing with her mother’s presence and making believe her life was even remotely normal when it wasn’t even close.

Her visit to Melissa was further proof of that, since this wasn’t a social call.

Forcing herself to knock, she was pleased when Melissa answered. Her sister-in-law, and Ryder’s former keeper, put a finger to her lips. “They’re all still sleeping,” she whispered, and opened the door wide.

Diana nodded and together they went to the spare room Melissa used as a home lab. Once there, Diana slipped into a familiar routine, sitting on the examining room table, taking off her suit jacket and rolling up her sleeve so Melissa could take a blood sample.

“I appreciate you keeping this to yourself, Melissa.”

“I know you don’t want to worry your brother, but I won’t lie to him, Di,” Melissa said as she prepped Diana’s arm for the needle.

“Maybe I’m just tired from the pregnancy and the work. There’s no need for grief if that’s all it is,” she said, although in her heart she worried the fatigue was more than that.

Melissa nodded, but Diana could see she was unconvinced. “Let’s hope you’re right,” Melissa said as she finished drawing the blood.

“You’ll call me if you find anything?” Diana asked, rolling down her sleeve.

“Of course. By the way, I’m still working on Maggie’s blood specimen.” Melissa walked over to a worktable and placed the test tube with Diana’s blood in a rack beside another one.

“Have you found anything?” she asked, hoping Melissa could work her magic with Maggie. Maybe find a way for her friend to stay normal. Well, unfurry.

“Nothing yet, but maybe it’s too soon.”

Diana told Melissa what the pack leader had said—that it took at least a month to be able to shift the first time.

Melissa nodded thoughtfully. “Then maybe in a week there’ll be enough titer of those different cells for me to see something. We’ll have to take another blood sample to find out.”

“The blood from the firefighter still seemed normal to both the ME and Maggie,” Diana said, “and it has been more than a month for him.”

With a disgusted shrug, Maggie said, “And here, I always thought science could explain everything.”

Diana hiked a brow. “And now you think it can’t?”

Melissa shook her head wearily. “There are just so many things I’ve seen lately that I can’t explain scientifically. Logically.”

Diana hated hearing her competent and confident sister-in-law sound so defeated. “So if science and logic can’t explain it, what do we have left?” she asked.

“Faith,” Melissa answered immediately, with a soft, beatific smile. “I’ve got to have faith there’s a reason for all that’s happening.”

Diana reached for the medallion hanging on a heavy gold chain around her neck. She had stopped wearing it for a while, then a few months ago had put it back on. She’d told herself the same thing—that she must have faith this was the path meant for her.

She walked over and hugged Melissa, brushed a kiss across her cheek, and said, “Thank you for that, and for everything you’ve done for us. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

With a smile reaching her eyes, Melissa stroked her hand across Diana’s hair. “It hasn’t, but I guess this was meant to be my calling. I fought it at first, that’s for sure. But then Sebastian came into my life. I knew then that I couldn’t fight it anymore. It was meant to be.”

Diana nodded. “I know what you mean. No matter how much I battled what I was feeling for Ryder, I know that I was born to love him. That I was born to do what I’m doing now.”

“For sure, Diana. I’ve never seen him so happy. Or you, for that matter.”

She
was
happy, Diana thought. Even with all the changes and the concerns, being with Ryder brought peace and joy. Made all the difficult things easier to bear.

On that thought, she bid Melissa good-bye and left for work. She had a mess of cases to work on, and the werewolves to deal with.

At one time she might have pondered the why, but now she just accepted.

This was the way her life was meant to be.

Chapter Twenty-two

“I feel safe issuing a BOLO for Jefferson. How about you?” Diana said, directing her attention to David first. The team had spent the entire morning reviewing all the relevant details before arranging for this afternoon’s meeting.

David shrugged. “Based on what Maggie’s got so far, witness IDs, and the information you got from your uptown friends, I think it’s a good bet Brad Jefferson is our man.”

Diana nodded. “Maggie?”

“DNA tests from the fur samples you provided should be here by tomorrow, but I agree he’s our main suspect at this point. My initial review of the fur confirms it’s similar to that found on the first victim, the jogger, and the vandals.”

With a confirmatory dip of her head, Diana laid her hands flat on the table. “I’ll speak to Jesus about this, but in the meantime, I’m assuming you’ve both seen the e-mail I forwarded from Rafe?”

He’d let them know that Brendon had set up a meeting with the other leaders of the local were-groups at a nearby bar. His hope was to spread the word about their hunt for Jefferson and avoid conflict between different factions of weres.

After both Maggie and David nodded, she said, “I plan to meet Rafe and Brendon at Dark of the Moon tonight.”

“No way,” Maggie blurted out at the same time that David said, “Not alone you’re not.”

Their reaction shouldn’t have surprised her. From what they had dug up about Dark of the Moon after receiving the e-mail, it was not the kind of place you went unless you were looking for trouble. Truth be told, she hadn’t planned on going alone. “I’m glad you both feel that way, since I’d hoped to have you along as backup.”

“Does Ryder know that’s what you’re planning?” David asked, eyes narrowed.

“Ryder is not my keeper, David. Besides, his presence there would only hurt, not help. Vampires and shifters don’t mix very well.”

“I’m not sure we’ll be welcome either,” Maggie said. “According to our information, there have been a fair share of beatings and fights at the club.”

Diana puffed out a breath. “I spoke to Brendon a short time ago and he says our visit has been cleared by the owners and were-group leaders.”

“While I’m still having a hard time grasping this reality,” David said, “I have to ask. What kinds of shifters will be there?” He played nervously with his pen, tipping it from end to point on the legal pad where he’d been taking notes.

“They didn’t say, but with Rafe and Brendon on our side, we’ve got some major muscle there to protect us. Plus, we’re not going in unarmed.” Reaching into her briefcase, Diana pulled out several boxes of ammo. “Load your magazines with these.” She handed them over to Maggie and David. “We’ll reconvene here in two hours to head to the meeting place together.”

Her two partners glanced at each other uneasily, then left her alone in the room. She closed the door behind them and approached the murder boards again, wanting to review the information they had so far. Because there was something very important they were missing: motive.

The easy explanation could be that Jefferson could simply not control what he did during his monthly moon cycle, that he wasn’t one of the sentient shifters, as Brendon had explained. That would make sense, given the chains in the basement of the brownstone. Randall might have been keeping his partner imprisoned during his monthly cycle to keep others safe.

But that was too easy an explanation. Jefferson appeared to have a real propensity for violence. He had been sentenced to death by his pack because of his attempt to kill their leader. Then he’d gotten a taste for blood savagery when he’d raped and killed his first human victim.

Unrelated incidents? Or was there some connection between that earlier murder and the latest killings? The wolf pack leader had mentioned Jefferson was stirring up the half-bloods, trying to make trouble before viciously attacking him in Highbridge Park.

Could that attempted rebellion be behind the killings?

She shook her head, trying to find a logical link between the two, but nothing made sense. Jefferson’s behavior was too erratic, and the killings could only bring trouble to the shifters by threatening to expose them. Then again, that threat might force the leaders of the various were-factions to come after Jefferson. If they did, he might have devised a trap in order to kill them all and assume total control. She assumed that in the packs, that kind of cunning and strength would make Jefferson the undisputed alpha of the respective groups, along with anyone allied with him.

Turning away from the boards, she had one other thing to do before she returned to her desk and its lack of privacy. She missed her office with its orchids along the wall and view of the Narrows. Maybe in time she could work her way back to that kind of position.

In response to her moment of wistfulness, the baby kicked, almost as if to remind her that things might not ever be the same again. Which also prompted another thought.

She had to give Ryder a courtesy call. Although she dreaded it, expecting what his reaction would be to her announcement. Bracing herself, she hit speed-dial, and was grateful when the phone went to voice mail after a few rings.

She left the shortest message she could. “I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

Coward
, the little voice in her head said as she ended the call.

But that was fine with her. Telling him the entire story would only result in a fight and recriminations, neither of which would help her focus on this and the other cases waiting for her review.

With that, she returned to her desk and got to work, ignoring the nervous anticipation in her gut, as well as the growing shadow of weakness that built within her as the day grew long.

Just pregnancy-related tiredness, she told herself. But the little voice in her head once again quickly called it like it was.

Liar.


Dark of the Moon was not far from either the Blood Bank or The Lair, the local vampire hangouts. It made Diana wonder how none of the undead had mentioned the club before. Then again, the vampires and shifters didn’t play well together. Why would they?

Much like the exterior of the Blood Bank, the look of Dark of the Moon from the outside warned this was not a place for neophytes looking to play at being hard-asses. The tall, shadowed brick building was painted a dull charcoal gray and peeling in spots, exposing the weathered red of the wall beneath. A rash of gouges in the walls, bullet holes if she had to guess, exposed even more of the red brick. It almost looked as if the building was bleeding, adding to its threatening appearance. There were a few windows along the front with the requisite fire escape, which was painted in that same indeterminate gray.

Lounging against those bleeding walls were a dozen or more men and women, mostly dressed in leather and chains, with expressions on their faces that warned they were looking for trouble.

Two petite, but powerfully built bodyguards manned the front door. The door seemed to have been taken off some kind of boat—the battleship-gray metal boasted rivets and scars, including rusty-edged bullet holes. The heavy latch to the door was open, but the demeanor of the bouncers was opposite. Clearly, not everyone was welcome at this establishment.

As Diana, Maggie, and David approached the entrance, the heavily muscled and tattooed duo closed ranks to bar their entry.

Beady near-black eyes, glassy and dead-looking, skimmed over them before one man sneered, “Your kind is not welcome here.” His high-pitched voice was just shy of a squeal, and his thin face with its long nose and overbite reminded her of a ferret.

“Brendon asked us to meet him here,” she replied, and drew aside her suit jacket to display her badge and gun.

The two bouncers exchanged whispered squeals, then one of them scurried inside—she presumed to confirm the invitation.

“Nice place,” David said facetiously, eyeing the building. As she tracked his gaze, she noticed the windows were covered in some kind of film, hiding what was going on inside.

David was using his crutches, and even with his slight hunch he was still nearly a foot taller than the ferret-faced bouncer who was barely Diana’s height.

When Maggie took a spot beside the little man, a sly look crept into his brown-black eyes. “You’re one of us, or will be soon,” he said, and his gaze took a turn, becoming decidedly sexual as he raked it down Maggie’s voluptuous figure.

Maggie glared at him, leaned forward, and sniffed. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of him. “Rodent?”

“Wolf bitch,” he countered, and took a menacing step toward her, but David blocked his way.

Before the small shifter could engage, the door opened with a solid
thunk
, revealing Rafe and Brendon just inside.

“Is there a problem here, Weasel?” Brendon asked, hands on his hips in a pose that made him loom over the skinny shifter. Tonight he had on a leather bomber jacket that only served to emphasize his large size.

Weasel skittered backward, eyes downcast. “No problem.”

Brendon stepped forward and acknowledged Diana with a regal bow of his head. “Special Agent Reyes.”

After a greeting, she introduced him to her partners. “Special Agent David Harris, and Dr. Maggie Gonzalez, our forensics expert.”

Brendon’s eyes gleamed with undeniable, but asexual, interest as he studied Maggie. “Welcome to the pack, Maggie. We can always use someone as strong as you in our group,” he said, making Diana wonder about his earlier statements that half-bloods were generally not welcomed. Though the pack leader had certainly seemed to take Rafe in without much objection, and now, possibly Maggie.

His gaze flicked negligently to David, lingering for a moment on the crutches before meeting David’s perturbed gaze. Her teammate clearly had not liked Brendon’s invitation to Maggie.

“It takes a strong man to come here as you are,” Brendon said.

David straightened as much as the crutches would allow and leaned headfirst until he was face to face with the pack leader. “Do you have a problem with me?”

Brendon threw his head back and his full-chested laugh did little to calm David’s anger. But then he smiled, a devastatingly masculine smile, and his green eyes gleamed with humor. “Hell, I got a problem with that suit, Harris. You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb. And so are you two ladies.”

Now that Diana had a longer moment to observe, she realized all of the men, even Rafe, wore tight-fitting and/or sleeveless shirts that showed off their powerful physiques. Obviously a show of physical strength commanded respect in the club.

“What do you propose we do about that?” David asked, beating her to the question.

“Ladies, take off the suit jackets and show those weapons. Hot chicks with guns are never a problem in the club, although the belly will raise some eyebrows,” Brendon said, glancing at her noticeable baby bump. “As for you, Harris, lose the jacket and shirt. If you’ve got other scars besides those—” he motioned to David’s legs—“show them. We honor our warriors here.”

The sincerity in those words was irrefutable, and immediately calmed her partner. With Maggie’s assistance, David pulled off his suit jacket and worked off his shirt, leaving his shoulder holster and his very big Sig Sauer. The fitted tank top undershirt he wore showed off the well-developed muscles of his shoulders and chest, as well as the burn and shrapnel scars along one side of his body.

Diana flinched inwardly at the sight of the scars he would always have from the night of the raid. He’d been bandaged when she saw him in the hospital afterward, and he had never revealed his injuries to her. As his gaze collided with hers, he jerked his head up in challenge. She just smiled.

“May I?” Brendon asked Maggie, who handed over David’s clothes along with their suit jackets.

Brendon tossed them at Weasel. “Watch these until we’re done.”

Without waiting for a reply, Brendon pivoted and strode back into the club, leaving Rafe at the door to wait for them. After they went in, the firefighter took up a position behind them to cover their backs.

As they walked past the various tables inside the club, people peered at them suspiciously, tiny dark eyes gleaming in the dim light and sharp noses twitching as the shifters took the measure of them.

“Weasel seemed eager to please you,” Diana remarked to Brendon. “I thought you said the weres—”

“Don’t get along?” He snorted. “Weasel is like his name. He’ll side with whoever he thinks has the power.”

She peered around at the twitchy club patrons as the pack leader continued to a stairway at the far end of the building. “I guess he sees you as the lead dog?”

Brendon gave a low warning snarl. “Wolf. Not dog, Special Agent Reyes. Don’t forget that.”

She chuckled at the teasing undertone in his words. “I’ll try not to. Mind giving me a clue where we’re going?”

“Rooftop lounge. Premiere spot since it’s closest to the moon,” he said, and at that, she glanced back at David, worried whether he could make it up two more flights.

He moved slowly, cautiously, creating an ever-widening gap between Brendon and Rafe, but his jaw was clenched with determination. She prayed his physical condition was as strong as the spirit that had reawakened in him. He was slowly becoming the David of old. Possibly even stronger than before.

At the next set of stairs, Brendon looked back and slowed his pace, mindful of David. His gaze touched on Maggie, and then skipped to Diana for a moment. He whispered for her ears only, “You’re lucky to have friends who follow you without question.”

“I am,” she acknowledged, well aware she could count on Maggie and David in any situation.

“It speaks to your leadership,” he murmured before resuming the slow climb to the upper level.

When he stepped aside at the top of the stairs, she got her first glimpse of the rooftop terrace. A large glass-enclosed structure occupied the center of the space, while generous walkways all around were laid with grass and landscaped in between with plants, bushes, and scrubby pine trees. It reminded her of Ryder’s oversized balcony with all its flowering plants. And made her wonder at the otherworld’s need for such spaces in a concrete jungle like New York.

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