Dark Passion Rising (4 page)

If Tambra survived the Rising, Fox would demand to take her,
acclimatize her to her new existence, and teach her the laws of living under
Lycan rule.  Marcus would never see her again.  

The one bright spot was that Zeke, their guru for all things
tech, had found that Tambra had no living relatives.  No ties binding her to
her old life as she adjusted to her knew one.  Her father was deceased and her
mother had abandoned her when she was an infant. 

“This is not funny,” Tambra spat, her back straight, chin held
high. “I will not be held against my will.  I’m a cop and people
will
look for me.  Do you want that kind of trouble?”

 “You are already trouble.  Just by breathing,” he growled.  “You
cannot leave here without an understanding of the world you are about to
enter.”

 “I get the feeling I’m getting deeper into that rabbit hole,” she
sighed.  “So, I’m turning into a werewolf at the first full moon right?”

 “Wrong.  You are becoming a Lycan.”  He held up a hand stopping
her questions before they even got started.  “You were bitten by a Pure Blood,
a Lycan.  In the Lycan world there is a structure much like that of a monarchy.
 You have the Pure Bloods, the royalty, who rule their Breed.  If a Lycan bites
a human, that turns the human into a Pure Blood, but if that same human bites
another human, then they are called a Were since they have more human DNA than
Lycan, and more limitations to what they can do.”

“Like what?

“Weres can only turn on a full moon, Lycan’s transformations are
not limited.  It’s not only wolves either.  There are many types of Breeds in
the shape shifting community that are identified as Weres and all have their
own unique structure, yet it is only the wolves or Lycans that consider other Weres
as beneath them.”  Marcus’s voice held bitterness.

“You don’t agree with this, I take it.”

“No.  I most definitely do not,” he stated firmly.

She tilted her head, studying him as she digested everything he
just said.  His gut churned, instinct told him she was taking everything he had
thrown at her too calmly.  She was up to something, but he couldn’t tell what.

“And what are you, Marcus Valerian?”

 “Much like you, I enforce the laws of our Breeds.  I am the
leader of this group.”

 “Makes sense, but what I meant was what Breed are you?”

“I am a vampire.”

“Vampire,
really?
”  Sarcasm dripped from her words.

 “I am not what your popular urban legend professes me to be, but
the one grain of truth is that I do drink blood for my survival.”

“So you’re on a liquid diet and I’m the main course?”

He chuckled at that.  “The truth has been twisted beyond recognition. 
My heart does beat, ceasing only when I’m deeply asleep.  I can eat if it pleases
me to do so.  Sunlight won’t turn me to ashes, but it does weaken me to the
point of losing consciousness, so I try to avoid it.  I sleep in a bed with
sheets.  No soil.  No coffin.  Holy water just makes me wet, and I can visit
any church I wish, consecrated ground holds no danger to my kind.  We are long
lived and don’t die easily.”  

 “Okay, good to know.”  Tambra glanced warily up at him and
slowly moved toward the bed, her knuckles white from the strain of gripping the
comforter in front of her like a shield.

“So you can you turn into… things?”  She didn’t even try to hide
her revulsion.

  “No, but I can blend into shadows.”

  She frowned in confusion. “Blend into shadows?”

 “I can mimic the shadows of my surroundings, making my form
insubstantial.”

He smirked, watching with fascination as she worked out each fact
he revealed to her.  It was amazing to him how quickly she was adapting to his
world, even if she had not been aware of it.

“And you’re saying that I can’t leave because I might kill
people?”

 “I’m an Enforcer of all species, including human kind.  It is my
duty to not risk anyone.  It is also of the utmost importance that we remain
hidden from humanity for our own protection.  And could you really live with
yourself if you harmed an innocent?”

 “Of course not!”  Tambra snapped.  “But I have to contact my
boss.  I have to find out what happened to my partner.”  A calculating gleam
sparkled within her eyes.  “I can’t just disappear, that would draw too much
attention.  You wouldn’t want that would you?”

 “Valid reasons, I agree, yet not valid enough to run the risk of
spilling innocent blood.  I’m sorry.  You will stay here.  It is the safest
alternative.  I will take care of your boss to your satisfaction.”

He turned to leave, smiling as she sputtered in frustrated
anger.  He never heard her move as she slammed the bedside lamp over his head
and everything went dark.

Chapter Four

Tambra hurriedly stripped Marcus out of his black shirt, admiring
the silky material as she covered her nakedness with it.  She fought the twinge
of guilt as she eyed Marcus’s prone body.  She’d had no choice, she reasoned,
the man was obviously delusional, her best course of action was to get as far
away as quickly as possible.  If she hadn’t acted, he would have kept her here
as a prisoner.

The man was gorgeous, his face chiseled perfection, thick
blue-black hair falling past his shoulders.  His eyes reminded her of dark
chocolate, and were framed by ridiculously long black lashes.  She watched the
even rise and fall of his bare chest, his skin stretched taut over the defined
muscles of his chest and hard ridges of his abs.  His olive skin was marked by
white scars that crossed over every inch of his bare torso.  A trail of thin,
black hair started at his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his
jeans.

With deft fingers she undid his jeans, tugging them half way down
his narrow hips before she discovered the man was wearing nothing beneath
them.  Even unaroused, his package was quite impressive.  Forcing her mind back
to the task at hand, she finished pulling the pants off his long legs and
stepped into them.  She was swimming in them, but the alternative of wandering
the streets in only a shirt and panties was not an option. 

She took one last look at Marcus lying unconscious on the floor. 
The dark ink of a tattoo on his shoulder caught her attention.  It was intricately
designed, starting on his shoulder. Vines wove around a shield and down,
encircling his large bicep.  The words on the shield were in what looked like Latin:
“
Morior cum Honoris, Redire in Vester Scutum”.

She shrugged off her puzzlement and pulled her gaze away.  She
didn’t know just how long he would be out and didn’t want to take the chance of
being caught.  Soundlessly, she slipped out into the hallway, fighting the
trembling in her legs.  She was not at top form and would not make it very far
on her own, but there was nothing for it.  She had to get to the nearest
station on foot.

She hurried down the hallway, passing paintings of landscapes and
pastoral scenes.  No sound came to her as she made her way down the stairs.  On
her right, in the foyer, stood an elegant cherry wood table, a crystal vase
full of white roses on its polished surface.  On the left, a small hallway
turned into a massive living room.  She got a glimpse of black leather wing
backed chairs surrounding a huge oblong table before she turned her attention
back to the foyer and the door to her freedom.

Tambra slipped out unnoticed, catching her breath as the leftover
heat from the day hit her like a physical force.  The night sky, which Tambra
usually saw drowned by the lights from the strip, was brilliant with stars,
laid out like glittering diamonds.  Within moments, sweat trickled down her
back and between her breasts, plastering the silk of Marcus’s shirt against her
body.  She pushed herself into a sprint, concentrating on her surroundings.  The
hot asphalt burned her feet.   

She could see the lights from the strip far off and to the south. 
She must be in the northwestern part of the city where there was less
development and more desert.  She guessed she was about five miles from the
nearest police station and prayed she could make it there without collapsing
into a wet, exhausted heap in the middle of the road.

Her sprint turned to painfully slow plodding.  She had no sense
of how long she had been walking.  She could only concentrate on placing one
foot in front of the other.  It wasn’t until a black sedan pulled up right
alongside her that she became aware she was no longer alone.  She stopped,
peering into the open window on the passenger side, making out the dim outline
of an elderly man at the wheel.

"Can I be of some assistance, young lady?”  His voice was
British and filled with concern.

 “I need a ride if you don’t mind.”  She cursed the weakness in
her voice as her body shook with exhaustion. 

“I would be happy to give you a lift.”

She nearly wept with relief, wanting nothing more than a shower
and her bed.  Slipping into the seat, she leaned her head back against the head
rest with a sigh, and gave him her address.

“I will have you there in a jiffy, Miss.  You just rest.  You
look quite out of sorts.”

He spoke softly, his voice melodic and deep.  She felt her tense
muscles relax in the cool confines of the car, the AC emitting a soft whirr as
the cool air caressed her sweat slick skin.  Closing her eyes, she sank into a
light doze, unable to combat the exhaustion that plagued her.

A hand on Tambra’s shoulder jarred her awake.  Panic skittered
though her for a second before she remembered where she was and the events that
had brought her there.  She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and looked
out the windshield at the familiar sight of her apartment building.

It was a small complex with tall palm trees clustered around the
white and brown stucco buildings.  Lantana in yellow, red, orange, and purple
trailed around the front walkways, spreading out over the concrete.  Home.

 “Thanks for the ride.”

Her words were muffled as she stepped out of the vehicle.  The older
man didn’t seem to mind.  He pulled away without so much as a word, leaving her
to watch his taillights speed away.

Tambra went to the corner apartment door on the far end of the
building and grabbed the key from under a loose chunk of concrete by her step. 
She froze just as she was placing the key into the lock, the hair at her nape
standing on end.  Someone was watching her.  She had gotten to know that
feeling all too well in her line of work.  It could be the only thing between
living and being on a coroner’s table with a toe tag.

Turning, she scanned the area.  A yellowish ray of light
illuminated a spot of the parking lot, casting much of the area in dark
shadows.  A hint of movement caught her eye and she swore under her breath at
her lost gun.  It would have been handy if things got ugly, but, as it stood,
now she only had her self defense training as back up.

     The dark shape stepped into the light and Tambra nearly
crumpled with relief.  It was Cody.  The light caught the burnished copper of
his short hair as he came toward her.  His long legs ate up the distance
between them in seconds and she found herself swallowed up in his strong arms,
her face pressed to his chest.

“Damn, cher, you scared the hell out of me.  Where have you been?
 The Captain is about to put an APB on your ass.” His Cajun accent was thick,
as it always was when he got fired up about something.

“What about you?  Where were you the other night when we were
chasing that perp?” she demanded as she stepped back, pushing away from his
embrace.  “I tried you on the radio but got nothing but static.”

Cody gave her one of his lopsided grins.  The ones that disarmed
most women and made them putty in his hands. 

She snorted.  “Look, buddy, that don’t work on me.  You’re like a
brother to me.  I’m immune.  Let me get inside before I collapse, and then you
will
tell me what happened to you.”

Cody raised his hands in surrender and followed her inside.  The
air was stale from being closed up for too long.

The contrast between Marcus’s home and her small dwelling drew
her up short.  Instead of large landscape paintings she had a single picture on
a scuffed coffee table, showing her and her father at her graduation.  Instead
of black leather wing tip furniture she had a pale green couch.  Since she
spent most of her time working, she only really needed a place to put the few
things she had. 

She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and sleep for a
week.  And then she would still have to think about everything Marcus had told
her.  

Cody though, had other ideas as he took in her clothes, or lack
of them.

     “Tambra, where’s your gun?  And your clothes?”  He frowned
at her.

     She couldn’t tell him everything that had happened, he would
never believe it.  Marcus was right about that.  But she could give him an
edited version of what had happened.

“Look, I don’t have the energy to explain everything right now. 
I ran into some trouble and was helped out by a Marcus Valerian.  Does that
name ring a bell?” At Cody’s blank look she continued, “Okay.  I need you to do
me a favor and run the name.  See what you come up with.  I need an address,
cell phone, anything.  I don’t care how inconsequential, I want to know it by
tomorrow night.  I was brought unconscious to his home.  He was watching over
me until I came around.”

 “What the hell did he do to you?” Cody growled, his face full of
dark fury as he sprang from his chair and strode toward her.

Tambra blinked in surprise.  “Nothing, he saved my life.  I was
injured.”

 “Where, godammit?  You should be in a hospital, not walking the
streets by yourself.”

Her hand went to where the Lycan had bitten her and she gasped in
shock as she found only smooth skin under her fingertips.  Whirling around, she
ran through her bedroom to the small bathroom with Cody hot on her heels. 
Shutting the door in his face, she faced her mirror and looked with disbelief
at the unmarred skin of her neck and shoulder.  Letting her borrowed jeans drop
to the floor she could only stare at the smooth skin on her thigh.