Embrace the Darkness (Darkness Series) (11 page)

He was no angel. He’d suffered greatly over the years, trying to live with what he was and not take the blood of innocents. And he had killed. Just as she had.

“You were a soldier. You know what it’s like on a battlefield. Now imagine the Second World War. Or earlier. The dead. The dying. That’s a lot of blood, and a regular feeding frenzy for vampires.”

A shiver wracked her trim body. She released his hand and wrapped her arms around her elbows. “I guess that’s why Nicolas stays in Germany. It’s close to so many war-torn countries.”

Apprehension filled him. “Isn’t Germany his homeland?”

Darkness shadowed her eyes. “I doubt it. He sounded American.”

Tension radiated down his spine. There was more to Nicolas than Amber knew. “Tell me what happened in Germany. There are pieces missing to this puzzle. Pieces a vampire has made you forget. Parts of it are coming back, but if you don’t remember everything, it could get you killed.”

She pushed to her feet and stepped away from the sofa, taking staggering steps to lean against a small wooden mantel over a gas log fireplace. “I don’t know anything about vampires that you haven’t told me. I suffered a mental collapse in Germany. Combat fatigue. Post-traumatic stress. Whatever you want to call it. I did
not
see vampires.”

He rose to his feet and was beside her in a blink. She backed away, stumbling until she bumped into the sofa and dropped back to the cushions.

He stalked her slowly. “Then explain the attack, Amber. You know what you know. You knew it then. Your anxiety and stress were caused by denial. Not the truth.”

She closed her eyes and fisted her hands in her lap. He eased down beside her and captured her hands in his. His fingers brushed her bare thighs. She shivered. So did he. She was in pain and so very vulnerable. And he wanted so much to help. She needed him. And it wasn’t a betrayal to Tina. He was only offering comfort and support.

Sliding his hands up her bare arms, he cupped her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder, her momentary stiffness giving way to surrender. Her sigh tugged at something deep inside. If he’d had a heart, he would have lost it.

“Nicolas saved me,” she whispered, her words muffled against his shirt.

Pulling back, he dipped his chin and cupped her cheek in his palm, raising her face to meet his gaze. “I know. So, it’s important you tell me everything,
chérie
.”

The endearment slipped unexpectedly past his lips. Amber didn’t seem to notice. She swallowed her tears and stiffened her spine. Sitting up straight, she leaned away from him. She was strong, independent, and stubborn as hell. The woman did
not
like to acknowledge weakness.

“Germany wasn’t the first time he saved my life,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I think he saved me when I was a child too.”

“You
think
?” Childhood memories were seldom reliable, but if Nicolas saved her when she was a child, she should have remembered—unless the incident was so traumatic she’d blocked it from her mind. Or Nicolas had made her forget.

She twisted her fingers together, averting her gaze. “I was only five. But it was my birthday. My father was stationed in Beirut, and that same day, he was injured in a terrorist attack on the barracks. I remember him being in a hospital in Germany and getting to talk to him on the phone. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew my mother was afraid. We didn’t live far from Emerald Isle, so, a day or two later, she took me to the beach. It was unseasonably warm. We stayed late. And the sun set early.”

Terror filled her eyes. “On the way home, our car broke down. It was near the cut off where we turned to go home. So, Mom picked me up and we started walking.”

Her voice cracked. Her body quaked. Gerard wanted to take her in his arms but he was afraid to touch her. Afraid she’d come apart if he did. Afraid he’d give into unwanted, smoldering desire.

Guilt niggled deeper. Memories of Tina hovered at the back of his mind. He took a deep breath and forced himself to stay unmoved by Amber’s pain.

“I thought it was the boogieman,” she whispered, her voice raw. “He just appeared on the road, ripped me from my mother’s arms, and tossed me like a rag doll into a ditch. I remember being wet. And cold. I crawled from the ditch and saw the monster lower his head to my mother’s throat. She went limp in his arms. I cried. Then this beautiful man rescued me. He said his name was Nicolas. He picked me up and we soared over the salt marshes. And my nightmare turned into a beautiful dream about flying. Then I woke up in my own bed the next morning and learned my mother was dead.”

Chapter 7

“Still pissed?” Reid stared at Amber through dark sunglasses from the passenger side of her car.

The morning sun glinted off the windshield, scalding her eyeballs. She squinted, trying to fight off a killer headache. Gripping the steering wheel, she refused to think about vampire boogiemen or sexy vampires with French accents. For now, she refused to think about anything vampire-related unless it figured into the Lifeblood slayings.

Of course, she’d tried that same tactic for two days without success. Seeing Gerard again last night had only added to her confusion.

If only she could talk to Reid. But he’d probably think she was crazy. Hell, it sounded crazy to her, and she’d seen the truth with her own eyes. Vampires
were
real.

“I’m not pissed,” she said without glancing at her partner.

Reid huffed impatiently. “You’re gritting your teeth. And you’ve hardly spoken since picking me up this morning. Yesterday, you walked around like a zombie. Today, you’re acting pissed.”

“I’m not pissed.” Confused. Scared. Vulnerable. She didn’t know what to do or how to act and she hated feeling unsure. So yeah, maybe she was pissed.

“You were sure acting pissed at the station,” Reid said. “You gave me the cold shoulder and didn’t say a word when I was filling Captain Stratford in on our progress with the investigation.”

“What progress? We’re fresh eyes on Daniels and Tanner’s case. And so far, we got squat.” It wasn’t as if she could tell her partner or their captain the truth.

Tina Gallagher had known vampires were real, and working with Dr. Megan Harper on a cure had gotten her killed. Richard Baxter had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and wound up on a murderous vampire’s dinner menu.

Megan Harper was still alive because she hadn’t been at work that night. But that didn’t mean she was safe. If she was Weldon’s intended target, he might go after her again.

But what about Axle Travers? Was he a victim? Or an accomplice?

I need to talk to Gerard again.

As much as Amber wanted to avoid him—and not for the sane, obvious reason of him being a vampire—she needed to learn more about
real
vampires and their supernatural abilities. Searching the internet for information hadn’t helped—too many flakes out there claiming to be “living” vampires.

She should have asked more questions last night, but after Gerard took her in his arms and she’d melted against him like warm butter on a hot French roll, he’d started to feel more like a lover than a witness or a suspect. And that scared the crap out of her. So, she’d freaked. And sent his ass packing.

And he obliged. Without question. In the blink of a frickin’ eye.

Maybe guilt over Tina’s death drove him away. Or maybe he’d felt it too—that same disturbing, undeniable attraction that drew her to him like an addict to crack.

Vampire glamour? Or the real deal? Either way, She did
not
want to get burned by Gerard’s immortal fire.

“Okay, so if you’re not still pissed, why aren’t you talking?” Reid grumbled.

When he wasn’t being arrogant, Reid was a nice guy. Nice. But paranoid. Or maybe he was still feeling guilty for driving off in a snit the night before last. Or for waiting until today to ask what was wrong.

He was right about one thing. She wasn’t herself and hadn’t been since Gerard accosted her in her driveway two nights ago.

Maybe accosted was the wrong word, but she had been scared enough to shoot him. Thank God, he didn’t die.

But weren’t vampires already dead?

Her body recalled his hard chest pressed against hers as he took her in his arms. His breath had fanned her neck, his heart steadily beating against her palm.

No dead man had ever felt so alive.

Shaking off thoughts of Gerard, she turned left when instructed by her GPS navigator and reassured her partner. “I’m not pissed. I’m just thinking about the case.”

As much as she wanted to share what she knew with Reid, she couldn’t. He’d never believe her. If Reid couldn’t see it, touch it, taste it, or smell it, it didn’t exist. Despite his arrogance, she trusted him with her life. Just not her secrets.

“Okay. Good. Cause I shouldn’t have acted like an ass the other night and I should have asked what was bothering you yesterday. I guess I just enjoyed the quiet for a change.”

“Bite me,” she said with a smile, enjoying the camaraderie she shared with her partner. If she told him about vampires, the dynamics of their relationship would change. Reid would push her to get the help he thought she needed. On the off chance he believed her, he’d want her removed from the case—for her own protection.

She didn’t like either scenario. So, she had to run with what she was willing to share.

As an investigative team, they were so freaking far off the mark it was laughable. But why would any detective suspect vampires? It wasn’t as if vampires left evidence behind.

Or did they?

She glanced at Reid. Her GPS instructed her to turn right. “Did the tech guys ever finish enhancing the surveillance videos?”

One of the killers was vampire. That’s how he avoided the cameras. But a blurred image had briefly flashed across the digital screen on a single frame. If it was Dr. Weldon, she could legitimately investigate him without mentioning vampires. Daniels and Tanner, the original investigators, didn’t know one of the suspects wasn’t human. They thought there was a glitch in the digital video recorder. When the department techies couldn’t get a better image, they’d sent a digital copy from the hard-drive to the SBI crime lab in Asheville for digital enhancement.

“They didn’t get anything either. Just a fuzzy image of the back of a man’s head.”

Weldon. But she couldn’t prove it. So, she had no reason to bring up his name as a possible suspect—unless she could find a stronger link to Baldwin Industries. Even if she and Gerard found Weldon and the vampire responsible for Richard Baxter’s murder, how would she prove it? A vampire could make the evidence disappear.

She nearly choked on an indrawn breath.

How did one go about arresting a vampire anyway? Or explaining to one’s colleagues their suspect was a creature of the night?

“Here we are,” she said as she pulled into a swanky subdivision in Albemarle Heights, a small community outside of Asheville.

Brit Travers’ residence was the largest house on the block—a big, white-columned structure that looked as if it belonged on a plantation instead of a quarter acre lot in a crowded suburban neighborhood.

“He expecting us?” she asked.

“Captain called last night to tell him we were coming and ensure Travers’ cooperation.”

After she parked the car, she and Reid climbed out and walked up the brick sidewalk. They mounted the steps and stood on a long, narrow porch. Six white rockers sat in front of six tall windows, three each on either side of a wide oak door.

Tara in the burbs.

“Smells like old money,” Reid said with a sneer as he lifted the brass lion’s head knocker and rapped three times.

A large man in his mid-to-late forties with skin the color of Columbian coffee answered before Reid could lower his fist. He’d obviously been expecting them.

Reid gave Amber an “I told you so” look before flashing his badge. “Detective Reid Sheridan. This is my partner, Am…Detective Amber Buckley.”

The large man nodded. “Captain Stratford said you’d be stopping by.”

“You the butler?” Reid asked in a snarky tone.

Round dark eyes narrowed to predatory slits. “No. I’m Brit Travers.” His voice rumbled like softly rolling thunder before a storm.

Reid turned red. Amber had never seen her partner flush with anything other than anger. If the situation hadn’t been so precarious, she might have taken a moment to enjoy his discomfort. But Travers’ face darkened. And they couldn’t afford to piss him off. They couldn’t legally force his cooperation either.

Before Amber could say anything to smooth over Reid’s social gaff, her partner curled his lip in distaste and said, “You were married to Shannon Travers?”

“Reid…” She wanted to duct tape his mouth shut and push him off the porch before he said something really stupid.

What the hell happened to
him
letting
her
lead the interview?

The muscles in Travers’ shoulders bunched. He looked about two seconds away from throwing a punch. “Are you surprised because she’s white?”

Reid huffed. “I’m surprised because she’s a crack whore.”

“Reid!”
Where’s the damn duct tape when you need it?
He was going to frickin’ ruin any chance they had of questioning Travers.

Reid barely spared her a glance. “She is.” He turned his full attention back to Travers who’d turned purple with rage. A vein throbbed in his forehead. “And what I can’t figure is why a decent, hardworking fellow like yourself married her.”

Purple faded. The vein disappeared. Travers shook his head and sighed. “Her family had money. Mine had brains and determination. Neither approved. Her folks didn’t want their angel marrying a black man. And my family thought Shannon was redneck trash with money.”

“Huh.” Reid grunted. “Guess your parents were right. Your ex-wife
is
trash. And a hell of lot of trouble.”