Her husband pulled back, his blue eyes burning with desire. "Alexis, my love, you are hot when you get violent."
Alexis trailed her fingers over his crotch, suddenly feeling much better. "I'm going to have to teach Cara karate. She needs to know how to protect herself. Same with Kelsey."
"The three of you training together?" Ethan finished with her buttons and tossed her sweater to the floor. "That sounds brilliant, yet absolutely frightening. Now be quiet and let me make you scream."
She could do that.
"She's a vampire," Ringo told Donatelli. "Fox must have turned her the night she got hit by the car."
"Interesting." Donatelli sat back in his wrought-iron chair at a cafe inside the Venetian's shopping complex.
Ringo wished his employer would have chosen a more private location. Generally speaking, Ringo liked to stay quietly in the shadows, a good habit for an assassin, and this hotel was always crammed with people rubbernecking at the fake sky and indoor gondola ride.
"It's just beautiful," he heard one woman say to her plump companion as they stared at the ceiling mural.
Ringo had to disagree. He also had to swallow hard and force himself to ignore the pounding rush of blood in the women's bodies. Always, always hungry. He fed, he just wanted more. Now that he had taken from both Katie and Dawn, the stripper, he was no longer satisfied with bagged blood. He yearned and ached to hold warm flesh close to him, to feel their shudder of pleasure when he sank into their veins and drew hot juicy blood up and out.
Both those feedings had been paired with sex, making it all that much more addictive. These tourist women didn't inspire sexual feelings in him, but the blood did. He was hard at the thought of feeding again. And on the other hand, the women were not unattractive. Even the curvier one was pretty, and big breasted. It would be damn satisfying to give them pleasure like they'd never known, to make them scream like Dawn had. He could take one then the other, back and forth…
"Did you know Williams never came back?" Donatelli asked, stirring sugar into his coffee.
Ringo looked at him blankly, the women still stealing his attention as they bent over to inspect a vase in a shop window. He wondered briefly if Donatelli was going to drink the coffee, why older vampires could drink liquids besides blood, and how the Italian had gotten his status as major vampire player in the first place, before he became fully aware of what Donatelli had even said.
"He didn't come back? Where did he go? Is he dead?" Ringo was having a hard time concentrating on their conversation. It felt like he was under water, with everything trailing and cloudy.
"I don't know where he is. He went to Carrick's casino, and never returned. I can only assume he is dead or allowed himself to be caught by Carrick. With Smith still out of commission, I need you to retrieve Williams and bring him back to us."
"And the girl?"
"No need to do anything about her. We'll just let it be known in the Nation that Fox has a fledgling. His first ever, I believe. Excellent timing for me that he'd choose now to be a hypocrite." Donatelli smiled, but there was no warmth to it. "Maybe I should send him a thank-you gift."
Ringo's eyes wandered over to the women again. The petite one met his gaze. Her smile fell off her face and she shivered, gave a sharp intake of breath. The soccer mom was afraid of him. Ringo turned back to Donatelli. "A fruit basket?" he asked, letting his sarcastic thought slide out before he could debate whether that was wise or not.
But Donatelli actually laughed. "That's amusing. I like that."
Ringo lit up a cigarette, and couldn't prevent a grin. He hadn't been serious, but why the hell not? It might be funny. "I can have one sent around right about the time I'm hauling Williams's ass out of there."
"Perfect." Donatelli tilted his head slightly to the left. "Now you're free to go. And I don't mind if you take a few minutes first and enjoy the desperate housewives over there."
His eyes locked on the two women, and Ringo knew Donatelli had picked up on his arousal, his desire to feed. Humiliation washed over him, stronger than the blood lust. Every step he took into vampirism, he walked farther and farther from himself. Not that he'd been a man of upstanding character before, but he had answered to no one but himself. Now he did whatever Donatelli and the blood lust wanted him to do. He wanted to rail against that, stand tall, and remind himself that he was still his own man, even as he swam frantically in the warm waters of addiction.
"I'm fine, but thanks," he said. "I'll go straight over to the Ava."
"Suit yourself." Donatelli ran a finger over the rim of his coffee cup. He gazed out over at the mall area.
Suddenly the two women stopped in front of the chocolate shop. Both turned around and smiled in their direction. The one bent down and whispered to the other and they gave girlish giggles.
"You're certain? It appears the ladies are coming in this direction."
They were. They were strolling back toward where Ringo and Donatelli sat, their hips swaying, their bags carried artfully, their hair tossed back playfully. Ringo's mouth watered, his muscles tensed, his foot tapped, tapped, tapped under the table.
"No, I'm fine," he managed even as a sweat broke out all over his body.
Donatelli stood up and tossed some money on the table. "Then I'll just go and enjoy them solo. Have a good evening."
The Italian walked over to the women and said something. They stopped, smiled, pointed, and we were soon deep in conversation, all three walking away together.
And Ringo realized this was how Donatelli had gotten to his position of importance in the Vampire Nation.
He was a ruthless bastard.
Seamus was half asleep, listening to the sound of the water as Cara took a shower, a dog on either side of him, a cat sitting behind his head. He felt delirious with pleasure, carefree and in love. Yep. The big L. He'd gone and done it.
Somewhere between that first moment he'd laid eyes on Cara and the first time they'd had sex, he'd fallen in love with her. It felt right, good, strong. He was in love and nothing could ruin his mood.
His cell phone rang and he dragged it out of his pants pocket and checked caller ID. It was Ethan, so he answered it. "Yeah?"
"Are you guys done yet?"
"What do you mean?" Seamus propped himself against the headboard, disturbing Mimi, the black cat. She gave him a dirty look and pushed her paws into his gut, kneading him like dough. In his mellow mood he let her.
"I mean, are you and Cara
done
? I need to talk to you about this whole mess."
Seamus didn't even want to know how or why Ethan knew what he and Cara were doing. Nor did he really want to talk about the political climate. But it wasn't going to disappear, and he and Cara
were
done, for at least the next hour or so. After that invigorating nap, he might be ready to go again, but he should let Cara recover. "Alright, why don't you come to my place in ten minutes? And can you have security send up that tape of the night you were shot? I think Cara and I have seen your assassin friend."
"Really? Interesting. By the way, I have a thought or two I want to discuss with you."
"See you in ten." Seamus hung up the phone and dropped it on his stomach next to the cat. Not even assassins and frustrating mysteries that seemed to dance around him and dart away before he could solve them could ruin his sense of bliss. He was one slap-happy vampire.
The water was off and Cara was softly humming in the bathroom. It was a song Seamus didn't recognize, cheerful and upbeat. She made a twang sound, and he picked up on the fact that it was a country tune. Unable to resist, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom naked.
Pushing the door open, he saw Cara drying herself off with one of the new pink towels, steam rising all around her. Her soft black hair was clinging to her head and back, and her skin was dewy, flushed a subtle red in the spots where the hot spray had hit repeatedly. When the towel slipped and Seamus caught a glimpse of her perky round backside, he slipped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
She jerked a little, then relaxed, "Hey. You move so damn quietly, like a mouse."
"Like a vampire." He nuzzled the back of her ear, her hot skin warming him up, her backside pressed against his rapidly growing erection. Running his palms over her abdomen, he asked, "Are you okay? Not too sore?"
She leaned back and kissed his cheek, "I'm fine. Good. You are… mmm." Turning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Beyond my wildest dreams."
That was a compliment worth recording. Seamus kissed her forehead, pulled her body in close to his. "I thought it was amazing, too, but I was, well, rougher than I intended to be."
It didn't seem like she'd minded at the time, but he still felt a twinge of guilt now. He could have proceeded with a little more caution and finesse, but once he had let the horse out, he'd gone for a full gallop.
"Just remember paybacks are hell." She gave him a saucy look, a secret womanly smile that told him she was pleased, satisfied.
Which made him satisfied. And turned on. "Cara…" He bent to kiss her.
The doorbell rang.
"Shit."
"We can ignore it," she said, pressing her hips into his.
Seamus groaned in frustration. "No, it's Ethan. He's bringing up the tape of the would-be assassin."
Cara sighed and pulled back. "Which one?" she asked dryly. "The one who tried to kill him or the one who tried to kill me?"
That made Seamus ill just thinking about Cara being in danger. "The one who tried to kill him. The asshole who went after you is still in lock-up, detoxing. Once he's clean, we'll transport him for a trial by his vampire peers."
Cara shivered and reached for her clothes. "I guess we should get dressed."
"Ethan might prefer that." He went back into the bedroom for a pair of jeans, forgoing the boxer shorts.
Two minutes later he left Cara in the bedroom to call the hospital to see about Dawn's condition, and he went to let in Ethan, who was grinning.
"Hey, Fox."
"Carrick." Seamus didn't like the look on Ethan's face or the way he clapped him on the shoulder a little too hard.
"We'll try to make this quick. I know it's late. You're probably ready for bed." The grin grew wider. "Again."
Ethan was about as subtle as a jalapeno. "Where's Alexis?"
"She's really worried about Brittany. She wanted to pop in on her again before she retires for the day."
"I thought Brittany just has the flu."
Ethan shrugged. "You know how Alexis is with Brittany." He glanced around Seamus. "Hello, Cara, interesting night, wasn't it?"
Seamus turned and took her hand, worried about the somber look on Cara's face. "How's Dawn, babe?"
"They said she's fine. She'll be going home this afternoon then after a few days of rest and proper nutrition she'll be completely recovered." She rubbed Seamus's palm restlessly. "I talked to Bryan. He says she doesn't really understand what happened to her. That she doesn't remember anything. But she told me she had sex, with that vampire. Why would he do that? Leave her like that?" Cara visibly shuddered.
Ethan tapped the tape in his hand. "Young vampires lose control. Conscience-less vampires enjoy the power, the thrill. If we can catch him, we could censure him, put him under a no-travel restriction. He would have to stay here so we could monitor him, sort of like the Frenchman."
"But first we have to figure out who he is, and what he has to do with Ethan. And you and I." Seamus held his hand out for the tape. "Let's see who this bastard is."
"I have to tell you what Alexis told me."
Ethan surrendered the tape, but his words gave Seamus pause. "What did she say?"
"That Kelsey told her the blood was better at the Venetian, but she won't go there because that's where they took her the night she was attacked."
"The Venetian? The only vampire I know who hangs out at the Venetian is…" Seamus swore. "Donatelli. Shit. You don't think he's responsible for all of this?" Anything was possible, but Seamus didn't really see the motivation. Why kill him? Cara?
"It's possible. Let's see this tape, then we need to have another conversation with Kelsey."
Donatelli. It boggled the mind. Was he so desperate to take office that he would kill his opponent?
The tape went into the machine sitting in a cabinet under Sea-mus's plasma TV. A man was stepping off the elevator, bent over talking to someone, presumably Kelsey, since they couldn't see her.
"That's him," Cara said before Seamus could really even get a good look at him. "The guy who was in Dawn's dressing room."
"You're sure?" Ethan asked.
"Positive." Cara shifted closer to Seamus. "What is he doing? Why is he unzipping… oh, geez."
"He was with Kelsey, babe." Seamus curled his lip as the assassin's eyes closed in ecstasy. Seamus really could have done without this one-sided oral sex clip. He grabbed the remote and turned it off before he tossed up his blood breakfast. "That's the guy who was in the alley, too. The one who walked off with Kelsey. Do you think he works for Donatelli?"
"Let's get Kelsey down here and find out." Ethan pulled out his cell phone. "Yes, this is Mr. Carrick. Find my secretary Kelsey and send her to Mr. Fox's suite. Thank you."
Ethan turned back to them. "Security will find her and get her here in a few minutes. Sorry for interrupting your morning, Cara."
Cara waved her hand and sat down on the leather sofa. "No, it's fine. I want to know what the hell is going on. Why this happened to Dawn. I feel so bad… he wouldn't have approached her if it wasn't for me, I'm sure of it."
"It's not your fault, Cara." Seamus sat next to her, stroked her knee. "It's mine. You know Donatelli and Ethan are in the middle of a heated presidential election. If this is the Italian's doing, then I led them right to you and to Dawn. Regardless of whether or not Donatelli called out a hit on any of us, we have to be prepared for him to use you against Ethan. He's going to point you out to the Nation as a sign of my hypocrisy, and Ethan's. You'll be scrutinized, questioned." Seamus sighed and turned to Ethan, his friend and mentor. "It's time for me to come clean. I should hold a press conference and explain about Cara, then resign."