HE'S TAKING A BITE OUT OF CRIME. Alex Sanchez is more than just an ordinary detective. He's on the prowl—as a vampire. Alex uses his unique gifts to police the mean streets of Chicago like a natural predator. But when he learns that local blood banks are being robbed, he's not sure what rattles him more: the bizarre crime wave or the stunningly beautiful journalist who's reporting it…
SHE'S RISKING HER NECK FOR A STORY. Keira Turner is dedicated to her job—and determined to uncover the truth. Dangerously, out-of-this-world handsome Detective Sanchez seems oddly fascinated by the crimes—and obsessed with Keira. Alex might not have a clue who's stealing blood but he's sure of one thing: Keira is no mere mortal. She's descended from a long line of vampire hunters. And if they try to solve this case together, he'll have to fight the urge to kiss her…or kill her.
Release date:
September 1, 2015
Publisher:
St. Martin's Publishing Group
Print pages:
352
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"Something is wrong." Keira Turner put her hands palm down on Chicago Police Detective Alex Sanchez's desk and leaned forward. "There's been a series of thefts at area blood banks and hospitals that aren't being investigated by the authorities. I want to know what you're going to do about it."
"The first thing I'm going to do is ask you to take your hands off my desk," Alex said.
She straightened and rearranged her messenger bag across her body. As a reporter, she approached her stories with passion and intensity. For personal reasons, this one hit her particularly hard, which was why she was standing in front of this particular Chicago detective and glaring at him. Her ten-year-old godchild, Benji, had a rare condition that required him to get frequent blood transfusions. The threat of a depleted blood supply was a matter of extreme concern for Keira. But that wasn't the only reason she was here.
She'd rushed right over to the police station from the trendy press luncheon regarding the city's upcoming Taste of Chicago event she'd been required by her editor to attend. Glancing down at her favorite red skirt and cheerful floral top, she wished she'd worn something less feminine and more kick-ass. But she hadn't wanted to take the time to change clothes before confronting Alex Sanchez. Instead, she pulled out her tough-as-nails attitude to deal with him. "That's it? I tell you that there's been a series of thefts that no one seems to be investigating and you do nada?"
"If that's a reference to my Latino heritage-" Alex began.
She cut him off, leaning closer again to murmur, "It's not. It's a reference to your vampire heritage."
That got his attention. His dark eyes met hers. "Shut up." His words were all the more threatening since they were spoken so quietly and intensely. His smile was equally dangerous. "Leave," he said. "Go home right now and don't come back."
"No way." She stood her ground. It was too late to turn and run at this point anyway. She was here on a mission and if she failed, things could get very bad for a lot of innocent people, including Benji.
Alex stood. She refused to be intimidated, but it was difficult not to be shaking in her size eight ballet flats. He was darkly sexy with his black hair tumbling over his forehead. No buzz cut for this guy. He had classic features with standout cheekbones. In his black jeans and black shirt, he didn't look like any of the other Chicago detectives that she'd spoken to over the past few days. But then he was a vampire.
She still found that fact hard to believe, but believe it she did. The past twenty-four hours had changed everything.
Yesterday at this time she'd been walking into the bank and opening a safe-deposit box with the key she'd found among her recently deceased mother's possessions. While still mourning her loss, Keira was going through her mom's things in an attempt to clear up her estate. As an only child with no other close relatives, Keira was left with the task of getting things in order and slowly clearing out her mother's condo. Her mother was killed by a drunk driver, and going through her house and everything she'd held dear prevented Keira from focusing on the huge hole in her heart. She refused to fall apart; there was just too much to do.
She wasn't sure what she expected to find in that safe-deposit box-perhaps birth certificates and other important papers, that sort of thing. That kind of stuff was in there, it turned out, along with an antique-looking journal and a letter from her grandfather who'd died a year ago.
She'd gathered everything up and taken it all home to look over.
Keira went through the diary in a state of disbelief. The handwritten text dated back to the days right before the Great Chicago Fire in 1871 and ended with his death a year ago. She'd thought he was an accountant, so surely what he'd written was mere fantasy and not reality.
But he addressed her assumptions in his letter to her. She had already memorized parts of it.
Listen, kiddo, I know you're finding this all hard to believe. I would if I were in your shoes. But it's the truth. Evil does exist. Vampires do exist. Check the records I have left. You can also verify the newspaper clippings in this journal. You'll find that my birth certificate dates back to 1841. I'm a vampire hunter and as such I have extreme longevity. The fact that you're reading this now means my time on this earth is done. Your mother knows nothing of any of this. I slipped my journal into her safe-deposit box without her being aware of it. Seek out vampire Alex Sanchez in the Chicago Police Department. Trouble is coming ...
"Let's talk. In here," Alex said, interrupting her thoughts as he opened the door to an interrogation room.
Keira paused. She'd done what her grandfather requested. She'd researched on her own and reached the conclusion that it was possible vampires did exist. So here she was, mere inches away from one. The reason she was here was twofold: both for Benji and the blood thefts, as well as for the contents of her grandfather's journal. She'd been up most of the night skimming the journal's many pages and hadn't thought things through regarding her plan of action with Alex.
To fight or to flee? She'd always been a fighter. So she stayed and walked into the room.
"Take a seat," Alex said.
"I'd rather stand." She kept her back to the wall and stayed near the door should she need to make a quick exit. Who was she kidding? Like she could run from a vampire if he wanted to stop her.
Keira had been accused of being an adrenaline junkie in the past. She blamed that trait for her willingness to have a private conversation with a vampire.
According to her grandfather's journal, vampires came in various shapes and ages. Some were darkly attractive like Alex, who was even sexier than the hot guys on a Telemundo telenovela. Others were completely nondescript. All possessed the ability to move at freaky-fast hyper speed. She had a snowball's chance in hell of escaping unless Alex chose to let her go.
Alex leaned his hip against the table and tossed down a yellow legal pad. "So tell me, what's your interest in this case?"
"Really?" she challenged him. "That's the first thing you're going to ask me? Not about my vampire comment?"
He remained calm. "What's your name?"
"Keira Turner."
He wrote her name on the legal pad. She noted that he was a leftie. He had artistic hands that had her wondering what it would feel like to have them on her body. That freaked her out, making her fiddle nervously with the ring on her right middle finger. The evil eye ring had been a gift on her sixteenth birthday from her grandfather after he'd taken a trip to Turkey. The red stones were rubies and the white ones, diamonds.
Her grandfather had told her that the ring would provide protection and good luck. At the time she'd asked if that meant she'd get into Northwestern as her number one college choice. Now she wondered if the ring could help save her from unfriendly vampires. As if there were friendly ones.
Alex wasn't looking very friendly at the moment. Not that he went all feral and bared his fangs at her or anything. Indeed, he had an edgy surface charm that belied the fact that he was a vampire. She still wasn't sure why her grandfather had insisted she see Alex, but his notes had indicated that it was imperative she do so.
"And your interest in this case is...?" he was saying.
"You're really going to stand there and pretend this is just another case? I don't believe you," she said.
"Yet you believe I'm a vampire." His eyes glowed with anger.
"Because you are a vampire," she said with absolute certainty.
* * *
Alex looked at the fiery woman in front of him. He didn't have time for this shit. He had a heavy caseload as well as the issue of the stolen blood. The human officials in the police department weren't placing the latter very high on their priority list.
And now this woman walked into his police station. He could sense the rapid beat of her heart, yet she showed no other signs of fear. She couldn't be compelled or she would have left when he'd ordered her to do so. He knew from experience that humans who couldn't be compelled weren't ever completely human.
She wasn't a vampire. He inhaled deeply and analyzed her scent. Lemons. She smelled like lemons. Her dark hair barely brushed her shoulders, and her big brown eyes were much lighter than his. She was tall, curvy, and wearing a flowery top with a flirty red skirt and flats. He preferred heels on his women. Very high heels. Despite the fact that it was midsummer, her skin was pale and luminescent. So even though she wasn't one, she looked more like a vampire than he did.
"Your address?" he asked.
She bit her bottom lip. Her mouth was highlighted with a lush red lipstick that glistened in the fluorescent overhead lighting.
The flash of her white teeth nipping her own flesh made his vamp senses spring to life. Just looking at her made him go hard. He hadn't expected such an intense reaction. But there was something about her that called to him on some deep level.
Being a detective meant that Alex had to deal with more humans than the rest of his clan. Her accusation that he was a vampire was a first for him. So was his response to her. Sure, he'd seen sexier women, but this one spiked his interest. She was different ... not in a good way but in a guaranteed-trouble kind of way.
"What's your interest in this case?" he repeated.
"I'm a reporter with ReadIt." She held out her press credential.
He reached for it. Their fingers touched and he felt the reverberations throughout his body. He could sense her heart rate speeding into the stratosphere.
The photo on her ID didn't do her justice. He was familiar with the online news blog. She didn't look like a force to be reckoned with but she sure acted like one.
"Are you going to address the elephant in the room?" she demanded.
Alex deliberately looked around. "I don't see any elephants."
"You know what I mean."
"I'm not a mind reader."
"No, you're a vampire."
"So you've said. And you've reached that outrageous conclusion because of a series of robberies at blood banks?"
"No."
Getting answers out of her was like pulling teeth.
"Are you denying you're a vampire?" she said.
"Are you interviewing me as a reporter? Because that's not how this works. I ask the questions and you answer them," he told her.
"Why?" she countered.
"Because I'm a cop. That's what I do." It wasn't the only thing he did. There were times when he threw the police policy and procedures manual out the window and took things into his own hands. Justice was too blind sometimes. But Alex had excellent vision.
"As a cop, you should be solving crimes like these robberies," she said.
"Have you contacted the robbery division?" he countered.
"Of course I have. They brushed me off just like you are doing right now. Well, not exactly like you, given the fact that you have powers they don't. You tried to compel me a few minutes ago. It didn't work."
"You have a vivid imagination," he drawled.
"I have proof," she said.
"I doubt that."
"My grandfather was Horace Turner. He died a year ago."
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"You might know him by his other name. The Executioner."
Alex was careful not to show any reaction. Hell, yes, he knew The Executioner. He was a vampire hunter extraordinaire, the stuff legends were made of. No one had been able to pin down his identity. He'd died mysteriously last year-or so rumor had it. Even then, no name had ever been attributed to him other than The Executioner.
"He was a hunter," she said. "Have you heard of him?
Alex kept his expression blank and his mouth shut. The sins of the grandfather shouldn't be the sins of the granddaughter ... unless she, too, was a hunter?
"I'm a reporter-" she began.
"Doing a story about vampires and blood banks?" he interrupted her to demand.
"No. Well yes, sort of. Maybe I should start at the beginning."
"That would be a good idea. But keep it short." Alex tapped his watch. "I don't have all day."
"You have eternity."
"I'm a cop," he said. "I have other cases to work on."
"Fine. There has been a sudden rash of robberies from area blood banks and hospitals. Or to be more specific, robberies in certain areas of Chicago. The Gold Coast and an area northwest of there."
She was referring to Vamptown although she didn't know it. The Gold Coast was a well-known section of the city bounded by Lake Shore Drive and North Avenue. Back in the day, millionaires built their mansions there. The area was still inhabited by some of Chicago's wealthiest citizens and deadliest vampires.
But Vamptown, an area northwest of there, remained entirely beneath the human radar. You wouldn't find it on Google Maps or anywhere else. The vampires who resided there liked it that way. They existed within one of the biggest cities in America yet no humans knew they were there.
Keira was speaking again. "Several of the locations had surveillance cameras, but the strange thing was that nothing showed up."
"You're saying the surveillance was tampered with?" Alex said.
"Vampires can't be filmed."
Alex sighed. "So we're back to that, are we? Vampire lore? Really?"
"Yes, really."
"The cameras might have been tampered with because someone on the inside with access to them messed with them," he said. "A human, not a vampire."
"I realize it's not proof. I'm just saying that it's one of a number of things that are very suspicious," she said.
"What else do you have?"
"Why steal blood?"
"To get attention," he said. "Which is why we aren't promoting this in the press. There have only been three robberies and one attempted robbery."
The attempted incident had taken place in Vamptown last night. Damon Thornheart, the head of security for Vamptown, had heightened the security level because of the earlier thefts.
Alex agreed with Damon's early assessment that the Gold Coast vampires were probably responsible. But they had no proof. And now they had this reporter nosing around. Even more disturbing was the fact that she was The Executioner's granddaughter.
Before Alex could devise a plan to deal with her, the door to the interrogation room swung open and Lawrence Lynch, leader of the Gold Coast vampires, stood there. Tall, but not at tall as Alex, he was the embodiment of wealth, power, and entitlement.
"You may leave now," Lynch told the police officer he'd compelled to take him to Alex. The vampire's courtesy was at odds with his ruthless manner.
"It appears we have a situation," Lynch continued before eyeing Keira. "What have we here? A little snack before lunch?"
"She was just leaving," Alex said curtly before tilting his head toward the exit.
"Without you introducing us? But that would be so rude." He smiled at Keira. "I'm Lawrence Lynch. And you are?"
"Just leaving," she said to Alex's relief.
The instant she was gone, Lynch said, "What was that about?"
"Nothing." Alex got right down to business. He had no time or desire to exchange pleasantries. "I assume you're here because of the blood thefts?"
"Naturally."
"There's nothing natural about this. Stealing blood is a direct breach of the truce between our clans," Alex said.
"I'm aware of that fact. I'm also aware of the probability that you think we are behind the incidents."
"Are you saying you aren't?"
Lynch flicked a tiny bit of lint from his Italian-tailored jacket sleeve. "I'm saying that you should consider us innocent until proven guilty."
"That's mortal law," Alex said. "Not vampire law."
"Because vampires are never innocent," Lynch said. "True enough. But we aren't responsible."
"Did I say you were?"
"Not yet. I thought I'd stop you before you did."
"So the only reason you stopped by was to tell me that the Gold Coast vamps have nothing to do with the recent thefts?" Alex said.
"I didn't say that."
Alex balled his hands into fists out of frustration. "No, you didn't. Why are you here?"
"I'd hate to see a turf war break out over this."
"Then stop the thefts," Alex told him.
"How do I know that the Vamptown clan isn't behind them? After all, you have a busy funeral home in your territory ... or do you prefer the term neighborhood?"
Alex shrugged. "Either one works for me."
"Your clan could just as easily be responsible for these troubles."
"We aren't."
"Your unwillingness to share your secrets about being able to tolerate sunlight has been a thorn in our side for decades," Lynch said.
"You seem to be doing okay."
Lynch shrugged. "It's cloudy today."
"Is that what this is about?" Alex demanded. "Your envy over our ability to tolerate sunlight better than you can?"
"No. I'm merely pointing out that it would be a bad move on your part to start trouble with us over this blood issue."
"Message received," Alex said curtly. "The same goes for you and your clan."
"You'll learn soon enough that you aren't as special as you think," Lynch said cryptically. And then he was gone.
Lynch's departure at vamp speed guaranteed that no human would see him.
"What was that about?" Keira asked the minute Alex crossed the threshold of the interrogation room.
"Get back in here." He tugged her into the room once more. "What kind of stunt are you pulling, strolling in here and making wild accusations? Are you writing some tabloid story or something?"
"ReadIt is not a tabloid. We do the stories others refuse to cover."
"Like vampire stories?" he mocked her.
"No, not like vampire stories."
"Why did you come here?" he demanded.
"I told you. There have been several robberies from-"
Alex interrupted her. "I know all that. I don't know what your connection is other than your claim about being interested in the story as a reporter."
"Action needs to be taken," she said. "So what's next?"
"What's next is that you go home and leave this to the professionals," Alex said.
"To the professional vampires, you mean?" she countered.
Alex had to figure a way to shut her up The fact that she knew he was a vampire made her a danger to his Vamptown clan. It would be so much easier if he could just compel her, but since he couldn't he would have to come up with another plan. He could lock her up somewhere and throw away the key, but then he'd have to give her food or she'd die. Death wasn't an option; she was annoying, but that didn't warrant a death sentence. He had to figure out what was going on with this Keira Turner, this vampire hunter's next of kin. And he couldn't do that here. It was too risky given the number of people at the police station. He had to get her someplace alone, where she couldn't tell others that he was a vampire. And he had to do it fast.
"Let's go." He took her by the arm and hustled her out of the building to the fenced-in parking area in the back. The day might be cloudy but the air was thick with humidity and heat, more heat than usual even though it was early July.
"Where are we going?" she demanded.
"To your place."
"I don't usually invite strange men to my apartment," she mocked him. "But then you aren't a man. You're a vampire."
"Okay, I'll bite," he said.
"I hope not," she muttered, fingering her ring nervously.
"What makes you think I'm a vampire?"
"The facts."
"As imagined by your grandfather, right?" He headed for his black Camaro, stopping long enough to open the door for her.
His chivalrous action was noted by her. "Thanks," she said automatically before hesitating. "I am not getting in that car with you. My apartment is only a few blocks away. We can walk unless sunlight bothers you?" she asked as the clouds parted.
"Does it bother you?" he countered. "You're paler than I am."
"Blame that on my Irish ancestors."
"Or your witch ancestors." He slammed his car door shut and took her by the arm again.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't have any witch ancestors and my apartment is the other direction," she said as he headed off at a brisk pace, leaving the parking area and heading around the corner.
"I know a shortcut," he said.
Once again, she stopped in her tracks. "I don't do shortcuts."
"Tough shit," he growled. "Let's go."
She wisely didn't argue this time. Pissing off a vampire was not a wise move. He hoped she made that realization, but she didn't stay silent for long. "Why are we going to my apartment?"
"Privacy."
"To do what?" she demanded suspiciously.
He tugged her away from a texting pedestrian who nearly rammed into her. "Idiot," he growled.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Keira said.
"Too late now. We're at your apartment building."
"I can refuse to go in."
"You could," he agreed. "But then you'd never get what you came to me for."
"Which is?"
"Answers."
She stared at him intently for a long time. He let her. He could sense what she was thinking, wondering if it was safe to trust him. It wasn't, of course, but he couldn't let her know that. He wouldn't kill her. But he could make her life very difficult if she didn't cooperate.
"Okay," she finally said and unlocked the door to the building. The tiny foyer held mailboxes for the three apartments inside. The door from the foyer into the hallway and stairs had a security system requiring a code to be entered.
Her apartment was on the third floor. He would have expected her to live in one of the many high-rises instead of this throwback building located between a Starbucks and a twenty-four-hour Korean market. She seemed pretty upscale in that flirty red skirt of hers that he was finding more attractive by the minute. And those shoes of hers, while not heels, did draw attention to the sexy length of her legs. Definitely not struggling-writer attire. He expected her apartment to be upscale as well, but instead it had a trendy boho vibe.
She opened the door and stumbled back. Upended chairs and a broken coffee table rested on piles of books, papers, and mutilated pillows disgorging their feathers. Drawers from her bedroom had been dumped out and strewn all over. A silky black bra hung from a lamp shade, which was itself tilting drunkenly to one side.
"Messy much?" he drawled as he automatically shoved her behind him while he surveyed the room. He didn't sense anyone there-human or otherwise.
"I am a very tidy person," she shot back. "Someone broke in here and did this."
She seemed more angry than scared, which some might find heroic but Alex found problematic. She was strong, yes, but he had hoped to use fear to make her compliant.
"What are you doing?" he said as she took out her cell phone.
"Calling the police."
He took the phone from her. "I am the police, remember?"
She glared at him. "Did you do this? Trash my place?"
"I've been with you since you walked into the police department. Do you think I can be in two places at the same time?"
"You weren't with me the entire time. I left you with that other guy ... Lynch. Lawrence Lynch. Was he a vampire, too? Did vampires do this?"
"You really do need to stop blaming vampires for everything that goes wrong. Clearly whoever broke in here was looking for something. They left valuables like your TV. What about your computer?"
She patted the large messenger bag hanging across her body. "It's in here."
Alex was getting a bad feeling about this. "This wasn't a normal robbery."
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