"Tell me, Sarah."
"I left home when I was sixteen,” she whispered miserably, hating herself. “I couldn't live there anymore. I changed my name and cut off all contact so they couldn't find me.” It was close to the truth, close enough, she hoped, that he wouldn't know the difference.
He frowned at her in the dark car. “Why? Did something happen?"
She nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. “It just wasn't a good place for me."
"So where does Blackwood come in?” he asked, clearly puzzled.
"What?"
"Blackwood,” he repeated. “I saw your reaction at the police station and again tonight. You're really spooked by him."
"Blackwood . . .” Sarah said, thinking quickly, “. . . knew my parents. He'd recognize me and then . . . It's been twelve years since I've seen any member of my family. I'd like to keep it that way."
Raj was quiet, tapping on the steering wheel lightly, his gaze on the nighttime traffic, but his thoughts seemed far away. Abruptly, he looked back at her and asked, “So why this case? Why your interest in the missing women?"
"I just . . . I read about Trish in the paper. I felt sorry for her and I thought . . . Since I knew Tony sort of, and Cyn's my friend. I thought maybe I could do something instead of just waiting for Trish to die.” That part, at least, was true.
She waited for Raj's reaction, waited for him to blow up at her, accuse her of lying yet again, but he just tapped his fingers on the steering wheel some more, then checked his watch and said, “I've got to get you home."
When they reached the house, Sarah threw the car door open without waiting for Raj to turn off the engine. She started up the walk to her stairs, digging her keys out of her purse as she went. Behind her, she heard the beep of the BMW's remote and then he was next to her, beating her to the door and waiting while she unlocked it. She opened the door, stepped inside, and threw her purse on the stairs, shrugging out of her coat. Aware of him towering over her, she kept her heels on, but could still feel his cool stare following her every move. How much did he see? she wondered. Could vampires read human thoughts? Some said it was just a myth, but vampires weren't exactly lining up to be studied, so who really knew the truth?
"I'm going to put some water on for tea,” she said, not quite knowing what else to do. Raj followed her into the kitchen. As she reached for the kettle, his shadow fell over her and she had a moment of deja vu so strong, she had to grab onto the stove or fall over. She could feel him right behind her, blocking the doorway, his gaze icy hot against her back. Her heart began to race and a cold sweat covered her skin as she fought for her next breath.
"Sarah?"
She spun around at the sound of his voice, overwhelmed by the desire to close the distance between them, to reach up and touch his face, to run her fingers through his thick hair and see if it felt as silky as it looked. To feel his arms holding her effortlessly while he picked her up and plunged his cock deep inside her again and again, until she was screaming his name.
Shocked by her own thoughts, she forced herself to look away. Avoiding his touch, she slid sideways down the counter, until she came to the refrigerator. She turned her back to him and opened the door, pulling out of a bottle of cold water and holding it to her overheated face. “Sorry,” she said. “I'm a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well."
"I should go, then. Let you sleep."
"No,” she said quickly, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, grateful she was facing away from him and he couldn't see. She drew a deep breath and turned around, her gaze riveted to the water bottle as she twisted off the cap. “I was thinking I might be able to help with your investigation. You probably want to talk to some people on campus, and I could go with you, maybe, you know, since I work there. I thought we could be like partners,” she said reasonably. Unfortunately, when she raised her eyes, he wasn't looking at her like a partner. It was more like she was steak and he was a starving man.
Raj leaned in the doorframe, denying himself another step, afraid to get any closer to Sarah. His gums ached and his lips were closed tight over fangs that wanted nothing more than to sink into her soft flesh and drink the sweet nectar of her blood. He'd noted her reaction, known the moment her body remembered what had happened in the kitchen the night before, even though her mind had been wiped. He'd heard her heart speed up, had seen the sudden gleam of sweat above her lip, and known that the delicate valley between her breasts would be warm and damp.
He straightened away from the door, as much to relieve the pressure in his groin as anything else. “All right,” he said, thinking this was a very bad idea. He should be avoiding any contact with her, not setting up a fucking partnership. But for some reason, his mouth just kept talking. “I do need to talk to people,” he said. “Witnesses, families, that sort of thing. And some people find me intimidating."
"Really?” she said in a thin voice.
"You, on the other hand . . .” He couldn't help himself. He closed the distance between them and reached out to twirl a lock of her blond hair around his finger. “You're apple pie and Sunday school. People probably come up to you on the street and tell you their secrets. Small children seek you out in a crowd when they've lost their mothers."
Sarah scowled at him, clearly not knowing if she should be flattered or insulted by his description.
Raj laughed, feeling the sexual tension drain away.
She gave him a little half smile. “What the hell,” she said. “When do we start?"
"Tomorrow night, if you're available."
"Sure, why not? Who needs sleep?"
"I want to begin with Dr. Edwards's husband. He's a man and an academic so your presence should be particularly useful."
"Gosh, thanks. I love being useful. Who's Dr. Edwards?"
"Estelle Edwards. A medical researcher and the first woman to disappear. She doesn't fit the profile and I'd like to know why."
She shrugged. “Okay."
Raj smiled. “I'll let you get some sleep then,” he said. He strode down the hall, pleased to have made a clean get away, already thinking of ways to get out of meeting her tomorrow night. God knew he wanted to spend time with her. But he wanted it too much and that wasn't healthy for either of them. He reached the front door and turned around to call a good-bye, but Sarah was right behind him.
She stood there looking up at him, her hands behind her back like a well-behaved child. She drew a deep breath that did nothing for his newfound restraint, and said, “Don't you want to kiss me good night?"
He froze. “What?"
"A good night kiss,” she persisted.
He frowned. “Sarah . . ."
She gave him an impatient look. “What's the problem, Raj? You kissed me last night, didn't you? And the night before that. Have I suddenly grown a second head or something?” She patted her shoulders, as if searching for the new growth.
"Fine.” He bent down, intending to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek, but Sarah had other plans. She turned her head at the last minute so that their lips met. And he was lost.
Her lips were soft and warm, melting beneath his as her mouth opened with a breathy little moan. He picked her up with an arm around her waist and spun around, trapping her against the wall, pressing his body to hers as he explored her sweet mouth. Their tongues tangled, her slender arms coming around his neck and pulling him closer until he thought they'd fuse into a single entity, trapped forever in a searing embrace. And surely there were worse ways to end one's life?
She cried out as his fangs nicked her lip and he pulled back, lost in his first taste of her blood, the dizzying spell of it as it raced through his system. He held her a moment longer, relishing the feel of her warm, willing body, the image of her arousal, her cheeks flushed and her eyes foggy with desire, and then he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor.
"Be careful, little one,” he whispered roughly. “Don't tease unless you're prepared to deal with the consequences.” He held her until she could stand on her own, permitting himself one tender kiss against her hungry little mouth before he pulled away. “I'll call you tomorrow,” he said, and then he left, her frustrated protest echoing down an empty sidewalk behind him.
Chapter Twenty-four
Raj secured his private vault door and went directly to the bar, pouring a shot of vodka and tossing it down his throat. But nothing could wash away the lingering taste of Sarah's blood. Maybe if he'd never tasted her beyond the sweetness of her skin, he could have stayed away from her. But now . . . That tiny sip of her blood had sealed his fate. He could still leave her behind, could run back to Manhattan on the fastest jet he owned, but he would never erase the memory, the need. She was his, and he'd be damned if he'd let anyone else, human or vampire, have her. But would Sarah be damned instead if he took her?
He slammed the empty glass back onto the bar and tore off his clothes, aware of the sun rising, draining away his energy. When he fell at last into his bed, he welcomed the sweet oblivion of daytime sleep. For a few hours at least, he would be free.
When he awoke that night, there was a message from Tony Scavetti waiting for him on his voice mail asking him to call. It was hardly expected, but it was nice to know his business cards hadn't gone to waste.
Raj showered and dressed before punching in the detective's direct number.
"Scavetti."
"Raymond Gregor, Detective. You called."
"Yeah,” Scavetti said, sounding as if he'd rather have pulled every one of his own teeth than to have made that call. “I understand you'd like to talk to some of the witnesses."
Since this was about the last thing Raj expected the man to say, it took him a minute to respond. “I would,” he said finally.
"Yeah, well. I've made some calls. Dr. Edwards will be home tonight if you want to see him."
