The Darkest Kiss

“No.” But my treacherous hormones were certainly into all that leather. He was a tall man—nearly a foot taller than me, and at five seven, I wasn’t short—and powerfully built, with chiseled features and thick black hair. And all that wonderful black leather fit like a glove, emphasizing and enhancing his muscular build.

He undid the stud at his neck, then lowered the jacket zip, revealing a dark blue T-shirt underneath. My nostrils flared, sucking in the musky scent of man mixed with just the faintest hint of perspiration.

Very nice indeed.

“I think you need to come for a ride on one of my bikes. That’ll change your tune.”

The image of pressing close to his leather-clad body as we roared through the streets on his noisy machine had my pulse rate tripping—but I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or panic. I mean, I liked looking—a lot—but I didn’t feel ready for anything more right now. A quick dance with a stranger during the moon heat was safe enough for both my wounded heart and my emotions.

This wolf was not.

I stepped back, and waved him on ahead. “Cars are safer.”

“That’s the problem. There’s no direct thrill.”

“There is with sports cars.”

“It’s not the same, trust me.” He glanced down at me, eyebrow raised. “And how can a guardian afford to get around in a sports car?”

“She can’t. But I’ve been in them.”

“Not the same.” He began climbing the building’s outside steps to the first floor, leaving me rather ideally placed for some butt-viewing action. “De

“Did the cops talk to the neighbor he has got?”

He shrugged, making the leather jacket ripple rather nicely. “They weren’t exactly telling me much.” He threw a grin over his shoulder. “But that could have something to do with me calling them pricks who wouldn’t know a murder if it slapped them in the face.”

“Could be,” I agreed dryly.

We reached the end of the balcony. He stopped and opened a door that looked freshly painted. The air that flooded out was filled with the scent of roses and death.

I stepped past Ben into the apartment. It wasn’t exactly a huge place, but it was neat and bright, thanks to the white walls and the skylights. The first room was a living room and kitchen combined, and the whole area was extraordinarily clean. Even the sink gleamed.

I sca

“In the first bedroom.”

I walked around the L-shaped sofa and headed toward the first door. The smell of death was sharper the closer I got to the bedroom, and my skin crawled. Not because of the death scent, but because there was something else here, something that felt wrong.

I stopped just inside the doorway, briefly noting the blood splatters on the walls and the wide dark stain on the carpet before my gaze was drawn to the heavy-looking hook hanging from the ceiling above the stain.

“That where it happened?” Stupid question, but sometimes they just had to be asked.

“Yes.”

Ben had stopped right behind me, and the thick, warm heat of him flowed over me, drowning my senses and sending desire prickling across my skin. Not what I needed right now.

Or later, for that matter.

I turned around and lightly pressed my fingers into his stomach. Felt the steel of muscle underneath the cotton T-shirt. “You need to step back. You’re overwhelming my senses.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has said to me in a while.”

He didn’t move, but then again, I wasn’t pushing very hard. Not yet.

I snorted softly. “Somehow, I’m doubting that.”

“You’d be surprised.” He took several steps back. The richness of his aroma abated enough to allow more of the room’s flavors in. “We strippers are taken for granted more often than not.”

“I thought you didn’t do much stripping now.” I turned around and took a step forward, distancing myself a little more and trying to catch the source of that tenuous, unsettling scent.

“I don’t. But I wasn’t always a manager.”

“So how long have you been in the profession?” I took another step forward. That strange scent got a bit stronger, reminding me more and more of a vampire’s scent—only if the killer was a vampire, then he was one who smelled like no other vampire I’d come across.

“I’ve been in the business since I was seventeen. There wasn’t a whole lot else a kid with little schooling could do. Even apprenticeships need minimum grade levels.”

The closer I got to the bed, the stronger that odd smell got, and the more certain I became it was vampire. A vampire that smelled like no other, but a vampire all the same. And he’d been here recently. I stripped off the bedcovers and bent to sniff the sheets.

The scents of wolf and sex emanated off them, but though the vampire stench was extremely strong near the bed, he—or she—hadn’t been in it. Not that it meant anything. Someone who liked hanging themselves for kicks wasn’t likely to be restricted to a bed for lovemaking.

I looked at Ben. “Were any of De

He frowned. “Not that I know of. He had a couple of wolves he’d mentioned recently, but never a vampire.”

“Well, one’s been in this room. You can smell him near the bed.”

He came into the room, filling the whiteness with his dark vitality. He drew in a breath, then his blue gaze met mine. “Something smells old. Off, almost.”

I nodded. “Vampire.”

He frowned. “Vampires don’t smell like that.”

“Maybe not the ones you associate with, but the ones I deal with, yeah, they do.” I contemplated the heavy metal hook for a moment. There were no vibes of power in this room, no chill that indicated the other side was coming out to play. Maybe his soul had moved on, or maybe he simply didn’t want to talk. “I guess the first thing we need to do is try and uncover the name of the vampire who was here. What clubs did De

Ben smiled. “All of them. He liked to cruise.”

“No favorite, then? No club he went to more than others?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could ring up and ask Jilli. She might know.”

“Jilli being one of the wolves he mentioned recently?”

“Yeah. She owns and runs a coffee shop near the Blue Moon.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not Chiquita’s? They have the best blueberry muffins there. And the coffee’s not bad, either.”

“So this coffee that I owe you—shall I pay the fee there?”

I considered him for a moment, seeing the amusement and playfulness in his eyes, feeling the answering response low down in my belly. Wondered when—if—I was ever going to get back to the business of being a free and easy wolf.

I didn’t know, I really didn’t know, and I knew part of that was the fear of getting hurt again. After all, my heart couldn’t be broken again if I didn’t put it out there. And yet, how much longer could I continue to ignore a side of myself that was a part of my soul?

“It’ll probably be easier if I was there to talk to her, so yeah, that would be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, expression a little quizzical. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re avoiding the intent behind that question?”

“Because I am.” I turned and opened the drawer of the bedside table. Painkillers, books, and condoms. I pulled one out and showed it to Ben. “He fucked humans?”

“Yes. Not all the time, but he liked the challenge of the restraint they represented. He used condoms so there were no unwanted pregnancies.”

Because a wolf didn’t have to worry about STDs, thanks to our ability to heal all sorts of things during the shapeshift. “A condom is not one hundred percent safe.”

“It’s better than nothing.” He considered me for a moment, then said, “So despite the fact I can smell your interest, you don’t want to go out with me?”