Hotter Than Hell (28 page)

I raised my eyebrows. “Would you have sex with your girlfriend when your mom was in the room next door?”

His sudden smile was decidedly roguish, and had my pulse doing one of those excited little quicksteps.

“You’d be surprised what I got away with when my mom was in the next room.”

“Actually, no, I wouldn’t. ”

He picked up a photograph and stared at the image. “Going off with a girlfriend doesn’t explain why you smell vampire.”

“It would if the girlfriend was some sort of succubus.” Succubae—or energy vamps, as they were sometimes called—sucked life force rather than life blood and, unlike true vamps, they had fewer restrictions. Like being able to cross thresholds.

“They’re rare—especially in a small, out-of-the-way place like this.”

“Rare doesn’t mean can’t exist.”

“True.” He put the photo frame back down. “You up to visiting the other kid’s room?”

Part of me wanted to say no. Tasting shadows and darkness was never a pleasant thing, and usually I avoided doing it more than once a day. “It’s doubtful any useful scents will remain after a week.”

“But are you up to trying?”

I rubbed my arms. “Yeah. I guess.”

But only because time was of the essence if we were dealing with a succubus. Unlike regular suckers, they didn’t drain their victims in one hit, but rather over a couple of days. We still had a chance of finding Jon alive if we hurried.

Hope had all but faded when it came to the first boy, though. Succubae rarely went after another victim until they’d finished with the first.

“Did it say anywhere in the file whether the two boys hung out together?”

He shook his head. “But in a town this size, they probably would.” He paused. “Why?”

“Because it just seems odd an energy vamp would go after two teenage boys. I always thought they went after older, stronger life forces.”

“Normally, yeah.” He looked down at the bed for a moment, then walked around it and lightly touched my elbow. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Warmth flared where he touched, spreading like a wildfire up my arm and across my body, washing the chill and the thick feeling of darkness from my skin.

Normally I would have pulled away but right then, I needed that warmth. Needed the reminder of life and healthy, normal emotions to erase the last remainders of evil from my soul.

We walked down the stairs and back into the kitchen. Mari turned around as we entered, her hands gripped around a steaming mug of coffee and hope in her eyes. “Anything?”

“Perhaps,” I said cautiously, not wanting to feed the hope, but unwilling to crush it, either. “Tell me, did Jon have a girlfriend?”

She smiled. “No. He preferred hanging out with his mates.”

“Could you write out their names and addresses, and give it to us when we come back this afternoon?

We’ll need to talk to them, just in case they know or saw something.”

She nodded. “I think the police already talked to them.”

“We’d still like to double-check,” Ethan said, and lightly squeezed the elbow he still held.

We continued on outside, and I took a deep breath of the warm, summery air. Felt it brush the last vestiges of darkness from my lungs.

“Now you look a little healthier,” Ethan said, his gaze sweeping my face.

I pulled free of his grip and got some space between us again. “It always feels like the darkness is invading my soul, eating away at my very self.” A shudder ran through me. “And I always fear that one day, there won’t be any me left, just a memory and the sweeping strands of darkness.”

Which is something I’d told so very few people. Maybe my brush with evil had left me feeling more vulnerable than normal.

Though you’d think I’d be used to such brushes by now.

He frowned. “Then why do it? Why take that risk?”

“Because I have a gift, and it can sometimes save lives.” I shrugged. “My parents were the type who ingrained the ideology that if we have a skill, we should use it.”

“Even at the risk of your very self?”

“Even at.” I rubbed my arms again as we made our way towards Ethan’s car. “Can we talk about something else?”

“How about sex?”

“Other than that,” I said dryly.

He opened the car door and ushered me inside. “I don’t believe my topics of conversations contain anything else.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Because I’m a werewolf, and werewolves only talk about two things, don’t they? Sex, and how to get sex.”

He slammed the door shut and walked around to the driver’s side of the car, leaving me wondering about the slight edge in his voice. It wasn’t like I’d actually brought the damn subject up. Far from it.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, then accelerated down the driveway and onto the Great Ocean Road. Three streets and a quick left, and we were outside the second boy’s house. Like Ethan had said, this town wasn’t very big.

A woman waited out in front, her arms crossed over massive bosoms and an anxious expression on her fleshy face. “Mari rang and explained why you were coming,” she said, voice filled with strain and tiredness. “Do you really think you can help?”

“We can only try,” I said, then held out my hand and introduced myself. Ethan did the same. “What can you tell us about your son’s activities in the days before his disappearance?”

She shrugged. “He was out with his mates, most days.”

“Was one of those mates Jon?”

She nodded, then gave us an anxious sort of look. “Are the two connected? The police won’t say whether they are or aren’t.”

Maybe the police weren’t, but the local papers sure as hell were. Which undoubtedly was making life even harder for the parents of the other teenagers in Brad and Jon’s “gang.” “We don’t know as yet.” I paused, looking past her. “Can we go inside and look at his room?”

She nodded and led us inside. Brad’s room was at the rear of the house, and had easy access to the back door and the garden beyond. It would have been a simple task for a determined teenager armed with a key to get out of the house without his parents knowing.

I stepped into the room, gaze sweeping walls hung with pictures of semi-naked women. Jon had football stars. Maybe Brad was more sexually advanced than his mate—and perhaps that was a factor of him going first. If, indeed, we were dealing with an energy vamp.

“Anything?” Ethan asked.

I shook my head and stepped further into the room. Scents and emotions swirled around me, fading wisps of teenage hopes and dreams. But no darkness, no shadows.

I turned and looked at Ethan. His gaze roamed the pictures.

“The energy vamp didn’t enter this room,” I said, a touch sharper than I should have. Not that I actually cared if he ogled pictures of other women, I just wanted a little attention on the job. Damn it, if I could find the strength to resist base emotions and concentrate, then so could he.

Amusement briefly flared in his bright eyes. “She might have called him out. It looks like Brad was more sexually motivated than Jon.”

I picked my way through the clothing-strewn mess on the floor to the window. “I still don’t understand why this vamp would be going after teenagers. If it’s sexual energy she wants, older men would be more viable and strong, wouldn’t they?”

Ethan followed my steps, a heat I could feel more than see. He stopped just behind me, his breath brushing warmth across my neck, sending little flash fires of desire skittering across my too aware, too hot skin.

“It would depend on whether she prefers innocence or experience.”

“I didn’t think vamps of any kind were picky when it came to sustenance.”

“All creatures do what they must to survive. Doesn’t mean they aren’t picky when they have a choice.”

I looked over my shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Even werewolves?”

His bright gaze was still aware, still watchful. For what, I wasn’t entirely sure. “A werewolf has to have sex during the week leading up to the full moon, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t more choosy beyond those times.”

“And yet werewolves have a reputation for wanting sex twenty-four-seven, and for not being particularly caring about who their partner is.”

He reached out, and lightly brushed a hair from my cheek. His fingers barely even touched my skin, but I was a moth to his flame, and a shudder of sheer delight ran through me.

“Enjoying sex is not a crime. And I, like most werewolves I know, am more choosy than you seem to believe.”

It didn’t matter, I wanted to say, because we weren’t going to happen, and whatever I might think or feel wasn’t important. But I couldn’t force my tongue around the words.

Because probably sooner rather than later, we would happen.

I knew it, he knew it. All my protests to date were merely delaying the inevitable. He might not be the right man, this might not be the right situation, but it just didn’t seem so important any more. Not to hormones that had hungered for so long. I might not be a creature whose needs were swayed by the blooming of the moon, but I was still a wolf, still a woman, and I still needed the touch of another every now and again.

I stepped sideways. Fighting the inevitable just that little bit longer. “What next?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. It didn’t do much to hide the bulge of his erection. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one aching.

“We need to talk to the other kids. In the meantime, we’ll get Frank to check the database and see if there’s any records of an energy vamp being active in this area.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Would there be records?”

“Vampires tend to be territorial, so maybe.” He shrugged. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He didn’t touch me this time. Perhaps his control was as tenuous as mine.

I followed him out, and let him answer the mother’s questions with his usual charm and reassurance.

He was better at that sort of stuff than me. The werewolf aura and all that.

We got into the car and headed back to Mari’s to collect the list of Jon’s friends. There were four other teenagers in his gang, and after interviewing three of them, one thing became clear.

They were all lying.

“But why?” I asked, as we climbed back into the car after interviewing the third kid. “It just doesn’t make sense. They were all scared that what had happened to Jon and Brad would happen to them, so why wouldn’t they want to do everything they can to protect themselves?”

“We’re talking about teenage boys here.”

I frowned at him. “So?”

“So,” he said, starting the car. “Teenage boys don’t tattle on their friends, especially if they were doing something illegal.”

“And you think they were?”

He shrugged. “Logical reason for the lies. You want to grab some dinner before we interview the last kid?”

I looked at my watch and nodded. “We’ve got an hour or so before he’s home.”

“Time enough.”

There was something in the way he said those words that had my pulse skipping. “Time enough for what?”

He gave me one of those to-die-for smiles. “Time enough to eat. What else do you think I meant?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” I muttered, looking away from his knowing gaze.

He laughed softly. I continued to ignore him.

We grabbed a couple of burgers and some chips, and headed on down to the beach. Ethan parked, then grabbed a blanket from the back seat and climbed out. I followed with the food and drinks.

“So,” I said, once the blanket was spread over the sand and we were munching our burgers. “What sort of illegal activities do you think the boys were up to?”

He shrugged. “It could be anything, from peeking into bedroom windows to breaking into houses.

Whatever it is, they’ve obviously made a pact not to talk about it.”

“Boys are weird.”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement playing around his lips. “And girls aren’t?”

“It’s a well-known fact girls are the sensible species. You boys are just all hormones and need.”

“Meaning girls don’t need?”

“Meaning girls aren’t a prisoner to their needs.” And this was a conversation I should not be having.

Not with this man.

“Oh, really?” That gleam was back in his eyes, stronger, lustier, than before. “Want to bet on that, Ravioli?”

I finished my burger and brushed the crumbs from my hands. All the while avoiding his heated, steady gaze. “I told you before, I don’t bet.”

“And why is that? Afraid you’ll lose?”

My gaze rose to his. “Yes.”

He somehow seemed closer, though he hadn’t actually moved. Maybe it was merely a sharpening in my awareness of him. Maybe it was simply the erotic and sensual heat of him wrapping around me, cradling me like a lover.

“Afraid of me?” he asked softly.

“No,” I answered. “Afraid of me.” Afraid of wanting more than would ever be offered.

“Ah.”

If one single word could say many things, then that one word did. He understood what I meant. But as I stared into bright gaze, I realized understanding did not equate to backing away or backing down.

That it had, in fact, only hardened resolve.

“Don’t,” I said, my words a bare whisper quickly whisked away by the wind, “play with me.”

He rose on all fours and moved toward me. I watched him warily, knowing I should move and yet not wanting to. He straddled my legs and stared at me eye to eye.

“I have never played with you, Grace.”

The delicious scent of man and musk and spices swept around me, sending my hormones into another wild dance. He raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to retreat.

I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not this time.

“Only because I’ve never given you the chance.”

“Then you have one chance now.” He lowered his mouth toward mine, but didn’t quite kiss me, his breath a delicious whisper on my lips as he added, “Yes or no?”

For one second, the sane half of me raised a reminder that getting physically involved with this man was utter madness. That he was after a good time, not a long time, and I was the one who’d be left feeling awkward and uncomfortable long after the brief affair had ended. That he would go on just fine, pretending nothing had ever happened and that we could just be casual friends and sometimes partners.