Page 19 of The Huntress (The Blood of Legends #1)

Chapter Nineteen

ON DUTY

“W here the hell are you?” Syl said through Gabe’s cell phone.

He removed it from his ear to frown at it, wondering why he’d bothered to answer.

He returned it to his ear. “I’m out.”

“Doing what? Are you with Devereaux?” Anger permeated the connection. Syl’s voice had a lethal quality to it. An angry Syl was never good. He tended to act rashly and repent later—if he chose to.

“Keeping her alive.” Gabe stared at his woman moving from shadow to shadow with her gun drawn. He’d started the conversion and with their numerous sexual antics, she was well on her way to being his wife.

He’d taken her to her apartment this morning to dress for work. As far as he sensed, she had no idea he hovered, watching. Yet, after the first day in the interview room, he knew better. Callie could see him, even if she didn’t reveal her awareness by word or deed.

“She’s still a detective? Are you insane?” Syl hissed. “I need her off my ass. Convert her already. I don’t want to have to kill her if she gets close to the truth.”

Rage ripped through Gabe at his brother’s threat. The force of it snatched his breath, trembling his hands. If Syl was beside him, he would’ve gripped his throat and thrown him against a wall, brother or not.

“You will not touch her, Syl,” he ground, putting all his anger in his voice. Silence met him, followed by a deep sigh. Every muscle in his body clenched.

“I won’t harm her, brother, not when she’s soon to be my sister. Just talk to her, please.”

Gabe’s muscles slackened as relief filled him. “Why not try the truth? Knowing Callie, she’s imagining all sorts of horrors exist in that canister.”

“She implied it was Schrodinger’s cat, Gabriel.” Syl chuckled. “I like her, I do. I just can’t handle her curiosity. Please…”

Syl begging alarmed Gabe. His brother had invested in this, had placed all his hope on the chemical concoction within the canister.

“I’ll bring her to you. Tell her the truth,” Gabe said, seeing it as the only option that would calm both parties.

“Moon above! Fine, fine! But if she goes to the law with this…”

“Then I’ll kill you, and it won’t matter,” Gabe said, not liking his brother threatening the life of his woman. He sighed when the call ended with Leo’s laughter in the background.

Gunshots drew his attention, and his head whipped up as another body hit the ground. He wondered, and not for the first time, why he believed she needed protection. Against humans, she never missed, never hesitated. He respected her skill, her finely honed instincts that kept herself and Barrows alive, day after day.

Gabe sniffed the air. The only scents he discerned were from the dead bodies, Barrows’s strong cologne, and Callie…delicious Callie. He levitated down to her and looped his arm around her waist, surprising her from behind. She froze before melting into him. He loved that she did this—it made him tremble with need.

“You’ve killed them all or chased them away.” His words feathered her neck as he dragged his fangs along her pulse. “I sense no more heartbeats.”

“Damn it,” she mumbled, even as she arched her back, thrusting a breast into the palm of his hand.

“They did drop a container in their haste,” he said as he fondled her through her uniform.

He imagined lowering himself to bury his face between her thighs, tasting her as he pleased. She gasped at the sensation he projected.

“Did you just…?” Her voice broke on a throaty moan.

“I have many talents,” he mumbled, and she shivered in reaction to a psychic finger sliding into her. With trembling fingers and hasty movements, she holstered her gun before placing a hand on the brick wall.

“Hot damn.” Her words came between pants, and her nipple puckered in his palm.

He claimed her mouth then, as he mentally sucked on her nub again. The taste of her, along with her reaction to his bombardment, had his balls spasming with need. He hadn’t used psychic seduction on anyone in centuries. It’d been his preferred seduction, his enticement for feeders. The festivals and nightclubs had done away with the necessity to hunt.

With Callie, it was different.

It was more than her blood. He needed her explosive reactions, her orgasms, her breathless sighs. He swallowed her throaty moan as she splintered under his onslaught. Her need drenched her panties, and he inhaled the delicious, alluring scent of her.

“Make your jeans disappear,” she said, and he did, eager for whatever she planned.

The lustful expression that hooded her eyes had his erection bobbing. She dropped to her knees and the heat of her mouth wrapping around his arousal ripped a groan from his throat. He shrouded them so that no one—not even clueless Barrows loitering somewhere on the docks—could see or hear them.

Callie rubbing enticing circles on his balls grabbed his full attention as she blessed him with a drawn-out suck. He imagined burying himself in her heat, and at the same time projected it. Her breath stuttered, and she arched her back, giving him access as if he’d buried his physical erection in her.

“I’m going to…”

She released him to lick his balls, while she pumped his length. He roared his orgasm, the real and psychic sensations merging to blur his vision, his senses, his inhibitions. With a flick of his wrist, he vanished her police trousers. He spun her to face the brick wall, and he buried himself in her, thrusting his way to another orgasm, taking her with him, demanding she partake in their glorious union. She screamed his name, clenching around his length. She was the victor and he the conquered with the way she affected him and rattled his control.

He wanted to hold her in his arms, to convey how much she meant to him. Yet the time and place weren’t conducive to that.

After withdrawing his ever-present erection, he dressed them both before pinning her to the wall again for a kiss.

“You don’t like to swallow?” he asked into her parted mouth.

“I wouldn’t know.” She grinned, unrepentant. “What? You couldn’t wait for me to get home?”

“Home,” he whispered, awed at how much emotion that one word invoked within him. He stole another kiss from her. “I had no intention of having you here, against this wall, in this filthy place. Things got out of control,” he said before stepping away from her and lowering the shroud.

“What the hell?” Barrows growled in surprise.

Gabe nodded in greeting, acknowledging that their sudden appearance had startled the man. “Keeping her safe, even when she’s on duty.”

“I wasn’t in any danger,” Callie said in passing.

“My heart demands I protect you,” he said as he faded into the shadows, merging his form with the darkness. “I’ll collect you in two hours. She’s yours to guard until then, Barrows.”

Gabe levitated off, knowing he’d stunned her partner again with his ability to manipulate air. Flying was a standard vampire gift, one easy to master. She would learn to do so after her conversion. By now, she should be enjoying a few enhancements—sight, strength, scent, speed. Why hadn’t she mentioned them to him yet?

Hovering meters above her, he hesitated, unable to leave her, not until she was a full vamp. She endured Barrows’s chastisements with gracious ease. He loved that about her, the way she brought humor to every situation. Not that she couldn’t be serious when called for.

“Dispatch, we’ve got a few dead criminals. Want to send over the coroner?” She spoke into her smartwatch.

“Again, Devereaux?”

“Yup. These bastards have a death wish. They keep posing in front of my gun. What’s a girl to do?” She chuckled before rattling off the address.

“On duty?” Barrows muttered again as soon as she ended the call.

“Yup, the best ever. Hadn’t planned it though.”

“On duty,” her partner grumbled.

“When did you get so old, Mike? Rumor has it you’ve bent an officer or two over the water cooler.”

“Lies.” He grinned. “Under the circumstance, I have the right to complain. I didn’t see a thing.”

“There’s the problem, you old pervert.”

“It would’ve made for a good beer story.” Barrows shrugged. “I have to live through your sexual exploits, partner.”

“That’s an ew, and you know it.” She chuckled as she retrieved the discarded crate.

She carried it back to her police vehicle and stored it in the trunk, strapping it down for safety reasons, Gabe assumed. He couldn’t pick up ticking, but then again, bombs were more sophisticated now. A sniff revealed no chemical compounds inside.

“Why aren’t you chasing after Anna McCarthy in payroll? She’s been throwing you those come-get-it looks for ages.”

“Anna is a good woman. She deserves a better man than me.”

“That’s bullshit. Stop making excuses, Mike, go get the gal.”

“I’ve my hands full with your sassy ass,” he said as he squeezed into the driver’s seat.

“Still making excuses.” Callie climbed in on the passenger side.

They sat in the car in silence and waited for the coroner. As soon as the ambulance pulled up, she jumped out of the car and strode toward the driver. “I got two perps gunned down by my own hands, boys. They left a box behind. I’ll have the squad test it first before I send the contents to the lab. I doubt it’s an incendiary device the way the perps were shaking it.”

“Roger that, Devereaux.”

“Need me to stick around?” she asked the coroner as she leaped aside to let them scurry past her.

“Nope. Send your report over when you’re done. I’ll add my findings to yours. Oh, and Devereaux, no more shooting tonight. I have a breakfast date with the missus.”

“Roger that, Doc.”

Callie sauntered toward her car and sank into the front seat. She closed the door, and Barrows reversed. Gabe followed, hovering at a constant ten meters above their car.

“I wanted to tell you that while you were taking a leisure dip in the bay, I trailed the two beasts. It ain’t good, Callie.” Barrows raised his cell to ear level as a recording played.

“Did the smug bastard take the package?” A man’s gruff voice came from the recording.

“Yup, with no questions asked.” This man sounded younger, his tone submissive.

The gruff man barked out a manic laugh. “He doesn’t have a clue, does he?”

The question was rhetoric, but the younger man responded. “Not a clue. He thinks he’s powerful. That we can’t blindside or challenge him.”

Gabe frowned. What was the point of this conversation? Impatience had him tapping a rhythm on his thigh.

“I’m glad the fuckin’ mind reader wasn’t there with him. That might have thrown this plan for a loop.” Gruff-man chuckled.

Gabe tilted his head, focusing his hearing. Mind reader? That had to be Leo. The only person he spent any significant time with was Syl.

The younger man cleared his throat. “The bastard was all alone except for some crazed cop. She snatched the package.”

Silence lingered for a minute. Gabe froze as well, his breath hitching. Did he mean Callie? How many crazed female cops could there be?

“What?” the gruff man roared.

Shuffling and stomping accompanied his fury.

“Relax. We played our part as we promised the Phoenix. Besides, the vamp was furious with the woman, not us. He’ll get it from her. Y’know, I almost pity her.”

Gabe nodded. They were talking about the canister, Syl and Callie’s involvement.

“I want you to make sure he got it! Do you hear me?” The man paused, and Gabe assumed he waited for the younger man to nod. “Damn it. All this jeopardized by some bitch on the force. Those blood-crazed bastards need to start testing that chemical.”

“Shit!” Worry filled Callie’s voice. “Send me that please, Barrows.”

“You’re choosing sides,” Mike grumbled.

“I chose last night. You and pops raised me to be a woman of my word. It’s all I have left of him, Mike.”

“You’re forcing me to choose too,” he said.

Gabe’s phone vibrated with an incoming message. Heat exploded in his chest, snatching his breath at her name on the screen warning him. She’d chosen him. Again.

He sent the message to Leo and returned his focus to Callie, wishing she was in his arms.

“That’s your choice.” She wiped at her cheek before forcing a smile. “If you need a wingman, I can so do that for you, Mike.” She sounded determined to change the subject.

The silence thickened before Mike cleared his throat. “Are you implying I’m unable to secure my own date?”

“Crap, I must be getting rusty. Did I come across as implying?” At her aghast tone, Gabe chuckled.

“So damn sassy,” Barrows grumbled.

“You say that like you’re surprised. When haven’t I been sassy?” There was curiosity in her voice.

“Every time someone shot me.” His tone turned serious, as if this was something he’d kept from her—his true feelings surfaced over the events that had led to his injuries.

“You want me sassy under fire?” Shock pitched her voice. “I long for the days of old when we could deport your sorry ass.” She half-meant it, but her attempt at brevity fell flat.

“Huh? I’m good, old-fashioned American. Your Irish butt would be the first to go.”

She huffed. “This butt has saved your ass.”

“Who’s counting?” Barrows said, although, what he was trying to accomplish by pissing her off, Gabe didn’t know.

“I’m done talking about this.” She peered out the window, her chin raised in defiance. “Just park the damn car.”