In the Witching Hour Page 2

  "Kiana," Frazier stepped between them, walking her away from Adrian. He shook his head. "Heck of a way to spend your vacation. That’s okay for an old guy like me. But a young thing like you ought to be out having fun--"

  Before Frazier could finish the sentence his partner had sidestepped him and dashed half way down the slope toward the cabin cruiser without him.

  Wearing a pair of beat-up, skin-tight denims and a cropped T-shirt, she looked devastating. The heads of two uniformed cops swiveled as she flashed her badge and whisked by. One whistled then fell abruptly silent when Kiana bristled back at him. Rank garnered respect, even when the rank in question was a shapely brunette in tight blue jeans.

  She had passion. For her work, for life. He could feel that passion emanating from her as surely as he could feel the blood singing in her veins. Years before he would have found a way to partake of that blood, hell be damned. But that was before Melinda had intervened in his life, before his metamorphosis. Adrian yanked his thoughts back to the task at hand. The last thing he needed was for Frazier to catch his gaze wandering in Kiana's direction.

  Frazier bolted after Kiana. "What are you doing here?"

  Kiana stopped, one Keds-clad foot already on the ladder. "I was taking a ride along the bike path when I saw the lights. Figured it could only be another boat."

  Frazier sighed, apparently realizing the futility of arguing with her. Casting a warning glance at Adrian, he motioned to the boat.

  "After you." Kiana disappeared inside followed by Frazier. Adrian couldn’t help laughing as Frazier attempted to offer her a hand up. She ignored his offer of chivalry and climbed up herself.

  Adrian waited until they were both aboard, then swung a leg up on the ladder. And froze.

  The prickling itch that had tormented him on the trip down turned suddenly to a violent sting. Beneath the light coating of zinc he felt his skin flush, turn crimson. Pain intensified, hijacking his attention. Around him the world narrowed to a tunnel of agony. Acid ran through his veins. He sagged against the ladder and moaned.

  "Adrian?"

  Frazier's voice seemed to come from far away. He glanced up at him, unable to see beyond the red haze of pain.

  "Oh God!" Panic roused Frazier to action. He gripped him by the collar of his trench coat. "Adrian!"

  He tried to answer, found this tongue a swollen weight lodged in his mouth.

  "Adrian listen to me!" His tone was low, insistent. "You have to get inside."

  But it was the scent of his own flesh burning that finally got through to him.

  Terror wrenched him from the pain and confusion. He found the cool rung of the ladder beneath his hand and heaved himself up onto the deck.

  Dimly he registered Frazier snatching at the lapels of his coat, trying to drag him into the relative safety of the cabin. He floundered blindly in what he thought was the right direction, heard the detective’s harsh curses in puffs of hot air beside his ear.

  Sudden coolness enveloped him. He stumbled down the final step, lurched across the cabin until he slumped against the far hull.

  For several seconds he was aware of nothing beyond his own labored breaths and the slosh of water beneath his feet. He heard Kiana moving around in the front of the cabin, heard Frazier cursing under his breath.

  Pain subsided. His irritated skin cooled in the shadows of the cabin cruiser's interior. The smell of smoke dissipated. Adrian cracked an eyelid cautiously open.

  His body sang with pain. He sensed Kiana’s blood so very near. He wanted her, he realized. Wanted her blood and her body, as he had since the moment he’d first seen her. The pain and the trauma to his body made the need unbearable.

  Frazier's face loomed before him. "This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have asked you. I’m sorry."

  Adrian managed a hoarse whisper. "Just get rid of her, get rid of them all, I don’t care how you do it. Just get the humans away from me."

  He stood in the darkness for several minutes. The boat rocked gently. Water surrounded him on all sides. Cool, refreshing water. Had it been night, he would have cooled his skin and his ardor with a long swim in the harbor. So much for the myth about vampires and water, he thought in darkest humor. But it wasn’t night. The sun’s burning rays still pressed against the hull.

  But hidden in the cabin cruiser’s dim interior, the stinging subsided. He opened one eye and realized he could see again. Carefully, Adrian climbed to his feet. Like someone who'd just survived a bad fall, he ran an exploratory hand over his arms and face. Everything seemed in one piece. The boat rocked. Frazier returning.

  "It's all right. No harm done."

  Frazier ran a hand through his hair, mussing his red curls. "Except to my nerves."

  "I don't look burnt, do I?"

  He peered closely at him. "You look a heck of a lot better than you did a moment ago."

  "Good." He smiled sheepishly. "Guess my sunscreen concoction needs some refining."

  The boat rocked again. Kiana poked her head out of one of the doorways. "You coming to take a look at this, MacAdam?"

  "Yeah, be right there," he called over his shoulder.

  Her nose crinkled. She glared accusingly at Adrian. "You weren't smoking a cigarette, were you?"

  "I don't smoke," he said with his best deadpan expression and tried not to grunt when MacAdam elbowed him in the ribs. "Must have been one of the guys outside."

  They made their way along the narrow corridor to what had been the captain's quarters. Adrian lagged behind, clinging to the shadows of the cabin cruiser’s dim interior.

  It was difficult to walk across the slanted hull. And a foot of water inside didn't make the footing any easier. His trench coat was already busily soaking up the water and his pants were soaked up to the knees.

  "What's with the coat?" Kiana whispered to Frazier. Adrian’s keen hearing caught the whisper as clear as if she’d shouted.

  Behind them, Adrian faked a sneeze.

  "Think he’s caught one of those miserable summer colds," Frazier said.

  "Who is he?" she asked in feigned innocence.

  "Some specialist the Harbor Police recommended."

  Kiana’s eyes narrowed at the lie, but Frazier seemed intent on sticking to his story. Adrian shot Frazier a warning glance just in case. He’d trusted the detective with a very dangerous secret. Vampires had an unspoken code. They never revealed their existence to humans. But so far Frazier had kept his secret and become a friend. And Adrian’s life had been desperately lacking in friends for a long time.

  Adrian yanked his thoughts back to the present. The luxury cruiser had been a beautiful boat--had being the operative word. Someone had taken a definite dislike to the captain. He now floated face down in a pool of lake water. Adrian’s acute eyesight easily picked out the two wounds just above the jugular vein. Definitely the mark of a vampire. Or someone trying to make it look that way. The question was--why?

  "I think it’s what you suspected," Adrian told Frazier enigmatically. He turned the corpse’s head, so Kiana wouldn’t see the marks and start asking uncomfortable questions.

  Not only had the vampire left his calling card, he’d also made a haphazard attempt at redecorating. Maroon and gray upholstery had been slashed to ribbons with a knife that had to be at least of machete proportions.

  Entire seats had been torn away, the panels beneath ripped from their rivets and tossed in the rising water in the cabin. Frazier pulled back a soggy flap of torn upholstery and sighed in disgust. Adrian watched the corners of his friend's mouth tighten as he came to the same conclusion.

  "Pirates."

  * * * *

  Memory assaulted Adrian with the smell of unwashed human bodies, wet wood and sweat. Recollections as clear the events of yesterday dragged him centuries back in time. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the humid wind on his face, taste the salt in the air.

  His ship Opportunity cruised silently through still water. The slap of oars was the only sound to mark t
heir passage. They scouted the shoreline looking for a cove to anchor in until morning.

  A tendril of wind caught his loose shirt, billowing the voluminous sleeves like the sails above. Adrian threw back his head, letting the wind tangle his long blond hair. He hooked a thumb through the waistband of his breeches and leaned back against the wooden crates that covered most of the deck. This was his favorite place, poised on the prow of his ship. Beneath, holds bulged to capacity. He shifted a foot, booted to the knee in black leather and kicked at the rat that scurried across the deck before him. Not even the vermin could ruin his mood tonight. As a young man in his prime, he’d fallen in love with the promise of the Caribbean. He’d come to this sun soaked land to start a new life. He had plans to stake out the finest piece of property the island afforded and build a villa.

  But first there were deliveries to be made, transactions to be completed. The town to prowl. And the night was young. Tonight was a night for pleasure. Tomorrow he'd hire a guide and start looking for a level plot of land high on one of the cliffs that overlooked the ocean.

  A splash in the inky waters off the starboard side brought his head up sharply. His sword came free of its scabbard with a hiss of metal. Around him, his crew’s talk of drinking and womanizing ceased. Moonlight caught the dull gleam of swords.

  "There!" He pointed with the tip of his blade.

  The moon escaped a passing cloud, illuminating a boat skimming through the dark waters.

  Adrian pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for his men to keep down. "Let them board. Wait for my orders."

  Men dropped behind barrels and rigging.

  Moments later the deck swarmed with raiders. His men leapt up from their hiding places, scattering the invaders. Adrian threw himself into the fray.

  Within minutes the deck was slippery with blood. The invaders fought like fiends, easily overpowering Adrian’s men. Their leader was the fiercest of all.

  Toppling another opponent, Adrian maneuvered himself closer to this curious rival. From the thigh-high boots, to the handsomely cut coat, to the plumed hat, he was clothed entirely in black. Tall and lean, his face was fine-boned, almost delicate. But he was no newcomer to the sword. What that slight body lacked in bulk, he made up for in movement. Adrian was forced to use his superior agility to keep up.

  But in the end his curious opponent’s seemingly supernatural strength won out. Adrian found himself pinned against the cabin and fenced in by the many swords of his attacker’s men.

  Stalking away from him, the leader pulled off the black felt hat that obscured his features. Waves of flame red hair tumbled over slender shoulders. A gasp ran through his crew.

  Then Adrian realized what the well-cut black coat tried desperately to hide. The leader of the pirate band was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Adrian tipped his head back and howled with laugher.

  Turned out his mirth was short lived.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Earth to Adrian."

  Adrian looked up to find Kiana and Frazier waiting expectantly for an answer. Only he hadn't heard the question.

  He shook his head to clear it of the images that lingered in his memory. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

  Kiana kicked at the battered remains of a metal container. "Looks like he was running CFCs."

  "Chlorofluorocarbons?" Frazier asked.

  "Newest fad on the lake since they've been banned." Kiana studied the battered container. "CFCs all right. It's not illegal to use up existing stockpiles. Especially if you can get yourself access to such a stockpile for half price on the black market."

  "This guy had a little smuggling ring going, until someone decided he wanted a piece of his action," Frazier surmised.

  "Just like the captains of the other two boats." Kiana muttered. "What about the unfortunate occupant in the next cabin?"

  Frazier’s red eyebrows drew together in a glance that warned Adrian to stay silent about his suspicions. "He drowned," he said aloud.

  "In two feet of water?" Kiana asked, still poking around in the storage compartments and luckily not looking in the direction of the corpse.

  "I'd say he had a little help," Frazier said dryly.

  "Someone held his head under water." She paused in thought. "But why?"

  "So he wouldn't live to tell the tale," Frazier supplied.

  "What tale?"

  Frazier shrugged. "Obviously whoever cut in on his action wanted his identity kept secret."

  How things had changed, Adrian thought. In the old days, the reputation of a pirate was something to be carefully cultivated. The more terror you could summon, the more plundering you'd get away with.

  "Well," Frazier announced, intent on getting his partner out of there as quickly as possible. "I guess I'm not going to get the night off after all. I've got a hard evening's work ahead of me. Can I give you a ride home Kiana?"

  "No thanks. I’ve got my bike."

  "I wish you wouldn’t ride that thing after dark," Frazier muttered. "It’s not safe."

  "And I’m a big girl," she said patronizingly. " Not to mention a cop. If I see someone driving dangerously, I’ll give him a ticket."

  * * * *

  Humid air settled over the city in a blanket of fog. Kiana's perspective narrowed to the few feet in front of her still visible in the cotton batten air. Traffic sounds reached her oddly muffled. Car headlights made golden circles in the mist.

  Eerie. She couldn't shake the thought from her mind.

  Should have taken Frazier up on his offer of a ride. But she hated to be beholden to anyone, especially an older partner who insisted in treating her like a child.

  Frazier had lied to her. That thought settled uncomfortably in her mind. She couldn’t prove it, but every instinct told her the mysterious blond man in the trench coat was no Harbor Police piracy specialist. She would have bet her paycheck he was Frazier’s snitch. He hadn’t said so much as two words to her. He’d all but ignored her, addressing all his questions to Frazier and speaking only to Frazier. And yet, every time she turned her back, she felt the weight of those penetrating green eyes on her.

  For a snitch the man exuded sexuality, the way other men reeked of cologne. Still, she got the impression the effect was unintentional. He moved with the agile grace of a panther, every footstep deliberate. Beneath that trench coat she had caught a glimpse of broad shoulders and a muscular chest that tapered to slim hips. His had high cheekbones and full lips to die for. A picture of male perfection that belonged more on the cover of a magazine than hanging out in some back alley with Frazier.

  Though she’d spent the evening trying to get closer to him, Frazier had spent the evening standing between them. She hadn’t had a chance to ask him so much as his name, or what he did for the Harbor Police or how he became an expert in piracy. If Frazier thought that was the end of it, he was terribly wrong. Kiana Douglas didn’t give up so easily.

  Behind her came the muffled whisper of footsteps. Kiana quickened her pace. But the footsteps matched her stride easily. She reached for her gun.

  And found only T-shirt where her holster usually rested. She swung her leg over the seat of her bike, prepared to ride blindly into the fog if circumstances offered no other alternative.

  * * * *

  The woman was a fool to ride alone on the deserted bike path. Adrian shook his head. Frazier had forbidden him to speak to her. She’d refused Frazier’s offer of a lift, but after watching her ride off into the increasingly foggy evening, Adrian had decided to follow her home.

  Just in case she ran into trouble, he told his guilty conscience. After all, he’d promised Frazier repeatedly that he’d stay far away from his young partner. Right, his conscience scoffed. That woman is no sixteen-year-old high school kid. She’s a detective. She doesn’t need your help. According to Frazier, she was a damned good detective at that.

  If he allowed himself to be honest with his conscience, he’d have to admit he was attracted to the smart brunette with the startli
ng brown eyes. But then he’d have to admit he was following her home for reasons that had nothing to do with honor or a woman’s safety.

  From further down the bike path came the sound of footsteps muffled by the fog. There, he told his conscience. See my help is needed after all.

  With his superior night vision, he peered into the darkness. From out of the fog skulked two teenaged boys. Whether intent on snatching Kiana’s purse or hoping for a bit of forced romance, they stalked Kiana like lions stalking their prey.

  Ahead, Kiana stopped, listening intently to the night. He had no doubt she’d picked up the sound of footsteps as well. For a moment, she hesitated, then climbed on her bike, preparing to ride blindly into the fog.

  He longed to go to her, to tell her not to worry, but Frazier had forbidden him. And if he heeded his oh-so-righteous conscience, he had to admit that allowing a vampire into her life could hardly be considered a good thing for a hardworking detective. If he allowed himself to admit the truth, he had no business in any sane woman’s life. He ought to stay far away from her. He’d promised Frazier he would.

  So instead of calling out to warn her, he crouched behind one of the trees that lined the roadway and waited.

  The attackers crept closer, intent on the young woman on the bicycle up ahead. He waited until they were even with his tree, then he leapt from his hiding place, trench coat billowing behind him, fangs bared.

  One screamed. The other gasped. As one they turned and fled down the bike path, until they had disappeared from sight.

  Some days, Adrian thought with a broad smile, it’s good to be a vampire.

  * * * *

  Kiana hung her bike on the hooks inside her apartment and flung herself onto the bed in the corner. She’d wasted an entire day of her holiday and she still hadn’t got any closer to Frazier’s snitch. But now that she’d seen him up close, she had to admit, she didn’t know any more about him than before.

  The day’s exertions took their toll. Kiana lay back in the mound of pillows and closed her eyes. Just for a moment, she promised herself. Then she’d get up, have some tea, put her jeans in the wash and call it a night.