In the Witching Hour Read online

  Their supposed pirate ship was really a police craft that had been given a hasty coat of paint. The Bounty II was painted across the hull. Kiana hoped there wouldn't be a mutiny or worse.

  She glanced up at Frazier's snitch, the supposed Marine Unit specialist, code named Captain Black. In the moonlight he looked paler than usual. Instead of the black trench coat she'd seen him in the past few times they'd met, he wore a pair of well fitting black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. In spite of the hot summer weather, it was cool at night on the water. She wore a black windbreaker over her t-shirt, as much to ward off the chill as to conceal her service revolver. If Captain Black had a weapon, he hadn't mentioned it.

  All evening he'd politely ignored her, averting his eyes, speaking to her only when she'd initiated the conversation. Frazier's snitch sure didn't talk much. And he was the best looking underworld figure she'd ever met. Of one thing she was certain, he was no marine specialist, and no underworld snitch. But so far everything he'd told them about how this alleged piracy ring should work had turned out to be true.

  He leaned against the railing, nonchalantly staring out into the water, and waiting, every muscle coiled for a fight. He looked like he could handle himself in a tussle, which reassured her somewhat.

  Green eyes caught the moonlight. Set against his blond hair and pale skin he looked like a statue come to life. And yet he could stand so still, barely breathing, she feared he might actually turn into a statue for real.

  He had a body meant for temptation. No wonder she dreamt about him, she thought wryly. A woman could only stand so much. She'd dreamt about him just last night. The same erotic dream that had her waking in a mass of sweaty tangled blankets.

  He'd entered her bedroom as before through the window she'd been certain she'd locked. It must be wishful thinking that kept her forgetting to lock that window. She cast another glance at the gorgeous man standing only a few feet away, pointedly ignoring her. Well, tonight she'd make sure it was locked tighter than a safe.

  As if taking notice of her suddenly, Captain Black turned toward her. Emerald eyes glinted in the moonlight and for an instant she stood mesmerized. Whatever was happening between them he felt it too, because his full lips parted slightly. He took a step toward her.

  Kiss me. The suggestion leapt into her mind, squeezing out every ounce of her better sense. She clung to her professionalism, trying to rein in her desire. But her resolve dissipated like the quiet waves lapping at the shore.

  Though it was wildly out of character, she might have kissed him in that magical second if the sound of a motor hadn’t shattered the tension between them.

  As one they turned toward the source of the sound.

  Adrian shook his head to clear it of the image of Kiana’s luminous dark eyes. Her lips were parted, her heartbeat racing. He’d been about to kiss her. Another second and he might have done it, breaking all of his promises to his friend. Putting thoughts of Kiana’s tempting lips out of his mind, he prepared to deal with the newcomer.

  Their connection obviously knew these waters well because the boat raced toward them out of the darkness. The wake tossed their craft about in the water, throwing Kiana against the railing. Years of practice kept Adrian on his feet. He reached for Kiana, but she shook him off and nodded toward the oncoming boat. The moment between them had vanished, he thought with relief. At least he wouldn’t have to explain anything to Frazier.

  Abruptly, the oncoming craft killed its light. A second later its motor sputtered into silence. It drifted toward them on the dark water.

  Adrian reached for the flashlight lying on the captain’s console. He gave the signal: two long flashes, two short, and received the same in return.

  In the moonlight he could see the hard set of Kiana’s jaw. She stood waiting, her shoulders tense, ready for anything the situation might throw at them.

  "Let’s see it," said a voice out of the darkness.

  Kiana reached for the sample they’d prepared, a watertight package of counterfeit cigarettes and contraband liquor encased in a Styrofoam cooler. Carefully, she leaned over the side of the boat and deposited it into the water. With a pole, she pushed it toward the other craft. It bobbed in the water between them.

  For a moment Adrian was certain the pirate had become suspicious and that the evening would end in disaster. But then he reached out with his own pole and snagged the package.

  Pulling it up on the deck he examined the contents by flashlight. He opened the bottle of liquor and sampled it. A cloud drifted in front of the moon, stealing what little light they had.

  "Okay," said the pirate out of the gloom, finally. Gunning the motor, he maneuvered his boat closer.

  A sudden gust of wind pushed the clouds off to the south. The moon shone cold and bright giving Adrian a glimpse of the pirate’s face as he came along side them.

  "Gaston!" he breathed in sudden recognition. Veronique’s brother. Reflexively, he reached for Kiana.

  But in that instant Gaston recognized him as well. Adrian watched his expression change from calm determination to murderous rage.

  No! Adrian thought. This can’t be about me. He thought about the victims, the marks of a vampire so prominently displayed. Had the entire charade been a method of calling him out? It didn’t seem possible.

  Gaston’s motor roared to life. The sudden movement of the water shook their craft, throwing them off balance. The pirate circled around in a wide arc. There was no mistaking the pirate’s homicidal intent.

  Adrian raced for the police boat’s controls. "Hang on!" he yelled to Kiana.

  She already had her gun in her hand. "What’s going on?"

  "I know him." He turned the ignition. The police boat stuttered once then died. Adrian swore. He tried again. The ignition caught.

  But Gaston’s boat bore down on them faster than he could maneuver the boat out into the open water.

  It didn’t take Kiana long to recognize his intention. She fired off a shot. It went wide, burying itself in the hull.

  "Forget about the gun," Adrian ordered. "Just hold on."

  "Wait a minute," she yelled back at him. "I’m the police officer. I’m in charge here."

  "We don’t have time to argue," he hollered back, and gunned the engine.

  Too late. Already in motion, the pirate had the advantage. Impact threw them to the deck as the boat broad sided them. Adrian winced at the sound of wood and metal tearing. Their craft shuddered and dipped ominously on the port side.

  He scrambled toward Kiana who’d managed to get her feet under her. The pirate’s boat backed up. Braced against the railing, she fired. The bullet caught Gaston in the shoulder, but the boat kept coming.

  "What’s with that guy?" Kiana screamed. "I’m sure I hit him."

  "Forget it," Adrian said, trying to drag her away from her target. "We’re going to have to swim for it."

  She froze, looking up at him with terror in those huge dark eyes. "I can’t swim," she whispered.

  The pirate boat rammed them again. Their craft pitched dangerously to port again. For a moment Adrian prayed that it might right itself again. He heard the rush of water filling the breech in the cabin below. The boat tipped, starting its final slide into the water.

  Cold lake water rushed up over his head. He floundered for Kiana in the darkness. Weeds filled his hands. He heard the roar of a motor again and a final crash as the police boat shattered under the impact. Straining to see in the muddy water, he groped for the young detective. No, no, she couldn’t drown. He had promised Frazier he’d keep her safe. And if he allowed himself to face the truth, she’d worked her way into his heart in the past few days.

  He reached out and his fingers closed on something that felt like the nylon of her windbreaker. Something falling appallingly fast toward the bottom. Seizing the material in his fist, he kicked toward the surface.

  Adrian broke through the water’s surface. Being a vampire and difficult to kill, air wasn’t the grave concern it
was to Kiana. He held her head above the water.

  For a moment he worried she’d been under too long. In the moonlight, her lips were blue, her skin cold and clammy to the touch. "No," he whispered softly. History couldn’t be repeating itself. Fate couldn’t be that cruel. But karma owed him a great deal of cruelty, he thought darkly.

  "Kiana," he shook her gently, afraid to call her name too loudly and alert Gaston. He patted her back, and called her again.

  Suddenly, a geyser of water shot from her mouth. She coughed weakly, and spit up some more water. Still, her eyes remained closed and repeated calls failed to rouse her from unconsciousness. But at least she was breathing Adrian thought watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Now he just had to get her out of the water before she perished from hypothermia.

  He treaded water and tried to catch his bearings. He’d come ashore on the lake side of Hanlon’s point. On the far side of the narrow island boats often docked in the daytime to enjoy a picnic on the scenic island, but in the wee hours of the morning the picnic area was deserted. He crouched in the weeds near the shore and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

  The police radio had been lost along with the boat. He felt Kiana’s ribs, looking for her service revolver, but her holster was empty. Scanning the darkness with his acute eyesight, he couldn’t see any sign of Gaston’s boat. When their boat sank, the vampire pirate likely assumed they were dead. He listened into the silence. But the only sound came from a chorus of crickets and the persistent lapping of waves against the shore.

  Bending low, Adrian crept from the water. He kept Kiana cuddled against his chest. But he hadn’t fed recently and he had little body heat to share. He had to get her somewhere safe. And soon.

  He searched the quiet island. They ferry had long stopped running for the night, and with the radio gone, he had no way of contacting the police force or even Frazier. However, if he could reach the island airport on the tip of the island, he might be able to breech the narrow gap to the mainland with a quick swim that wouldn’t expose Kiana to the elements too long. She moaned quietly, and he pulled her closer still. Exposure to the chill water wouldn’t hurt him, but another chill was the last thing Kiana needed. Not after swallowing an unhealthy dose of lake water as well.

  Adrian glanced again at the north end of the island that housed the airport and sighed. He couldn’t figure out any other way of handling it. Another swim it was.

  He raced across the parkland, past the deserted ferry docks, the silent patio restaurants and the utility sheds. Running with the speed of the wind, he made it to the quiet runway. Once he’d left the shelter of the trees, he’d felt exposed. Racing across the runway, he was the highest thing on the tarmac, except for the dark control tower.

  But nothing stirred on the island side. From the nearby city he could hear the bustle that never ceased, not even in the wee hours of the night. He glanced at the sky. Only a couple of hours to dawn. He couldn’t risk being detained beyond the lightening of the sky. And now there were questions to answer. Question that involved him.

  He’d get across the bay, and somewhere safe where he could care for Kiana and wait out the daylight hours. As a detective, she’d know what to do. And it would give him time to think.

  Adrian slipped into the chilly water. Holding Kiana tight against him, her head safely above water, he swam awkwardly toward the shore.

  Nothing stirred when he climbed out of water on the city side of the bay. Standing on the boardwalk, he glanced each way to make sure he wasn’t being observed. Then, cuddling Kiana protectively against him, he tore off into the downtown core.

  He owned a loft in an old factory in a disreputable area of town. Rough stone walls and wooden floors gave it vaguely rustic look. The exposed wooden rafters reminded him of country barn. Hardly the place to take a woman, he thought shutting the door with his hip and dripping water across the floor on his way to the four poster bed that stood in the middle of the room. He was a minimalist type of guy, he told himself, looking at the sparse décor. Perhaps a bit too minimalist. He owned a barebones loft, a bed, and a stereo.

  Taking Kiana to her own apartment might have been a better idea, but his place was closer. Still, it was dangerous to have her here, he thought laying her reverently on the bed. She was shivering now, deep shivers that wracked her body. He had to get her out of those wet clothes.

  Torture, he thought as he stripped off her nylon jacket and eased the sodden t-shirt over her head. He stripped off her socks, running shoes and jeans as well. Beneath it all she wore lacy black underwear. He never would have imagined her wearing something so seductive. It clashed with her no-nonsense personally. The black lace contrasted with her skin, making her look all the more pale. Hooking his thumb behind the clasp of her bra, he expertly undid it, and tried not to look at the rosy peaks of her breasts as they sprang free. He reached down and removed her panties as well and covered her with a thick satin quilt.

  As an afterthought, he piled on every other blanket he owned, and looked around for something that might put some warmth back into her body. His kitchen was comprised of a dusty kettle and an underused microwave. He’d really just bought them to keep up the pretense of being human. But once in a while Frazier came over, so he’d begun stocking his cupboards with instant coffee and tea. The only other food in the cupboard was a half-empty bottle of Scotch.

  Just in case, he boiled some water for tea. If he could rouse Kiana, maybe it would help. Once the tea steeped he added a healthy dose of Scotch and came back to keep a vigil by her bedside.

  Her shivers had subsided and she slept fitfully, but her breathing was deep and regular. For a moment, he simply studied her. He had no business taking her here. No business noticing how cute her upturned nose looked, or how dark her eyelashes were against her pale skin. He shouldn't be fantasizing about how right her soft lips would feel against his, or how he'd like to explore every inch of her. Her pulse beat strongly in her throat. He felt the sharp impression of his incisors biting into his bottom lip. Adrian pulled his thoughts away. Putting the Scotch-laced tea down on the bedside table, Adrian knelt beside her.

  "Kiana," he called softly.

  She murmured something in her sleep, and turned over, burying her face in his pillows.

  "Kiana," he said again, this time more forcefully.

  Her dark eyes flashed open. Instantly her hand went searching for her missing gun. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she realized that not only was the gun missing, but so was the holster and all her clothes. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she whirled toward him.

  The momentum set her off balance. He reached out to stop her from tumbling head first from the bed.

  "Kiana, it's okay." He tried to sound sincere and harmless.

  "Captain Black," she said, her eyes wary.

  He sighed. "It's Adrian, actually."

  "So you do have a name," she said, even more wary.

  She looked around his barren apartment, studying the gray stone walls and rough wooden floors. "Where am I?"

  "My home," he said. "Such as it is."

  "How did I get here? How did I get...."

  "Naked?" he supplied. She nodded. He watched her gaze flicker around the room looking for anything that could be used as a weapon against him.

  "The boat sank," he told her. "You nearly drowned. Your clothes were soaked and you were freezing."

  Memories seemed to sink in slowly. He watched as she measured the events from her fractured memory against his version of the events.

  "I was trying to get you warmed up." He nodded to the tea on the bedside table. "There's tea. It has Scotch in it, but I can make you some without if you'd rather."

  Keeping the blanket clasped around her chest, she reached for the tea and sniffed it. "I wouldn't have taken you for a Scotch drinking man," she remarked.

  "Normally, I don't drink ... Scotch," he said with a wry grin. "I bought it for Frazier."

  At the mention of Frazier
's name she seemed to relax a little. "Really," Adrian said holding up his hands in surrender. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

  "And what am I supposed to do if you break your promise?" she asked.

  "I won't," he said with finality.

  But she was still staring off into space, trying to remember what had happened out on the water by the islands. "That pirate," she said after a moment. "He knew you."

  Adrian nodded. "I won't lie to you, Kiana. I have a less than stellar past."

  "Are you trying to tell me you're a criminal?"

  "Suffice to say I'm no one you'd want to take home to mother."

  "I'll take that as a yes."

  This was a mistake, Adrian thought. When he found out, Frazier would have a fit.

  "And you know Frazier how?" Kiana asked. The innocent woman who had been lying in his bed had vanished, the detective in her had taken over.

  "I rescued him from being beaten to a pulp by a gang of thugs," he said. "If you want to know more you'll have to ask Frazier about it, but I'm warning you, he rarely talks about it."

  "That time he was nearly killed five years ago?" she began. "You saved him?"

  He nodded. Obviously Frazier had omitted a few pertinent details from the story. Namely that he’d been saved by a vampire.

  She studied him for a long moment. Then she reached to take a drink of tea and the sheet slipped a little lower, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts.

  Her indignant response was an act. He could tell by the heady scent of her pheromones that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. But she had no way of knowing what she was getting into, he realized. Her blood sang to him, tempting him with each beat of her heart.

  Adrian averted his gaze and stood up. He didn’t want her to think he was some lecher taking advantage of the situation, and he didn’t want to be tempted. It made him crave things he had no right to want. "Let me find you something to wear."