Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

Ian’s body jerked, and he slumped against Alice. Her arms strained against his weight. “Ian! Keep moving. We have to get to the car. Come on. You can make it.”

More rounds bit through the flimsy fencing. The shooters were getting closer. They’d hit him already, and she didn’t think he could take another. Her throat constricted. He could barely stand, and she wasn’t strong enough to get him to safety. A naked jaywalker wouldn’t be this exposed. Ian’s eyelids fluttered and he blinked. With a groan, he lifted her against him until her toes left the ground.

“Hang on to me. Close your eyes and keep them closed. Hold your breath. Don’t stop holding it for anything until I say.”

“What are you—”

“Do it!” he roared. Cringing, she followed his command. A second later, they flew through the middle of a hurricane as Ian flashed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. They moved so fast, the force of the wind threatened to tear her from his arms. Her hair whipped around her head, and she had to remind herself to keep her eyes shut.

For a few moments, she had the same rush she got from skydiving, but then her lungs began to burn. She dug her fingers into Ian’s shoulders, fighting to keep her breath right where it was. A sense of suffocation overwhelmed her. The pressure in her ears aimed to explode right along with her lungs. As if feeling her growing distress, Ian’s hold tightened. Then his mouth was on hers, taking her breath and feeding her a new one through her parted lips.

Mint. He tasted like mint and… Was that blood? He’d been hit, but was it that bad? Her hands fisted in his shirt. This ride had to end now. He could be bleeding to death, and she was too worried to enjoy the feel of his mouth on hers. Fighting the pressure of the wind, she pulled hard at his shoulders, and finally the vortex slowed.

Ian collapsed to the ground, drawing her on top of him. When she sat up, her thighs astride his hips, he arched in pain, his face tight with it. Blood soaked the front of his shirt—and hers.

“Ian, where’d they get you?” She tugged his shirt up. Two small holes, more like cuts, pierced through, one near his belly button and the other closer to his spleen. Nasty dark bruising spotted his lower abdomen where his internal bleeding showed. “Oh God, we have to get you to a hospital.”

Her cell phone was tucked in her purse back at the car, but his was still clipped to his belt. When she reached for it, he grabbed her wrist.

“No,” he groaned. His eyes opened, the red of his irises faded to nearly black. “I don’t have that kind of time.”

She didn’t want to acknowledge that, but his face was bleached white. He’d lost so much blood. “You can’t die, Ian.”

“Sorry, Alice. This is my fault.” His hand tightened on her arm. “Even though I told you to stay in the car.” He snickered, but it died with a weak, bloody cough.

“What can I do?” She pressed his shirt against the worst of the bleeding, but it seeped out at an alarming rate.

“Find me a donor. Anyone around?”

She inspected their impromptu destination. They’d ended up in an industrial area, full of little-used warehouses and empty office buildings. Plenty of refuse drifting the street, but no pedestrian traffic whatsoever. A prostitute or even a drug dealer would be welcome at that point.

“No one.” She never thought he’d be the kind to give in, but defeat settled over him, and she couldn’t bear to see it. Regardless of getting them into this situation, he needed help only she could offer, and it wouldn’t kill her to donate for him. “But I’m here, and I have blood.”

He tensed, his eyes narrowing, but she cut him off before he could decline.

“You have no options, and I have no hepatitis. Would it be that bad?”

“It’d be too good.” His eyes flared for the briefest moment. “Ever donated to a vampire before?”

“No, now shut up. You’re bleeding to death, if you haven’t noticed, you Irish hick.”

“Frustrating wench.” He jerked her flat on top of him, his hungry eyes never leaving hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, her heart pummeling against her rib cage. What’d she get herself into? A second later, he ducked his head toward her throat. A pinch, and then his fangs pierced her flesh.

A hoarse scream escaped her lips. Lust hit her with a beastly ferocity, clawing at her like a wild animal. Her body caught fire as she ground against his hard shaft, but it wasn’t enough to quench. She was pure, raw sex driven insane by the heat of him between her legs. Hellish in its intensity, the pounding need magnifying by the second. God, she’d fly apart.

“Please, Ian, please!” She had no idea what she begged for, but he did. As he drew in life at her throat, he reached under the lifted hem of her skirt and stroked between her legs. Long, sexy fingers hit all the right spots, delving into her cleft with only the thin, wet silk of her panties in between. His firm touch teased and then swirled around her hot button, his thumb deftly flicking her toward an implosion. Reality-defying pleasure drove desperate sounds around her panting breath.

“Omigodomigodomigod!”

When he withdrew his fangs, the ecstasy crested in a stunning orgasm. The world stopped. Her muscles tightened. And then it faded in throbbing ebbs of sensation. With a soft whimper, she melted on top of him. His tongue traced slowly over the bite with the curative serum to seal her wounds, and his palm rested lightly against the front of her panties. She was far too boneless to wiggle away. Several minutes passed before her breath returned to a respectable rhythm and her mind kicked in with the repercussions.

Had she known the life-changing effects of a vampire bite, she might have tried harder for another option. She had to face this man to solve a murder case, but after what they just did, how could she work with him? There was no other choice, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed as hell. At least she had another minute to prepare before meeting his eyes. His chest still heaved, his heart thundering under her cheek. He lazily traced her spine, his touch comforting. Good to know he was affected by the experience and this wasn’t all one-sided.

Trying to drum up some indignation was a complete failure. If he hadn’t taken her in hand, she would’ve used her own or whipped out that rod he had stowed away in his jeans.
Oh, wow.
That memory would last a lifetime. He was packing and then some. Which did nothing to help her current predicament.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I should be asking you that,” she mumbled against his chest. His answering laugh rocked beneath her.

“I will be soon. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be fit as a butcher’s dog.” His deep groan made her tingle all the way to her toes. “I’ve completely humiliated myself. Don’t know if I’ll get over that.”

She lifted her head before she could develop a second thought. “What do you mean?”

“Never you mind.” He grinned at her, the color coming back into his face. “I think we can call for some assistance now. Since, you know, you left my car all alone.”

“Don’t look at me, Agatha Christie.”

“Are you calling me a snoop or old and wrinkly?”

Instead of answering, she pushed off his chest. It made him wince, but she tried not to care. Something about the way he avoided responsibility grated on her. He seemed to sense her shift in mood.

“I’m a Tracker. It’s what we do.”

Yeah, like she hadn’t expected that response. Why couldn’t he just own what he did?

“You mean whatever you want?” she asked. “We’re supposed to stop criminals, not become them.”

“You think the killer’s going to cooperate and fall into our laps?”

“Why are you so sure they were the killers?”

“You did see them shooting at us, didn’t you?”

She half wished they were still shooting at him. “We were trespassing on private property. They had no idea who we were.”

He glowered. “They’re vampires, Alice. Of course they knew who we were.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.” She glared right back at him. “Either way, we weren’t legally authorized to be there.”

“And they were authorized to shoot at us? In the middle of Capitol Hill?”

“If we hadn’t been there, they wouldn’t have—” She blew out a breath. “Never mind. Let’s just get out of here. I’ve had more than enough of you tonight.”

“You sure have.” His delicious mouth turned up at the corners as he sat up, carefully holding his stomach.
Amazing
. The man never stayed upset, and he could probably draw a smile from a corpse. Catching the mischievous sparkle in his eye and his devilish grin, her reasons to keep her distance simply fizzled, like a short circuit straight to ground. Grabbing his cell, he called someone to pick them up. His abs tensed and rippled as he talked, and she just couldn’t watch anymore. Before she turned her back on him, she noticed the dampness at the waistband of his faded jeans.

So that’s the humiliation
.

He really had been affected by her
donation
. She laughed.

“What the hell now, oh bipolar one?”

“Nothing.” She tilted her chin toward his jeans before turning away again.

A moment of silence prevailed.

“Don’t judge. I promise it’s never happened to me.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she murmured. He laughed and then the phone chirped. His deep voice rumbled in the background a minute before he clicked the cell back onto his belt.

“Declan’s right around the corner. Lucky for us, he was in the neighborhood.”

“Lucky for you.” She glanced up at the sky. “Daylight’s coming.”

He ignored her jibe. “Alice.” She ignored him in return, but he leaned around her to make eye contact and gently tipped her chin up. “I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you back to your office instead of dragging you into this. Even with you in the car, I put you in danger. And I know you weren’t expecting…what happened, but thank you. You saved my life.”

It stunned her, the emotion in his voice.
He actually apologized
. “I’ll…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll remind you of that every step of the way.”

Slipping his hand through her hair, he pulled a lock forward and coiled it around his fingers, the incidental brush of them against her skin raising goose bumps.

Clearing her throat had done nothing to keep the rasp from her voice. “I’m craving a cigarette for some reason.”

Laughing, he tucked her hair behind her ear.

And like that, she’d brushed away their
moment
. Wow. What a
moment
. Had she ever had one of those with anyone before? For a minute there, she would have done anything to have what he was packing in his jeans inside of her along with those fangs. What would that be like? God, she couldn’t think about it. It was heating her panties all over again.

She’d acted like a two-dollar hooker with a high roller. But the shame wouldn’t stick. He’d needed her in order to survive. Anyway, he probably did this with all the girls, only more. The thought made her squirm, and not in a good way. It was easier to focus on her fury with him, which, after his apology, she had to dig around to find.

“We could have been killed, Ian.” Her fists clenched against the tremors invading her, but this time it wasn’t anger flooding her system.

His hands covered hers. “They weren’t trying to kill us.”

“Are you kidding? Guns, fangs, shots fired. You said they were the killers. You do remember this, right?” She twisted to face him squarely, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Ian, you would have died.”

“They missed you entirely, only hit me twice, and never caught up to us. Think about it, Alice. Kenji and Ander can flash. And you really think they’d hire security personnel who couldn’t hit a peanut at five hundred yards? They were driving us away from the evidence, and they didn’t expect me to dodge in front of their warning shots to protect you.”

In that light, it did seem kind of strange they weren’t in the gutter choking on death in a pool of their own blood. She had no chance to respond before a dark Escalade pulled up to the curb, and Ian pulled her to her feet.

“A bit cliché, isn’t it?” she asked.

“You’re going to look up the bull’s arse, are ya?” He winked at her. “Just get in the damn car, Alice. It’s a ride.”

When he opened the front passenger door for her, she went warm and fuzzy inside. Charmer. Freaking infuriating, stubborn, obnoxious, but still a charmer. She clambered in but then had second thoughts about riding up front next to Declan. His expression was as dark as his hair and his lean, chiseled features seemed cut from granite. Only a man like him could pull off the perfectly tailored pink dress shirt and keep his alpha-male card. Cold and impeccable. Not much of a change since she’d last seen him.

“You want to go home, Alice?” Ian asked.

“Can’t. My car’s at the office, and I need my purse.”

“VLO then, and we’ll get your things to you.” Ian leaned forward between the front seats. Resisting the urge to check his seat belt became a struggle. “Thanks for coming, Dec. You remember Alice?” He elbowed his friend’s shoulder before the man could answer. “What’s eating at you? Not that you aren’t always in a snit, but what gives?”

Declan grunted. “Name it. Slavers have gone underground. Rogues have gone underground. It’s too damn quiet.”

“Slavers?” she asked. “Val mentioned it before, but she didn’t really go into detail.”

Ian patted her shoulder. “Nothing to worry over. Tracker business and all.” An impulse to bite his hand hit her. He must’ve read the intent on her face because he slowly withdrew it and raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, I caught a pair of rogues last night. Maybe you’re slowing down in your old age.”

Dec snorted. “I’m younger than you, dust bag.”

“Well, seeing as you’re not properly occupied, I’ve got a murder case to go over with you, if you’re willing.”

With Declan’s abrupt nod, Ian told him all the basic details of the case, tactfully leaving out the specifics of her donation. When his friend sent him a long, weighted stare in the rearview, Alice’s hair stood up along her nape. What was she missing that they weren’t sharing with her?

“Now that sounds—”