Dracul's Revenge 01: Dracul's Blood (5 page)

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As it turned out, catching his bus hadn’t been a problem. It was getting off at the right stop that had caused him trouble. Nik had been so deep into the book he was reading, he rode almost nine blocks out of the way before realising he’d screwed up.

Instead of catching a bus back to his regular stop, he chose to walk. He had a lot of things to think about, the hunky detective being one of them. Why hadn’t he just asked the guy out?

Nik had never tried to hide his sexuality. He’d been told on more than one occasion he set off anyone and everyone’s gaydar the moment he opened his mouth. It was something that had never bothered him. He was who he was.

There was no doubt in Nik’s mind the detective was gay, or at least bi, because he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable around Nik the way most straight men were. He hadn’t caught Bobby giving him any looks of lust, but he hadn’t received any sneers of disgust, either.

He was almost home before he realised the books in his arms were starting to get heavy. He went to put them into his backpack and stopped in his tracks.
Damn.
Where had he left his pack? A picture of it sitting on the floor in the reference section of the library came to mind.

Nik started to pull out his phone to call the library and again cursed himself. It was in his pack along with his house keys and the papers he needed to grade. As he stood on the corner, two blocks from his apartment, he was sorely tempted to hail a cab.

With a shake of his head, he headed towards the bus stop. No sense in wasting money. He accepted the fact it would take him another two hours at least to get home and enjoy his evening. What else could he do? It was his own fault and he knew it.

As he neared the stop, he saw the bus coming around the corner. With the library DRACUL’S BLOOD

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books held tightly against his chest, Nik ran as fast as he could to catch it. With a swipe of his pass, he climbed aboard and looked around for an available seat. He groaned when he realised the bus was full.
Serves me right.

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Drawing in a deep breath, Bobby raised his hand and knocked on the lieutenant’s door. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to his request, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Come in.”

He pushed open the door and stepped in, stopping in front of her desk. She eyed him while whoever was on the other end of the phone talked to her.

“I understand, Mayor, but you have to give my men more than a day to figure out the motive. I put my best detectives on it, and I trust that they’ll solve it quickly.” She pinned Bobby with a glare when he coughed to cover up his snicker. “Yes, sir, I’ll call you as soon as I have any information.”

Bobby reminded himself he was an adult man and shouldn’t run like a scared girl when the lieutenant set the receiver back in its cradle gently. Her knuckles went white where she gripped her pen.

“Tell me you have some news, and preferably it’s good.”

Rocking back on his heels, he shrugged. “I’m not sure how good it is, but that professor I talked to yesterday tells me the bottle found at the main crime scene is old.”

“Old? I could have told you that.” She snorted. “How old?”

“Like fifteenth century old. The professor says it was probably custom made, because the wine makers used larger versions of the cask.” He pulled out his notebook where he’d jotted down all the things he could remember Nik saying and flipped through the pages. “It is from Romania, or whatever they called Romania back then. He thinks there’s something under the seal on the bottle, some words that we wouldn’t be able to read, but he could. At least that’s what he says.”

“Thanks for the report. Is there something else you want?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d like you to sign off on letting the professor look at the bottle.”

The lieutenant’s narrow-eyed gaze made Bobby want to check if his fly was open.

Standing in front of her was worse than dealing with the nuns at Catholic school. Bobby had spent a lot of time in the Mother Superior’s office when he was younger.

“Why would I want to do that?”

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“Like I said, Professor Radin believes there’s something under the seal. He’s handled objects like this bottle before and says he knows what he’s doing. I guess the bottle should be in a museum and if he can find out what’s under the seal without destroying the bottle, why not let him do it?”

She tapped the end of her pen against the desk while she thought about it. Bobby kept his mouth shut. No sense in pushing her. Whatever she decided, he would have to go along with. He might bend the rules a little, but he wouldn’t go behind his lieutenant’s back and risk losing his job or making her mad at him.

“Fine. He can come and look at the bottle, but it can’t leave the lab, so make sure Wilmont is aware of the professor’s visit.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Bobby left her office before she could change her mind.

After returning to his desk, he picked up the phone and called the lab.

“Yes?”

“Wilmont, don’t you ever go home?” He chuckled at the crude sound the head of the crime lab made. “I know all about it, man. I was hoping to get out to Belmont today for some of the races. Instead, I’m stuck at my desk because of this case.”

“You shouldn’t be betting on horses anyway, Marks. Not a healthy addiction.”

Wilmont sounded tired.

“Is there any such thing as a healthy addiction?” He hurried on before Wilmont could respond. “Can you set up a room for me down in the lab?”

“Why? When did you get your degree in forensics?” Suspicion coloured Wilmont’s words.

“I have an expert coming in to look at the clay bottle we found at the main Thompson crime scene. He wants to see the bottle up close and personal. I can’t take it out of the lab, so I’m bringing him to it.” He shuffled some papers around, trying to find Nik’s phone number.

“He knows what he’s doing?”

“I don’t know. He says he’s handled items like this before and knows how to be careful. I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Professor Radin is the only expert I could find and the lieutenant’s getting a lot of pressure to close this case quickly. I’d like to take advantage of the professor while I have his interest.”

An image of Nik popped into Bobby’s head, and his cock made the rather coarse observation that it would love to take advantage of the pretty professor. He pushed that DRACUL’S BLOOD

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thought to the back of his mind. First things first, he had to get the case closed, then maybe he’d look into convincing Nik to go on a date with him.

Oh, he didn’t need gaydar or anything like that to know the professor played on his side of the fence, though maybe he did have that mythical radar because Bobby rarely was attracted to straight men. From the moment he first saw Nik, he wanted to ask the guy out.

All that unruly dark hair and those dark green eyes hidden by the wire-rimmed glasses had thrown Bobby for a second when he’d entered Nik’s office. He’d thought he’d walked into the wrong place and Nik was a student. Of course, Nik didn’t dress like any professor Bobby had met before either. Rumpled khakis, untucked dress shirt, and running shoes seemed more the uniform of the college kids than a professor.

“Hey, Marks, you still there?”

Blinking, he realised he’d zoned out while Wilmont was talking. “Yeah. I’m still here.

Sorry, got thinking about something.”

“I said bring him by. I’ll set you up a spot where he can examine the bottle. The lieutenant signed off on it, didn’t she?”

Bobby laughed silently. Hell, even the tech guys were afraid of her. “Yes, she did. I wouldn’t have asked if she hadn’t.”

“Good. I’ll leave a note, letting my assistant know you’re coming. I’m heading home to watch some football and hang out with my kids for a while.”

“Have fun, and thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I want this solved as soon as you do. One less case on my plate would make me fucking thrilled.”

He hung up after the dial tone told him Wilmont had ended the conversation. Nik’s number jumped off the folder he’d written it on, and Bobby dialled it from his cell phone as he left the homicide unit.

“Hello?”

The soft voice answering the phone tripped over Bobby’s body and goose bumps rose on his skin. What the hell was that? He’d never had that kind of reaction to anyone’s voice before.

“Hello?” A slight quiver entered the voice.

“Oh, sorry about that. I got distracted, Professor Radin. This is Detective Bobby Marks. We talked yesterday.”

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A hitch in the breathing coming over the phone and Bobby’s thoughts went in a direction they shouldn’t have. What would Nik sound like while Bobby made love to him?

“I remember you, Detective Marks. How may I help you?”

“You got lucky, Nik.”

Nik coughed. “What?”

Bobby pushed open the door to the car pool area and chuckled. “I said you got lucky.

My lieutenant gave her permission to have you look at the bottle.”

“Cask.”

“Huh?” He tugged his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the sedan the department assigned him when he was on duty.

“It’s not a bottle. It’s a cask.”

Sliding behind the wheel, he thought for a moment. “Oh right. Not a bottle, a cask. I’ll try to remember that.”

“When can I look at it?” The eagerness in Nik’s voice brought a smile to Bobby’s face.

“I’m in the car. If you give me directions to your place, and are free, I’ll come get you right now.”

A silent pause, like Nik had to think about it, filled the air.

“If you don’t have time today, I can come on Monday and bring you back to the lab.”

“No!” Nik’s strident protest surprised Bobby. “I’ll be ready. I’m not doing anything except grading papers anyway. Do you have a pen for the directions? I live all the way in Chelsea.”

“Better than a pen, Professor. I have a GPS. Just give me your address, and I’ll find my way to your place.”

Bobby didn’t like a lot of technology, but even he admitted that having a GPS made driving easier.

“Okay.” Nik rattled off his address while Bobby typed it into the device.

“Says I’ll be there in forty minutes. That give you enough time to get ready?” Bobby started the car.

“Forty minutes is fine. I’ll bring some books that I think might help.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered, checking over his shoulder before he pulled out of his parking spot.

“What do you mean by that?” There was an edge to Nik’s voice now.

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“Nothing bad. You just strike me as a guy who has a book for every occasion, you know. That’s not a bad thing though. It’s helpful to a guy like me who had to get punished by nuns before he cracked a book.”

Bobby slid into New York traffic without a problem. He hated the bland uniformity of the department cars. The sedans were plain beige, with only the police modifications done to them to make them exciting.

“Nuns?”

Not much of a conversationalist.
Bobby didn’t have a problem talking to anyone, which made him a good cop.

“Yeah. I went to Catholic school until my senior year, then my parents moved from Queens to Long Island. Ended up at a public school for my last year. I couldn’t wait to graduate. Didn’t have a clue what I was going to do, though I figured I’d end up on the police force like my old man.”

Rustling came over the phone and Bobby wondered if Nik was getting dressed.
Damn.

He really needed to keep his mind out of the gutter, at least until the case was over, or he’d never get anything done.

“Your father was a policeman?”

He grinned at the thought of his pop. “A thirty year veteran of the force. Seen some nasty shit happen, but never let it get to him.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It is good, considering a lot of cops let the job eat them alive. They become drunks or druggies. Depression’s a big job risk, along with divorce.”

Bobby turned at the corner the GPS told him and continued down the street.

Reluctance to end the call hampered him, but he knew he needed to let Nik get ready.

“Hey, I’m hitting some traffic, and I should let you go get your stuff together.”

“Stuff? Oh, right, my books. I’ll see you in a little while, Bobby.”

“See ya, Nik.”

After snapping his phone shut, he tossed it on the seat next to him and had a discussion with himself as he drove.

“You know you shouldn’t be thinking about the professor that way. He’s helping you out with a case and until it’s solved, you can’t cross that line.”

He pursed his lips. Really, that rule applied to witnesses and suspects in cases. It was DRACUL’S BLOOD

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possible it didn’t apply to experts called in to help with said cases.

Why couldn’t Nik be some stodgy old tweed-wearing professor instead of the gorgeous bookworm he was? The man was probably older than he looked, but those glasses and clothes lent him an air of innocence that flipped all of Bobby’s switches. Hell, who knew he went for innocent?

Bobby admitted to himself he liked young and pretty. That flavour was the kind he brought home from the bars when he went looking for a quick lay. Innocence, not so much.

Being a cop jaded a man, and people who didn’t understand the seamier side of life tended to bore Bobby fast.

Nikolay Radin projected an air of naivety and purity that usually turned Bobby off, yet there was something else about the professor teasing Bobby’s interest.

“This isn’t the time to think about it, Bobby, old man,” he muttered. “You have a case to close and eight other murder cases you have to work on. A gorgeous college professor is totally beyond you anyway.”

He wasn’t the kind of guy who worried things to death, so he pushed his thoughts away. Live and let live was his motto. If something was supposed to happen between him and Nik, he’d let it. If not, then he’d treat Nik like every other expert he’d worked with in the past.