Tempted in the Night (13 page)

They continued to dance in silence for several minutes, and she felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. It made her all the more furious with him. He was just baiting her, trying to get her riled up, and damn it, it was working. It was her own bad luck that she actually found him attractive. Otherwise, she could have brushed off his suggestions like lint from a cheap suit.

She reined in her emotions by focusing on their dancing. She was surprised at how well the detective moved about the floor. "Where did you learn how to dance?" she asked, unable to stop herself. "Is ballroom dancing a hobby of yours?" She had trouble meshing the rough cop image with this
GQ
Fred
Astaire
.

"No," he said, sounding insulted. "Ballroom dancing is
not
a hobby of mine. However, it is something that my wife wanted to learn, so we took a few lessons."

Wife
?
She nearly tripped. "I didn't know you were married."

"That's
married
, as in past tense," he said. "It was a mistake that we rectified a long time ago."

"Any children?"

"No, thank God."

For some reason, the way he said that bothered her. "You don't want children?"

"Maybe one day—with the right woman.
Liz definitely wasn't the right woman."

They'd been dancing a waltz and when the number ended, the band started another slower dance. As much as she tried not to let being so physically close to John
affect
her, she was all too aware of him. She fought the temptation to lean into him by holding herself more erect in his arms. She didn't care if she was being rude. She would not let herself be attracted to this man.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing."

He gave her a curious look. "Well, try to relax. You're acting like a virgin on her wedding night."

She gaped at him, embarrassment causing her face to heat. "Excuse me? Did it occur to you that maybe I don't like being held so tightly?" She shoved at his chest to give
herself
more room and created a four-inch gap of space between them.

"It's a slow dance," he bit out, pulling her close again. "You're not supposed to be able to drive a bus between us."

Fighting hard to control her rising temper, she shoved at him again a little harder, only to find that his arms were, once again, like iron bands holding her in place. "We're too close," she said between clenched teeth.

"We are
not
too close." He sounded like he was fighting to keep his temper.

"Please," she scoffed. "If you were any closer, you'd be inside me." Looking up to see why they'd suddenly stopped dancing, she found John staring at her so intently that the heat from his gaze nearly scorched her. Then her words registered in her brain and she prayed for the earth to open and swallow her whole.

John was barely aware of Jess's obvious mortification or the expression of horror spreading across her face. His mind was firmly locked on acting out the very thing she'd suggested. He couldn't remember a time he'd wanted a woman this badly, and, instinctively, he pulled her closer, the room full of people forgotten as he leaned forward, intent on tasting her sweet lips.

He heard her gasp right before she shoved him, struggling to break free of his embrace. He released her so fast she would have fallen if he hadn't reached out a hand to steady her, but as soon as she regained her balance, she jerked her arm from his grasp and stormed off.

He watched her leave, wondering who was more psychotic—the reckless female who went around trying to kill vampires—or him, for finding her attractive?

Needing solitude, he headed out the French doors opening onto the back patio of the mansion and stopped long enough to take a deep breath of cool night air. It helped calm him, but not enough. He knew he should just find Dirk and Beth, congratulate them and leave, but he wasn't quite ready to call it a night.

The door to the patio opened and several other guests emerged, so John headed around to the side of the house where he could think in private.

He wasn't sure exactly when he noticed he had company. He even knew who was there before he turned around and confirmed it with his eyes.

"Hello, Detective
Boehler
," Harris said, stepping forward so the light from the house would fall on him.

"If you're going to keep sneaking up on me like that,
Vlad
, I'd appreciate it if you'd wear a bell."

The vampire smiled—a small lifting of the lips that showed the tips of his fangs. John worked to keep his heartbeat at a slow, steady rhythm. Just because this vampire had passed up several previous opportunities to kill him didn't mean he might not still try. "At the risk of sounding rude, why are you here?" Then a sudden thought had him reaching for his gun as he searched the darkness. "Is Brody—"

"No, he's not here," the vampire said. "I came for another reason."

John caught the muted sound of a footstep just as the vampire's gaze shifted to something behind him. John whirled and saw Mac and Dirk approaching. As they drew near, John made a decision.

"Run," he said to the vampire, stepping forward so he was blocking Dirk and Mac from seeing the creature.

"What's going on here?" Mac asked, glaring at him with an ice-cold, piercing stare.

Glancing behind him, John saw the vampire hadn't moved. "I can explain…"

"Harris, what brings you out tonight?"

"I wanted to talk to
Bethany
."

John stepped away from the group and stared at them in stunned surprise. "You know each other?"

"We have a history," Dirk said cryptically. Then to Harris, "She's a little busy right now."

Harris looked back at the mansion as the sound of music and laughter filled the night.

"Yes, I can see that," Harris said.

"Beth and I were married today," Dirk explained. "This is the reception."

John thought he saw a pained expression cross the vampire's face, but it was quickly gone. "Congratulations to you both."

Dirk nodded but didn't smile. "Thanks."

There was an uncomfortable pause and then Harris reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial. "Please give this to her," Harris said. "It's filled with the adult
chupacabra
venom." He held the vial out until Dirk took it from him. "Tell her if she wants more, I can get it. You know how to get in touch with me."

Dirk extended his other hand and John saw that he held a sealed blue envelope. When Harris looked surprised, Dirk shrugged. "This is from Beth. I don't know what it says, but it's been sitting by the door for a couple of days. She thought you might stop by."

"Thank you." Harris took it from him. There was an uncomfortable shift in their stances and John simply stared at them all in surprise.

"How's the
chupa
?" Mac asked after a moment.

Harris smiled. "She's fine." He turned his head to look off into the distance. "She's developed a taste for the deer in these woods."

Mac nodded. "I'll tell
Lanie
. She was worried."

An awkward silence fell as John tried to figure out what was going on. Then Dirk looked at his watch. "We'd better get back inside. John, are you coming?" They turned to him.

"Not just yet," he said.

Mac and Dirk gave Harris a hard look as if they weren't sure if they trusted him not to kill John as soon as they turned their backs.

Harris sighed. "I've already fed tonight. I won't hurt the detective."

"Damn right, you won't," John said, affronted. "And I promise not to stake your ass." Mac and Dirk studied them carefully, like parents trying to decide if it was safe to leave two kids by themselves.

"All right," Dirk said,
then
he and Mac turned and walked off.

John watched them leave and then looked back at the vampire. "I'm guessing you three have a connection beyond the obvious?"

"Old Navy buddies. It's a long story."

"I'd like to hear it."

"Some other time, Detective.
I have only a few hours before dawn and I need to look for Brody."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Not yet. Good night." He walked off and was soon swallowed by the night. "Oh.
Detective?"
The vampire's voice drifted out of the darkness. "Thank you."

"For what?"
John asked, confused.

"For stepping in to save my life—again," Harris said, inadvertently raising an issue that had been bothering John.

"I'll be honest," he found himself saying. "I'm not sure I did the right thing."

There was a moment of silence. "I understand," Harris said quietly. Then John was alone once more.

"Detective
Boehler
, are you listening to me?" The sharp tone of Richard Dresden's voice pierced John's eardrums and set his back teeth on edge.

"Yes, I'm listening." All afternoon, he'd done nothing but
listen
to theories and answer questions. Like a kid stuck in class, he glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered how much longer he'd have to suffer through this interrogation.

"Then tell me how these five
Exsanguinator
cases—the ones where the victims have rap sheets—are related to the others."

"I don't know," John said, not trying to be a smartass. "I was never able to determine a connection other than that they were all killed by the same person or group." Now he knew more—that all the victims had been killed by a vampire.

It was clear that Dick didn't like John's response because he paced back and forth twice more, holding the files in his hand as if the physical contact would somehow help him understand them better. John could have told him it wouldn't work. He'd spent hours searching for an answer that wouldn't make him sound like a candidate for a padded cell.

For a brief moment, watching the man pace, John was tempted to tell him about the vampires, just to see his reaction. Finally,
Dresden
stopped pacing and sat down. His coat had come off two hours ago, and now his tie hung loose and the top button of his shirt was undone. He was on a fast downhill slide into slovenliness and John almost felt sorry for the prick; the operative word being "almost."