Slayers Inc. Page 2

  "And you?"

  This is the part I don't remember. I saw Rosa and Brent's necks ripped to shreds and then nothing... "I was knocked unconscious. I think they would've killed me, too, but the guys from my squad came to my rescue."

  "You were lucky."

  Lucky I knew the cops and they didn't examine me too closely or I'd already be in the State Facility for the Undead. Lucky some gung-ho rookie didn't staked me first and ask questions later. In truth, I went home and crashed. It was days before I came to and realized exactly what had happened to me. I still haven't figured out the why or how.

  "The killers vanished before they could be apprehended. They resurfaced in Colombia, where toleration of the criminal element reached a new high when the country openly acknowledged acceptance of vampires. Now, Slayers Inc. is on the job."

  Joe nodded. "My cousin is happy to work for a man like Wilson. He understands a man willing to stand up for his family." This time, when Joe spoke, he inched his chair closer. "A man with much money and so generous. But Coop will not be pleased to have you involved. He thinks he'll scare you off so he can do his job in peace. I think Coop will have a hard time getting rid of you."

  "I know he will," I said. "I haven't come this far to be told to get lost. Come tomorrow morning, I'm on a plane headed to Bogotá. You can either use my help or stay the fuck out of my way. Besides John Wilson, I have more at stake than anyone involved in this."

  "I've heard you have as much money as Wilson, too? Perhaps you would like to marry a good looking Latino?" Joe winked at me and flashed his mega-watt grin.

  "I'll think about it," I told him. "But if you're under the mistaken impression I have as much money as John, you'll be disappointed. Nobody has that much money, except John Wilson."

  Joe took a strong pull on his beer, not taking his gaze away from my face until he'd emptied the bottle. He made the universal two-finger motion at the waitress to bring more drinks. "Maybe you'll do."

  "I'm not here for an audition."

  "Forgive me," he said softly. "I didn't mean to make you angry. We've been told how important your friend was to you."

  "Rosa wasn't just a friend. We grew up together in the same house. I went on a hunger strike in kindergarten to make my mother hire Rosa's mom as our live-in maid." I started to choke-up and held it. Damn! If I can't breathe, why the hell can I still cry?

  "Rosa matters," I said, after I composed myself. "Not because she was a fellow officer. She matters because no one deserves to be murdered by vampires. That's all I have to say." It's still too painful. Even while the words rushed from my mouth, I felt another stab to my shriveled heart. Just the thought of her could make me blubber. Another thing they forgot to mention in the handbook--The Vampire's Guide to Better Living.

  "Coop will try to make you quit and go home. He thinks your emotions will get you killed. Or worse, one of us."

  Joe wasn't saying anything that surprised me. What Coop might do worried me. If Coop had managed to get my medical records, I knew exactly what to expect. It could get ugly.

  "Are you wearing shades for a reason? Take them off so I can see your eyes, chica." Joe started to smile at me again. Then his eyes swiftly narrowed and he stared down at my waist. I didn't think my anatomy interested him--much, so I moved my arm to make sure he couldn't see my gun. I could tell from his frown my movement gave me away, but he didn't get a chance to comment before the front door slammed open. A loud, boisterous crowd of men walked single-file into the dark bar.

  "Aah, los hombres peligrosos del diablo." Joe stood to motion them in our direction.

  The devil's dangerous men, I mentally translated. Hard men. Men, who wouldn't back down, couldn't be bluffed and wanted me gone. Men who refused to believe I could gut it out.

  I sat up a little straighter in my chair. "Bring 'em on."

  Chapter 2

  * * *

  All but one of the men came over to greet Joe. Each appeared to be at least part Latino and looked as if he kicked newborn puppies for fun.

  "Que es la mujer?" One of the men demanded of Joe. Who's the woman?

  "Coop told you no messing with the locals," said another, even younger man with two silver earrings in his left ear. I guessed him to be at least three years younger than my twenty-four.

  "This is Jenna Bradley," Joe said. I stayed mum as a cute guy with a wild Mohawk haircut insisted I looked too good to be Jenna Bradley.

  "No, I tell you, it's her," Joe insisted. "I wouldn't argue with a woman carrying a gun." Joe laughed as they all began to examine me from head to toe.

  That's one for you, Joe. The glimmer in his eyes said he'd known exactly what they'd do.

  "Thought you was broke," the biggest guy said to Joe as he eyed the drink in Joe's hand.

  "Jenna meet Yam. Jenna's buying," Joe said. Two points for Joe and zero for me. However, if it took a few drinks to keep these guys happy, I didn't have a problem.

  The sound-level in the bar hitched upward a couple of decibels as the men pushed tables together and pulled chairs across the wooden floor, while they loudly vocalized their deep appreciation for free booze.

  "You guys want the usual?" the waitress asked once everyone had settled down.

  "Carry on without me. I need to visit the little girl's room." I really needed a second to regroup and make sure my fangs weren't showing. I stood and swung my duffle bag over my shoulder. The guys were all still trying to find my gun. Or something.

  As I walked across the bar, prickles ran down my spine, which had nothing to do with heat. Not the kind of heat an air conditioner could cool. I resisted the urge to look around for Coop.

  Once inside the single-stall bathroom, I locked the door before rummaging through my bag for my make-up. Just to keep them wondering, I glam'd myself with a quick swipe or two. Yeah, right. I'd promised myself I wouldn't let Coop see how he affected me, yet here I stood with my face in a damned mirror, yet another inaccuracy. My reflection had survived the bite.

  Before leaving, I readjusted my gun. The Mini Firestorm holds ten, 9mm Luger loads in the cartridge and another in the chamber, but I almost never chamber a bullet since it would really piss me off if I accidentally blew a hole in my side. Since so far, with almost nothing what I'd expected, maybe I'd still be undead, only with a big hole I'd have to hide, too.

  The minute I stepped out the bathroom door, I could tell something had changed. The men seemed subdued, and I found the reason quickly. Coop stood with his back to me while he talked to them.

  Dressed all in black, like the proverbial bad guy, he seemed bigger than I'd imagined him. Taller. Well over six feet. His dossier had said only two inches over, but he looked seven feet tall to me. His tight black, sleeveless T-shirt exposed his well-defined biceps and then it clung to his wide shoulders before it veered down to his trim waist. His faded black jeans hugged a taut, rounded bottom that seemed to magnetize my eyes. No matter how hard I tried to look elsewhere, his ass kept bringing me back. My mouth started to water, and so did that other part of me that nice girls can ignore.

  I nearly reached the table before he shifted to look at me. The moment was suspended in time.

  Pure torture.

  Nothing registered in his face except--interest? No way!

  Something caught in my throat. He mirrored the mug shots from a tactical montage on my living room wall. Despite his scruffy, unshaven face and overall rugged, wolfish appearance, his piercing blue eyes turned me to pudding. These were the same eyes that had followed me around my living room for almost a year, yet nothing could have prepared me for the real thing in living color. I'd never seen eyes so intense--cold, blue diamonds as dangerous as fire, with crystal-lined centers, circling pinpoint black pupils despite the dim light. His disgustingly long, thick black eyelashes made them appear to glow menacingly. I'd heard he'd been bitten a couple of times, but not turned. Maybe the bites left him with a residual effect.

  Coop's half-Latin heritage showed in his tanned skin and rav
en hair brushed back tightly against his head, then bunched into a long ponytail. He was one hell of a bad boy. Holy shit! I pitied any woman who might lose her heart to this one. It almost made me glad I no longer had one in working order.

  I took the seat where I'd been earlier. Coop's new expression, half bored, half threatening, warned me to take it easy. "Pass me a beer." I pretended to ignore him and left off saying please so he'd get the idea I'm a badass.

  "Hey, Coop, looked like you were getting to ready to hit on her," one of the men taunted. It didn't exactly look like that to me, but I also didn't exactly mind the idea.

  The waitress arrived in time to hear and adopted a quick attitude. Christ, I don't even know this woman and she's out to get me. She made a motion toward me before she directed a rigid pointed finger at Joe and gave it a shake. "These two made it in the men's toilet earlier. She came out braggin' about it."

  Why did she have to do that? I sank down and cursed my big mouth while Joe chuckled.

  All of the guys gawked at Joe in disbelief and then turned back to Coop to catch his reaction. Marc Cooper's already stone-cold face hardened to titanium steel.

  "I want to talk to you now," he said to me. His thick voice resonated with a low, steamy rumble something like honey-coated cactus needles, both prickly and sexual at the same time.

  Joe stood up, but Coop continued to stare at me, waiting.

  "I think maybe he means me," I told Joe.

  Coop's face remained unreadable as we all watched the waitress gather the empty bottles. When she finally left, I expected all hell to break loose.

  Coop cracked his knuckles. Give me a break. "So, you're the little lady who thinks she can kill a master vampire?"

  Little lady? Just a tad condescending? And exactly when did I become little? Maybe I'm just too fucking sensitive. With seven pairs of eyes trained on me I couldn't pretend I didn't hear. I'd hoped to avoid a confrontation for at least another minute or so, but I could feel my congealed blood warm to the task. "Was that a rhetorical question?" I asked, after I put my beer down and dabbed the corners of my mouth with a paper napkin. Manners before mayhem. My mother would be so proud of me.

  "I'll be goddamned if I'm going to let you get any of my men killed," Coop barked.

  "That's it? Is that supposed to get rid of me? You need to swing your dick a little harder because you didn't move me." I held my arm up, turned it palm up and then down. "Look. No goose bumps. Want to try again?"

  Some of the guys hooted and Coop laughed--not the kind of laugh that sounded as if I'd amused him. I shrugged and sat back in my chair. The strange effects of the tequila on my undead body didn't help one bit. I didn't want to speak too fast, but could feel the collective frustration as everyone waited for my response. I picked up my almost empty bottle of beer and held it suspended in front of my mouth. "I can hold my own. Get over it. I'm here for the duration. As I told Joe, I'm on a plane in the morning and there's nothing you can do about it. Accept it or not...I don't care. Just don't get in my way."

  "I think Wilson should have his head examined for letting you get involved in this," said a young man with a white scar cutting across his whiskered chin. "If you were my woman I'd--"

  I slammed my bottle back on the table and gave him a talk-to-the-hand. "I read where over two million women get arrested each year for violent crimes. Want to raise those stats?"

  "Two words--anger management," Coop said.

  "Two words--fuck you." My mom always told me nice girls don't get mad. Why did I always seem to prove her right? If they weren't careful, they'd find out just how angry I could get. I blame it on the really gross side effects of being a vampire.

  "Don't worry, your protector got word to us to stay away from you," Coop said.

  His words startled me. John Wilson was no more than the moneyman. I could have gone to my wealthy family for the money or even used my own trust fund. I figured letting someone else foot the bill would keep me out of the spotlight.

  "John told you to stay away from me?" No way.

  "You two got something going on?" Coop asked with a knowing smirk and jerk-off motion with his fist. "I can't think of any other reason he'd let you come with a bunch of horny men."

  For some crazy reason, this made me angrier than his earlier remarks. Go figure.

  "Maybe John started without me and forgot to ask me to participate. It's a common male trait. And nobody is letting me do anything. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Like a spring loaded, snake-in-a-can joke gimmick, my butt left the chair. I had so much energy ready to fly out of me I did the only thing I could do. I kicked the table leg. It snapped off and thankfully only flew a few feet into the air. Somehow Joe kept everything from hitting the floor as if he'd expected it.

  "If you're the type who thinks they need to have the last word let me warn you," I said to Coop. "Not now!" I didn't wait to see anyone's reaction to my temper tantrum, just in case they could see my eyes glowing behind my glasses. I turned and stomped away. I was blowing it--big time.

  Even with my face buried against the nicotine-stained glass of the jukebox, I could feel Coop walk up behind me. "I've spent every waking minute for the past year getting ready for this." I twisted around to face him, careful not initiate body contact. "If John has romantic feelings, he hasn't said anything to me. This isn't about romance. It's about justice."

  "Trust me, he's interested. I imagine he's just biding his time until you get your blood-thirst sated." Coop answered and took a step--closer. "He's probably intimidated by you right now. You may be a little too physical for a blue-blood like him."

  For a second I wondered if he'd guessed my secret. "You think I overdid it?"

  "Things go south on this op, you'll be thankful for every muscle in your body," he said, and moved nearer still. I could feel heat radiating off of his body and a zing from a vibe thing I had going with him.

  He tapped his fingers on the glass as I started to leave.

  "There's my song," he said, more air and growl than sound. Before I could formulate a thought, he stuck his coins in the slot and punched some buttons. He'd been punching my buttons before I'd even met him.

  As soon as the music started to play, he pulled me into his arms. It wasn't that he held me too tightly against his hard body, it was that a little of his body went a long way. I nonchalantly entered an orgasmic vortex and tried to figure a way to worm myself back out before I had my way with him then and there. I followed the slow gyration of his hips and locked both arms around his neck. Moisture flooded my special panties.

  Coop flinched when he felt my gun.

  "What's wrong?" I pretended not to know and pushed harder against him. It added a little more drama as I rubbed the butt of my gun along his hip. It felt good to be in a man's arms. It felt beyond incredible to be in Coop's strong arms. I wanted to rub my nose against his neck, he smelled so good. But I had no intention of falling into bed with him or any other man, unless it was by accident. Especially not one I already had a serious Jones for.

  "Why the hell are you wearing a gun? I could make you eat it before you blinked twice."

  "Maybe," I said. "But while I'm chowing down on my gun, I could always use my knife."

  He growled again and pulled me still tighter. The feel of him, alternately paralyzed and--what?--electrified me? This man had a rap sheet longer than my arm, not that it mattered for a vampire hunter. How could I rationalize having any kind of feelings for him, even if they were only sexual? Very, very sexual.

  His fingers ran along the small of my back. "Maybe we should save this conversation for later."

  "I didn't think you wanted me to have a later."

  "Go home," he said. "We'll make sure the Sandovals never kill again."

  "Save your breath. I can get them without you." That sounded nuts, even to me. Everything I knew about vampires filled hundreds of pages, but already my own experience had me questioning the so-called experts who wrote the books. And shape shifters...i
f any were involved, I didn't know what I'd do then.

  "You aren't what I expected, I'll give you that. You don't look much like the prim and proper picture we had of you. That alone tells me you're more dedicated to this agenda than I believed. But forcing yourself into the middle of something that could get someone killed..."

  "My part in this is ambiguous at best." I outright lied. "I'm just a decoy. I'll dance for Sandoval and get him to come after me. I promise I can do it." I intended to be much more than bait.

  "You're a cop, not a vampire hunter. You're out of your element. But I agree you'll get his attention." He nuzzled into my neck and, even though I don't like anything or anyone near my carotid, I loved the sensations. I felt the warmth of his breath. The unique smell of him filled my head. It was a cross between spice and musk with pure-fuck as the main ingredient. And there was something else, a scent I couldn't name, but I wanted more.

  If I stiffened, he might guess how he affected me. I forced myself to relax. "I'm not a cop anymore. Technically, I'm nothing now. I thought Wilson covered all of this. I have no intention of going home. You've got the power to send me packing if you can convince him I can't cut it physically, but you have to give me a chance. Plus, John knows I'll hunt the Sandovals on my own if you refuse to help me. So you really don't have a choice."

  "I've agreed to give you a chance, but that doesn't mean you can waltz in here and start trouble with my men."

  "If you think I'm here for anything other than business, you don't have a clue about me."

  "I know all there is to know about you."

  I prepared myself for what came next and gave him credit for being upfront. I didn't imagine he'd just come out with it. Then again, maybe he felt free to speak candidly because of his Alpha-male status. They all probably suspected my dark secret.