J. Ward - Dark Lover

She thought for a moment. Havers would have a fit if he knew she was seeing a human.

"Here. I will meet you here. Tomorrow night."

He smiled. "Good. Now, how're you getting home? Do you need a ride? A taxi?"

"No, I will do that myself."

"Wait-before you go." He moved toward her. That lovely scent of his hit her nose and she breathed him in. "Can I kiss you good-night? Even though I don't deserve it?"

Per custom, she offered him the back of her hand.

He took it and pulled her forward. That throbbing in her blood and between her legs came back.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

She did as he'd said.

His lips softly brushed her forehead. Then her temple.

Her mouth opened as the sweet suffocation returned.

"You could never displease me," he said in his gravelly voice.

And then his lips touched her cheek.

She waited for more. When nothing came, she opened her eyes. He was staring down at her remotely.

"Go," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded. And dematerialized right out of his hand.

Butch shouted and leaped back. " Shit !"

He looked at his hand. He could still feel her palm against his. Still smell her perfume.

But she was goddamned gone. Poof. One minute in front of him and then the next…

Beth came running into the room. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay," he snapped.

The suspect strode in. "Where's Marissa?"

"How should I know! She fucking disappeared! In front… She was… I held her hand and then she-" He sounded like a frantic idiot and clapped his trap shut.

But why wouldn't he be freaked out? He liked the laws of physics just as he knew them. Gravity keeping everything on the flipping planet where it should be. E = mc 2telling him how fast he could get to a bar.

People not poofing the hell out of a goddamned room.

"May I tell him?" Beth asked her man.

The suspect shrugged. "Usually I'd say no, because it's better they don't know. But considering what he saw-"

"Tell me what? That you're a bunch of-"

"Vampires," Beth murmured.

Butch looked at her, annoyed. "Yeah, right. Try that one again, sweetheart."

But then she started talking, telling him things he couldn't believe.

When Beth fell silent, he could only stare at her. His instincts were telling him she wasn't lying. But it was all just too hard to accept.

"I don't believe this," he said to her.

"It was hard for me to comprehend, too."

"I'll bet."

He paced around the room, wishing he had a drink. The two of them just stared at him.

Finally, he stopped in front of Beth. "Open your mouth."

He heard a low, nasty sound behind him just as a cold draft hit him in the back.

"Wrath, it's okay," Beth said. "Calm down."

She parted her lips, revealing two long canines that had very certainly not been there before. Butch felt his knees wobble as he reached out to touch her teeth.

A thick hand clamped on his arm, tight enough to bend the bones in his wrist.

"Don't even think about it," Beth's man growled.

"Let him go," she commanded gently, though she didn't offer her mouth again after the guy had released his grip. "They're real, Butch. This whole thing… it's all real."

Butch looked up at the suspect. "So you're actually a vampire, is that it?"

"You'd better believe it, cop." The big, dark bastard smiled, flashing a monstrous set of fangs.

Now that's some serious hardware , Butch thought.

"Did you bite her and turn her into one?"

"Doesn't work that way. You're either born our kind or you're not."

Well, weren't all those Dracula fans going to be bummed? No two-pronged conversions.

Butch let himself fall down onto the sofa. "Did you kill those women? To drink their…"

"Blood? No. What's in human veins wouldn't keep me alive for long."

"So you're telling me you had nothing to do with those deaths? I mean, we found throwing stars at the scenes that match the ones you were packing the night I arrested you."

"I didn't kill them, cop."

"How about the one in the car?"

The guy shook his head. "My prey is not human. What I fight's got nothing to do with your world. And the bomb? We lost one of ours in it."

Beth made a quick, hard sound. "My father," she whispered.

The man drew her into his arms. "Yeah. And we're looking for the bastard who did it."

"Any idea who pushed the button?" Butch asked, the cop in him coming out.

The guy shrugged. "We got a bead on something. But that's our business, not yours."

Yeah, and Butch had no reason to ask anyway. Because he wasn't on the force.

The guy stroked Beth's back and shook his head. "I won't lie to you, cop. Occasionally, a human gets in the way of what we do. And if anyone threatens our race, I will kill them, no matter who or what they are. But I'm not going to tolerate human casualties the same way I used to, and not just because it risks our exposure." He pressed a kiss onto Beth's mouth, meeting her eyes.

At that point, the rest of the gang members filed into the room. Their cold stares made Butch feel like a bug under glass. Or a roast beef about to be carved up.

Mr. Normal stepped forward and offered him a Scotch bottle. "You look like you could use some."

Yeah, you think?

Butch took a swig. "Thanks."

"So can we kill him now?" said the one with the goatee and the baseball hat.

Beth's man spoke harshly. "Back off, V."

"Why? He's just a human."

"And my shellan is half-human. The man doesn't die just because he's not one of us."

"Jesus, you've changed your tune."

"So you need to catch up, brother ."

Butch got to his feet. If his death was going to be debated, he wanted in on the discussion.

"I appreciate the support," he said to Beth's boy. "But I don't need it."

He went over to the guy with the hat, discreetly switching his grip on the bottle's neck in case he had to crack the damn thing over a head. He moved in tight, so their noses were almost touching. He could feel the vampire heating up, priming for a fight.

"I'm happy to take you on, asshole," Butch said. "I'll probably end up losing, but I fight dirty, so I'll make you hurt while you kill me." Then he eyed the guy's hat. "Though I hate clocking the shit out of another Red Sox fan."

There was a shout of laughter from behind him. Someone said, "This is gonna be fun to watch."

The guy in front of Butch narrowed his eyes into slits. "You true about the Sox?"

"Born and raised in Southie. Haven't stopped grinning since '04."

There was a long pause.

The vampire snorted. "I don't like humans."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too crazy about you bloodsuckers."

Another stretch of silence.

The guy stroked his goatee. "What do you call twenty guys watching the World Series?"

"The New York Yankees," Butch replied.

The vampire laughed in a loud burst, whipped the baseball cap off his head, and slapped it on his thigh. Just like that, the tension was broken.

Butch let out a long breath, feeling like he'd just been missed by an eighteen-wheeler. As he took another swig from the bottle, he decided it had been one weird fucking night.

"Tell me that Curt Schilling was not a god," the vampire said.

There was a collective groan from the other men. One of them muttered, "If he starts going on about Varitek, I'm outta here."

"Schilling was a true warrior," Butch said, taking another hit of the single-malt. When he offered the Scotch to the vampire, the guy grabbed the bottle and took a hard pull.

"Amen to that," the vampire said.

When Marissa walked into her bedroom, she took a little spin, feeling her gown splay out around her.