Tall, Dark, and Vampire

awe. For the first time since she had been turned, the sun had not damaged her. Not even so much as a tan.

In that brief moment, Doug had given her life, and as she inspected the undamaged skin, one word escaped her lips on a whisper. “Bloodmate.”

She didn’t know how or why it could be true, and she didn’t care. In fact, after getting that taste, she knew that all bets were off, and the dreams would no longer be enough. Now she craved more than flesh and blood. She craved him.

Chapter 4

Olivia moved through the tunnels with the ease of experience, although not as quickly as she hoped. The Presidium’s New York office was located directly beneath the Cloisters, a museum full of medieval artifacts, and Fort Tryon Park, which wasn’t that far from the medical examiner’s office. For a human it would be one hell of a walk to the Cloisters. As a vampire using the underground network, it was less of a trek, but since she hadn’t fed in almost twenty-four hours, she was dragging ass a little.

She whipped around the turns effortlessly and with such speed that the stone and cement walls became nothing more than a blur. Even though she was tired, she pushed herself and moved as swiftly as she could. Heightened vampire senses were great, unless you were running through a sewer tunnel. Then it was just an extra dose of gross.

As distasteful as her surroundings were, and regardless of the vermin that scurried through the tunnels to get out of her way, a smile lingered on her lips. Doug didn’t just look like the man she loved as a human or strongly resemble the man in her dreams. He was one and the same, reincarnated, and larger than life. She saw his memories from three hundred years ago; memories of their shared dreams flooded her, trimmed with his emotions, his desire.

But if he had these memories, why didn’t he know her? Why not recognize her? Were they simply buried so deep in his unconscious mind that he was unable to see what they were?

Her smile faltered as the dank air blew over her face, and the din of human life on the streets above filled her head. She had fed from countless humans over the years, and not one gave her life, albeit briefly, the way a drop or two of Doug’s blood had. She had tasted demon blood and Amoveo blood, but neither had that kind of effect.

So what was it about Doug’s blood that jump-started her heart? She knew the answer before she even asked herself the question. Doug was her bloodmate. He had to be. It was the only explanation that made sense, and while the thought thrilled her, the reality didn’t. The only way he could truly be her bloodmate would be if she turned him, and that was the last thing on earth she wanted to do.

Olivia arrived at the main entrance of the Presidium, in the catacombs beneath the Cloisters, and let out a sigh of relief. She brushed at the droplets of moisture and dirt on her suit that she’d picked up along the way.

“Damn it.” Her voice echoed. “I’m going to make Maya pay the dry- cleaning bill.”

Olivia pushed in one of the rectangular stones along the top of the wall, and moments later an oblong section of the wall swung inward to reveal the opulent hallways of the Presidium’s central office network. She stepped through, and as the door shut silently, she allowed herself a moment to appreciate the pristine environment. Olivia looked down the hall in both directions, but thankfully, found herself alone, at least for the time being.

She adjusted her suit jacket and fluffed her hair in an effort to not look like she had been in the tunnels. Olivia shuddered. The pictures on the wall looked like they were watching her. The czar and his senators loved to honor themselves any chance they got, and it started by having their pictures lining the main hall of the central office.

As if they could forget who ruled their society. Memories of executions she had overseen as a sentry came roaring back in living color, and while she remembered all of them, there was one face that would haunt her forever.

The young vampire slaughtered an entire frat house before they caught her, but the damage was done— and so was she. The girl was only twelve. She suffered from a bad turn, and after her maker abandoned her, she went the wrong way fast. The last sound Olivia heard as she dove into the desert tunnels leading back to Las Vegas were the little girl’s screams as she turned to dust.

She paused at Czar Augustus’s portrait, and her mouth set in a tight line as she studied her former boss. He was the czar in Vegas during Olivia’s time as sentry and heartlessly ordered the girl’s execution. Augustus was a bastard and took sheer pleasure in executing anyone who broke the precious rules, unless, of course, it was one of his own progeny.

Augustus’s son, Brutus, turned the girl and left her to run amok with no guidance or training, fearful with a burning thirst for blood. Brutus should have been executed for his crime because the rules had been broken, but he’s Augustus’s flesh and blood son. So instead of death, Brutus was banished to hibernation for fifty years. She heard when he woke up that he split for Europe. Too bad dear old daddy didn’t go with him.

Augustus and Brutus were no different from human men who thrived on power.

They were both sick fucks.

She never understood why Emperor Zhao put Augustus in charge of the northeastern territory after his century of service was up in Vegas. He seemed suited to the Eastern Bloc nations. Augustus and the four senators who served with him reveled in the dark side of the city. There were plenty of drunks, drug addicts, and homeless to indulge in continuous live feeds.

Her heels clicked along the blood-red marble floor and echoed around her with irritating clarity as she hurried toward the records room. The ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the curved ceiling and glittered brightly along the yellow halls, giving the illusion of sunlight.

The buzz of the security camera captured her attention as it followed her every move. Olivia waved to the blinking eye and delivered a tight smile as she stopped in front of the arched wooden door. The click of the lock releasing echoed through the empty hallway, and Olivia readied herself for whoever was waiting on the other side.

It could have been Millicent with a few of the pit bulls that watched the Presidium halls during the day. It would be highly unlikely to find Augustus awake during the day, let alone roaming the halls, because he would think that was beneath him. She slipped her hand in the pocket of her jacket and wrapped her fingers around the cool glass tubes as she pulled the door open.

Pete leaned casually against the gray stone wall with his arms crossed over his chest and winked. “Hey, boss lady.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes as the door closed behind her. “I thought I told you not to worry.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and pushed himself away from the wall. “You know how much I suck at following orders. Besides, Marianna told me that if I didn’t help you, then I wasn’t getting laid for a while.”

Olivia smothered a laugh and shook her head. “Nice.”

“Come on.” He headed down the stone hallway. “Millicent is waiting.”

Olivia’s senses were on high alert as she glanced around the vacant hall. “Where are the dogs?”

“I’ll put them out when we’re done. Oh, by the way, I filled Shane in on the murder, but not the specifics, like we agreed.”

“Good,” she said tightly. “I haven’t met him, which means I don’t trust him. We need to have proof that Maya is innocent before they get more information. Augustus in particular.”

“Not a problem.” Pete kept his voice down and adjusted one of the weapons beneath his long coat. “They rely on Shane and me to keep them apprised of the happenings out there. We’re lucky that poor old Ronald was murdered in my borough. If it had been Queens, Staten Island, or Brooklyn, then Shane would be all over it. He did tell me that if we need his help, he’d be obliged to assist.” Pete let out a short laugh. “Those were his exact words, by the way, obliged to assist.”

“Sounds like a fun guy,” Olivia said under her breath.

They strode side by side through the maze of stone hallways, their path lit by the flickering light from wrought iron chandeliers. The halls that led from room to room were medieval in their decor and hadn’t changed