The Vampire's Desire Read online

  The Vampire’s Desire

  Alexis Morgan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 1

  Frustrated and thoroughly disgusted, Ambrose O’Brien jerked his tie loose and stared out at the midnight sky. Being the baddest of the bad had its perks, but it definitely made for a social life that sucked. He’d just wasted yet another evening in long line of social functions, each more predictable and boring than the one before.

  To make matters worse, she hadn’t bothered to show up. Wasn’t it bad enough that they’d spent the past two nights debating her clan’s latest bunch of ridiculous demands? The only reason he’d arranged for the dinner at all was the hope that after sharing a meal and a few drinks, he could convince the vampire rep and her human counterpart to each make some small concession. Nothing major, nothing important; just something to get the ball rolling when the real discussions started up again tomorrow night.

  Was that too much to ask? Evidently so, since Miranda Connor hadn’t even bothered to send her regrets, leaving both him and the humans fuming over another example of vampire clan rudeness. Finally, after waiting for over an hour, Ambrose had signaled the waiter to take their orders.

  The steaks had been tough and conversation even more so. Kurt, the spokesman for his wife’s clan, had become increasingly obnoxious as the evening wore on and his bottle of scotch disappeared.

  Damn Miranda, anyway. If she’d only had the common courtesy to call, Ambrose would’ve had an excuse to cancel the dinner altogether. Instead, he’d wasted hours of precious time listening to Kurt complain, while his dumpling of a wife, Otka, ordered half of the menu for dinner, along with three different desserts. The last two were to go, and all on Ambrose. Somehow he doubted his employer, the North American Coalition, was going to reimburse him for any of it.

  Most of the time he liked his job and took pride in doing it well. Like others of his hybrid species, the Chancellors, he had a strong sense of purpose. His job was to oversee all the Chancellors who worked for the Coalition, as well as take on the trickier negotiations between humans and vampires. He fought for and won the job because he was the strongest of his kind and had never—never—lost a negotiation. Sure, he’d been known to compromise, but that was all part of the game.

  However, this latest round of meetings was definitely not going well. It seemed as if for each step forward they took, they tumbled back three. Kurt was bad enough, but Miranda, with her snooty vampire upper-class attitudes, only made it worse. So far, neither side had been willing to give an inch, and all for some acreage out in the middle of nowhere. The vamps owned it. The humans wanted it and were refusing to let convoys of supplies for the vast Connor estate move through their territory until they got it.

  The vamps were having to fly in supplies so that no one starved. Air freight was damned expensive, however, a fact that Miranda never failed to remind him of at every opportunity. She’d even gone as far as to suggest the additional costs should be tacked on to the sale price of the property. That had pretty much shot down any progress they’d made up to that point.

  Not that Kurt was any better. Ambrose had strong suspicions that the human was having such a great time here in New Eire that he was in no hurry to return to his rural home. And by all reports, Otka spent all her waking time shopping. Did Kurt’s people have any idea how much of the human clan’s hard-earned money Kurt and his wife were spending? Hell, all totaled it might’ve even been enough to meet the vampires’ asking price and then some.

  Maybe he could arrange to leak that little tidbit of information to the folks back on Kurt’s estate. It would be underhanded, but at this point Ambrose was willing to try anything to get things settled.

  What was so damned important about that remote piece of land, anyway? Ordinarily, he accepted the description of the property agreed upon by the two interested parties, but maybe that wasn’t smart this time. There was far too much tension between the two parties for everything to be on the up-and-up. He turned on his computer and fired off a quick order to his operative in that area to do some sniffing around. With luck, he’d uncover something that would help Ambrose force either Kurt or Miranda to compromise. He’d definitely love to see the human have to do some hard-core groveling and then catch the turbo back to his home where he belonged.

  Miranda was a different matter. While Kurt was all posturing and bravado, Miranda was truly a worthy opponent, one who challenged Ambrose on every level. Whenever he faced her across the conference table, he had to work hard to stay one step ahead of her. The female was both intelligent and spirited. Too bad she was such a high-level member of vampire society. Otherwise he’d be tempted to see if she brought that same feistiness to other areas of her life.

  He closed his eyes and imagined the vampire heiress in his bed, her fiery hair spread out on his pillow, those fierce blue eyes trained solely on him as he tasted all of her…passions. No doubt she’d be insulted by the very thought of being bedded by a Chancellor. Even with his high rank, she probably still considered him a lowly half-breed.

  But even if she was willing, it was a bad idea for a lot of reasons, and he knew it. The truth was, she’d most likely come after him with her fangs bared for even thinking such a thing, but that didn’t mean a male couldn’t dream. He smiled at his reflection in the window, his mood definitely on the upswing.

  Back to business. He punched in the code to bring up any messages he’d received since leaving for dinner. After quickly scanning the list, he picked out the handful that he’d have to answer personally. The rest he dumped into a file for his assistant to deal with in the morning.

  Still restless, he considered his options. The wisest move would be to go home, pour himself a healthy dose of good scotch and catch up on paperwork. Failing that, he could drop in at the casino and play a few hands of poker. Trouble was, his reputation made it difficult to find anyone worth playing with. Sure, winning was fun, but not when it was because everyone else at the table was afraid to call his bluff.

  Which brought him back to Miranda. Maybe he should pay an unexpected call on her while the night was still young and find out why she’d stood him up. She had to know that her failure to show up for the dinner wasn’t going to help her cause when he made a final ruling on the case. Miranda might be arrogant, but she wasn’t stupid.

  On the way out of his office, he picked up his leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder. No doubt Miranda would rip into him for daring to show up on her doorstep, especially uninvited and unannounced, but he liked temper in a female. Hell, even her fangs turned him on, making him wish it was his vein she fed from on a regular basis. What would be her reaction if he offered?

  When these negotiations were finally done, maybe he’d ask her and watch the fireworks.

  Twenty minutes later he parked his transport in front of the Connor town house and got out. Considering who the owners were, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that every light in the place was turned on. After all, vamps were nocturnal by nature. Come sunrise, those same windows would be shuttered and locked down.

  But something was definitely wrong. All his hunter instincts flared into full force as he slowly approached the front porch. The door stood ajar, light spilling out onto a body that lay sprawled facedown on the concrete.

  As his fangs dropped into attack position, Ambrose drew his weapon and knelt down to check for a pulse. None. Considering the large pool of congealed blood surrounding the vampire’s corpse, he’d have been more shocked if he’d found one. He didn’t recognize
the poor bastard, but the vamp had definitely gone down fighting.

  Moving to the far side of the door, he slowly pushed it open. Just inside, another vampire casualty stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, an expression of surprised horror permanently etched on his face. Ambrose sidled inside, straining to hear anything beyond the ominous silence shrouding the house.

  The smell of ripe blood and fresh death clouded the air, limiting his ability to determine by scent if there was anyone in the house left alive. Judging by the condition of the two bodies, they’d died about the time he’d ordered his steak rare. His stomach lurched. No wonder Miranda hadn’t shown up for dinner, but where was she now?

  He moved toward the living room and then stumbled to a stop. Another body, this one female with that distinctive red hair, had been impaled on the crushed coffee table, a bloody spike of wood jutting up through her back. Oh, God, no! For a moment, he lost all caution as he rushed across the room. He knelt down to brush the hair back from the female’s face. It wasn’t Miranda, but his relief was short-lived. A slight stirring of the air was his only warning that he was no longer alone. He looked up just in time to see a broken table leg swinging directly at his face. When wood hit bone, the night shattered into a million shards of pain.

  Chapter 2

  Miranda danced back out of reach as Ambrose roared in pain and outrage. Luckily, he’d instinctively brought his arm up to protect his head from her attack, the only reason he was still conscious—or alive. It was a tribute to his warrior nature that he’d managed to hold on to his weapon. Right now it was pointed directly at her heart, and his eyes sparkled with a predator’s need for retribution.

  Miranda immediately dropped her makeshift weapon and retreated a few more steps, holding up her hands in surrender. By standing still with her head slightly bowed, she allowed him the time he needed to stand down. Adrenaline and battle fever ran hot in her veins, but Ambrose O’Brien wasn’t her enemy. At least she hoped not. God knew, she already had enough of those.

  She glanced at the blood seeping through his sleeve, the bright red contrasting sharply with the stark white cotton of his shirt. “Are you all right, Chancellor?”

  His voice was rough when he spoke. “Yes, no thanks to you. What the hell happened here?” He lowered his gun, but she noticed he didn’t snap the safety back on.

  “We were attacked.” She closed her eyes against the remembered screams and did her best to ignore the sweet scent of blood. Her fangs ached with the need to taste it, but vampires didn’t dine on their own dead.

  When Ambrose continued to glare at her in angry silence, she lashed out. “What? You asked. I answered. Do I need to use shorter words?”

  If anything, she’d only managed to make him angrier. It made him appear even bigger and more formidable than he usually did, although she didn’t know how that was possible. The male’s prowess as a warrior was legendary among the members of the Coalition. If Ambrose had ever lost a fight, much less an argument, she’d never heard about it.

  His response was little better than a growl. “Damn it, Randi, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Okay, that did it. She drew herself up to her full height, meeting him eye to eye. “First of all, my name is Miranda, not Randi. And secondly, if I knew more, don’t you think I’d tell you? All I know is that I was on my way to meet you for dinner when I got an emergency call to return home immediately. As soon as I got here, we heard the first shots. One of my guards shoved me into the hiding place under the steps as all hell broke loose. I waited until it was quiet to come out. Both of my guards were killed, as well as my…”

  She paused as she looked past him to where her aunt still lay impaled. She drew a deep breath, trying to control her nausea. “My aunt also died. They must have mistaken her for me. You know how difficult it is for humans to guess a vampire’s age. If they were told to aim for a redheaded female, it would be an easy mistake to make.”

  God, not that any of this was easy. How was she supposed to tell her mother that her only sister had died in her daughter’s place? And what about the guards, who’d been slaughtered just for doing their jobs? Why should her life be worth even one of theirs, much less all three of them? Now wasn’t the time for tears, but that didn’t seem to matter because they poured down her cheeks in acid-hot streaks, anyway.

  Once again Ambrose showed his strength—a crying female didn’t send him into an all-out panic. Instead, he wordlessly yanked a silk handkerchief from his hip pocket and shoved it at her. While she scrubbed her face dry, he prowled the room testing the air with both his sense of smell and taste.

  “Back to the attack. I’m picking up a mixed bag of scents. Vampires mostly, but that’s only logical. The rest is a combination of human and Chancellor. Any idea who all was here tonight? Legitimately or otherwise?”

  Then it hit her. “The Chancellor has to be my cousin Alroy. He lives here in New Eire and volunteered to serve as assistant to my aunt. He’s occasionally does some work for others in the clan, but not often.”

  Ambrose’s eyes narrowed, as if homing in on an elusive scent. “Why not?”

  Okay, so this was awkward. “Because he’s a Chancellor. And before you take offense, it’s not what you think. I consider Alroy to be as much a part of the clan as I am, but he doesn’t see it that way. He’s the son of my mother’s older brother and his human lover. Even though I’m younger by a couple of years, I’m the heir because both my parents happened to be purebloods.”

  She knew how bad that sounded, but she wasn’t in a position to change things. Not yet, anyway. “Look, I’m not defending the policy, just stating the facts. I volunteered to step aside, but Alroy says he wouldn’t accept the position even if it was offered to him. He likes life here in the city more than he does back on the family estate.”

  There was a definite chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. But the unpredictable relationship between the various factions of humans, vampires and the hybrid Chancellors had been an ongoing problem for the North American Coalition longer than she’d been alive.

  “I’m well aware of the attitudes, Miranda. Do you know if Alroy was actually here when the attack occurred?”

  She closed her eyes and let her memories of those horrific minutes play out in her head. “I didn’t see him, but there was a great deal of confusion.”

  “I’ll have my men try to track him down. Until we know otherwise, we’ll assume he was taken.”

  “I hope not.” She shuddered. “If they killed without compunction, what would they do to a captive?”

  “Why do you care?” Ambrose’s expression was ice cold. “Because he knows a lot about the inner workings of your clan?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth, Ambrose. Alroy and I might not always get along, but we’re still blood kin. I don’t want him hurt.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds before some of the tension in his shoulders eased up. “Now, about the human scents?”

  His apparent acceptance of her explanation meant more to her than it should have. Rather than say so, she concentrated on answering his question. “Our house servants are human. None live here, and they leave as soon as the first meal of the evening is served. We value our privacy, you see.”

  “Okay, so you don’t like humans except for their veins.” Once again he sounded disgusted.

  “You don’t know me well enough to judge me, Ambrose. Don’t make me out to be the villain here. The humans are not from our estate, so we didn’t feel comfortable discussing private clan business in front of them. That’s all it was.”

  “Anyone else been around lately?”

  She shook her head as her eyes automatically flickered down to her aunt’s still form. “No one that I was expecting, but that doesn’t mean some weren’t invited without my knowledge. My aunt was here looking for buyers for our excess grain production.”

  “Where would she keep a list of her appointments?”

  “Upstairs
in her sitting room.”

  “Go get it while I call this in. Then pack a suitcase. After I’ve stashed you someplace safe, my people will go over this place from top to bottom. We need to be gone before they get here, though. Whoever did this thinks you’re dead. I don’t want to give them reason to believe otherwise.”

  Miranda hated being bossed around. She’d been trained since birth to give orders herself, but right now the number of people she trusted was down to one—Ambrose. If he’d wanted her dead, she already would be. Her vampire strength aside, he outweighed her by at least fifty kilos, all of it bone and well-toned muscle. Despite his tailor-made clothing and sophisticated demeanor, the man was a warrior straight through to the core.

  “I’ll be back down as fast as I can.”

  He gave her a quick nod of approval. “Good. The less time we linger here, the better.”

  She started for the door, but turned back. “Can we at least move the bodies or cover them with sheets? I can’t stand to leave them like this.”

  The sympathy in Ambrose’s eyes was mixed with promised retribution against the killers. “There’s no time, and we don’t want to mess with any evidence left behind. Besides, I want to make sure the murderers think they left everyone dead in here. I’m sorry.”

  He was right even if she hated him for it. It was bad enough to leave her guards lying in their own blood, but at least they’d known the risks that came with their jobs. Her aunt deserved better. She’d been such a gentle soul.

  Miranda wrapped herself in pure fury. “Whoever did this will die in bits and pieces, Ambrose, and by my hand, Coalition law be damned.”

  His answering smile was all teeth and no joy. “Fine by me, Randi. I’ll even loan you my favorite knife, if you’d like.”

  Despite his use of that awful nickname, his promise of retribution left her feeling better than she had in hours. She ran upstairs to grab the bare necessities while he made his calls. The sooner they were out of the house, the sooner she could exact vengeance for her clan.