The Vampire's Desire Read online

  He dragged his gaze away from the desire flickering in her eyes and back to the report on the computer. “So, you were saying?”

  “You said the report confirmed our statement about the nature of the property involved. How does that translate as significant?” She leaned closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his.

  As much as he liked the feel of her skin on his, it wasn’t helping him concentrate. On the other hand, he wasn’t about to break off the small contact. Time to get this mess straightened out, the bad guys rounded up, and the paperwork filed. Then, and only then, would the two of them be free to pick up where they’d left off.

  “I’m thinking that the land was a smokescreen, meant to distract us all from the real agenda, which was to get all the targets in one place at the same time.” He sat back and let Miranda think that much through.

  After a bit, she nodded. “That makes sense, but who else was a target? Besides me, that is. My aunt?”

  “She might’ve been, but definitely you. And me, although I’m not sure about that one. Considering the high-ranking nature of your clan, it was likely I’d take on the case myself, but there was no guarantee of that. It all depended on what other cases were pending at the time.”

  “But if you weren’t a target from the beginning, why try to kill you now? They had to know an attack on you would bring the whole weight of the Coalition and the other Chancellors down on their heads. And what about the third member of the negotiations? Has there been any type of attack on Kurt or his family?”

  “Not so far as I know. Of course, if the attempt was unsuccessful and his security handled it themselves, we might not have heard.”

  Ambrose smiled, his fangs running out in anticipation of a battle to come. She knew that while he might choose to wear the trappings of civilization, underneath that thin veneer beat the heart of a warrior with pure predator instincts. Luckily, Miranda not only admired those particular traits, but shared them.

  She gave him a wolfish smile of her own. “So what do we do next?”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “I think it’s time to pay a courtesy call on Kurt and company with, oh, maybe a dozen or so of my men. You know, a show of concern because of the attacks on the two of us. I think it’s the least we can do.”

  In a surprise move, Miranda straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know, I really like the way your mind works.”

  “Just my mind?” he asked, knowing she couldn’t miss that other parts of him were definitely in fine working order at the moment.

  She used her fangs to gently nibble her way along his jawline. “I may have developed a certain affection for one or two other parts. Do you think we might have time for an in-depth discussion about which ones right now?”

  He laughed, liking her ability to tease despite everything else that was going on. “We could maybe hit the high points and go for a deeper understanding later.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She leaned in to kiss him, moaning softly when he let his hands do some exploring.

  He was going to suggest adjourning back to the bedroom to continue the discussion when all hell broke loose. The window across the room shattered, only the tattered remains of the shutters protecting them from the flying shards of glass.

  As someone outside continued to strafe the front of the house, Ambrose quickly upended the table to give them another layer of protection. Miranda joined him in diving for cover without being told. But before he could formulate a plan of escape the back door exploded, leaving them vulnerable to attack from two directions.

  Ambrose jumped back up to his feet, prepared to face their enemies with his bare hands if necessary, anything to keep Miranda safe. She pushed herself up off the floor to stand at his side, leaving them both room to maneuver. He couldn’t resist a quick look in her direction, knowing it might be their last few seconds together. Damn, but she was magnificent with her flaming red hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes bright with battle fever and her fangs bared for the fight they both expected to come.

  But it didn’t. Instead, a canister was lobbed through the back door at the same time another crashed through the shredded remains of the shutters. As soon as the two cans clattered to the floor, the hiss of an aerosol spray filled the room. He recognized the gas by scent. Low concentrations would only knock them out, but higher ones could be fatal, leaving them to die gasping for breath. If the two of them made it to the door, they’d likely die in a spray of bullets and blood.

  Not much in the way of choices. He groped for Miranda’s hand, knowing that if he had to die, he wanted his last memory to be of her.

  “I’m sorry, Randi,” he managed to choke out as his lungs filled up with the noxious scent of death. “I love…”

  Before he could finish the words, darkness took him and sent him crashing to the floor.

  Chapter 7

  Miranda’s entire world narrowed to alternating waves of pain and nausea. She knew she should move; her life might very well depend on it, but she couldn’t bring herself to try again so soon. Not when the cold surface she was lying on continued to rock and roll every time she flexed even the smallest of muscles.

  What the hell had happened? While she waited for the fuzz in her brain to clear, she risked opening one eye. Slowly. The only thing she could see in the dimly lit room was a man’s boot. By twisting her head ever so slightly and opening her other eye, she was able to recognize the boot and the leg it was attached to—both belonged to Ambrose.

  She said his name, which came out sounding like a frog croaking. She tried again. “Ambrose?”

  The boot stirred. “Randi, are you waking up?”

  Now wasn’t the time to quibble about his nickname for her. “Yes, although the way I’m feeling, I’m not sure I want to.”

  She considered her options and finally settled for rolling onto her back. Okay, that didn’t work because her hands had been tied behind her. Bracing herself for the worst, she pushed and shoved until she managed to sit upright. Once again the world spun for a few seconds, but not as long this time. So far, so good. At least this way, she could see Ambrose better.

  He looked worse than she felt. On the other hand, they were both alive—for the moment at least. That actually came as a bit of a surprise, considering everything that had happened so far. Their luck had to run out eventually.

  “Where are we?” It hurt to talk. The gas they’d inhaled had burned like acid, leaving her throat raw and her lungs sore.

  Ambrose shrugged and then winced in pain. “Don’t know. Don’t know how we got here, either.”

  A third party joined the conversation, coming from somewhere in the shadows across the room. “You’re in my basement.”

  As she struggled to place the voice, Ambrose got there ahead of her. “Kurt? Are you crazy? Do you know what the Coalition will do to you for kidnapping Miranda, not to mention me?”

  The human male’s answer to that was a bitter laugh. “Nothing would be my guess, considering I’m tied up just like you are. The only difference is that I’ve been down here since yesterday, while you two only got here about an hour ago.”

  Miranda scooted across the floor to seek the comfort of being next to Ambrose and to present a united front against a common enemy. As soon as she could, she bumped her shoulder against his, drawing soothing warmth from his powerful body.

  “So what’s going on, Kurt?” Ambrose definitely sounded more alert than he had a few seconds before. “Who put you down here?”

  The human snarled, “One of your boys, Chancellor. He came into my house saying he needed my signature on a pile of papers from you. When I turned to get a pen, he hit me on the back of the head with something. Judging by my headache, I’d say he came damn close to cracking my skull.”

  “Guess again, Kurt. I didn’t send anyone to see you. If I had needed your signature, I would have gotten it while we were at dinner. After that, I was too busy avoiding being blown up to think about work.”

&n
bsp; Despite the dim light, it was clear that Kurt didn’t believe a word Ambrose had just said. He probably wouldn’t believe her, either, but she had to try.

  “I can testify to the truth of what he says, Kurt. While you were at dinner with Ambrose, someone attacked my house and killed several members of my household. Ambrose came by to see why I had stood the two of you up for dinner and found me. Right after that, his town house was bombed. Whoever is behind these attacks tracked us down again and knocked us out with some kind of chemical. We woke up here.”

  “Also keep in mind that not all Chancellors work for me.” Ambrose shot her a questioning look. “Some work for the clans in various capacities. Don’t they, Miranda?”

  Who was he thinking about? Then it hit her—Alroy. Her Chancellor cousin lived in New Eire because of his antagonistic relationship with the elders in the clan. She’d always thought he didn’t extend that hostility toward her. For sure he’d always gotten along with their aunt. It was hard to believe that Alroy would have been party to killing her, but his presence certainly helped explain how the attackers managed to catch her guards unawares. They wouldn’t have questioned Alroy’s stopping by to visit.

  She stared at Ambrose. “If he’s involved, I’ll kill him myself.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Kurt demanded.

  Even if the pieces were starting to fit together, she hated accusing Alroy with no proof. But when Ambrose gave her a pointed look, she reluctantly told the human, “My cousin Alroy is a Chancellor and lives here in New Eire. His scent was at my house, but that doesn’t prove anything because he works for my aunt.” Her voice cracked on that last part, but at least she managed to hold back the tears.

  “What’s he look like?” Kurt had moved closer, despite being tied up just as they were.

  She closed her eyes and pictured her cousin as she’d last seen him. “Tall, red hair a few shades darker than mine, pale gray eyes.”

  Kurt started nodding at the mention of Alroy’s hair color. “That’s him.”

  “I’m sorry, Randi,” Ambrose whispered.

  Her heart hurt. “I know.”

  Memories of their shared childhood flooded her mind, reminding her of how Alroy’s bright smile and mischievous nature had slowly faded into bitterness as they’d grown older. Neither of them had understood why she was their grandparents’ favorite, when Alroy was older and male. Eventually someone had made it clear to Alroy that his mixed blood had cost him what he saw as his rightful place in the family hierarchy. He’d left the estate shortly after that without even saying goodbye.

  She’d missed him but also knew that seeing her only reminded him of how much he’d lost. The boy she’d known wouldn’t have lifted a hand to hurt another, but she didn’t know the man he’d become.

  But now wasn’t the time for regrets or recriminations. They had to get free before their captors came back. Considering how close they’d come to dying already, there was no reason to think that whoever was behind the attacks wanted any of them to live long enough to seek revenge.

  She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, gentlemen, what do we do next?”

  Once again Miranda amazed him. That her cousin had come after her with murder in mind had to be a crippling blow, but she was still in the game, ready to do battle with their enemies. First, though, they had to get free of their bonds. Until they did, they were at the mercy of the first person through the door at the top of the steps.

  “Randi, can you move your hands at all?”

  “A little.” She leaned forward and wiggled her fingers to show him. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Unfasten my belt. I keep something there you need right about now.” Then he winked at her. “I have a knife in the buckle.”

  It felt good to hear her laugh as she scooted around to move her hands within reach of his buckle. With her limited mobility it took several attempts for her to get the belt unfastened. He talked her through pulling the blade free from its sheath.

  She was a bit breathless by the time she’d pulled the knife clear of his belt without cutting either one of them. “Nifty trick, Ambrose.”

  “Yeah, well, here comes the tricky part. You need to cut me free so I can do the same for you.”

  “How about me?” Kurt demanded as he scooted across the floor to join them.

  “First I get her free, then you, but only if I decide we can trust you.” Ambrose looked around the dingy basement. “Where’s your wife?”

  “Out with her cousin,” Kurt snapped, jerking his head toward Miranda. “Seems Otka thinks I’m not strong enough to rule the clan. Once I’m dead, she and the Chancellor plan on taking over from her father.”

  “That isn’t going to happen, not if we can help it. They killed my people. They’re going to die for that.” Miranda glared at the human, but then softened her expression. “I’m sorry, Kurt. This has to be hard for you.”

  She shifted the knife in her hand. “Now walk me through this, Ambrose.”

  “I will. We’re going to have to do this by feel, since neither one of us can see what we’re doing.” He pulled his hands as far apart as the plastic ties would stretch, which wasn’t far. Barely a blade’s width.

  Kurt inch-wormed closer. “I’ll talk you through it, Miranda. Just go slow.”

  Ambrose braced himself and did his best not to flinch as she worked the blade back and forth, following Kurt’s directions with only a minor mishap or two. The whole process couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, even though it seemed to take forever. When his hands were finally sprung free, Ambrose took the knife from Miranda and cut her loose. He hesitated briefly, then sliced through Kurt’s bonds, as well.

  After rubbing the feeling back into his hands, he asked the human, “Got any weapons stashed someplace close by?”

  Kurt nodded. “I have some handguns locked up in the bedroom closet, unless Otka and her buddies took them all. Otherwise, I keep another one under my pillow.”

  At least that was a place to start. Time to call in reinforcements. “Where’s the nearest phone?”

  “In the kitchen at the top of the stairs.”

  “Okay, I’ll lead the way. Miranda, you follow Kurt.”

  Ambrose gave her a pointed look to cut off her protest. He didn’t trust the human and needed her to keep an eye on him while Ambrose had his back to him. She slowly nodded.

  Armed with only the one knife, they started for the staircase. He hadn’t gotten very far when he heard footsteps overhead. Ambrose froze briefly before slowly backing down the steps. His two companions followed suit, retreating to the far corner of the basement.

  “What next?” Kurt demanded. “You’re not going to do much with that pathetic little knife.”

  Miranda turned on him. “Shut up, human! Without that knife, we’d all still be trussed up and waiting to die. At least we stand some chance of getting free.”

  “Not much of one.”

  Ambrose really wanted to smack the guy, but now wasn’t the time for feuding amongst themselves. There’d be time for that later if they survived the next few minutes.

  He grabbed Kurt by the front of his shirt and got right in the man’s face, flashing his fully extended fangs for emphasis. “You will do exactly as I say. Got that?”

  Kurt stared at Ambrose’s impressive dentition and swallowed hard. They both knew that Ambrose could rip out Kurt’s throat in seconds. And if he didn’t get the job done, Miranda would.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “From the stairs, they can’t see the corner where they left you tied up. You’ll put on my jacket and pretend to be me. As long as you keep your back to them, they shouldn’t notice the difference immediately. I’ll be waiting under the stairs.”

  Ambrose was peeling off his jacket even as he spoke. After tossing it to Kurt, he turned his attention to Miranda. “You’ll have to pretend to be tied up and unconscious, too. Are you all right with that? There’s not much chance of this succeedi
ng, but it’s the best I can come up with.”

  She didn’t waste time on a lot of words, using their last few seconds to give him a quick kiss before saying, “Go get ’em, big guy. Just save a little of the retribution for me.”

  “Randi, you know I…”

  The words choked off his breath, but she smiled. Her fingers traced his mouth, her eyes burning warm. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

  He kissed her again, knowing they were running out of time, maybe for good, but at least she knew how he felt. And wonders of wonders, she loved him back. Strengthened by the gift of Miranda’s words, he stepped away from her and prepared to face their enemy.

  She and Kurt hurried to assume their positions while Ambrose worked his way between the boxes piled directly under the stairs. He gripped his knife, ready for the deadly dance to begin.

  Chapter 8

  The second step down creaked loudly, echoing through the basement. Ambrose struggled to control his breathing, not wanting to give away his location before the enemy was in striking distance.

  He counted the heartbeats coming from above him on the stairs, praying that Alroy and Otka had come alone. They’d obviously hired muscle to help with the assaults against Miranda’s clan, as well as against him. But if they had any brains at all, they would have engaged their services through a third party with little or no direct contact.

  One…two…three. So they did have an accomplice with them. So be it. He’d faced worse odds before, although never with the woman he loved in the line of fire.

  The first person reached the bottom stair—male, judging by the weight of his steps. He paused briefly before stepping out into the room. The other two quickly followed, but were careful to remain behind him.

  “Why do we have to be here, Josiah? Just kill them, but make it look like they shot each other. We’re not to be implicated, or you don’t get paid.”

  “Shut up, woman. And I told you not to use my name.”

  Ambrose recognized Otka’s petulant voice, but Josiah was a stranger to him. Not that the bastard was going to live long enough for them to become well acquainted. Ambrose waited until they moved far enough into the room for him to get a good jump from behind them. One of the boxes toppled over as he lunged out of his hiding spot. It slowed his attack enough that all three of the newcomers had time to spot him before he reached Josiah.