Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance

  “And what were you, Walker?” Piers asked. “Back in the good old days?”

  “I was a protector of my people.”

  “You were an assassin.”

  “Assassins are paid. I was never paid for killing your kind. I did it for pleasure.”

  “Ditto,” Piers said.

  Christian’s muscles tightened as he watched the two circle each other. Piers opened his coat and placed his hand on the pistol at his thigh. The Walker flung back his cloak and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

  “Nice outfit,” Piers said, “It’s good to see you’re making a real effort to blend in here.”

  Christian sighed. “Piers, could we get to the point here?”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who called this meeting.”

  “No, but as head of the Order you have a duty to listen to emissaries from either side. Hear what he has to say.”

  “Yeah, a duty, right.” Piers frowned. “You know it was a lot more fun in the old days. We could have just drained him dry.”

  “I doubt that very much,” the Walker replied. “I could take you both.”

  Piers stepped forward, showing fully elongated fangs. “You want to try?”

  “Fuck this,” Christian muttered. “Both of you, get a grip.”

  The tension stretched out, straining, humming in the air, until Christian was sure it would snap. Easing his hand beneath his coat, his fingers gripped the knife hilt at his waist. He was unsure if they could take the Walker, but it looked like they were going to find out, and a slow roil of excitement tightened in his gut.

  Piers stepped back. “One day, Walker. One day, I would very much like to try, but perhaps not today. Now, tell me what you want.”

  For a moment, the Walker’s tall figure remained rigid, then the tension drained from him and Christian released his grip on the knife.

  “I seek the Order’s help,” The Walker said.

  Piers laughed. “So you thought you’d try a little charm, did you? Well my friend, you suck at charm. So tell me how can we help the mighty fae?”

  “During the last war the demons stole something from us.”

  Piers raised an eyebrow. “And you want us to get it back?”

  The Walker shook his head. “You promised your help in recovering what the demons stole. We made a deal, we would depart to our lands in peace in exchange for you returning the item to us. You banished the demons, but what they stole was never recovered. You failed.”

  Piers raked a hand through his hair. “Are you going to get to the point?”

  The Walker pursed his lips. “We are giving you a chance to redeem yourselves, to make good on your promise.”

  Piers rolled his eyes. “Did I mention, I hate the fucking fae?”

  Christian decided it was time to take control and get this over with. He would trust Piers to watch his back in a fight any time, but he should have remembered that diplomacy had never been his strong point. “Walker, tell us what the fae require.”

  The Walker nodded. “There is one we seek. One who has the ability to enter both the Abyss and the Faelands.”

  “Is this a demon or a fae? I’ve never heard of someone who can cross both the boundaries.”

  “It shouldn’t be possible. This being is an abomination and needs to be destroyed. We are asking for your help in this matter.”

  “Do you know where they are?”

  “Not yet, but we are hunting them and they will be found. Must be found before the demons discover them, and use them to infiltrate our lands.”

  “They wouldn’t do that,” Christian said. “It would break the Accords and cause another war.”

  “Your faith in the demons is quite amusing,” the Walker replied. “Are you aware that they are targeting you personally?”

  Christian’s eyes narrowed. “You know this? How?”

  “We have our contacts. Have you not lost agents? You must have noticed even with an imbecile in charge.”

  Piers lunged toward him and Christian stopped him with an arm across his chest. “Stop it. Can’t you see he’s trying to wind you up?”

  Piers took a deep breath and relaxed. “You can let me go now, I’m cool.”

  Christian dropped his arm and turned to the Walker. “Let the Order know when you have any information, we’ll see that it’s done.”

  “You pledge the word of the Order on this.”

  “We do.”

  The Walker nodded. “Thank you. You will hear from us soon.”

  He walked away, his figure fading until only a faint drift of mist remained, and soon that, too, was gone.

  Christian stared at the empty rooftop. “Well, that went well. I’m so glad you decided to shelve your personal prejudices and behave in a professional manner.”

  “Fucking asshole. I told you, I can’t stand the fae. Except to eat of course, then I like them a lot.”

  Christian wasn’t interested in the fae right now. Or at least not pure fae. He had a flashback to the taste of Tara’s blood, the unique blend. Bitter and sweet. Demon and Fae. He glanced across to where the Walker had vanished. What did the fae hunt? A being who could travel to both the Abyss and the Faelands. He wasn’t sure there was a connection, but the unease twisted in his gut.

  “You staying here all night?” Piers asked.

  Christian shook his head. He needed to increase Tara’s protection and get someone looking into this abomination of the fae’s. “I’m out of here.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Smokey strolled in through the open door and leapt onto the sofa. Tara was worried about him—he’d been back for brief visits since she’d returned from Yorkshire, but he appeared unsettled. He’d stay for an hour or so, as if reassuring himself that she was fine, and then he’d disappear again.

  He’d never taken to London. In fact, he would probably jump at the chance to return to Yorkshire, if that was what she decided to do.

  She tried to imagine going back to her old life and incarcerating herself in that big gray house on the moors. She knew, in her heart, that it wasn’t an option. Not now that she had sampled life, mixed with people, and had grown to be part of something.

  Besides, it would be a life without Christian, and she was beginning to fear that wasn’t an option either. It had been four days, and she wanted him with a desperation she hadn’t known existed. She could still feel him in her mind, fainter now, at times almost absent, but he was always there, forcing her to remember.

  He’d told her she needed to accept what she was, and she was trying, she really was.

  “I am a demon,” she said to herself.

  Smokey leapt up onto her lap and rasped his rough pink tongue over her hand in sympathy. She couldn’t believe it. Each morning she woke and rushed to the mirror, checking for signs of change, some indication she was something other than human. She’d searched her face and could see nothing even bordering on demonic.

  She tried again. “I am a demon, and I’m in love with a vampire.”

  Smokey hissed and jumped from her lap.

  “You’re right. It’s not good, but this isn’t about being good. It’s about being honest.”

  Smokey cast her a disgusted look and stalked out of the room. She watched him go and frowned. He hadn’t been right since she got back from Yorkshire. She wanted to ask Chloe how he had been while she was away, but Chloe hadn’t been home.

  She must know Tara was back, because she hadn’t been around to feed Smokey, but Tara hadn’t seen a sign of her. She’d gone to her apartment, phoned her cell phone—nothing. Maybe someone had called her away on a family emergency, but Tara was sure she would have left a note. She flicked open her cell phone and tried the number again. It rang but no one picked up.

  She was getting a bad feeling about this, and convincing herself it was simply the demon thing turning her paranoid didn’t make her discomfort go away.

  There had to be a reasonable explanation for Chloe’s absence. She punched Jamie’s number, bu
t he didn’t answer either, and she tossed the phone down in disgust. Chloe had never spoken of her family, so there was no one else Tara could contact.

  Five minutes later, her cell phone rang. It was Jamie.

  “I’m coming right over,” he said and disconnected before she could answer. Tara stared at her phone for a minute then put it down.

  “I am a demon,” she said.

  Jamie arrived within minutes. Tara let him in, feeling a wave of relief she now had someone to share her concerns with—though Jamie was obviously already worried enough on his own. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and his mouth was held in a tight line.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Chloe’s missing.”

  Shock reverberated through her to hear it spoken aloud.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, and Tara swallowed down the fear that rose in her throat.

  “Come through to the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll make us some coffee. You look like you need it.” She put on the coffee maker and turned to face him. He’d slumped on the chair by the table, his head in his hands.

  “Jamie, what is it? What’s happened?”

  His eyes were bleak, and panic clawed at her insides.

  “I think someone’s taken her,” Jamie said.

  “Why should anyone take her?”

  He ran a trembling hand through his already ruffled hair. “We were supposed to see each other the night you came back and she never showed up. I went to her apartment, and there was nobody there. I came around here and nothing. I haven’t been able to reach her on her cell.”

  “Me neither, but I thought maybe she’d gone to visit her family or something.”

  “She wouldn’t, at least not without telling me. We’d become quite close.”

  “I know, she told me.” Tara made the coffee and put a mug down in front of him.

  “I’ve searched for her everywhere. I checked her college—she hasn’t been there. I even managed to track down her mother. She hasn’t heard from Chloe in over a month. I don’t think they’re close, but Chloe definitely wasn’t there.”

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation. We’ve just got to think it through.”

  Jamie shook his head, his expression desolate. “I don’t think so. I think someone has taken her, and it’s all my fault.”

  “How can it be your fault?”

  “I—” He stopped, bit his lip. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter, but I still think she’s in some sort of trouble.”

  “Should we go to the police?”

  “What will they do?” Jamie asked scornfully. “They’ll just tell us she’s over twenty-one and probably off partying somewhere.”

  “And you don’t think she could be?”

  “No!”

  She laid her hand on his arm. The muscles were locked tight under her fingers. “I know she’s not out partying. I was starting to worry myself. So if we can’t go to the police, what can we do?”

  “I think you should go and see Christian Roth.”

  “What?”

  “He’s an investigator, isn’t he?”

  She’d forgotten that, but of course he was, and he had a whole company to call on. They could look for Chloe.

  A wave of excitement washed over at the thought of contacting Christian, and she realized that she’d been subconsciously searching for an excuse to see him again.

  Guilt followed closely on the excitement—that she should get what she wanted because Chloe was missing.

  “Well?” Jamie asked, and she could hear the thread of impatience in his voice.

  She nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  He relaxed, and a slight smile flashed across his face. “Thank you.” He picked up his coffee and drank it quickly. After putting the mug down, he stood, crossed to the window, and stared down at the street. “It’s almost sunset.”

  Tara glanced at him sharply. Why should he have mentioned that? But he didn’t add anything further, just came back and sat down again.

  She picked up her phone but paused before pressing the number. “Do you want to come with me?” she asked.

  “No. I’m going to look a few more places, talk to more people.”

  She spoke to someone on reception at CR International. It wasn’t Graham, but they appeared to recognize her name, and told her to come in that evening. Christian would see her. She put the phone down. “I’ll see him tonight.”

  “Good. I’ll take you over there safely before I go off.”

  “I don’t need an escort.”

  “Yes, you do. Chloe’s missing, and I’m not letting you loose on the streets of London.”

  Tara could have told him she didn’t need an escort because she already had one. Christian had done as he’d promised, and there was at least one person watching her at all times, more than one for the last day. They made no attempt to hide from her, and in fact acknowledged her presence if she left the apartment, then trailed her at a discreet distance.

  The thought of the guards made her think of something else. Could Chloe’s disappearance be tied to what was going on in Tara’s life? It made no sense. At least she desperately hoped it made no sense. She couldn’t bear it if she was the cause of harm to her friend.

  The sun was setting as they came out of the tube station, turning the sky red and tangerine. As they hurried along the embankment, Tara was aware of Christian’s man trailing them, but Jamie seemed oblivious, his mind obviously focused on Chloe. He was clearly rattled and that worried Tara more than anything. He’d always seemed so laid back and relaxed.

  At the glass doors, he kissed her cheek. He appeared so forlorn that she hugged him. “It will be all right. Christian will help us, and together we’ll find her.”

  For a moment, his hands tightened around her then he stepped away and nodded.

  Tara hesitated before the door, a ripple of apprehension running through her. She’d spent so much time thinking about her feelings for Christian but hadn’t considered what Christian’s feelings about her might be. He’d said he wanted her to come to him, but he’d also been angry with her. How did he feel about her now? How would he react to her asking for his help?

  The sky darkened to purple as the sun set behind the tall buildings. Deep in her mind, she sensed another presence. Christian was awake.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Graham grinned as she approached the reception desk.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll get some peace now. Christian’s been a nightmare for the last few days.”

  “He has?”

  “Yeah, on the phone every five minutes to the guys watching you. Must have driven them crazy.”

  She suddenly felt amazingly happy. “He was?”

  He nodded. “I’ll call up and let him know you’re here. He’s in the office.”

  Christian didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her. Seated behind his desk, fingers steepled, face expressionless, his eyes never left her as she walked across the huge expanse of floor. Her nerves tightened with every step, and the excitement building inside her since she’d spoken to Graham oozed away.

  He was beautiful. She had tried not to think too much about him, because she wouldn’t be able to stay away if she did. Now she couldn’t stop staring.

  He seemed to have lost the business suits and with them, any sign of the businessman she’d thought him to be. He looked lean and mean—a hunter, dark and dangerous, and every cell in her body yearned toward him.

  It took a physical effort to come to a halt in front of the desk when all she wanted to do was crawl straight over it and into his lap. For a moment, she seriously considered it, then she glanced into his face; it was cold, stern, and remote.

  Maybe Graham had it wrong and Christian just saw her as some sort of responsibility. Or he’d thought the whole thing through and decided he did hate her after all. Because she was a demon. Horror flashed through her as she searched his expression.

  “Graham sa
id you needed help.” Christian spoke into the silence between them, and she jumped.

  “Sorry?”

  “You have a problem you believe I can help you with.”

  “I do?” She shook her head to get her brain working but couldn’t shift it from the idea of Christian hating her. “Do you hate me?” The question popped out before she could stop it.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “You’ve thought about it haven’t you? About me, I mean, and you’ve decided that I’m some sort of evil demon monster, and you hate me.”

  “Tara,” he said, “what are you talking about?”

  “You and me. You told me to come to you, but now I have, and you’re so cold, and it must be because you’ve realized I’m a monster, like the monsters that killed your family.” She blinked, her eyes stinging. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

  He knocked back his chair and rose to his feet. “Stay where you are.”

  Tara had been about to turn tail and run but, at his words, she stopped. Her eyes ate him up, her fingers itched with the need to reach out and touch him.

  He walked around the desk. As always, the grace of his movements filled her with awe. He stopped in front of her and her eyes searched his face. His expression was no longer blank, but wary.

  He reached for her, his hands gliding across her shoulders, and pulled her to him.

  Tara stood on tiptoes and raised her face for his kiss, and his lips came down on hers with a savage desperation.

  She lost herself in his kiss. Gave up her mind to him, but she needed more. Her hands slid to his hips, up over his lean belly and rib cage. They came to rest against his chest, and the muscles contracted under her touch. She dug her nails into the softness of his shirt, and he went still above her. For a moment, he held her against him, then his hands dropped from her shoulders, and he took a step back.

  “Did that feel like I hate you?” His voice held a ragged edge. She licked her lips to get the last taste of him and shook her head.

  “No, it’s just Graham said—then you seemed so cold and you have every reason to hate me.”

  “I have no reason to hate you.”