Beyond the Grave Read online

  "How'd you get that? Jess never goes anywhere without it,” Britt said.

  A sudden gut-kicking realization struck him. “No way, Sampson. You didn't find that dagger in the victim."

  "Not in her, no. Beneath her. Evidence suggests Jess dropped it in the heat of the moment."

  "You can't honestly believe Jess Vandermire killed that girl? You've known her longer than I have. You know what kind of a person she is, and there's no way in hell she'd ever do anything like that."

  "Not normally. But she's got a dark side, too, Britt. A side she's managed to keep at bay for years, but who knows what might set her off? She is what she is, after all."

  Britt's hand clenched into a fist, and he nearly raised his arm to punch Sampson. How dare he say such things?

  "Sampson, I'm going to forget you just said that, but just this once,” Britt said through clenched teeth. “But if I ever hear you say anything like that again, I won't be responsible for my actions."

  Sampson sighed. “Of course, I don't want it to be Jess. And until we can prove who did this, she's innocent. On the other hand, it is my duty to look at all angles. This is her dagger. There's no denying that. How'd it get here?"

  "I don't know how the hell it got here,” Britt spat so loudly that several of the cops turned to look at him. He lowered his voice. “But, if you breathe one word of this to anyone! Anyone, before I find out what the truth is, I swear, Sampson, I'll gut you myself."

  Sampson actually laughed. “Good. Jess really knew what she was doing when she hired you. Prove her innocent. Please.” Sampson handed over the dagger.

  Britt's eyebrows arched, but he grabbed the weapon out of Sampson's hand before he could change his mind. “You aren't going to turn it in as evidence?"

  "Turn what in?” Without a backward glance, Sampson shrugged and moved away.

  Britt pressed his eyes shut and sucked in a lung full of city air, then wished he hadn't. Tonight the city reeked of death and foul things that crept through the streets after dark. He'd give his next paycheck for a whiff of Jess's tantalizing perfume right about now.

  * * * *

  Her cab pulled in front of a brick building. Still royally pissed off that she'd been ordered to come here, Jess had to concentrate to keep her teeth from growing. She'd be the last person who should act as a public relations suck up.

  A sigh escaped her. A wasted pun and Regent was nowhere nearby.

  She stared at the building again and frowned. “This the Dragon's Lair Club?” she asked the cabbie.

  "Yeah. They don't go for the obvious,” he said in a strong Brooklyn accent.

  "Why would a club not advertise their location?” The place looked more like an office building than a club.

  He tipped his hat back and turned to look at her suspiciously. “Cause it's exclusive. They don't let people like me inside.” The way he looked her over made her wonder if he thought the same thing about her.

  "Thanks,” she said, slapping the money into his outstretched hand.

  She'd been way too edgy since her episode with Britt. Not just because she'd nearly sunk her fangs into his neck, but also because she'd lost the opportunity to experience making love with the only man she'd ever allowed herself to care for in the fifty years since her dark curse began.

  Now she'd ruined that opportunity forever.

  Inside the building, at the end of a long hallway, a doorman beckoned her forward with two fingers. “Card please.” His voice droned. Even though he sounded bored, he was anything but. His sharp gaze raked over her and she had the distinct impression he knew exactly who she was before he looked at her card. The fact that he had a significant bulge under his right armpit made Jess a little more interested in finding out what Vaslov was up to.

  Inside the crowded club she spotted Lieutenants Koss and Ballard waving at her from the far side of the room.

  She walked toward them, ignoring the lascivious comments from some of the men along the way. Mostly because she wasn't supposed to be able to hear what they whispered under their breath.

  Strange how men thought she was beautiful now that she was dead. Physically she hadn't changed, but she'd become dangerous—and dark. Why were men attracted to bad girls?

  "Nice spot,” she said facetiously, sliding onto the bar stool next to her counterparts.

  "Too nice for the likes of us,” Jarrod sipped a Scotch on the rocks. “What are we doing here, anyway?” He leaned closer. “And, what do you think of the specialized security they've got here? The doorman was packing, and so are several of the waiters."

  "I'll tell you what I think,” Brian Koss made a disgusted noise, “It makes me suspicious."

  "And, why would Vaslov invite us and not the brass?” Jess said as she turned to scan the room from her bar stool.

  "Good question. Not to mention I'm giving up a night on stakeout in a dank, derelict building to sip free booze tonight.” He grinned and savored another drink of his Scotch.

  "Believe me I'd rather be in a derelict building than pretending I belong in a place like this. At least on the street, I know where I stand,” Jess said.

  Brian nodded his agreement. “Why were you so late arriving? Our host asked about you twice,” He leaned one arm against the bar and stared at her. Waited for her response. As if she owed him one.

  "Really? What's this guy like? Is he as full of himself as most people with more money than brains?"

  Jarrod choked on his whiskey just as Jess caught Vaslov in her peripheral vision. She clamped her teeth together. How the hell did Drago Vaslov get this close without her senses warning her? It shouldn't have happened.

  She met Vaslov's gaze and allowed a cool, disinterested smile, effectively letting him know she wasn't intimidated by his position or his wealth. Or by the fact that he'd caught her unawares.

  He wasn't quite as handsome as he'd looked in the papers. There was an underlying aura of a man who'd been on the mean streets, a man who'd adopted the air of sophistication. She'd bet her badge his poise was an act. In fact, besides vampires, not many people could give that wordless look of control with the impact he did. Points to him.

  "I've always appreciated people who aren't afraid to speak their mind,” he said, a hint of dry humor in his voice. “It gets boring if everyone agrees with my every word."

  Jess very much doubted there was any truth in his statement. He didn't look like he'd brook insubordination.

  Vaslov smiled at her smoothly. Too smoothly. And even though he nodded to the two cops behind her, he didn't take his eyes off her. “Of course once you get to know me better, I'm hoping you'll find that I do have the brains to back up the wealth."

  She gritted her teeth and decided his strong cologne wasn't the only thing in the room that stunk.

  The fact remained that he could ruin an officer's career if he really wanted to, and being human, Drago couldn't hear Jarrod's erratic breathing behind her. Knowing Jarrod, he'd be panicking, afraid she'd do something to disgrace the Department. Like most of her fellow police officers, Jarrod didn't know she was a vampire, but he did know she had a temper that shouldn't be meddled with.

  "Look, Mr. Vaslov,” she began.

  "Please, call me Drago.” His hand held hers in his firm grip. “I've heard a lot about you, Captain Vandermire. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

  "Mr. Vaslov.” She ignored his request to call him Drago. “On behalf of the Department, we appreciate the invitation. I'm sure we're keeping you from your guests, though. We'll just have a drink, pay our bill and then be off."

  "No need to pay for your drink, it's on the house and please, please, don't hurry away. I've been hoping to get to know you a little better, Jess. May I call you, Jess?"

  "We can't accept the drink without paying for it, as I'm sure you know.” She looked back at her two colleagues, who'd pretty much faded into the background. They didn't want to do anything to disrupt the almighty Vaslov.

  "Why did you want to meet me?” She returned her a
ttention to Vaslov and frowned.

  "I've heard about you through the grapevine. You're well respected by your co-workers."

  That was one way to put it. She scared the hell out of most of them. “Really? If you'd be so kind as to tell me who mentioned me to you, I'd like to thank them.” Her co-workers were Black Ops. They didn't talk about each other, or their job. If they did, they'd be history. Someone's ass would be on the line over this.

  His pupils contracted. He obviously didn't like her reply. Even though his mask remained firmly in place, he couldn't control his pupils. Mr. Vaslov had a tell.

  "Excuse me, sir, you're wanted on the phone.” A tall waiter in a tuxedo nervously held a phone in his hand. Drago looked extremely irritated by the interruption and made no attempt to accept the phone. “Tell whomever it is I'll call them back."

  The uncomfortable employee cleared his throat but remained where he was. In fact, he looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else than here at the moment. “I think you'll want to take this call now, sir."

  Drago looked directly at Jess, and his expression softened perceptibly.

  Apparently he could bullshit as good as the best of them.

  "Please forgive me. It appears I'll have to take this call."

  "By all means,” she said, glad of the interruption. Now she had the perfect opportunity to nose around a little then make herself scarce. She'd be long gone before Vaslov got back.

  He smiled at her stiffly, turned and, snatching the phone from his employee, stalked off, no longer trying to hide his irritation.

  "I thought he'd never leave,” she said and slid off the bar stool. “Catch you two later."

  Jarrod sputtered but didn't get a cohesive word out before she was out of his range. Jess grinned. He was such a straight arrow.

  Public washrooms were down a hall toward the back of the building. That gave her an excuse to explore. She found three office doors locked with electronic key codes. That alone, was enough to pique her already escalating curiosity about Mr. Vaslov's business and his interest in her and NYC's finest.

  She could easily rip the doors open and break the locks but decided against it. She'd come back after the club closed and take a really good look.

  Slipping through the rear exit door, she found herself in a garbage strewn alley. She wrinkled her nose. Sometimes, having superior olfactory senses didn't pay off. Especially at times like this.

  A scuffling noise near the end of the alley gained her attention.

  "A pleasure to see you again, Jess."

  Startled by the unexpected voice, she grabbed for her dagger, tucked into a sheath in the small of her back. What the hell? Her dagger wasn't there. She always had it with her.

  With feet balanced for attack and her arms extended, she scanned the alley for the unseen bearer of the voice. It would be an understatement to say she was pissed that she had let someone get this close—again. Proof that she wasn't quite right tonight.

  Then, without warning, a wave of dizziness sped through her. She reached out and grabbed the side of the nearest Dumpster. With waves of nausea twisting her insides and the world tilting, she finally saw someone standing on the opposite side of the alley.

  She blinked and tried to focus. Not a vampire as far as she could tell, but then her senses weren't working very well. No way could she be sure what species he belonged to. Vampire or mortal?

  "Do we know each other?” There was something not quite right about his features. His skin had an unnatural sheen. The color was off, and his facial features barely moved when he spoke.

  "I've waited a long time for this,” he said. Even though his tone remained casual, there was an underlying terseness that gave his true emotions away.

  She took several deep breaths and tried to shake the weird feelings catapulting through her. She was a vampire, for God's sake. She never got dizzy, or queasy.

  What if getting too close physically to Britt had made her weak? After all, she'd had the dream when they were in bed. If only they'd had enough time to make love before she'd gone into stasis. Britt had wanted her to stay. Wanted to be with her when she woke up. Staying with him had proven how much she trusted him and loved him. At least it should have—before she tried to drain him of his precious blood. It couldn't happen again.

  "You shouldn't be nasty to me, Jess, especially after all we've meant to each other,” the strange person said.

  Jess laughed, hoping it would make him angry. “If you know what's good for you you'll piss off, right now.” She worked up as much strength as she could muster and pushed herself off the Dumpster, straightened her back and walked toward him, projecting an image of strong vampire.

  Another wave of dizziness wormed through her. After fifty years of perfect health she was at a disadvantage. Unable to stop herself, she moaned and felt the earth tilt again.

  Dear God, it wasn't possible for her to pass out!

  Everything went black.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER THREE

  An hour later, when Britt got home from his meeting with Sampson, he pulled Jess's dagger out of the evidence bag and turned it over in his hands. How the hell had it surfaced at a crime scene? And why hadn't Jess noticed it missing? She never went anywhere without it.

  If she found out about her dagger being discovered beneath a victim, there'd be no dissuading her from believing she killed that woman. Especially since she was sure she must have slipped out of his apartment when she had the nightmare.

  A dull ache began to build behind his eyeballs. His cell phone rang and he grabbed it off his belt. “Lieutenant Brittain speaking."

  "Britt, it's me, Regent. Can you come to the Rectory immediately?"

  It seemed someone was always phoning him with bad news lately, and by the tone in Regent's voice, this call was no different. “What's up, Regent?"

  "Something's wrong with Jess. I'm not sure how to handle it by myself. She needs you here right away. After all, you're her protector now."

  Jess had never agreed to Britt being her protector, but it wasn't the time to quibble with her distraught brother. “What's going on? Is Jess okay?"

  "I think so. But, Britt, there's something you should know before you get here.” Regent sucked in a shaky breath. “She's unconscious."

  Already halfway down the hall and jogging towards his car, Britt yelled, “Unconscious?” His blood began pumping in his ears. “How could that happen? Another vampire?"

  "I'm not sure. There are no marks on her."

  "I didn't think vampires could pass out without a reason.” A reason like being burned with holy water. Britt cringed when he remembered how badly he'd inadvertently burned Jess once.

  "Neither did I,” Regent said.

  Those words terrified Britt. Regent had stood by Jess for fifty years. He'd been her protector, and he understood her condition more than anyone, except Jess, herself. “I'm on my way."

  "Right.” Regent hesitated. “One other thing, Britt. When Jess comes to, don't tell her I called you.” He hung up.

  Britt slapped the siren onto the roof of his car and nearly broke the sound barrier on the way to Saint Eugenia. He slammed the brakes on at the Rectory and tore inside as if the hounds of hell were after him. He didn't bother to knock but made straight for Regent's office. They'd be there. It was their safe place.

  As he opened the office door, he saw Regent leaning over Jess on the settee. Dear God! Was Regent delivering last rights?

  The old priest twisted around when Britt barreled into the room.

  "Oh, hi, Britt. What a coincidence that you stopped by right now,” Regent said trying to sound surprised by Britt's entrance, but failing miserably. Thank God, Jess's eyes were open, even if she was scowling at Regent.

  "Jess isn't feeling very well,” Regent continued. “I found her unconscious on the couch in my office a few minutes ago. She woke up shortly after. I've been able to get a little sustenance into her to help her come around."

&nb
sp; Jess held an empty packet of blood the size of a frozen ice treat in one hand. She shakily ran the other one over her hair. “She's also in the room so you can stop talking about me as if I'm not here."

  Britt's heart tightened painfully. He'd never seen her look so physically weak, but she still had the capacity to crank up his interior thermostat and set his libido on overdrive with just one look. From the sable hair dusting her shoulders, to her beautiful ivory skin and blood red lips, she made his insides twist with a mere glance.

  "Oh for Lord's sake, you two. Will you stop looking at me as if I'm about to turn into a pile of dust? I'm fine,” she said.

  Regent sighed. “She's as cantankerous as ever, if that's any sign.” He didn't smile, but the relief in his faded, old eyes told Britt what he wanted to know. Jess would be okay. If anyone could judge that, Regent could.

  As soon as Regent moved, Britt sat on the end of the couch near Jess's feet. She instantly pulled her legs up so she wouldn't touch him. He clenched his teeth. Obviously, she still hadn't forgiven him and he couldn't blame her. He'd acted like an idiot when he thought she'd bitten him.

  "How'd you say I got here, Regent?” Jess asked.

  Concern etched Regent's forehead and his worried gaze flicked to Britt. “I don't know. I found you lying on the couch a few minutes ago."

  Jess pushed herself up as if she'd had enough of being under the weather, only this time her lips drained of their color, and her pallor got worse.

  "Forget pretending you're okay, Jess. Lie back down before you pass out again,” Britt said.

  "I do not pass out. I'm a vampire, for God's sake."

  "Yeah, I know, but even hard-asses have times when they have to listen to others. Regent, do you think we should call Sampson? Have him come over and take a look at Jess?"

  Regent sucked in a loud breath. “Sampson! Of course. I should have thought of him right away."

  Jess frowned. “Okay, this is ridiculous. I do not need a doctor."

  Regent held up a hand and she stopped her rant mid-sentence. “Jess, I think Britt's right, but I'll go along with your wishes. Just be warned, if you don't want Sampson, I consider it my responsibility to make up something to help you. A drink or a poultice? I have no idea how to make up a concoction for this situation, since it has never happened before, but maybe something for you to drink would be best?” He tapped one finger on his upper lip pensively, then began to rummage in a drawer in the corner cabinet.