Tempted by Blood. Laurie London

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      Doing a little shuffle step, Jackson snapped his fingers and pointed at Mitch. “You seriously need to get laid, my friend.”

      Mitch straightened up and adjusted his leather coat with a quick shrug of his shoulders. “Why do you say that? Not that I’m arguing with you or anything.”

      “If you have to ask, you’re worse than I thought. You’re way too uptight, banging on my door and shit. You need to be banging something else and let me do my thang.” Jackson elbowed his buddy. “Need some help separating a little filly from the herd out there?”

      Mitch shoved him back and laughed. “Don’t you worry about me. I can manage just fine, thank you very much. Speaking of managing, looks like your thang got a little wild in there.” He indicated Jackson’s lip.

      Jackson flicked his tongue out and tasted blood. Mitch probably assumed it was the woman’s but he didn’t bother to set the record straight. It wasn’t as if a sip now and then was against the law.

      “Is that the second or third one tonight?”

      Alarm bells went off in his head. He didn’t want Mitch to think he was taking blood every time he had sex. He shrugged, tried to act casual as he rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand.

      Not long ago, he could stretch it out for two or three days before the energy cravings got too powerful to ignore or the need was triggered by something he didn’t expect. And decades earlier, like most vampires, he’d been able to go for weeks at a time without blood. Something inside him was changing, but he sure as hell didn’t want to know why. He’d need to be more careful next time.

      “Didn’t you get it on with that curvy redheaded chick when we got here?” Mitch continued. “I saw you guys stumble out all lovey-dovey, your hands all over her.”

      He sauntered down the hallway, an extra spring in his step. Goddamn, that chick’s energies felt good. “Couldn’t help it. Got a thing for redheads.”

      Mitch laughed behind him. “And blondes and brunettes.”

      “Hey, I’m all about equal opportunity. Democracy and shit. I like to spread the wealth evenly among the people. It’s only fair.”

      “Sounds like communism to me. Listen. Dom called. He … um … tried calling you directly, but you didn’t pick up. He needs your sweetblood report. Says it’s a week late and that you’re making him look like a lazy ass to Region unless he gets his numbers in soon.”

      Jackson stopped and pulled out his cell.

      Five missed calls—all from his field team leader. Damn. He must’ve been more engrossed back in that room than he thought.

      “How many sweetbloods do you have on your list?” Mitch asked. “If you want, I can do a few of the drive-bys.”

      He thought about the latest addition, a young human girl he’d saved at the Night of Wilding party. He’d always thought that keeping tabs on known sweetbloods was a waste of time—Darkbloods or other vampires would get to them eventually. It was a fate most of them suffered, despite the Guardians’ best efforts to keep them safe. Their addictive blood was almost impossible to resist and commanded the highest price on the black market. But the girl reminded him of his little sister who’d died many years ago. Old feelings of regret welled up but he quickly tamped them down. There was nothing he could do about Betsy now. “Nah, I can do it, but thanks.”

      He hustled down the hallway toward the main part of the Pink Salon, his boot heels pounding on the floor. Better return Dom’s call from outside and see if he could buy a little more time. Although the guy had mellowed out considerably since marrying Mackenzie and starting a family, Jackson didn’t want to chance it. His field team leader had a bitch of a temper if you pissed him off, for which Jackson seemed to have a knack. Plus, he could hold a serious grudge.

      Jackson pushed aside the rows of hanging beads and stepped into the alcove at the side of the dance floor. As usual when someone emerged from the entrance to the ultraexclusive salons, dozens of sets of eyes focused in their direction. He ran a hand through his newly highlighted hair—green and blue streaks this time—and his acute hearing picked up a few female sighs. Yeah, chicks dug the hair. Made picking up women as easy as going through a drive-through.

      His eyes locked onto a pretty thing sitting at the bar. He flashed her a smile, making a mental note to head over there on the way out. Clasping forearms with the muscle-bound bouncer who regulated the comings and goings of the salon, Jackson slipped him some green. “Thanks, Rocky. You’re my guy.”

      “You bet, man,” the human said, nodding appreciatively at the Benjamin before tucking it away. “Anytime. How was the meeting? Enjoy yourself back there?”

      Officially, the Pink Salon referred to them as meeting rooms; Jackson conducted a lot of “business” there. “Always.”

      Although the guy didn’t know Jackson and Mitch were vampires, on some level, he had to have realized there was something special about them. Most humans did. They instinctively reacted by giving them a wide berth or going along with shit. Besides, this place was like a home away from home for Jackson. They played his kind of music, and these were his kind of people—fun-loving, always willing to party and not into heavy conversations.

      He waited as Mitch brushed past him into the crowd and moved out of earshot. Then he turned back to the bouncer. “Hey, that gal I was with? Make sure her friends know she’s crashed back there.”

      Rocky nodded. “You wore her out?”

      “‘Fraid so.”

      He caught up with Mitch threading his way through the dance floor. “Yo, wait up. What’s the hurry.”

      “Come on. We gotta go.”

      “I’m not ready to leave yet.”

      “Seriously, man.” Mitch flicked his arm with the back of his hand. “Don’t you think you should call Dom first? He’s gonna rip you a new one if he doesn’t hear from you.”

      When you know something’s inevitable, why rush it? He considered the list of sweetbloods he still needed to do drive-bys on. Two here in town, one up north and one in an Eastside suburb. Then there was the girl. Mitch was right. He didn’t have time to do it all if he stayed much longer. He’d probably just lose track of time again.

      “Yeah, okay. I’ll call him from the road.”

       CHAPTER TWO

      INTERVIEWING BLAKE AND HIS brother had been a colossal waste of time and now Arianna was late picking up her cousin. She should’ve insisted on meeting Blake at the Devil’s Backbone rather than his house. But because the site was difficult to find and was surrounded by private property, you had to know someone to take you in. Instead, she’d spent the evening trying to pry verbal information from a couple of boys who clearly were better at texting than talking in person.

      She glanced at the glowing hands of the clock on the Caddy’s dashboard. Almost midnight.

      “Come on, Krystal,” she mumbled to herself as she waited in the car parked outside the apartment building. What kind of teenager studied on a Friday night, anyway?

      Warily, СКАЧАТЬ