She felt his presence as he moved along the sidewalk far below, and she resisted the urge to fly down there and talk to him in person. Her sense of duty and the looming mess with Ronald’s murder drowned out her raging hormones, and she held back. Although, she did peer over the side of the building to get a peek and found him as desirable from six stories above as he was from six inches away.
It would not have been the end of the world if he saw her as she slipped down the hallway and into the room. She could glamour him and the medical examiner, easily erasing any memory, but she didn’t want to do that.
Well, at least, not to him. The doctor was another story entirely. Olivia went to Ronald’s body and tried not to think about drinking that doctor dry. The woman was intensely attracted to Doug because the room was full of the distinct scent of female arousal. Jealousy reared its ugly head again, but Olivia shook it off. No time for bullshit.
She sensed the sun starting its slow ascent, and if she didn’t hustle, then she would have to take the tunnels all the way to the Presidium’s New York offices. No sane woman, living or undead, would want to wear an Armani suit into the tunnels that led to the Presidium’s underground network. She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
Olivia snagged two glass specimen tubes from her pocket, removed the long swabs, and ran them along two of the wounds, first from the neck, and then from the wounds on his arm. She shook her head and cursed. This was most definitely a vamp killing and a vicious one at that. It was sloppy and savage, which gave it the clear markings of a youngling attack.
Someone turned a new vampire, let him or her loose with no training, and didn’t bother to clean up the mess. Great.
After securing her samples, she snagged the travel-size bottle of bleach from her other pocket and squirted it over the wounds, removing traces of vampire DNA. She smirked as she capped the bottle, knowing what a shit storm this would bring on for the doctor. It was petty to take satisfaction in a human woman’s discomfort, but she really didn’t care.
Olivia went to the computer, noticed the doctor had neglected to log out, and deleted all of the files related to Ronald’s case. She grabbed the folder that the doctor had shown Pete and slipped it beneath her jacket.
Olivia tucked the samples in her pocket and listened at the door. Satisfied the coast was clear, she made her way swiftly and silently down the hallway to the stairwell, up the cement staircase, and seconds later arrived at the door of the roof. Even if someone glanced through one of the windows on the doors, they would not have seen her. The surveillance cameras were more of a nuisance, but as long as she moved swiftly, all they would pick up was a blur.
Most people would see the anomaly and brush it off as the light playing tricks. Humans were quick to dismiss anything outside the norm, and those who didn’t would post their videos on YouTube as proof of the existence of ghosts.
The sun was starting to crest. Even if she really hustled, she would never make it back to the Presidium’s offices without getting toasted. Damn it. Olivia popped the lock on the door and swung it open. She stood for a moment in the cool, late spring evening and watched as the pale golden glow emerged along the edge of the horizon.
She missed watching the sunrise and basking in the warmth of it on her face, however, not enough to take a chance of turning to ash. Olivia strode across the roof and glanced at the empty alley six floors below as a grin cracked her face. An eternity of darkness sucked, but the ability to do Superman-type stunts was pretty freaking cool and balanced out the whole no-daylight thing.
Olivia took off her shoes. While she may be unbreakable, the Louboutins weren’t. She dropped soundlessly to the dark alley below and landed on her feet as sure as an alley cat.
As she slipped her shoes back on, the growing noises of the city streets washed over her, and moments later, a distinctly familiar sound snaked into her mind, surrounding her.
Something strong, steady, and enticing.
It was him.
Doug’s heartbeat thundered through her mind, drowning out the rest of the sounds, and captured her full attention. She heard heartbeats of the humans in the surrounding area and had grown so accustomed that over the years it had become white noise.
Not Doug’s. His rose above the din, clamoring to be heard.
Why was his heartbeat so clear and enthralling? It called to her like a siren song, willing her closer and taunting her. Confused and aroused, she struggled to keep her fangs at bay. In all her three hundred years, she’d never shown such a lack of self-control or intense reaction to anyone, and she hadn’t even tasted him yet.
Was this connection a lingering effect of the dreams she had? Was Doug her bloodmate? Or was it an echo from their human life together? They only made love once, that one fateful night, but in the dreamscape it happened over and over.
Memories of them entangled were burned into her mind, her heart, and her body. Images of them in the dreamscape—Doug falling to his knees, burying his face in her breasts, and teasing her to the edge of oblivion with his nimble fingers. Through it all, neither of them ever spoke, and as the dream faded, one word wafted through her mind on a whisper.
Eternity.
Olivia groaned as the sun rose, along with her driving need to taste him. She had to get out of here. Now. Olivia glanced down the alley and spotted the manhole, which was her key to freedom, and promised relief from the taunting, enticing sound of his heart.
She didn’t care if anyone saw her.
Already feeling the weakening effects of the approaching daylight, Olivia ran down the alley as Doug’s heartbeat called to her like a beacon. Her head was fogged with desire and desperation, which was probably why she didn’t see him as he stepped off the sidewalk and directly into her path.
Olivia swore loudly as she knocked him backward toward the street. In a blur, she snatched him in midair and flew with him back into the alley to safety. She pressed his tall, hard body against the wall of the building, using the shadows and a dumpster for cover. The blow knocked him out, but his heart still beat strong and steady beneath warm flesh.
Olivia glanced at the sky and noted it was getting lighter by the second. The sun was rising, and time was running short. She took his face in her hands and brushed her thumb over the stubble on his cheek. The feel of his sun-kissed flesh beneath her fingers had her aching with—what?
Desire? Love? Loss? Regret?
Her gaze skimmed over his masculine features as she threaded her fingers through his short blond hair. That was the only real difference between her memory of him and the man in front of her. His hair had been long and silky smooth, and she recalled the way it tangled temptingly between her fingers.
Olivia leaned closer and reveled in the way his body melded so perfectly with hers. Her breasts crushed against the hard planes of his chest, and the pounding of his heart reverberated through her, invoking memories of what it felt like to have a heartbeat.
She tilted his head to the right and breathed in his clean, masculine scent. Olivia pressed her cool lips along the smooth, warm skin of his throat that fluttered as his blood pumped through his veins. Her fangs vibrated, begging to be freed, but she clung to her last ounce of self-control.
He smelled like the ocean. Clean, fresh, and wild. She bet a year’s worth of blood that he tasted that way too. Just like she remembered.