“Any thoughts?” Office Southcott asked. “Do you know anything about Belladonna? Or who Gloria is?”
“Gloria is my sister. I haven’t seen her in years. And Belladonna?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it.”
She felt a twinge of unease at the lie, but didn’t let it influence her. She was used to lying to the cops. Since she didn’t know whom to trust, she wasn’t going to confide in this one. Suspicion still nagged at her. All she wanted was to get Southcott out of her house as soon as possible.
But first she had to ask all the right questions. It was the least she could do for Téa. “Are you investigating her death? Is it being ruled a homicide?”
“No. We’ve apprehended the man who hit her. Drunk driver, multiple violations. I just wanted to follow up and make sure you got her message. And her warning.” Southcott smiled tightly. “I knew Téa Montgomery. Smart lady. If she’s telling you to stay away from someone, even your sister, I’d listen to her.”
The guy’s condescending grin and know-it-all attitude set Ana’s teeth on edge. “Thank you. I will.”
It was another lie, of course.
Southcott gestured to the boxes she’d packed. “You moving?”
“Yes,” she said. “Not far. I’m buying a place closer to work,” she said.
Southcott just stared at her for a few seconds, then nodded. “Well, you know where to find me if you need me.”
She didn’t reply. Simply walked him to the door and said good-bye, then locked it behind him. Shakily, she leaned back against it and looked around at all the boxes that were packed and ready to move into storage. This sealed it—she was going to find out what Belladonna really wanted from her.
And if Téa’s death had anything to do with it.
With determination, she picked up her phone and dialed the number on the card Ty had given her. She wasn’t surprised when he answered, his voice low and somber. “Hello,” was all he said.
Ana took a deep breath. “Téa Montgomery is dead.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“How could you not tell me that? Did you know when you came to see me yesterday?”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you were already suspicious of me. I thought it best to let you find out when you tried to contact her. Which I knew you’d do.”
“Did you—did you have anything to do with it?”
“No.”
This was it. She had to decide whether she could trust him enough to take the next step. But she’d called him, hadn’t she? In spite of that weird dream she’d had. That proved on some level she’d already made up her mind, even after hearing about Téa’s death.
Her intuition told her that he was waiting for her to confirm that. Ana didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a definite answer just yet.
“Listen, Ty. Right now I’m not making any promises except this. If I find out you’re playing me, if I find out you had anything to do with Téa’s death, you’ll regret it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“So if I join … what happens next?”
“We have to get you to Belladonna without anyone tailing you.”
“Why would anyone want to?”
“Lots of reasons,” he said.
Though she was annoyed by the nonanswer, Ana figured he would fill her in on those later. He’d better or she wouldn’t come in.
“You always have to assume people want something from you,” he continued. “And that they’re willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”
“Does that include you?” she asked, remembering what he’d said in her dream about being more devil than prince.
“It especially includes me.”
CHAPTER
TEN
After leaving Ana Martin’s house, Officer William Southcott finished the second half of his double shift. As he did, he couldn’t keep the little hottie out of his head.
He’d delivered the message as instructed, but damn, he’d wanted to give Ana Martin a whole lot more. She was fine, with a hot little body he had no trouble imagining naked, spread out and helpless. He’d love her to fight him. He’d force her to come for him and punish her if she dared to fake it. His imagination supplied the juicy details. What a sick mind he had, he thought happily.
By the time his shift was over, Southcott was in a state of painful arousal and intent on dealing with it. Not with the woman, of course. She belonged to the boss, whether she knew it or not. It was Southcott’s second job to mete out punishment for anyone who messed with her, and that had even included the lady parole officer with the big mouth. The boss didn’t call on him often, but when he did and Southcott completed what was asked of him, he was generously paid. He wanted to keep getting generously paid.
He also wanted to stay alive.
That, more than anything, made his fantasies about Ana Martin exactly that.
But still … he’d never actually been that close to her before. Had never actually talked to her. There was something about her, something that had made keeping his hands off her damn difficult, even though he’d recently shot a man between the eyes for failing to do just that.
With a shake of his head, Southcott unlocked his apartment door, secured his weapon, and showered. There, he took his desire for Ana Martin in hand, spilling his seed in a pathetically short amount of time. He was about to go at it again when his shower door was abruptly and violently yanked open.
“Jesus Christ,” he shouted, body jolting and eyes widening when he saw who loomed in front of him. Fear didn’t even begin to describe the sensation that shot through him. His bladder released, combining urine with the semen and water swirling down the drain, but he managed to sound fairly commanding when he said, “What—what the hell are you doing here?”
His boss was normally calm, cool, and collected, but now looked feral. Crazed. Why?
“I came for an update on your visit with Ana Martin.”
Despite his fear, Southcott forced himself to frown. To maintain a strong front even in the face of someone so much stronger. “And you couldn’t wait until I was out of the fucking shower?”
“Not when I knew what you were doing. Who you were doing it to. You’re psychotic, Southcott, which sometimes suits my purposes just fine. I don’t care about the others you’ve hurt so long as you follow my orders. But this is different. I saw your thoughts. I saw what you were doing. You were hurting her. You were defiling her.”
Southcott’s mouth went dry. “That was all in my head. I didn’t actually touch her.”
“You don’t get to have fantasies about her!”
The vampire stepped into the shower, eyes menacing. Intent clear.
Despite himself, Southcott trembled and took several useless steps back. “It wasn’t real. You can’t kill me for thoughts I can’t control.” He was shaking, his words pitched high with fear. His gun. He needed his gun …
“You’re not thinking clearly, Officer Southcott, or you’d remember your gun won’t do you any good. And to the contrary, I can kill you for any reason I deem fit. You jacking off to thoughts of Ana while you hurt her? That’s a good enough reason for me.”
As pain ripped through Southcott’s body, his last thoughts were of the man he’d shot between the eyes. And the knowledge that his death wasn’t going to come as quickly or as easily.
Part 2: The Team
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Belladonna Compound
Washington, D.C.