A Dark Kiss Of Rapture

CHAPTER 3

When he was asked later what drew him to the small jazz club in an upscale part of Chicago, Raze didn’t have an answer. The place wasn’t his style with its small round tables, live singer, and elegant patrons. But he’d been drawn to it and the sultry voice of the female entertainer that floated into the street on the night breeze. Maybe because it was so different from the hard-edged clubs Torque helmed that gave fledglings a safe place to find blood and sex, and-most importantly-register their name and sire for the records. Raze thought maybe what he needed was a palate cleanser. Something different.

Damn it. He was restless and unsettled. He could barely stand to be in his hotel room. Even with the television on and the internet at his fingertips, he felt isolated and stifled. He was beginning to wonder if Baron’s bullet had been tainted in some way. It wasn’t like him to… brood. As endless as his life was, he still didn’t have time to waste being a pain in his own ass.

He paid the club’s cover charge and went inside, discovering a small open space with rust colored walls adorned with massive impressionist canvases. Pendant lights offered intimate illumination, except for at the bar, where the blue glass shelves were lit with bright white light. The floor was covered in multicolored mosaic tiles and patrons danced freely wherever they found an open space, giving the whole establishment a comfortable bohemian feel.

Sliding onto a barstool, he noted the bartender. The lovely blonde on point looked like she just might be what he needed with her sleeves of tattoos, low-slung leather pants, and curvy body. Her hair hung in dreadlocks to her waist and was held back from her delicate face with a black bandana. She glanced at him, looked away, then immediately glanced back. She licked her pierced lower lip and made her interest known with a heated glance.

When she’d finished serving her customer, she came over. “What’s your poison?”

“Shiraz.”

Her brows rose. “Really? Wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine drinker.”

“No?”

“No. Jameson, maybe. Or Glennfiddich.” She poured expertly and set the glass in front of him. “In the mood for something else?”

His fingertips slid lightly up and down the stem of his glass. “Suggestions?”

“I’m off at midnight.”

“I’m free at midnight.”

Her mouth curved in a sexy smile and she extended her hand. “Sam.”

He stroked her palm. “Raze.”

He watched her saunter off, admiring the way black leather hugged her lush ass, then he picked up his glass and stared into it. Still fucking brooding, goddamnit.

He smelled the woman who stole his interest from Sam before he heard her.

“ She’s not what you want.”

The clipped, no-nonsense female voice stirred something inside him, as did her scent. He savored both a moment before he looked at her, appreciating both her directness and the fragrance she wore, which was light and sweetly floral, a perfect accompaniment to the natural female scent of her skin.

Raze glanced aside at the woman who made herself comfortable in the space next to him. She wasn’t his type. Too refined and complicated for his tastes, but there was no denying she was beautiful. Willowy body with modest curves. Creamy skin contrasted by dark hair. Vivid green eyes framed by thick, black lashes. She was an altogether stunning package. “She isn’t?”

“No.” She hooked one nude stiletto heel on the bar’s foot rail and set elegant hands on the carved wooden lip of the bar top. No rings, which he found surprising. She was the sort of prime choice female that didn’t remain on the market long.

Raze canted his body toward her. High-class, he thought, noting the Rolex on her wrist and the hefty diamond studs shooting multi-hued fire from her earlobes. In a quick survey, he registered slim gray dress slacks, a sleeveless black silk top, and dark as ink curls piled high and balanced on a long, slender neck.

An image of her came to his mind… sprawled naked and prone across a red velvet bedspread, her graceful spine arching as he slid his parted lips along its curve. Decadent. That’s what she was, and decadence was what she needed from the man she took to her bed. A long, slow, deep seduction. He didn’t have that patience in him tonight. He’d had blood dripping from every inch of his skin just twenty-four hours ago and he had a cold knot in his gut that ached.

Lifting his glass, he wet his lips, absently noting the building heat in his blood. Not his type, but he wanted her. “ I’m not what you want. Not tonight.”

She reached for his glass and he gave it up. Blood was the only thing he could ingest, but he’d learned to tolerate a drop or two of red wine.

Her dark green eyes stared into his over the lip of the glass. She swallowed and made his dick hard. “Shiraz.”

“Well done,” he murmured, his eyes following the perfect arches of her brows and the sculptured beauty of her cheekbones. With a slow and deep breath, Raze realized every other female in the room had faded into insignificance.

“I have good taste.” The intimacy of her smile included him in that statement, while the determination in her eyes dismissed his assertion that they weren’t meant to be lovers.

He ran a hand over his head and debated what to do. He was no longer interested in Sam the bartender, but he wanted sex and he needed blood. And the only person he wanted either from was the one standing in front of him-the kind of woman a guy didn’t take casually. “You could have any guy in this room. Any guy you want.”

“Perhaps.” She shrugged and settled on the seat beside him. “But I need you. I’m Kim, by the way.”

She extended her hand. They shook in greeting and he gave her his name.

“Interesting.” Her eyes sparkled. “Suits you.”

Raze inclined his head in acknowledgment, maintaining his hold on her for a moment longer than necessary because he got a charge out of it. He’d chosen the name himself after shedding his angelic one. All of the Fallen had recreated themselves and most minions followed suit-a new name for a new life. “Odd place to hunt for a rough ride.”

Her lush mouth curved on one side. “You’re not rough.”

His brows lifted in silent challenge.

“You’re not,” she insisted with a smile. “You’re fierce and in a dark mood, but not rough. And I wasn’t trolling for any kind of ride. I came in here for a drink with friends and had every intention of leaving here all by myself.”

She pointed across the room to where three of the small tables had been shoved together to make a grouping for a party of a half-dozen people. The men offered toasts to Raze, lifting their beers high. The women giggled and bent their heads together, speaking intimately. Their good-humored nervous response to him almost made him smile.

“Am I a bet, then?” he asked. “What do you win for having the courage to hit on me?”

“Hopefully, a night with you.” Kim took another drink, taking the time to absorb the taste of the wine before swallowing. No liquid courage for her. “I was sitting over there, minding my own business, having a reasonably good time. Then I felt a tingle on the back of my neck. I turned around and there you were. I was just going to admire you from afar, but then I saw you were trolling and figured why not me? Plus, I really needed to admire you up close.”

“You’re out of my league.” But he was beginning to think that wouldn’t be enough to stop him.

She grinned, which belied her hands-off appearance and made her sweetly approachable. “So earn me. I won’t mind the effort, I assure you.”

“The effort I expend will likely leave you hobbled in the morning,” he said harshly. “You have no idea what I need to get through tonight.”

Kim studied him for a long moment, taking a deep breath and then another. Something swept over her delicately beautiful features, something warm that briefly touched the chill in his gut. “I’m not into pain. If that’s what you need, then you’re right, I’m not your girl. But I don’t think that’s what you’re warning me about. You don’t want to hurt me; you just don’t want to hold back. And that’s what I need, Raze-a man who doesn’t hold back. That’s what kind of mood I’m in.”

Now it was his turn to study her. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.” Raze dug in his back pocket for his wallet and laid out a hundred dollar bill for Sam. “Let’s go.”

“I have to say goodbye to the team. Got a preference for a hotel? I’ll meet you there.”

Smart girl, he thought. He wrote his room number on a napkin and slid it over to her. “The Drake.”

“You already had a room? I admire your optimism.”

“I’m just passing through.”

Laughing, she bumped shoulders with him. “I’m just playing with you, rough guy. Besides, twenty minutes in the bar and you’ve already got two women willing to go to bed with you, I’d say a little optimism is justified.”

Christ. He wanted her. His blood was thrumming through his veins, burning with an excitement he hadn’t felt in… well, a long-assed time. Impatient expectation wasn’t in his nature. Or so he’d thought.

“Should I bring anything?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“An overnight bag.”

She slid off the barstool and grabbed his wine to take it back to her table. “See you in an hour, Raze.”

He grabbed her elbow, squeezed gently. “Make it thirty minutes.”

Again, she searched his face. Again, she saw something that settled her. “Forty-five. I’ll hurry.”

“Hurry faster.”

“Are you insane ?”

Kim looked at her best friend and shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Your dad is a cop,” Delia reminded, twisting her martini glass back and forth. “Your brother is a cop. You know better than to go home with strange men you pick up in a bar. He could be a serial killer or a sexual sadist or… anything!”

“It’s because I’ve grown up with cops that I know what I’m doing with him.” She’d watched the way he walked into the bar. The confident stride, the coolly observant eyes that took in everything, the way he carried his powerful body with limber agility. A hunter. She’d bet money he was undercover vice. Just as she’d bet money that something about his job was eating at him now and he wanted to put it away for a night, take some solace from someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to remind him he’d lost his edge for a few brief hours.

Looking back over her shoulder, she remembered watching Raze take a seat at the bar, remembered the way he’d looked into his glass as if the answer he was looking for could be found in it. Wasn’t she here for the same reason? To seek oblivion in the company of others. So they’d narrow it down to the two of them, and toss in orgasms and physical exhaustion. There were worse ways to spend the night. Like lying in bed alone, drenched in clammy sweat and shaking with fear.

Delia frowned, her dark eyes filled with worry behind her chic electric blue eyeglass frames. “This sort of reckless behavior isn’t like you. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re still reeling from what happened to Janelle. You’re not in the right frame of mind.”

Janelle. God. Kim polished off the last of the shiraz. Even though she’d moved into a different apartment in a different building in a different part of town, she couldn’t get the memory of coming home to her roommate’s murder out of her head. The crazy ex Janelle had been running from for years had finally tracked her down and taken her life, then turned the gun on himself. Kim couldn’t close her eyes without seeing it all over again-blood everywhere, splattered over everything, pooling on the floor in a viscous crimson lake. The sharp metallic smell of fresh death had seared her nostrils, indelibly etching a nightmare on her mind.

“I have to go.” She dug her business card out of her purse and wrote Raze’s name and room number on the back. “If I turn up missing, here’s the last place I was.”

“Ha! That’s not funny, Kim.” Delia looked at the others. “Tell her she’s out of her mind. Stop her.”

Justin looked up as she stood. He shook his head. “Sorry, Dee. She’s not changing her mind. She’s got the devil in her eye.”

“Leave off, Delia,” Rosalind said, fanning herself. “That guy was seriously hot. I’m rooting her on. Go, Kim, go. Rock his world. Make him beg.”

Delia groaned. “Oh my god, you’re all whacked. I’m calling your brother.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Kim said dryly, bending down to kiss her friend’s cheek. “Go for it. See you guys Monday.”

“If you’re still alive then!” Delia yelled after her. “You sex-crazy maniac.”

Kim was smiling all the way to her car, but when she slid behind the wheel her humor was gone. Replaced by a hotter, more pressing emotion. There was a gorgeous, dangerously seductive man waiting in a hotel room for her. A man who was aching and lonely, just like she was. For tonight, at least, she wouldn’t have to take a damn pill to fall asleep.