A Vampire's Bohemian Read online

  The Stone Masters Vampire Series

  Bohemian

  BOOK IV

  Vanessa Fewings

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Advertencia Antipirateria del FBI: La reproducción o distribución no autorizada de una obra protegida por derechos de autor es ilegal. La infracción criminal de los derechos de autor, incluyendo la infracción sin lucro monetario, es investigada por el FBI y es castigable con pena de hasta cinco años en prisión federal y una multa de $250,000.

  Bohemian

  Copyright © 2013 Vanessa Fewings

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author.

  Cover created by: Najla Qamber Designs

  Cover photo credit Shutterstock:

  Greta Gabaglio and Volodymyr Tverdokhlib

  Book formatted and edited by Louise Bohmer:

  www.louisebohmer.com/site/freelance

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  A wave of vertigo.

  I stared dead ahead, averting my gaze from the sheer drop twenty stories down. Balancing precariously on the uppermost outside ledge of the Bainard Building with my back pressed against the cold brick, I regretted hiding out here. It had seemed reasonable fifteen minutes ago. My usual nerves of steel were failing.

  Without a search warrant I had no right to be here, or rather in there, snooping around Lord Rupert Hauville’s office. Whoever had entered the room had almost caught me red-handed, hacking into his desktop computer and a few clicks away from getting what I’d come for.

  Evidence.

  In any other circumstance, I might have enjoyed the view of Knightsbridge. In fact if I crooked my neck far enough I’d be able to see as far as Harrods. Chilled by the night air, goose bumps prickled along my forearms. This was easily the most irresponsible risk I’d ever taken and there were plenty to compare it to. Pursuing vampires for one.

  A raindrop splotched on my forearm and then another. Rain struck the ledge, making it slippery beneath my inappropriate strappy high-heeled shoes, which were not my usual choice of footwear when scaling buildings. This evening had been going so well. I’d infiltrated Hauville’s fundraising party, mingling amongst the city’s elite charity goers while extracting intelligence on the man from the guests. This black evening gown I’d chosen to wear was far too flimsy for one of London’s coldest evenings. I’d not exactly foreseen this.

  Maybe it would have been safer to take on whoever had entered. After all, I was trained in self-defense. Although not on police time, this could be considered police work. My unusual brand of investigating always delivered results, and I’d often overstepped protocols proving my willingness to go out on a limb.

  Or even a ledge.

  The window frame slammed shut.

  Damn.

  Taking several deep breaths calmed me, despite the adrenaline surging through my veins and making my heart race. Blood pounded in my ears. An ill-timed wave of dizziness swept over me.

  I knelt and turned awkwardly to peer through the window at a now empty room. Dreading what I already knew, I grabbed the sides of the window frame and tried to ease them up. My fingers slipped off. I gave it another go.

  Stealing precious seconds to think my way out of this, I held panic at bay. Or tried too. Going left wasn’t an option. The wall ended there and I wasn’t ready to explore what lay around the corner. Not that it was even possible to climb around it. To my right was another window, but what led to it was a rain soaked ledge.

  Take off your shoes, came that quiet inner voice offering reassurance. With fumbling fingers, I undid the straps on each shoe and removed them. Now barefoot, I felt more stable, though shockwaves of cold bored into my soles. Clutching my heels, I edged to my right, careful not to drop a shoe and knock out a pedestrian.

  I faced the wall and knelt close to the window. I didn’t even try and open it. From here I could see the catch was locked. Several strikes on the glass with my spiked heel proved breaking it wasn’t possible. The rubber merely bounced off the window pane.

  Standing again, I hugged the wall and rested my forehead against it. Silently, I invited a Zen-like trance to find me, taking deep steadying breaths while reassuring myself I’d get to live through this. There came that old familiar vow, the one where I pledged I’d never put myself in this kind of danger ever again.

  A promise I intended to keep this time.

  CHAPTER 1

  A click, and the window frame flew up.

  Raising my eyes to the starlit sky, I thanked God for this miracle and edged back along the ledge, weak from those twenty minutes or so since I’d first stepped out here. My legs were numb from the cold. With my hands grasping either side of the window frame, I used the leverage to jump back in, landing firmly on the Persian rug.

  I froze—

  And seriously considered climbing back out. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The chill sunk deep into my bones. A razor sharp fear caught my last breath and held it hostage.

  “Well that was reckless,” Orpheus said with a wry smile.

  London’s most notorious vampire stood a few feet away, his arms casually folded across his chest and his piercing hazel eyes locked on mine.

  Frozen in time at thirty-years-old, he was tall and breathtakingly handsome, with inky black hair that framed a perfect face. That heart-stopping beauty concealed a cold-blooded nature, as did his aristocratic air. That tailored tux, with his bowtie hanging loose, oozed old money and lots of it. From his mussed up locks, he’d probably flown here or leaped across the rooftops at speed. Shadows danced over his chiseled features and his stillness exuded a supernatural eeriness. His eyes reflecting worldliness. Those four hundred years he’d lived were an unfair advantage to anyone, including one of his own. He held that stunning smile he used so well to intimidate, knowing its effect and reveling in it.

  Those who didn’t know Orpheus might mistake all this intensity for serenity. Until his bite met your neck.

  Judging by his black-tie tux, he’d been to the theatre, or opera maybe. His well polished shoes hinted he’d not walked far, leaving me to deduce he’d come from the West End. His dangling bowtie gave the impression of frustration, or even an attempt at casual, which didn’t suit him.

  Orpheus’ silence gave away that he’d zeroed in on my thoughts, aiming to extract them for his own amusement. I eased my shoes back on, taking my time to secure the straps and wondering how he’d gotten in.

  He shrugged out of his jacket. “Like you, through the front door.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He tut-tutted. “Whatever happened to ma
nners?” He neared me and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. “Where is my thank you?”

  “What for?” I said.

  “Saving your life.”

  There came a welcome warmth soaking into my chilled bones. “I’d have been fine.” When his heady cologne reached me, it pushed all the wrong buttons and made it hard to think straight. I feigned he had no effect. His smile didn’t exactly help.

  Hauville could return any second, and knowing Orpheus he’d fly out the window and leave me to face him. I scanned the office again, taking in the dark wood paneled walls, the neatly lined books upon a single shelf, many of them classics. Dante’s Inferno caught my eye, mainly because it was in Italian. Other than that the space was simple. One leather well-worn armchair, and beside it a tall lamp with tassels hanging from the shade. Upon the maple desk sat a few scattered files, but none of them had contents relevant to my case. Though that computer probably did.

  “Don’t mind me.” He tilted his head toward it.

  “Are you following me?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. What were you thinking climbing out there?”

  “Great view. You should check it out.”

  So I can bolt through the door.

  Despite my five inch heels, he still looked down on me. That glare of his effortlessly formed cracks in the wall I’d thrown up. “I really should get back to the party,” I said.

  My self defense skills were useless on him, and if he focused his supernatural seduction on me I might be forced to surrender my dignity.

  “What do you want, Orpheus?”

  “For you to stop putting yourself in harm’s way so I can enjoy the rest of my evening.”

  “You’ve done your heroic deed for the day.”

  “A friend of yours called in a favor.”

  “Jadeon?” Saying his name sent a flurry of emotion through me.

  “I love you,” Jadeon Artimas, my once lover, had told me the last time I’d seen him. “I’m letting you go so you can have the life you deserve.” He’d left me at Trafalgar Square beside the fountain, disallowing me the chance to tell him what I wanted, what I needed. Him. My beloved vampire. That had been two months, six days, seven hours ago, and if I glanced at my watch I’d be able to calculate the minutes. My thoughts drifted back to all that had unfolded. Enough craziness to keep my mind spinning twenty-four hours a day trying to make sense of it all.

  “Have you seen him?” I asked.

  “Jadeon has your best interests at heart, Ingrid.”

  “Why should I believe anything you say?” My thoughts drifted…you tried to kill me.

  “Turn you,” he said. “Evidently I changed my mind.”

  How cruel of nature to bestow upon a nightwalker such charm, a talent for seduction with merely their presence. Even his voice was primed to lure and render his victim powerless.

  “I could say the same about you,” he said. “You look stunning.”

  A shiver ran up my spine, though not from the cold. Getting in here had been no small feat, and the precious seconds I had to finish the job were being stolen by him. Even if Orpheus had saved my life.

  “Jadeon would never have sent you,” I said.

  Orpheus didn’t react, which was his way of letting me know he didn’t care what I believed. Ironic that balancing precariously on a ledge was less perilous then staying in here with him.

  “I’m offended,” he said, having read my thoughts again.

  “Jadeon would never put me in harm’s way.”

  “You don’t need any help as far as that’s concerned.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Usual haunts.”

  And yet he eluded me.

  “I was having a lovely evening with Lucas,” Orpheus said. “We were at a play in the West End.”

  I remembered Lucas Azir fondly. Though having only briefly spent time with this Egyptian archeologist, I knew he’d be a good influence on Orpheus. Something told me they were old friends going way back.

  “I first met Lucas in the Valley of the Kings,” he said. “Lucas was like a kid at Christmas. Though instead of toys it was bones.”

  “Where’s Lucas now?”

  “Back at the theatre. We were enjoying Les Miserables. Right up until I got a message you were up to your old tricks.”

  “You mean working?’

  He gave a disarming look. “You would have frozen to death. Or a pedestrian might have seen you and called the police. I’m sure Scotland Yard wouldn’t appreciate one of their inspectors being featured on the nine o’clock news.”

  “Thank you for opening the window.” I pointed to the door. “Say hello to Lucas for me.”

  Orpheus slid his hands into his pockets and he even managed to make that simple gesture look sexy. “The truth is Jadeon asked me to keep an eye on you. Or rather, Dominion did.”

  Dominion, the title Jadeon now held having been destined to since birth, decreed to reign over the immortals and keep order. The very position I’d helped him secure and the one that now ironically kept us apart.

  “Take me to him,” I said.

  Orpheus strolled toward the window and peered out. “Jadeon wants you to stop searching for him. It’s a dreadful waste of time. His words.”

  My chest ached with the idea Jadeon really had sent Orpheus to deliver this message.

  The door creaked open and I froze, ready to greet whomever came in, my excuse ready, my heart racing from being caught in here.

  There was no one there.

  “You can leave anytime,” he said, having opened it telepathically.

  “That’s unlike you to be so considerate,” I said.

  “It’s complicated, Ingrid.”

  I shut the door.

  He leaned back against the windowsill. “Trust me.”

  “Impossible.”

  “I have something you want.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Information.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Lord Hauville is one of the most influential peers in the House of Lords.”

  A jolt of excitement shot up my spine. “Go on.”

  “Hauville has friends in high places.”

  “So I heard.”

  “He plays golf with the Prime Minister,” Orpheus added. “But you already know that.”

  Hence my need for precision. Hauville’s connections made my superiors nervous, and getting a search warrant had been a challenge. They’d advised me to get them more to go on first, and though this wasn’t what they’d had in mind my gut told me the answers were here.

  “You’re always one step ahead, Ingrid,” he said. “You make those you work with antsy. No one likes being left behind.”

  “You seem to know an awful lot about me.”

  “Oh, I know more about you then you do.” His lips curled into a smile.

  Despite being on high alert, there was a heady dose of intrigue forging through my veins. The last thing I’d expected tonight was a brush with the underworld. It felt good, even if I hated to admit it. I wasn’t willing to let Orpheus disappear into the night. Not yet. He was my only connection to Jadeon and a tenuous link at that.

  “You’re here tonight to ensure the evidence is accessible before requesting a search warrant.” Orpheus neared me. “Heaven forbid you piss off your superiors back at the station. Again.”

  “What else do you know about Hauville?” I grazed my lip with my teeth in anticipation.

  “He’s a philanthropist. But it’s not his charitableness that’s drawn you here.”

  I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was hard, considering Orpheus was using his dark gift to make me tingle exquisitely in all the wrong places. It wasn’t only a violation, it was distracting.

  He raised his hands in defense. “I’m not doing anything. Though I have to admit, if it wasn’t for the promise I’d made to Jadeon I’d be the one biting your lip right now.”

  I raised my chin in defiance. “What el
se do you know?”

  “Seems you know everything.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “You’ve never begged for anything.”

  “I begged for my life when you tried to take it.”

  He gave me a long lingering look, proving he knew exactly what I was thinking, feeling even. Pretending he had no effect on me was naive.

  “Hauville heads up a counterfeit business,” he said.

  I already knew this, but I needed to know how Orpheus did. “Why would a man with such a grand reputation threaten it?”

  “When Hauville’s father died, the inheritance tax threatened his castle in Scotland,” he said. “Maybe that had something to do with it.”

  I looked away, seeing in my mind’s eye the pieces of the case coming together. There were numerous gaps in my investigation that I still needed to fill. “You believe that Hauville turned to crime to save his family home?” I said.

  “Perhaps.”

  “And you’d know all about crime.”

  Orpheus folded his arms. “Careful, or you’ll end up leaning over the desk with me behind you teaching you a lesson in respect.”

  I let out a slow, calming breath.

  “Not happy with that fake Chanel purse you bought?” he said.

  “Counterfeits are not limited to fake handbags,” I said. “And anyway, I prefer Marks and Spencer.”

  “Oh, you working class girl you.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “Hauville’s dealing in drugs.”

  “Medicine. Counterfeit tablets. Gullible Americans are buying medication off his website and the stuff they’re getting has no benefit.” I stepped closer to him. “People have died.”

  He gestured to the computer. “The profits are transferred to an off shore account.”

  I was sharing way too much, but for what I sensed I’d get out of this conversation it seemed worth it. Maybe he’d even tell me where to find Jadeon.

  “You were hoping to access those accounts from here?” he said.

  I refused to comment. Instead I read him with the same laser-sharp intensity he held me with.

  “You checked the building’s schematics, I take it?” he said.