DIA - One Night at the Denver International Airport

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 8,074
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Two lonely souls find each other amidst mayhem and murder under one of the strangest airports ever, Denver International Airport.

DIA - One Night at the Denver International Airport
0 Ratings (0.0)

DIA - One Night at the Denver International Airport

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 8,074
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Angela Waters
Excerpt

I left my quarters, locked up, and walked toward the crime scene. My eyesight was powerful. I could see ten times better from a distance than any mortal, even with the crappy lighting down here.

The first thing I saw was him. He was definitely in charge, barking orders left and right at everyone around him. He was also a delight to my eyes: big, tall, handsome—just my type. Usually, I found mortals quite tedious and boring, but not this one. I knew before I even spoke to him that he was smart. He sure as hell was eye candy.

The cop was on his haunches beside the dead guy. I stood back, admiring the view. It was some view. Who knew police men on the Denver PD were that good looking? I’d have to get my butt out of this airport one day and start hunting cops.

Dark hair, thick and shiny, touched the collar of his black leather jacket, with some rough stuff on his jaw—yum. When he turned and looked at me, I was delighted to see beautiful blue eyes. I had a thing for blue eyes.

The detective stood. He was tall, lean, and well-muscled. Okay, this one I’d love to spend some time with. I think I licked my lips.

“I’m Detective Miles,” I said, showing him my badge. “Jacob Miles. I’ve been sent to help you out.”

“From where?” He came closer and looked at my badge curiously.

I could smell him now. The sweet coppery blood scent humans had mixed with some mild aftershave.

Some mint, and maybe a touch of whiskey? Aha.

He’d been depressed lately. He was alone now. His lover had left him a few months back. That’s what his eyes told me. He was heartbroken. Poor baby. I would have loved to soothe the savage beast.

“New York City,” I said. “Had a crime similar to this one in a subway station last year. Thought I could be of some help.”

I did my best to read his thoughts. Sometimes I could if I really concentrated. This one had a mind like a steel trap. The impressions I got from him came and then disappeared from my grasp in seconds. The only thing radiating off this big, handsome cop right now was skepticism.

“Sergeant Valens, Andre Valens.” He held out his hand to me.

I shook it briefly. I knew my hand was cold. He didn’t comment.

I asked, “What have we got here?” Oh, it was a line right out of one of those cop shows. I was so proud of myself. I’d watched a lot of those programs.

Andre Valens led me over to the body. I scrunched down beside him. Our shoulders touched. It gave me a little thrill.

“Forensics couldn’t tell me much,” Valens said. “I’m perplexed. I can’t find any wounds or blood. We have to wait for the autopsy to know what killed him.”

“Um, he might have dropped dead of a heart attack,” I suggested.

“I thought of that,” he said. “He’s a little young though. Can’t be any more than twenty-two.”

“Worked here at the airport—baggage handler,” I offered.

Andre Valens looked at me. “How did you know that? He’s not in his work clothes. There was no baggage car, either.”

I’d seen him, of course, often, but I couldn’t tell Valens that. “I heard someone say it earlier. One of your guys, I think.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Curious he was down here at this time of night, all alone. He wasn’t working. Why would he be down here?”

I shrugged. “Maybe he was meeting someone. A lover?” I met Valens’ gaze.

“Maybe,” Valens said.

I reached out and turned the head of the body toward me. I put my fingers on his neck, right over where the puncture wounds would have been made. Yep. It was rough. The marks had been sealed. It was a vampire. He’d taken too much, and it was deliberate. No vampire could accidently drink a body dry. He’d killed him on purpose. At least he’d had the sense to cover his tracks.

“What are you doing?” Valens asked.

“Ah, just feeling around for wounds.”

Valens gave me a strange look as he stood up. “There are none. Who sent you again?”

I don’t trust you.

I heard that. Maybe it was my time to fade away. I knew I should excuse myself and disappear, but I was standing there looking at Andre Valens. For the first time, I was the one who felt caught, mesmerized. This man had everything—good looks and brains. Maybe too many brains for my own good.

Several people came walking toward us. I stood back and watched as they zipped the corpse into a body bag and took him away.

Valens stayed, looking around the area, inspecting the tunnel. I followed him. I had that uneasy feeling again, the sensation that Valens and I weren’t alone down here. Then someone spoke, but only to me.

Came to snoop?

My heart fell. My worst fear had been realised. I knew that voice too well.

You bastard. How did you find me?

Now, now. Miss me?

Never.

You’ve had this place all to yourself for far too long. Time for a reunion.

Later. When we are alone. Let the cop leave.

I’d love you to introduce me to your delectable policeman. We could share.

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