As Midnight Loves the Moon Read online

  He moved past the large formal sitting room on his left and the dining room on his right to the staircase. He jogged up them two at a time and hurried into the arsenal. Swords, daggers, crossbows, guns, rifles, axes, and every other weapon imaginable lined the walls and partitions. Alex went to the closet where the oddball armament was kept and checked through chest after chest.

  Nothing. The Blessed Blade wasn’t there and it annoyed the hell out of him. As he stood there trying to figure out where it could be, a faint noise downstairs caught his attention. Quietly, but quickly, he exited the room, closing the door soundlessly, and headed for the stairs.

  He followed the sounds of someone walking into the kitchen. His colleague, Thomas, stood at the open refrigerator door, piling items in his arms.

  “Hungry?”

  “Fuck!” Tommy yelled, jumping slightly. A package of cheese fell from his overstuffed arms. “Don’t do that to me, Alex!”

  “Jumpy much?”

  He walked over and picked up the fallen cheese, balancing it on some packaged meat.

  “I just got in from a stakeout,” Tommy muttered. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m not in the best of moods right now.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Stakeout of whom?”

  Tommy walked over to the kitchen island, dumped his goodies and walked over to the pantry to grab the bread. “I don’t know, really, but nothing happened. Seb had me watch some place all night long.”

  “And where is Seb?”

  “Thank you! That’s what I’d like to know. I can never seem to find him lately. Ever since he got back from that Seattle hunt, he’s been acting strange.”

  Alex watched Tommy make a sandwich, piling several different flavors of meat, cheese, lettuce and tomatoes, as well as a large portion of chicken salad. He and Seb were Shade police as well, working alongside humans. Tommy was the youngest of them, but no one would ever call him little. In fact, he stood taller than both he and Seb, though the fact that they stood well over six feet wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

  “You’re putting chicken salad on a turkey and ham sandwich?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “That’s just slightly gross.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes and took a huge bite out of the sandwich. Alex shook his head in bemusement.

  “Do you know where Seb keeps the Blade?”

  Tommy cocked his head, chewed, and then swallowed after a minute. “What blade?”

  “The Blessed Blade.”

  “Oh! Um…nope, haven’t a clue. Possibly his room?”

  “Would your better half know where it is?”

  “I don’t think so,” Tommy replied. “Josiah hasn’t left our room all night. Why do you need it?”

  “I think I found that rogue vampire. I’m going to hunt him down tomorrow night.”

  Tommy’s eyebrows shot up. “You know, I’ve heard sex with a vampire is out of this world.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “When’s the last time you got laid?”

  “Focus, Tommy.”

  Tommy picked up a towel and headed for the table. He gave a one-shoulder shrug as he passed by Alex. “I do focus. Sex is one of my focusing points.”

  “You better go take that up with Josiah.”

  “Josiah knows he has nothing to fear. I wouldn’t step out on him. So, do you need help on that vampire?”

  “I think its best you leave my vampire alone.”

  He ignored Tommy’s raised brow as he left the younger man to his mountain sandwich.

  Chapter Three

  The next evening, Wayde headed out his door and started the long walk to his shop. Being surrounded by books and doing meticulous restoration was better than sitting around with his cock yearning for a woman he couldn’t have right now, not until she knew the truth about him and willingly agreed to be his companion. There weren’t many Shade laws he abided by, but that was the one he actually agreed with. A human’s life was so short, and he’d lived among them for so long, that he wouldn’t be the cause of Daphne ever regretting her decision.

  For several hours, he poured over an ancient European block printing from the mid-1400’s. There were several religious images on the extremely delicate paper throughout the block book, as it was commonly called, and he was working on it within the safeguard of a glass chamber, his hands meticulously wrapped in white cotton. He had taken a baby incubator and modified it with his own design. Attached to the outside he had put several large magnifying glasses ready to be used at his discretion.

  The work was tedious. Each section of paper had to be carefully, delicately cleaned with special substances. Only the steadiest of hands, the sturdiest of backs, and the greatest of patience could perform such a labor of love.

  He had been living on earth a long time. Time moved infinitely slower here than in the Shade realm, which was why humans called his race immortal. Vampires weren’t immortal, of course. Nothing could live forever, but they did have a very long life span when compared to humans. Some of the books in his collection had been his own, purchased when originally printed. He had always been a lover of words and took very good care of his books. As time had moved forward, as the centuries had progressed and technology changed the face of how books were made, Wayde had gradually migrated to their preservation. He was proud that he was considered an expert in the field, that in certain circles he was actually considered, well, a god.

  He got a kick out of that.

  His shop was heavily fortified, the vaults under the building containing some of the most expensive security systems known to man. He had first editions that were worth millions of dollars, gold lithograph religious tomes from the Middle Ages, and even one woodblock printing on a piece of silk from the Han Dynasty.

  He worked on the book until his eyes crossed and his hands ached. He glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was only an hour until daybreak. At that moment, his stomach growled. He sighed and withdrew his hands form the incubator, sealing it up before shutting off the special light used for fragile paper and covering the case before turning on the overhead fluorescent lights. He made his rounds through the shop, checking his books before heading into the basement and checked the temperature and humidity levels. Then he locked up and activated the alarms.

  Living in Washington, on the coast, gave the city a lot of fog. Tonight was no exception. Wayde burrowed deeper into his coat as he walked slowly home. Now that his mind wasn’t occupied with work, it immediately returned to Daphne. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He’d revealed his sexual desire for her, but how did he tell her he also craved her blood? His stomach growled again, so on his way home, he went on the hunt in the back alleys and caught a stray cat. Animal blood wasn’t that tasty, like a carnivore eating tofu, but it satisfied his hunger. The cat had taken the edge off, but he had to satisfy the sexual need clawing at his insides soon, and if not with Daphne, then with someone of his own kind.

  For a moment, the image of the man from last night appeared in his mind. He hadn’t had a clear view of the shadowed man, but Wayde had the impression the man had been built. Tall, muscular, hot, just the way he liked them. Need rose sharply through him. And when he saw the man standing before him, he blinked, wondering if his imagination had decided to play tricks on him.

  Shade Rock was a large city with several outlaying suburbs and a bustling night life, plus it was a nod to where he was born. Several blocks away lay music row and he could faintly hear a mishmash of styles, everything from jazz to rock and roll. This time of night the area was mostly abandoned, so happening upon the man who had appeared in front of his home wasn’t just coincidence.

  “Stop right there, vampire,” the man said, his voice deep and sexy as hell.

  Wayde blinked and cocked his head. The man moved forward, out of the shadows and Wayde felt the air whoosh from his lungs. The brief glimpse from last night hadn’t done the man justice. He had a Jake Gyllenhaal thing going on,
ala Prince of Persia, with his shoulder length dark hair and close cropped goatee. He had sculptured lips that begged to be kissed and a chiseled jaw that could probably cut glass. Wayde snapped his mouth closed and had to remember not to drool.

  “There’s blood on your coat.”

  Wayde looked down at himself. “Yeah. It’s cat blood.”

  “You expect me to believe you settled for cat blood?”

  “I don’t expect you to believe anything,” Wayde said. “I don’t know you.”

  “I’m Alexander Malden,” the man replied and held up a Shade badge. “I’ve been searching for a rogue vampire.”

  “And you think I’m the rogue?” Wayde asked. “I assure you, I’m not.”

  “You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”

  “You think I’m lying?”

  “I think I need to question you.”

  Alexander was dressed as a bad ass in black leather, and he reached around himself to pull out two swords. Wayde blinked.

  “Swords? Isn’t that kind of archaic?”

  “What were you expecting, a gun?”

  Wayde gave a one shoulder shrug. “Well, yes. They’re a little more frightening for interrogations, aren’t they? A little more modern.”

  He saw Alex blink and frown. Wayde tried to figure out what color his eyes were, but he stood too far away to see them clearly.

  “I’m not used to this,” he went on before Alex could reply. “I guess you could use the old human expression ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter.’ I mean, I am a vampire, but I only drink from willing donors and, as this blood on my coat shows, the occasional stray.”

  Alex didn’t answer, but his mouth dropped open a fraction. Before he could say anything, Wayde continued.

  “I guess I can kind of see your side of things,” Wayde said. “I mean, fuck, who can you trust, right? You don’t know me from this rogue vampire, and I’m out this late because time simply got away from me at work.”

  “Shut up,” Alex said, sounding annoyed.

  Wayde held up his hands. “Sorry! Habit. Nerves, you know? It’s why I work alone. I don’t make my own self nervous. And right now, I’m staring at a guy with two big swords in his hands, while I’m weaponless. I guess I should be carrying something, but truthfully a vampire doesn’t really have to worry about being mugged. Actually, I was just pondering about hitting up a donor club since Daphne doesn’t really know about me—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Alex yelled more forcefully.

  “Oh,” Wayde said. “I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned Daphne.”

  “Don’t start talking again,” Alex warned. “I don’t have all night.”

  “Actually, I don’t have all night.”

  “Who’s Daphne? Is she human?”

  “Yes.”

  Then, before Wayde could say anything more, Alex moved and appeared before him in the blink of an eye, the swords crossed at his throat. Wayde gave a small, bright smile before punching Alex in his side, a kidney punch that had him buckling. As the swords fell, Wayde bent himself backward, evading the blade by inches as Alex tried to recapture his advantage by swinging them.

  Alex righted himself and advanced, thrusting his sword forward. This time Wayde did a back flip and when he landed he spun, kicking high. His foot connected to Alex’s left hand and he lost his grip on the sword. Wayde lunged and caught it. He swung with it and the two blades met in a clash of metal on metal.

  “Weaponless, my ass,” Alex muttered. “You failed to mention your little karate skill.”

  “You expected me to divulge all my secrets?”

  “I suppose talking your opponent to death is another tactic?”

  “I’m very good at a lot of things.”

  “Yes, I’m starting to understand that.”

  Alex feinted back, then parried with a half turn. They faced each other and then started sparring. Easy at first, light and quick, but eventually moving into a more complex rhythm.

  Alex’s movements were precise, perfectly positioned, the footwork sure and strong. He kept his eyes trained on the man in front of him and seemed to anticipate each thrust or jab with his own unique movement. As muscular as he was, it was not a hindrance. In fact, he glided around as if on a cloud.

  Wayde matched Alex thrust for thrust. He wielded the blade with grace, even when Alex’s blade came down a little more forcibly. Wayde’s muscles tensed as Alex’s thrust and ducked, jabbed and swiped. He was after vital areas and was doing a damn fine job of repelling Wayde’s attacks.

  Alex suddenly bent and kicked out in a sidekick that caught Wayde in the stomach. He expelled a lungful of breath and buckled slightly, leaving himself open to let Alex swing around with another kick, trying to knock the blade out of his hand. At the last second, Wayde managed to jump back.

  Wayde returned with a greater leap and a more forceful comeback, placing both hands on his sword and going on the attack. He ducked another kick from Alex and did one of his own as Alex was recovering, hitting the warrior in the back and causing him to stumble. Alex recovered quickly and threw his sword up.

  Steel met steel, the sound of striking metal ringing with its own brand of musical foreplay through the shipping yards. Then, everything abruptly came to a halt as Alex pivoted, then did a duck-spin, striking out with the wooden handle of his sword right into Wayde’s jaw and sending him spinning. And as he whirled, his blade spiraled downward, and the tip caught Alex on the very edge of his jaw, where the cheek curled downward.

  The wound was not deep, but blood ran.

  The coppery scent hit Wayde sharply and he felt his fangs descend. Hunger roared through his body and the need to lick Alex’s blood almost had him buckling under the force of his desire. Whatever Shade species Alex was made his blood smell sweet and mouthwatering. Wayde walked backwards, his sword held high, in an effort to escape the gut-clenching craving. Both paused, staring at each other, breathing heavily. Alex reached up to touch the wound with a finger, staring into Wayde’s eyes.

  “You’re better with that sword then I thought you’d be.”

  “I was in China for a while,” Wayde replied, panting slightly.

  “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

  “There were many battles during the Three Kingdoms era,” Wayde explained. “Right around when Buddhism was introduced to the Chinese.”

  Alex backed off even further. “This isn’t over, rogue.”

  And then he was gone, and Wayde was left holding a sword. He looked at it and licked off the blood. Alex’s blood. It was so sweet, so heavenly, like ambrosia. Fae, maybe. It made him want the man and not just his blood. Wayde’s cock was hard and it pulsed with Alex’s name.

  But first things first. How the hell was he supposed to get this sword home inconspicuously?

  Chapter Four

  “Shit!” Alex muttered as he examined his wound in the bathroom mirror. Though it wasn’t too deep, the blood wouldn’t stop. He was going to need stitches. Holding a towel to his chin, he left the bathroom and headed down the hallway. He turned the corner from his wing of the house and head downstairs, to Josiah and Tommy’s room. They had the bottom right half of the house, where the library was located, because all Josiah did was research. He’d joined their team not long ago, but it was clear from the beginning that Josiah was an unusual enforcer. Instead of fighting, he read about fighting. He knew tactic and strategy more than any other person, but only because he’d memorized the damn manuals.

  Alex knocked on the closed door. A second later Josiah answered. He wore glasses and had a tendency to forget what day or month it was.

  “You’re bleeding,” Josiah observed, one eyebrow raised.

  “Glad those glasses are working,” Alex managed to mumble despite the towel. “Can you sew me up?”

  “Why me?”

  “One, you’re the only one home. Two, I have a feeling you’ve probably read a book about suturing.”

  Josiah pursed his lips. “Y
ou’re right. Meet me in the kitchen.”

  He closed the door in Alex’s face.

  Alex turned and made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out one of the large leatherback dining chairs and sat. Josiah walked in a moment later with an old fashioned doctor’s bag.

  “What is that?”

  “Medical supplies,” Josiah answered. “Now be quiet, so I can sew you up.”

  Alex gritted his teeth through the pain as Josiah stitched the wound closed. Finally, after what seemed an hour but probably was closer to ten minutes, Josiah stepped back and examined his handiwork.

  “Good as new,” he said.

  “I need something to drink,” Alex muttered. “That fucking hurt!”

  “Well, that’s what happens when you get cut,” Josiah stated as he started putting things back in the bag. “By the way, who did this?”

  “A vampire.”

  Josiah gave him a surprised glance. “That’s not a bite wound. What did he cut you with?”

  This time, Alex squirmed. “One of my swords,” he muttered.

  He expected derision, but Josiah said nothing. He only turned back to close his case.

  “Get the Blessed Blade.”

  “I would if I could find where Sebastian put it,” he said with a sigh.

  “Oh. You should check his bedroom. But if I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for it. G’night.”

  “Night, Josiah.”

  He watched his friend retreat and gently tested the soreness of his jaw. Damn that vampire. He had to figure out his next move.

  At that moment, all the adrenaline he’d been flying on crashed and burned. His eyelids drooped and all he wanted was to go to bed. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he headed upstairs.

  ****

  Daphne woke up late the next day, but she didn’t care. She’d spent the majority of her life sleeping the day away because of her problem. Her foster mother had home-schooled her because Daphne couldn’t participate in any outside activity. She’d lived mostly at night, under the bright midnight moon, letting her mind play out fantasies that only a healthy body could utilize. As she’d gotten older, she’d dreamed of a man sweeping her off her feet and loving her despite her limitations.