Dark Souls

Loophole

Ilaria

“Sylvester Graidern. Forty-two-year-old male. Human. Born and raised New Yorker. He’s been in and out of prison since he was a teen. Previous history of petty thefts, gambling addictions, assault and more recently, links tied with the black markets. A glowing reference, clearly,” Archer skidded the profile across his desk towards Sienna, who picked it up and started skimming through the information the CIA had gathered and handed over to their subdivision, the Supernatural Intelligence Agency (SIA) which focused on specific crimes that were believed to be committed by supernaturals. Archer Brooks had just stepped into his father’s shoes as the Director along with Sienna and my Uncle Raiden who lead the teams of agents.

“So he was involved in some shady sh*t that more than likely got him killed,” I clarified as Archer smacked his lips together and shrugged in agreement.

“Except this was a supernatural kill so it could have been a wrong place, wrong time situation and nothing to do with his crimes,” Sienna offered a counter argument. “You think it links with—” She paused as she gave me a side-eye, before glancing across at Archer. “You know.”

“Don’t mind me,” I lifted my hands up and smiled, pretending to slip into the background. “Just act like I’m not even here. I promise, nothing confidential will leave my lips. You can trust me on that.”

Archer’s eyes met Sienna’s with apprehension and the room suddenly filled with prickly tension on their end.

“We do trust you, Ilaria. But this is now official SIA business and because you are not an agent, yet, we are going to have to ask you to step outside for this conversation. But you did amazing last night. So things look promising. I’ll work on Raiden and see if we can at least start you on some of the training programs,” Sienna said carefully, trying to placate me. It didn’t work.

Rolling my eyes, I fought the urge to snort. Words, and more words. In fact, words in general were mostly insignificant to me. When you’re born with the ability to see inside someone’s head, their innermost depraved thoughts, their true feelings, you start to realise that what comes out of someone’s mouth and what goes on in their brains are very rarely the same. People say what they think others want to hear. All the f*cking time. Words can mean nothing. Actions are what I pay attention to. You can learn a lot about someone from their actions. That sh*t is instinctual. Actions can be calculated or impulsive but they all have meaning. Every action says aloud what someone can’t put into words but only thinks, whether they realise it or not. Whether it be their body language, physical responses or the lack thereof. And even though I couldn’t read Sienna’s mind as she was a member of my family through a mate bond, I knew she was trying to buy herself some time to seek permission from my family before involving me in any more ’dangerous cases’.

Being seen as the baby in the Romano-Black family really f*cking sucked. I was getting so tired of their refusal to allow me to make my own choices and become an official agent for the SIA. What did I have to do to prove my worth? I’d helped read minds in the last few interrogations they conducted, even though I was forced to remain silent throughout and only offer my opinions after the interview. Even though it felt good to be doing something, using my mind reading abilities wasn’t enough for me. I want to be a field agent like Sienna and Ronnie. I want to be where the action is. And last night at the dive bar was an opportunity for me to show them what I could do if they put me in their ranks.

Eddie Hughes was a well-known opportunist whether it came to drugging and/or raping innocent women on nights out. He was on the run from the police, making his way through the states with fake IDs and going under the radar until his next victim. But it was enough for him to end up on the Green List my Grandpapi had created years ago (a list of the worst of humankind that us vampires can feed from without it affecting our moral compass). My mission was to seemingly become his next victim, before arresting him and handing him over to the cops. The challenge was to not to kill the sick bastard. It was a display of control. Because according to my family, I am too emotional and impulsive to be an agent. My vampire side takes over when I’m angry or upset and I act on my killer instincts. But I’m working on it. Trying to prove to them all that I can control my demon and the darkness that lurks beneath my skin could be channelled into something useful. I would be bloody brilliant at this job and they all know it. But control isn’t the only obstacle in my way. My overprotective family, or more specifically, the overprotective men in my family, who all see me as some little princess they must keep directly out of harm’s way, aren’t thrilled with the idea of me voluntarily throwing myself in the line of danger on a daily basis.

“I found the body. Doesn’t that give me some exclusive rights to this case?”

Sienna sighed, rubbing her hand against her forehead, clearly feeling torn between her loyalty to her mate, my Uncle Raiden (just one of those overprotective men in my life), to keep me out of this but also wishing to hear my thoughts. So I turned my focus to Archer Brooks. He was human after all, far easier to manipulate and get on my side. He was already an ally because he was one of my friends, Amelie’s, soul mate but that would only get me so far. I still needed to prove myself.

“Director Brooks, I have some theories. The killer has to be a vampire.”

“Why do you say that?” He leaned his arms on his desk, the cufflinks from his immaculate suit knocking against the wood as his dark eyebrows tightened with interest. “This could have been any species of supernatural. His heart was ripped from his chest and then his body thrown off a building. There were no bite marks to indicate it was a vampire.”

“But the heart had been bitten,” I explained, feeling a rush of excitement at being included. “If I had to guess, two, maybe three, large bites out of it. And from the tearing, very sharp teeth, potentially fangs. So that eliminates lots of species and leaves only vampires and wolves. Wolves don’t actually eat people. They could rip a heart out with their claws, yes. But they would have no need to bite into the organ after. No, that was done because the killer wanted to. Or they needed to give into the blood-thirst.”

“Could have been a hybrid,” Sienna added.

I nodded, agreeing but my gut was telling me it was one of my kind. “Perhaps, the killer was trying to hide the fact it was a vampire by not obviously draining the body of blood but couldn’t resist a bite from the bleeding heart in their hand.”

’I know I couldn’t,’ my demon muttered in my mind.

Archer was now resting his chin in his palm, his eyes vacant as he digested that information with a subtle nod of his head. “If only we could get forensics involved.”

I hummed, chewing at my bottom lip deep in thought. Supernaturals didn’t leave forensic evidence like humans did. DNA couldn’t be found at crime scenes or on the victims bodies which made it that much harder to find these law-breakers. The only thing that could be traced was their scent. No one knew that I had given into my demon and tasted the blood from Sylvester’s butchered heart but I also did it to see if I could detect the scent of the killer. My mouth had watered when a rich, dark flavour lingered in the blood but it was too faint to specifically pinpoint what species.

“Have there been others? Other murders like this one,” I asked him directly, seeking his eye contact in case he refused to tell me. His eyes met mine briefly but it was enough. I heard the answer without him moving his lips, before he quickly looked away. Yes, there had been. My gaze swept down to the stacked profiles on his desk.

“Like Sienna said, we aren’t able to share any information about highly-confidential cases with you until you are officially part of the team. But thanks, Ilaria. Your input was appreciated.”

That was his polite way of telling me to get the f*ck out because he knew I could read his mind and I was making him extremely uncomfortable. I could tell from the quickening pulse throbbing in his throat, the way he fidgeted in his chair and his refusal to look me in the eyes. Fine. They don’t want my help? So be it.

Standing up from the chair abruptly, I clicked my tongue with annoyance but pushed the intense feelings of anger and frustration down. Suppress. Control your emotions. Don’t prove them right.

“I hope you catch them before they do it again. If you need me, you know where I am.” My voice managed to stay remarkably calm and professional but my strained smile was hard to miss. I walked out of his office in the SIA headquarters and headed for the lift. My fingers tapped against my thigh with irritation. There was nothing I hated more than when a plan failed. Or more truthfully, when I don’t get what I want. Because let’s be honest, who enjoys being told no? Unlucky for them, I rarely take no for an answer. Which, granted, can cause problems. But when presented with a barrier to my desires, I will find a way to obliterate it with a f*cking wrecking ball.

Being a pure-blood vampire from a very strong bloodline means that trait is only amplified in me. I’m determined to a fault. When an idea becomes lodged in my brain, no one can talk me out of it, no matter how insane or ridiculous it may be. Some see it as stubbornness. My therapist, Grandma Alina, calls it a form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I prefer determination. And last night only increased that determination to become an agent tenfold. I gave up a perfectly good feed in Eddie Hughes for the chance to be taken seriously by the SIA. If that’s not determination and control, I don’t know what more I can do.

‘I’m getting hangry. Feed me. And not one of those tasteless blood bags. I need to feel a pulse,’ my demon (that I had named Cruella when I was younger after my favourite Disney villain because why the hell not) demanded as if I couldn’t already feel her irritating projection of painful hunger spreading through my veins, making my skin itch and my patience falter. She was downright pissed that I had ignored her urges last night and hadn’t tore an artery in that rapist’s neck. This was the vicious cycle of vampirism. Be moral and do the lawful thing by drinking blood bags equates to a pissed off vampire counterpart whose blood-lust only heightens with their anger. Kill on impulse and satisfy the insatiable thirst and you become the monster you try so hard to contain. There is no winning. My unusual eyes scanned the floor buttons and landed on the training centre for agents. I smirked. Well, maybe there is no winning but there was a grey area. One that currently comes in the form of a huge, muscled human called Ronnie.

Pressing the button for the 3rd floor, the doors closed and my fingers continuously tapped against my thigh, a soothing rhythm that helped me to maintain control until I could meet Cruella’s (or Rue as she prefers to go by) needs. I could have chosen a kill from the Green List but that would mean finding a member of my family to babysit me while I fed and I was too on edge to deal with them right now. That was one of the rules placed upon me by those overprotective men I loved so damn much that I couldn’t even be angry at them for it. If I wanted a live feed or the thrill of a kill, I had to be with either my mum, Uncle Raiden or Grandpapi Arius. Yep, even at the age of twenty-one, they still saw me as needing their protection. They all had vampire sides so could understand the urge but said that when a vampire feeds, they are at their most vulnerable. Distracted. So we always had to feed in pairs. The problem was, feeding was an erotic act. It’s sensual and a good feed was sometimes better than any orgasm imaginable so having my family watch over me while I drank from a human meant holding back that side of myself. It meant forcing the act to become a chore rather than the pleasurable experience I craved it to be. And a girl has needs! It was alright for them. They all had fated mates to feed their lustful, orgasmic side of drinking. I did not. So instead of breaking their rules by killing alone and disappointing them all, which would only cause them upset that I refused to be at the receiving end of, I found a loophole. A grey area. A willing participant.

Strolling over to the large viewing window that overlooked the training gym where many agents were in combat, lifting weights or running on treadmills, I clocked the largest man in the room within seconds. He was hard to miss with his towering frame of solid muscle, shaved brown hair and rugged good looks. He was built like a professional wrestler but had the grit of a soldier that had seen far too much action. With an exceptional track record as a human SIA agent and a legion of admirers, Ronnie was no stranger to female attention.

He was spotting another man who had a barbell above his chest, puffing until he was red in the face. Ronnie’s huge hands hovered just below the bar as he shouted words of encouragement for one more rep while the man’s arms shook like a leaf. Poor bloke looked like he was about to pass out. Before his arms gave way, Ronnie grabbed the bar, lifting it effortlessly and placed it back onto the rack with a teasing smile as the agent sat up, puffing out of his ass. I knocked my knuckles against the glass, gaining Ronnie’s attention as he patted the man on the back. That smile widened and a little twinkle in those brown eyes glimmered when I gestured with my head to the direction of the men’s changing rooms. I’d never seen the man move so fast.

The moment he entered the empty sweat-scented room, I gripped his broad shoulders and spun him around, smashing his back into the door of a private cubicle. Rue was too impatient for small-talk and the arousal in his scent was only adding to the hunger.

“Hey Little Princess, miss me already?” His big goofy grin only grew as I pushed his chest until he fell back on the bench and I locked the door behind me. He may dwarf me in size, but we both knew who was in charge in this scenario. His brown eyes grew heated and he licked his lips as he took in my body from my combat boots, ripped black tights, short black dress to the velvet choker around my neck. Yeah, black was my happy colour. My gothic style wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but Ron sure seemed to love it by the tent his d**k was making in his shorts.

Placing my hands back on his shoulders as I lifted one leg over his lap and then the other so I was straddling his waist, I replied, “Something like that. But call me Little Princess again, I’ll rip your f*cking balls off.”

“Ooo I love it when you talk dirty,” he rumbled. His big hand fell to my waist, his fingers nearly wrapping halfway around me as his other weaved into my white hair. I knew what was coming. He dived forward to try and capture my lips in a kiss like always, but I diverted at the last second to his neck, licking and kissing his skin where his vein pulsed. Kissing was off limits. I’d realised when I had my first kiss and could read the mind of the wannabe alpha-hole without looking into his eyes that kissing gave the same telepathic connection. And the last thing I wanted to hear was their inner monologue while their tongue was in my mouth. He knew that but it never stopped him from trying. And I had to hand it to him. I did love a trier. He groaned with bliss as my hips rocked over his lap, my core sliding and pressing against his erection in slow movements. My body shook with restraint as I held back from biting him until he was worked up enough to feel only pleasure from my fangs instead of pain.

“f**k, Ilaria. Do it, baby. Bite the f*ck out of me,” he groaned, his deep voice barely able to contain his lust. With his permission, my fangs snapped down on their own accord and sunk into the side of his neck. I’d be letting that baby slide just for the sake of his delicious blood. I couldn’t contain my moan as I let go of my inhibitions and allowed my body to do what came naturally. My hips rocked faster, picking up momentum as his warm blood flooded my mouth. His c**k was now rock hard, and the thin material of his shorts and my tights allowed us to feel every sensation while also providing the friction that heated my insides. My p***y started to throb, eager for more and in my blood-lust haze, I had to mentally remind myself that throwing caution to the wind and sliding down on Ronnie’s thick c**k while I drank from him would be a very, very bad move.

Not only was he Sienna’s best friend and that sh*t could get messy, but for vampires, s*x and hunger go hand in hand. When we feed, we become aroused. When we’re aroused, we want to feed. And when we give into both needs at the same time, it is blinding euphoria which very quickly can lead to loss of control. So as much as the need to ride his hard d**k while I gulped his warm, sweet blood was tempting, it was an itch I wasn’t willing to scratch. Not until I met my soulmate. Because to me that sh*t was sacred. To feed and f*ck at the same time, there would be nothing like it and call me sentimental, but I wanted to keep that experience only for him. Whoever the hell he was.

'And they say we're not romantic!' Rue chuckled.

Ronnie’s grip in my hair and on my waist tightened as my eyes rolled back into my head, taking more and more from him. His mouth was agape in pleasure and his eyes shut tight as I rubbed myself along his length. Up. Down. Up. Down. Faster. Faster again.

“Ohh f*ck,” he breathed. “Slow down, Ilaria, I’m going to-”

Yep. We all know how that ended. I removed my fangs from his neck, licking the remnants of his blood that oozed from the bite until it was clean as his body shuddered and then relaxed back against the wall. His chest heaved up and down in heavy pants as I removed myself from his lap, his arms flopping down either side of him lethargically.

I licked my lips, savouring every last drop as he opened his eyes and looked into mine.

Jesus Christ, she’s so f*cking hot. I’d marry this girl just to get off like that for the rest of my life and we didn’t even have s*x. Damn, she got me again.

“I’d be flattered, if I didn’t believe you felt that way about every girl who got you off,” I laughed, rearranging my dress back over my ass.

Realising I had read his mind, his lips twisted into a cheeky grin. “No other girls make me come in my f*cking pants like a teenager, so no. I can’t say that I feel that way about them.”

“Oh stop, you’re making me blush,” I said sarcastically, unlocking the door and stepping up to the vanity sink to check my appearance in the mirror. Ronnie stood up and leaned against the cubicle door with one arm raised, showcasing his muscular body in his reflection.

“When are you going to let me take you out on a proper date?” He asked, watching me as I reapplied my crimson lipstick and puckered my lips.

“We have an arrangement. One that does not require dates. You’re off the hook, remember?” Ronnie was not the kind of guy looking for exclusivity, no matter how much he insisted he could be. He loves the ladies far too much to be committed to just one. So he can put on the charm offensive all he wants, but whispering his sweet nothings doesn’t fool me. Like I said, actions speak louder than words. And the Omega maid who was giggling over his dirty texts in my family’s kitchen yesterday would suggest just that. Not that I cared. I wasn’t the jealous type. And as far as I was concerned, we were both free and single to do as we pleased, using each other for pleasure when the need arose.

“What if I don’t want to be off the hook?” He asked, his gaze climbing my body like a ladder before settling on my ass. “What if I want more than our arrangement?”

“Then, sadly, I’d have to find a replacement. There are plenty of other delicious veins to feed off. Someone far less needy.” I fought the urge to laugh as he slammed his hand over his chest and pretended to fall back into the door.

“Ouch. Way to break a heart!” He stood straight again, smiling with mischief as he stepped forwards and grasped my hips in his hands. “We had fun at your parents anniversary gala, didn’t we? That was a date.”

I sighed. Yeah, okay, I slipped up there. That had been a date for all intents and purposes. And yes, the drama and excitement that unfolded that night had me on a high and horny. We did have s*x but I refused to feed from him during. That’s when our arrangement came about. We’d satisfy each other’s urges but we weren’t dating. And if I fed, we didn’t have s*x and vice versa.

“And your family likes me. They let me take you to the gala so I am sure they’d be fine with us dating.”

“They like you in a ‘he’s not so bad for a human assassin’ kind of way, not in a ‘he’s perfect for our little princess’ way. And they did not let you take me to the gala. I ambushed them at the very last minute so they couldn’t cause a scene in front of hundreds of supernaturals. Trust me, the drama of dating me would not be worth it. Plus, you are human. It would never work. This situationship is so much better for us.”

“Hmm. You could always turn me. That would solve the human thing.” He bent down and nipped the skin on my shoulder as I scoffed. No chance. “But I do get off on sneaking around. Keeps things interesting. Though I’m surprised Little Miss Rebellious cares so much about what others would think.”

I spun around in his arms and narrowed my gaze. “The only people’s opinions I will ever care about are my family. Which is why we keep this our dirty little secret, meathead. You don’t like it? You know where the door is.”

“So brutal.” He smiled wider. Nothing deterred this man.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help finding GI Joe rather entertaining. He stepped back, tugging his gym shorts down his hips and freeing his still semi-hard c**k before stepping out of them. I folded my arms across my chest and raised an eyebrow while he sauntered with so much bloody confidence over to the walk-in shower, turning it on and giving me a front row seat as he lathered up his body with soap.

“Fancy joining me? Or just enjoying the show?” He winked. I scoffed, sliding myself up onto the bathroom counter. If I was going to watch, I might as well make myself comfortable.

“Ronnie?” I placed my palms either side of my hips against the cold surface, tilting my head as I stared at his impressive physique under the steaming water. “Have you been on any murder cases recently where organs of the victims have been bitten?”

He gave me a sideways glance before shaking his head. “Nice try, Detective. But you’re getting nothing out of me.” I huffed, and hung my head to my chest, kicking my legs as they swung back and forth. “Why do you ask? Because of the body you found last night?”

“Yeah. It just sparked this niggling curiosity in me. It’s not like I haven’t seen a dead body before. But I just really want to find out who this killer is and what their motives are. How their mind works. Were they killing for the thrill? The hunger? Revenge? Why not drink from the victim? Why bite the heart but then toss it away? Why leave the body where it would obviously be found? Why not try and hide their tracks? Do they want to be caught? Their actions contradict themselves. If only Archer would let me help with this case and make me an agent.”

“Take a breath, Princess,” Ronnie chuckled and I glared at him for using the title I loathe so much again. “Is this really about you wanting to become an agent? Because it sounds more like a fascination with the killer if you ask me.”

“It’s both. Don’t you find the killers you hunt fascinating?”

“No. I think they are monsters with no control or morals and it’s my job to end them, not to understand them.”

“That is rather narrow-minded, don’t you think? You thought my Uncle was one of those monsters not so long ago and now you’re practically buddies.”

“Well, he did kill a human. But that was different. Bit of advice, your cannibal serial killer is most likely just a psycho. One that you should stay clear from and let the Big Boys take care of.”

Another arrogant wink was tossed my way. I grabbed the bottle of hand lotion and flung it at his head.

“Ow f**k, woman.”

“I wouldn’t talk so highly of yourself when your not-so-big-boy is on full display.”

He roared with laughter, his hand fisting his c**k as I walked past the shower and headed for the door. Okay, so he didn’t have a small d**k by any means. In fact, it was probably slightly larger than average for a human and he knew it but still, why inflate his already gigantic ego?

“It’s not how big it is but how you use it, baby. And you seemed to like it just fine!” He shouted from the shower as I stalked out the door. Arrogant ass.

“For the millionth time, stop with the cutesy name sh*t!” I flipped the switch, plummeting him into darkness before the door shut behind me. I heard him cursing loudly as he fumbled in the dark, slipped and crashed down on his ass causing me to smirk.