Free Enemy Mine by Karin Harlow

we’re dealing with, Marcus?” Cassidy asked.
    “Some illegal controlled substance, not of your kind,” he flatly said.
    Nikko knew there was more to it. Much more. “Like what, vampire steroids?” he demanded.
    Cross’s face had hardened to granite, and Nikko felt his seething anger. “In a word, yes.”
    “ Is there such a substance?” Cassidy asked.
    Cross hissed in a breath, then evenly said, “There have been attempts in the past. But it’s strictly forbidden. The penalty is death for producing, distributing, or possession.”
    “But it’s possible?” Godfather asked.
    Cross nodded. “Possible, and”—he looked at Nikko—“probable.”
    “How do I get rid of it?” Nikko demanded.
    “A transfusion might dilute it, but like my blood, once it gets into your system, it doesn’t leave, it only wanes. Except it appears to be doing the opposite in you.” Cross stepped closer to Nikko. “Have you had any visions or nightmares? Since you returned?”
    “I haven’t slept since I came to on the side of that road in Kyrgyzstan. Why?”
    “Curious if you’ve felt the pull of a stranger. When a human receives vampire blood, regardless of how he or she received it, there is a telepathic bond with the donor.”
    “What if the donor is dead?” Cassidy asked.
    Cross smiled down at her and smoothed away a lock of hair from her cheek. “A very good question, love. In that case there would be no contact.”
    “Is it possible that someone or some thing is draining vampires, then killing them?”
    Cross scowled. “If vampires were being drained and dying for it, there would be an uprising in a world you humans have no idea exists. However”—he strode up to the screen and tapped Selena’s face—“this one attracts the type of people who have their finger on the pulse of the underworld. We start with her.”
    Godfather looked pointedly at Nikko. “Pack your bags, you’re going to Miami.” He looked at Cross. “I’d consider it a personal favor, one I will be happy to repay, if you tag along. Cassidy goes with you both.”
    “Of course,” Cross said.
    Nikko was already headed for the door.

CHAPTER SIX

    A fter Joran’s visit, Selena tried to think of anything except Johnny, her father, and the anger Señor would express when she told him of her failure to secure the cask. Always in control, now she was out of sorts, off-balance. Her office felt like a cage, the air stifling. Too much pressure. Too much to do. And save the world while you’re at it. The urge to bolt and never look back had never been stronger. Her temple throbbed. She rubbed it and sat down at her desk.
    She wanted the quiet sanctity of her house. Rarely did she leave the club before closing, but tonight she would instruct Amy Siedlecki, her GM, to take care of it. Selena wanted the solace of solitude and her big, comfortable bed. And sleep.
    In minutes, she was at her private dock, then on her Chris-Craft motorboat motoring toward her sprawling Mediterranean manse on Star Island. The mortgage was hefty but the protection priceless. There, surrounded by water, the chance of her father or any daemon getting into her head was nil. Daemons were terrified of water; even big bad Hellkeepers avoided it at all costs. Luckily, she had not inherited that inconvenient trait from her sperm donor.
    She docked and disembarked, thinking how nice it would be to have a regular dockmaster/groundsman greet her when she left for work or returned. But that was not in the cards. The fewer people she interacted with regularly, the better. It greatly reduced the chance of her father possessing someone close to her. It was why no one else knew of Marisol’s existence. Paymon could not hold anyone’s mind hostage for that information. Not even Selena’s. While her mother had failed to keep Paymon out of her thoughts and dreams, Selena was half-daemon and possessed the knowledge and will-power to keep her mind closed to the most determined daemon.
    That