Free Dracula's Secret by Linda Mercury Page A

herself again. Draculs did not cry, especially male Draculs. Both of her parents had beaten weeping out of her. Valerie swallowed her tears, instead giving herself over to the heat of his blood.
    She tightened her thighs, massaging her clit against her panties. An orgasm teased but remained elusive. Valerie refused to lie to herself anymore. She wanted more. She needed more. If she didn’t get more, she’d go insane with wanting. How could she stay away from her light-bringer? When was the last time she had felt hope?
    Valerie’s earrings seemed to drag at her. How could she survive if she were responsible for another lover’s death? If she lost this one ...
    No. She would not fear failure.
    Radu wasn’t going anywhere, she told herself. She could kill him anytime. Blood like this only came along once in a long lifetime. She tucked her soaking wet hair behind her ears and looked down at him.
    From her vantage point, Valerie could see Lance had spoken truly. He healed fast—vampire fast. His bare chest shone in the rain and the streetlights as the wounds closed. He leaned against the building, waiting on yet another person to take his statement. Cameras and reporters lined the yellow police tape.
    An idea hovered on the edge of her consciousness as she watched the torn tissues knit together.
    Radu wanted him dead.
    She wanted Radu dead.
    Radu or his man would come for the priest again and next time, be better prepared for the man’s unique talents.
    The only sure way to catch her brother would be to stay very, very close to one Lance Soleil.
    He would be her irresistible bait in an unstoppable trap. It was a perfect plan. She settled her coat around herself.
    Rigid self-honesty forced her to admit this plan was concerned with having more of his delectable body than Radu’s death. May Lucifer’s home have mercy on what soul she might have.
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    At midnight, the police left with the tiger, one Roger Corbetti, in custody. The firemen rinsed away the last of the gore, coiled their hoses, and left. Valerie stared down at Lance as he inspected his weapon. His shoulders drooped. The way he shifted his feet suggested exhaustion.
    He looked utterly edible.
    This mortal intrigued her. Everything from his wicked bright aura to his guarded eyes to his exquisite handling of a pistol fascinated her. Purity and danger, all tied up in one perfectly shaped package.
    He pulled out his little phone. “Jane? Yeah, I got delayed.”
    Whoever Jane was, she wasn’t his lady. Despite the darkness spotting his aura, he wasn’t the sort to give one woman the come-hither when he was committed elsewhere.
    â€œNo, I did not get attacked by a lion.”
    Jane said something indistinct in reply.
    â€œIt was a tiger.”
    Valerie twitched her lips at his deadpan delivery. Funny guy.
    â€œOh, thank God.”
    Fortunately, Valerie was too old to twitch at the Holy Name.
    â€œI’ll come in after some food and sleep, since things have calmed down. You rock, girl.” He hung up.
    No more waiting.
    Though the crowd had disappeared, a few die-hard photographers remained. Valerie narrowed her eyes. How could she arrange privacy for her plans?
    A gentle push from her toes and she dropped from the rooftop. Soft as a leaf, she landed behind the paparazzi.
    One by one, she hunted them.
    Before the war, she would have cut their throats or broken their necks. Before the war, she would have fed royally. Now, though? She had to be careful.
    The first fell from a strike to the carotid. The next she hit at the base of the skull. One by one, she dropped them to the ground unconscious. The hunt was almost as satisfying without the kill.
    Valerie set aside her disappointment. Even with the eight photographers’ slow, healthy heartbeats in her ears, Lance’s clove-laden breath and pulse overrode her hunger.
    She walked up to him.
    â€œExcuse me.”
    He turned at her voice. His blue eyes