A Vampire in Vegas by Elise Noble

Author:Elise Noble
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Undercover Publishing Limited

CHAPTER 30 - JACK

“YOU’RE BUYING THE drinks tonight,” Shep told me as we prepared to leave the squad room late on Wednesday evening. It had been a long, long shift.

“I caught the Meadows Maniac and made you look good, so shouldn’t you be the one opening your wallet?”

“How does that square with you telling me I had to buy donuts for the whole department on my birthday last month?”

Okay, I had to give him that one. Truth be told, I’d never understood the office-birthday tradition—having to spend half a day’s salary on treats, including vegan and gluten-free options, only for other people to eat them. The day I turned thirty, I’d been called into a meeting with the captain right after I arrived at the station, and when it finally ended, only crumbs were left.

“And besides,” Shep continued, “you might have been the one who cuffed the Maniac, but you had help with the catching.” One corner of his lips twitched. “Are you gonna call Whitney?”

A neighbour of Whitney Pruitt, the Maniac’s intended victim, had dialled 911 when she heard a noise in their shared yard. I’d only been five minutes away when the call came through, but by the time I got there, Whitney—who happened to be the Nevada ladies’ taekwondo champion—had basically handed the guy his nuts in a carrier bag. A recycled-paper carrier bag, judging by the size-too-small “Save the Planet” T-shirt she wore. All I’d needed to do was Mirandize the asshole. He even held out his hands for the cuffs. And afterwards, when Whitney had finished giving her statement, she’d not-so-subtly given me her phone number too, a move that hadn’t escaped Shep’s notice.

Back in the days when I used to play the dating game, I’d never thought of myself as having a type. But if I did have a type, Whitney wasn’t it. Call me picky, but I liked my women to have less testosterone than I did.

And just lately, it seemed I’d also liked my women to have pink hair, expensive taste in wine, and an aversion to sunlight.

Two and a half weeks since we first crossed paths, and I still couldn’t get Vee out of my head. When I first met Angie, I felt as if I’d been hit by a train. With Vee, it had been different. More like getting run over by a steamroller. A little trip and she’d caught my foot, then I’d been helpless as she gradually sucked in the rest of me, from the moment we’d shared in Lucian Blane’s bathroom to that ridiculous dinner at La Nostra Casa. When I saw her climbing into the cab with that prick from the club, she’d crushed my heart, and over the past two weeks, she’d flattened me completely.

I’d tried to stay away from her.

I’d failed.

When I went out to buy lunch on my days off, I found myself picking up food for her too. When I watched TV late at night to help myself sleep, I wished she was lying next to me.

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