Magicstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 4) by Amber Kallyn Page B

ignored the censuring glares and
the mumbled comments from Kurtz about how she was screwing up the
case and headed straight for her office. Brandon closed the door,
then leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. One of
the reports was on her desk and she grabbed it, then headed for the
door.
    Brandon didn’t move, blocking her way.
    She met his gaze, feeling the warmth of him
pressing against her, asking her to let him in.
    “What now?” she asked.
    “What do you dream about?” he replied, his
voice tense.
    “Nothing.”
    His jaw tightened.
    “You want to move?”
    Finally he turned, opening the door and
waving for her to lead. She did, but could feel his gaze burning a
spot in the center of her back.
    In the coroner’s office, she found Frankie.
“What are you still doing here?”
    The woman glanced up tiredly. “Your killer’s
keeping us busy. Doesn’t seem to care we need sleep, at least some
of the time.”
    “Yeah. Is the post for this new victim
done?”
    “Just finished typing it up.”
    The printer hummed and Celeste read the pages
as they came out. “So nothing new?”
    “Not that I could find.”
    “Great.” She turned to Brandon. “Ready to go
back and check the first couple scenes?”
    He nodded and, with a quick thanks, they left
the morgue.
    Outside, she headed straight for her car,
raising an eyebrow at him when he stopped at his bike. “I’ll
drive.”
    He shrugged and got in the passenger side.
The drive to the first scene was heavy with tension. Neither of
them spoke.
    She was aware of his presence on so many
levels it would have been annoying if it wasn’t so uncomfortably
stressful.
    When she finally pulled up along the alley of
the first murder, she shut off the car, waited for him to get out,
then leaned back in her seat with a sigh of relief.
    She watched him until he disappeared between
the buildings, trying to talk herself into getting out. Her mind
kept whispering she didn’t need to. It wasn’t like there was
anything she could do. It was all up to him.
    But it was her job and she was no coward.
    Resigned, she pushed her door open.
    In the alley, Brandon had already sketched a
few runes she hadn’t seen. Still couldn’t see.
    His shoulders bunched as she approached, but
he ignored her as he worked.
    The tension heightened, until finally, she
faced him. “Either tell me what crawled up your ass, or yank out
the stick, but I’m not dealing with this. I have more important
things to think about.”
    Slowly, he rose, turning to her. His eyes
blazed red and fangs peeked from between his lips.
    A shiver crawled up her spine, but she
refused to back down.
    “I don’t have,” he growled, “as you put it,
‘a stick up my ass’.”
    “Something’s certainly wrong.” She met his
gaze, glaring right back.
    He stepped closer. Her shiver turned from
anger to something even more annoying. The heat of desire.
    “What do you dream about?” he whispered
seductively, taking another step towards her.
    The heat and power radiating from him brushed
over her skin.
    She unconsciously stepped back, then bit her
lip at the sign of weakness. “What does it matter?”
    He closed the distance between them and she
found herself scrambling back at the fierceness in his gaze. Her
hand rose, resting on the butt of her gun.
    His gaze flickered toward her movement and he
smiled like a cat about to pounce. “Going to shoot me now?”
    She sighed, dropping her hand. “Not that it
would do me any good.” But oh, at this moment, how she wanted to.
It would serve him right and wipe that smirk off his face.
    He edged even closer, his body a hairsbreadth
away. The brick wall at her back kept her trapped.
    “What do you dream about, Celeste?”
    “Nothing of any importance.” She damn well
wasn’t going to admit she’d been asking him to join her in bed.
    His mouth twisted. “Last night, I was
attacked in O’Grady’s parking lot.”
    Her breath caught. “What? Why didn’t you