Blood and Sex Volume 1:Michael

A Ravenous Romance™ Fantastica™ Original Publication

Angela Cameron

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publicationwww.ravenousromance.com

Blood and Sex Volume 1: Michael

Copyright © 2009 by Angela Cameron

Ravenous Romance™100 Cummings CenterSuite 125GBeverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-111-1

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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Chapter One

Victoria Tyler knelt in front of the nude corpse in the dark alley between the worn

brick buildings of Third Street, the home of Collins Bay’s strip clubs, peep shows, and

tattoo parlors. She managed to tune out the traffic roaring down the streets that met the

alley on either side, but when the scent of blood and garbage wafted upward on the

sudden breeze, her stomach flipped. She breathed out hard, just like she always did to

clear the smell of death from her nose, and fought back the twinge of nausea.

Her hand was steady as she used the slim metal pointer to move a blood-matted

clump of long blonde hair away from the corpse’s neck. She saw a big bruise that

matched the others that were scattered across the body. She aimed the flashlight at the

spot, but couldn’t tell exactly how old the injury was. The mix of hot days and cool

nights could do strange things to a body in Florida in October.

Another dark spot peeked out from beneath the girl’s arm, and Tori gently raised

it for a better look. Just to the left of the breast was a circle of bloody dots and dashes,

with long trails of fluid that crusted on the skin. She’d bet they’d find more bruises,

just like this one, when the body wasn’t slumped beside a dumpster on a cloud-covered

night. After all, the bite marks were why the newspaper had given the killer the name

“Bay Gnasher.”

Footsteps shuffled behind her. She glanced up and saw Joe Phillips looking over

her shoulder. Joe was one of Collins’ finest, a clean cut uniform with dark hair that

remained in a perpetual crew cut. He was a little cheesy and a few brain cells short

of detective material, but he seemed nice enough. He’d been with the force for years,

even before she started, and tried to downplay his interest in crime scene investigation,

but they all knew. It was hard not to know when he never stopped talking about those

damned forensics shows on television.

Tori shook her head to fight back a smile that tickled her lips, and then motioned to

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the mark. “What does this look like to you, Joe?”

He hovered over her shoulder, and his uniform pressed against her back. If he’d

been anyone else, she’d have clocked him for invading her space. “Bite marks?”

“Looks like it.” She glanced again at the woman’s wrist, where a hunk of flesh was

missing, then to what was left of a youthful face. Such a shame. “You said no one was

around when you found her, right?”

“Yeah.”

Tori stood so quickly that Joe stumbled back to dodge her shoulder.

“Alright, get statements from everyone who is within sight of this dumpster,

including those apartments.” She pointed down the alley, toward another brick building

that erupted from the concrete at the opposite end. “If they’re not home, come back

tomorrow. Right now, we have nothing and this guy’s got eight victims in two months. I

don’t think he plans to slow down anytime soon.”

“We’ll get on it, Tori.”

She gave him a pat on the shoulder. If they did great work, they’d save her a lot of

time. “I know you will.”

She didn’t watch Joe turn, but heard his clinking footsteps move toward a cluster of

cops drinking coffee and laughing about something, probably a dirty joke. She glanced

around once more and saw something glinting from under the edge of the dumpster.

She bent and pulled it forward with her pointer.

It was a key with a smooth black plastic tag and shiny silver ring. She fished the

metallic point through the ring and balanced it closer to her face. Stamped on the tag,

in blood red, was a three-part symbol similar to a yin-yang. A private room key from

The Scene. She shook her head and sighed. Of all the places to be involved, a club for

vampire BDSM junkies hadn’t been on her short list, especially one with a reputation

for being the last location of so many missing persons.

“What’s that? Find something?”

Tori folded the key ring into her hand and closed the pointer for distraction. She

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turned her head and saw Joe squinting from the edge of a crowd of officers.

“Nothing. Just a piece of garbage.” She tucked both into her jacket pocket and

moved toward the group.

Vampiro involvement was one thing, but The Scene was out of her league. She’d

have to call in some help. She shivered at the thought. Those walking leeches couldn’t

be trusted, not one of them, but going into that club without a dominatore was just plain

asking for it. She was the only unbound human in the city with knowledge of them.

She didn’t plan to become one of their mindless goons anytime soon.

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