A TASTE FOR CONTROL.

by PATRICE MICHELLE.

Prologue

"Sheesh, the crazy things people do for money," Rose Sinclair mumbled as she stared up at the tasteful red and gold Lion's Lair sign.

The regal lion's head insignia reached out and beckoned, tempting her to walk inside the exclusive nightclub. Squaring her tense shoulders, she straightened her black leather miniskirt and smoothed her fitted sweater. Clubbing never had been her thing.

Downtown Chicago was eerily quiet at one o'clock in the morning. She found she missed the sounds of rush-hour traffic and people passing by. Unseasonably warm night air blew against her back as she wrapped her hand around the cool lion's head handle. The music thumped behind the wooden door, begging to be released. As she pulled the heavy door open, the suction caused her hair to blow around her shoulders, temporarily blocking her sight. And that's how she felt...as if she were walking in blind.

"Your invitation, miss?" A burly bouncer stood in her path. He scowled and held out his meaty hand.

Well, damn, and here I thought turning thirty gave me perks. So much for plan "A" of just waltzing right into one of Chicago's premier "invitation only" clubs. Shit. Think of something. Seven grand is riding on this. She opened the snap on the small purse dangling from her shoulder and riffled through it. "I know I have it here somewhere..."

Someone clasped her elbow in a firm grip and said in a deep voice, "She's with me, Charlie."

Rose jerked her gaze to the man standing next to her. Dressed in an expensive Italian suit, the stranger stood about seven inches taller than her own five-foot-six-inch frame. Skimming past his square jaw, she noted his completely shaved head only accentuated his overall stocky build. She met his serious hazel gaze and guessed him to be in his late forties. When Charlie stepped aside to allow them to pass, she smiled in gratitude at the stranger.

The man escorted Rose inside the posh nightclub, his taller frame shadowing her through the throng of people. The raised dance floor flashed in a kaleidoscope of colors to the thump of the music, while patrons gyrated to the upbeat song. Expensive perfumes and colognes added to the excited atmosphere. Rose was surprised that even at this late hour the club was packed as if the evening had just started. Her eyes adjusted to the dim, murky atmosphere as the stranger led her past the dance floor.

"Have a drink with me."

The deep register of his voice blended in with the music's beat, inviting and alluring, making her want to agree. She nodded and allowed him to direct her to a corner booth in the back of the club.

As they sat down in the plush red velvet cushions, her gaze scanned the patrons. From college-age to people in their forties, they all appeared to be having a blast and...perfectly normal. How did one go about discovering if vampires really existed? Carry a mirror around and maybe a wooden stake, too? The thought made her smile just as much as this wild-goose chase she was on. Vampires...what a crock. If it were Halloween she'd have a much easier time coming up with some kind of proof for her client.

"What amuses you?" her escort asked, an intrigued expression on his face.

Rose jerked her gaze to his. He'd been so quiet she'd almost forgotten about him as she scoped out the clientele.

She extended her hand across the table. "I'm Rose. Thank you for helping me get past Mr. I'm-two-seconds-from-bouncing-your-rear-outta-here."

The man chuckled as he clasped her hand. "James Connor." He surprised her when he rubbed his thumb along her palm and finished, "It was my pleasure."

A strange tingling jolt shot up her arm as his skin brushed hers. Unnerved by the sensation, she quickly pulled her hand away. When James' lips quirked upward in amusement, she resisted the urge to rub her palm on her skirt.

"Your order, sir?"

Rose glanced at the waiter who stood by their table awaiting a response.

"Whiskey straight up and a glass of Pinot Grigio for the lady," James ordered for them.

Both irritated and surprised he'd ordered correctly, Rose waited until the waiter had walked away. "Do I look like the Pinot Gris type?"

He gave her an indulgent smile. "It suited you. I'm very good at reading people."

"Ahh." She nodded her understanding. The ability to read others had always been one of her best talents, so much so her colleagues had teased her about her deadly accurate skill. That talent that had come in handy with every private investigation case she'd worked on. Yet, she couldn't tell what she thought of James. An aura of ambiguity hung around him, literally emanating from him. She neither felt nor sensed his "good guy" status as she'd been able to do with most people she met.

The waiter arrived with their drinks and then hurried off. She picked up her glass and appreciated the faint peach scent before she took a sip. The medium-bodied flavor danced on her tongue, making her smile in appreciation as she swallowed.

Rose looked up to see James staring at her. He'd leaned back in his seat, his expression interested as he held his glass and swirled the amber liquid around.

"What brings you to the Lion's Lair?" His darkened gaze swept her body, lingering at her breasts, before returning to her face.

He was apparently a regular at the club based on the bouncer's deference to him. Maybe he'd be the perfect person to ask about this whole vampire thing. And if he thought she was destined for the loony bin for asking, at least she wouldn't have to worry about ditching him later.

With a smile on her lips, she leaned back in her seat and raised her glass in a salute. "I'm hunting for vampires."

As she took another sip of her wine, she almost choked at the heated look that flashed across his face before he quickly masked it.

James threw back his drink and set the empty glass on the table. With an intense expression, he asked, "And what would you do with a vampire if you caught him?"

The fact he didn't laugh at her statement but instead seemed willing to indulge her surprised her. Why not throw fuel on the flame?

"I'd handcuff myself to him so he couldn't get away." She gave her saucy answer then leaned forward to continue in a conspiratorial tone, "You see, I'd need proof that he was indeed a vampire."

"Would you take him home with you so you could get all your answers?" He raised a dark eyebrow.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm a very persuasive woman. I wouldn't have to take him home to get the answers I seek."

A slow grin crossed his face before he spoke in a low, serious tone, "What if I were to tell you that there are at least twenty vampires in this room right now?"

"I'd say you're really working it hard," she said with a laugh while she mentally rolled her eyes. He's got to be pulling my leg, because this is just too easy to be true.

An annoyed look crossed his face. "I speak the truth, Rose."

His serious tone gave her pause. Her stomach tensed at the thought vampires might really exist...nah!

Deciding to humor him, she pulled out a pen and small notepad from her purse. "What are their names?"

James flipped his hand in a dismissive manner. "Some are vampri and the rest are young pups. What you need is a pureblood master."

At the emphasis he put on the word "master" Rose glanced up at him in surprise, her pen poised over the notepad.

"Pardon me?" Her feminist ire started to rise.

Running his finger around the rim of the glass, James lifted his gaze to hers. "There are five vampire clans that make up the race of vampires called the Kendrians-Kantres, Rueans, Norridens, Arryns and the Sythens."

Rose wondered at the veracity of his statement for all of two seconds before she began scribbling the names of the clans. Something told her she'd hit pay dirt and there was no way she'd stop now. "Go on," she prodded, her heart racing once she'd written the names down.

"Some clan members have lived for centuries."

"Immortal?" She looked up, shocked at his calm delivery, while her own heart raced. The man was dead serious.

He shook his head. "Not immortal, but beings who live for a very long time."

She felt as if she'd stepped into another dimension, but hey, may as well go with what she knew...er...or thought she knew-thank God for late-night TV shows. If he was offended by her questions, so be it. But by the details the man was giving her, he was telling her the truth...at least as he saw it. She'd heard of people who believed they were actually vampires, even going so far as living the lifestyle.

"Do they avoid sunlight and drink blood?" she continued.

James nodded. "Each clan has its own special attributes that make the members unique to that clan."

She glanced at her notes. "You mentioned vampri and purebloods. What's the difference?"

"Purebloods are born vampire. Vampri are 'made' vampires by those with pure blood running through their veins."

"Made?" she asked.

"'Made' means that the person was bitten by a vampire three times in as many days," he answered in a patient tone.

Bitten? Ayeyeyeyye! I just had to ask, didn't I?

Resisting the urge to shiver at the thought, she finished her wine off then jotted down more notes. Her client wanted as much proof as possible. She needed to delve a little deeper. Everything James had told her so far was just his take. Still she had no real proof.

"With the distinctions of purebloods, vampris, and even clan names, you speak as if these Kendrians are a whole community. Where do regular, everyday people fit in among these vampires in your world?"

"We are a whole community, and you fit in tastefully well, my dear," James said in a husky tone as he circled his finger slowly around the glass rim, causing the harmonics to resonate throughout the crystal.

Rose stared at the glass and realized he was making it do that while it was empty. Instead of the glass emanating at the same tone as it should if it held some liquid, the sound changed pitch up and down, almost as if in a chant of some kind. Then the meaning behind his words hit her... "We are a whole community, and you fit in tastefully well..."

She jerked her gaze to his, fear spiking. Rose's heart hammered against her chest and her stomach pitched. Great, instead of worrying about others thinking she was nuts to ask about vampires, she'd just picked the one wacko in the whole crowd. Did she have I'm a freak-magnet stamped on her forehead?

James' lustful gaze traveled her body before he met her surprised stare. He smiled, displaying two long fangs. The loud music and club-goers' voices faded into the background, leaving only the song's bass thumping in her head. Then his voice entered her mind, adding to the cadence. You wanted proof. How better than to show you?

Okaaaaaay, normally she wasn't one to shy from strange things that go bump in the night. She enjoyed a good horror flick just like the rest of the population, but this was just too freaking weird and, holy cow...real! I'm out of here!

When the roar of the crowd and music came slamming back, chill bumps spread on her arms at the same time a shiver overtook her. Rose stood and flipped her notebook closed. "Well, that went well. Er, better than expected, actually."

"Sit down, Rose." His voice was low, seductive, almost compelling. He smiled again and she saw his fangs retract back to their normal size. Sheesh, like a light switch!

She paused for a second, feeling the calming pull of his words, but shook off the sensation as she looked at her watch. "Sorry to chat and run, but I've got an early day tomorrow."

James' expression changed from compelling seduction to surprise before a calm look settled. She hesitated, curious. Why had he seemed surprised?

"You'll forget what we spoke of this night." His tone turned serious...almost commanding.

Again with the pulling and tugging sensation. What was that? she wondered. Inexplicable curiosity and fear fought for dominance within her before fear won out. She started to back away. "Uh, as much as I'd like to, it's unlikely I'll be able to forget tonight for a very long time."

"Rose, wait, there's more..." James called out at the same time he flagged the passing waiter.

He sure knew how to dangle a carrot. Seven thousand dollars...seven thousand dollars, echoed in her head. She hesitated while he ordered another round.

Once the waiter walked away, James met her gaze with a sincere expression. "Aren't you curious to know the rest?"

Chapter One

Duncan Mordoor, wake up, I've been pounding on your door for ten minutes!

Duncan awoke to the sound of a woman's voice in his head. Her commanding tone pulled him out of the deep sleep he'd fallen into.

Lifting his head, he looked down at his wristwatch, his mind groggy as he frowned at the time. Four-thirty in the morning. I've been asleep all of two hours, Sabryn, he responded to her mentally as he got out of bed. I'm coming.

Pulling on a pair of black silk lounge pants, Duncan padded down the wide spiral staircase and across his gleaming oak wood floor to open the door.

Sabryn swept her gaze down his body. "You look sexy and well-tumbled. Did I interrupt something?" She raised a perfectly arched dark eyebrow, a curious expression on her face.

With a seductive grin, he reached out and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her. As she leaned back against the wall, he put his hand on the wall above her and met her gaze. "Are you sure you don't want to be the one who's well-tumbled, love?"

Something akin to desire flashed through her beautiful lavender eyes before she shrouded it behind a wall of indifference. She let her gaze slide over his body while she ran a perfectly manicured nail down his naked chest to the waistband of his pants.

"You tempt me more than most." The promise of her sultry words, and her fingers tugging on the string at his waist, made his cock jump to attention. He started to step closer when she finished, "But that's not why I'm here."

Duncan mentally unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse in turn, revealing her generous cleavage. "Are you sure?" he suggested in a husky tone. He glanced at the window. "It'll be light soon and you'll need a place to stay." His voice dropped to a deep rumble as he drew his finger down her chest. "My bed is still warm."

Duncan knew that if he pushed Sabryn, he could have her in his bed in less than five minutes. It had always been this way between them, teasing sexual innuendo, not based so much on intense sexual attraction but more due to mutual appreciation and respect for one another.

Once, years ago, he'd had a glimpse into Sabryn's guarded mind and learned she held a good deal of hurt inside. He knew she'd be a great lay, but he respected her too much to just offer her sexual gratification. He had nothing else to give. The last thing he wanted to do was contribute to whatever emotional issues she carried around. But it never hurt to stroke her ego once in a while, and damn, if she didn't make an awesome sparring partner.

She leaned close to him, her alluring perfume teasing his senses as she whispered in his ear, "As much as I adore this gorgeous body of yours..." She paused and kissed him on his cheek before sidestepping him to walk into the living room. "I'm here on official business," she continued as she buttoned her blouse.

Duncan ran a hand through his hair and followed her into his living room. "What official business?"

She trailed her fingers along the back of his leather couch before she walked around it and settled on the arm, her expression once more composed and businesslike. "It seems you did such a great job helping Ian hunt down Drace, he's asking for your help once more."

Duncan's gut clenched at her news. Why didn't he know Ian needed him? At the same time guilt gnawed at him, his suspicions kicked in. "If Ian needed my help, I'd have sensed it, Sabryn." The truth was, ever since Ian had found his Anima, his vampire mate, in Jax Markson, Duncan had felt the distance grow between him and his twin, as if he were drifting away from his brother.

The realization caused him to take more and more to his music, performing at as many venues as he could book. On a few rare occasions he'd play until the wee hours, hence the two hours of sleep before Sabryn arrived.

"Ah, but your brother is more than a 'rogue' hunter nowadays. Leading the Ruean clan carries with it many responsibilities, including attending the Kendrian leaders' summit."

"What does that have to do with me?" He'd managed not to think about how he and Ian had drifted lately. Sabryn had brought it all slamming back, even if inadvertently.