Chapter 2

Seven months ago

Sometimes it was just easier to put her mind at ease by sitting in a dark corner of a dingy bar and nurse a glass of good old Scotch whisky, to be surrounded by people but still be alone.

Especially on days like she'd just had, she needed this. She knew she couldn't save everyone, knew that not all her searches could have a good outcome, but it still tore her heart apart every time she was too late. She specialized in kidnappings and missing persons with her PI firm; most of the time she went on the searches alone, but Graham and Ruby helped whenever she needed them. Not that it happened often - she was a very powerful witch after all. She could detect scents and hear sounds as well as Graham and Ruby with the help of charms, but sometimes attacking from several sides was advantageous.

At least today she didn't have to ask herself if going in with Graham and Ruby would have changed anything. She'd discovered where the kidnappers were holding Claire too late. When she'd arrived at the scene she'd smelled the unmistakable odor of a rotting corpse and she'd forced herself to stay detached as she'd gone in to make sure it was Claire and not someone or something else.

Lifting the glass to her mouth, she inhaled the sharp peat scent of the whisky in her hand, trying to forget the smell and sight that had greeted her when she'd stepped into the room earlier. She'd called the police who offered to tell Claire's parents, but Emma refused, driving to the Franklin's home to tell them herself. It never got easier, no matter how often she had to deliver bad news, and some days she wondered why she'd decided to pursue this line of work to begin with.

It had felt right all those years ago when she came back to the city with a broken heart and the knowledge that someone had wiped part of her memory clean. She'd lost twelve months of her life, and she'd have been furious if it wasn't clear that she'd agreed to it. For someone to erase each and every single memory of that year she had to have given her consent. It wouldn't have been possible otherwise, since not even a powerful witch could have done it that cleanly.

For the first few days she'd felt completely wrecked, her heart telling her that she'd lost something important. But she also knew that she'd only let go of her memories because there had been no other way. She must have taken that drastic measure for a reason, and she'd promised herself she wouldn't poke at it.

She'd met Graham three weeks later in this exact same bar, and somehow they'd clicked right from the start, though there had never been any romantic feelings involved, no sexual vibe. Not that she would ever start something with a vampire to begin with; she wasn't really into getting her blood sucked out of her body on a constant basis.

Graham had been the one who suggested she should try out the PI field, had told her that it would suit her. And he'd been right. It was exactly what she needed to let the past stay in the past and move forward.

They'd moved in together a month later. Graham wanted to get away from his overbearing father who wanted him to take over the reigns sooner or later, something Graham had no interest in. His father was the head of the Vampire Council and Graham hated politics with a passion. He was content with running a vampire club and with helping Emma from time to time.

Living with him turned out to be easier than expected. Graham was a great roommate. Due to being a descendant of one of the old vampire clans he was able to walk in daylight, so they didn't have to shut down their windows during the day or need access to a basement in which Graham could spent his days. He could almost live a normal life, if you overlooked the fact that he needed to drink at least two liters of blood every day to stay sane and healthy. She tried not to think about that too often.

After all, sharing an apartment definitely had advantages for both of them – living with a witch left a taint on Graham's reputation, making it almost impossible for him to ever join the council, something that made his father furious. Not that Graham really cared, though. And Emma didn't have to be alert all hours of the day and night. Witches normally lived in covens to protect themselves, since only their combined strengths could effectively keep the supernatural males at bay. Mating with a witch gave you incredible power for a few hours, so witches needed to shield themselves against attacks. But no one ever even considered touching her while she lived under Graham's protection, something she found out very quickly. Most of the supernatural population cowered in front of him, knowing that he or his family could destroy them in a blink of an eye. She could defend herself quite well, but not needing to have her guard up all the time was definitely a bonus.

Having a vampire as a roommate had a lot of perks, especially since he started dating a werewolf. Ruby had turned out to be a great friend, and being friends with a werewolf also kept the male wolves at bay. Emma couldn't remember a time when she could walk through the supernatural world with such ease, without expecting a threat around every corner.

Life was good. Most of the time.

But seeing Graham and Ruby together … she was happy for her friends. Their relationship might not be normal, but they fit together. She didn't begrudge them their happiness, but watching them being all cozy made her heart ache with loneliness sometimes. Which was kind of ridiculous, since she'd sworn to herself she would never get romantically involved with a man ever again. Neal's betrayal all those years ago still hurt; she almost didn't make it out alive and she definitely learned her lesson. Never to trust anyone with her heart ever again.

So whenever the ache in her heart or the horrible pictures of her work threatened to bring her down she went to this bar. She could just sit here and drink a few whiskeys while observing the other patrons, watching the humans mingle with vampires and werewolves without knowing it. Sometimes she wondered how the human population was still living in oblivion to the supernatural world. She'd met a few in her line of work and most of them weren't stupid. Maybe it was just easier to pretend that the things that go bump at night only existed in fiction; the reality was perhaps too much to comprehend without going insane.

Being detected wasn't really a problem anymore, since a few witches had developed a vaccine fifty years ago that made human blood toxic for vampires as long as they weren't willing participants. They couldn't be coerced into it, and a compulsion didn't erase the protective effect of the vaccine. Deaths caused by blood loss had gone down considerably after that, with the vampire population being forced to find a substitute. Nowadays synthetic blood tasted like blood coming from a living body so that drinking blood directly from human veins was more about pleasure than survival. After all, vampires could still make humans forget what had happened to them, so the supernatural world had still managed to stay a secret.

The rest of the supernatural population had never affected the human world much anyway. The werewolves stayed with their packs during full moon, and human casualties were few and far in between. The fairies, pixies and elves never stepped in their world to begin with and demons couldn't without being summoned.

That made bars like the 'Rascals' where all the different species mingled together even possible, and one of the reasons Emma loved to come here. She loved people watching without getting disturbed and ...

"Hello, beautiful."

She almost rolled her eyes upon hearing that stupid pickup line. It'd probably be followed by the 'heaven is missing an angel' crap. Why men even tried to pick her up was a mystery to her. She didn't put out any vibes, didn't wear clothes that highlighted her female assets, and she never made eye contact with anyone in here. She came here to relax, not to flirt or find an unsatisfying one-night stand. But men still kept trying to engage her in conversation.

"Hey, handsome," she shot back, opening all her senses to make sure he was human before she brushed him off. After all, she didn't want to provoke an unnecessary fight. "How about you turn around and take your ass back to where it came from?"

"Feisty. I like that."

He sent her a dazzling smile that made her look at him closer, and she had to admit he was definitely handsome. Dark hair that looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed after a sweaty time between the sheets, eyes that were such a startling blue that she couldn't keep her body from reacting, and his cheeks were covered by just the right amount of scruff. Not to mention that accent, the cocky smirk and that swagger of his hips, ass encased in tight leather pants, a red velvet vest over a black ruffled shirt completing the outfit. Not something she hadn't seen before, since she was living with a vampire after all. And they loved their leather, though admittedly the stranger in front of her pulled it off better than most vampires did. Leaning back, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked him up and down, curious if she'd be able to rattle his confidence.

"Not interested, buddy," she said. A blatant lie, but he didn't know that.

"Okay, here's the thing, love." He didn't even falter under her scrutiny, his smile broadening even more as he leaned against the wooden post of the booth and looked down at her. "I'm bored, you're bored. So how about I keep you company and entertain you with stories about the patrons in here."

"Fake or real?"

"Reality is boring," he replied, his fingers curling around his belt buckle while he waved his other hand around. "Letting your imagination run wild is much more satisfying."

"Do tell," she retorted, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as his fingers played over his belt. He was definitely too cocky for his own good, but her body still responded. And who was she to deny it this unexpected pleasure? She might as well enjoy his company for a little while longer. There could be no harm in that, after all. As long as she didn't let it go any further.

"Still not interested?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow as his mouth curled up into a lopsided smirk.

"Okay," she sighed, scooting over to give him room to sit beside her. "You have five minutes to convince me you're worthwhile."

"I love a challenge," he drawled and she couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes, a warm tingle running down her spine as he answered that with a deep chuckle before slipping into the booth beside her.

She didn't think it possible, but he was very entertaining, his made-up stories having her laughing out loud more than once. With each story he told they drifted closer together and Emma tried to convince herself that it was only so that she could hear him clearly; after all the bar was getting crowded and louder and louder with each passing second. It was definitely not because she enjoyed the shivers every brush of his arm or leg against her elicited, not because the closer he got the better she could smell his enticing cologne, and it was definitely not because she started to imagine pulling him out of the back door and having her wicked way with him in the dark alley behind the bar. Not at all.

"Where did you go, love?"

"Nowhere," she shot back, glad that her cheeks didn't flush bright red. "I'm right here."

His eyes flickered for a brief moment to her lips and then back to her eyes again, and she sucked in a sharp breath when she saw his eyes burning with lust, his voice only a harsh rasp when he asked, "Wanna get out of here?"

It was a blatant invitation, an invitation she knew she should refuse. But then he shifted on the bench again, his leg pressing against hers and his fingers brushing up against the bare skin of her forearm as all common sense flew right out the window.

"Yeah," she replied, feeling her nipples tighten as his tongue darted out to swipe over his bottom lip. "Let's get out of here."

They didn't make it far. The moment they stepped out of the back door she found herself slammed against the brick wall of the building and his mouth devouring hers. The only thing she could do was hold on for dear life and give as good as she got. The kiss was hot and heavy, and she wanted to wrap her legs around him, wanted to close her hand around the hard erection that was currently pressing against her stomach. His lips left hers and she might have whimpered at the loss, but he didn't go far, was back a second later, one hand closing around her thigh and yanking her leg up so that he could grind against her where she needed him the most.

She released the lapels of his shirt from her death grip to bury her fingers in his hair as their kiss turned even more passionate. Her head was starting to buzz from the lack of oxygen but she just tightened her grip, afraid he would leave her before she'd taken her fill. He was gyrating his hips against hers and she almost came from that contact alone. God, she needed him to fill her. Now. Here. She didn't care that someone might stumble upon them. She just needed to feel him push inside of her, needed him to fuck her into oblivion.

But they had to come up for air eventually, and when he stepped back and let her leg drop back to the ground again she wanted to scream.

"That was ..." he breathed, his pupils blown wide as he stared at her. Her eyes wandered down to the bulge in his pants, and she was hardly able to defy the urge to drop down on her knees and pull his cock out to wrap her mouth around him and suck him dry. Though his next word definitely doused that urge, as effectively as if he'd poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. "Unexpected."

"Unexpected?" she hissed, her fingers itching with the need to slap her hand across his face. What did he expect? Did he expect that she was a bad kisser or what?

"I like you, Emma Swan." His calm tone soothed her anger just a little bit, and then the bastard lifted his hand and brushed his fingers over her cheek and looked at her with such adoration that every thought of anger vanished out of her brain. "You're a very interesting woman. Which means I should just walk away and never look back."

"Afraid you might fall in love?" She quipped when he stepped back again, already missing the touch of his fingers against her skin while she tried desperately to ignore the rapid beating of her heart and the hot desire that was burning her from the inside out.

"No, afraid I'll hurt you," he replied, his voice so low that she could barely hear him. "I don't know what makes you special, but ..." He closed the gap between them again, his hands cupping her face before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her closed lips. He was gone again before she could kiss him back, his eyes burning with an intensity that knocked the breath out of her. "… you are. It's been a long time that I actually cared about someone else besides me. So I have to go."

Her body screamed for her to stop him, but her mind was clinging to the last shreds of sanity and she let him go, watching him walk down the alley. Then she blinked and he was gone.

Leaning against the stone wall for support, she narrowed her eyes, wondering where he had gone. Her heart was beating hard against her ribcage as she stared into the shadows he'd just disappeared into. Damn, he must be a vampire after all. Only the really old ones couldn't be detected by a witch, and his disappearing act clearly marked him as a supernatural being.

She would ask Graham about the stranger - maybe her roommate knew who he was. But no matter what Graham told her … she definitely needed to stay away from the handsome stranger. Spending only a few hours with him had already caused cracks to run through the walls she'd built around her heart after Neal's betrayal. She'd promised herself that no man would ever get close again. No matter how handsome he was. No matter how much she wanted him. One-night stands were okay. But the moment feelings got involved she got the hell out of Dodge. A good fuck wasn't worth to risk her heart. She might use him for her fantasies to get herself off, but she would never speak to him again. Never.