Temptation Calls
She'd once been a victim to the cruelty of men. Now she was a vampire.As lives went, both of hers had sucked. At least when it came to the opposite sex. So New York City vampire Samantha Turner vowed to spend her immortal life protecting the helpless and shielding herself from the violence of men's passions.Then she met NYPD detective Peter Daly. His lust for life, for justice–for her–was a temptation she couldn't deny. It was enough to lure her out of the darkness and into his embrace, for a little while, enough to make her trust him when an old evil reemerged. But would it be enough when she at last revealed her true nature?
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Temptation Calls
Caridad Piñeiro
To my husband, Bob Scordato, who puts up
with my insanity, makes sure we all arenât wearing pink underwear and has always believed in me! Thank you for your never-ending love and support, Bubba.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 1
Spanish Harlem, 2004
As lives went, both of hers had sucked. Still, life went on and on and on, and everyday things had to be dealt with.
Samantha Turner bore the weight of the heavy grocery bags without complaint. They were for her shelter, The Artemis Shelter, a halfway house where women and their children could heal and find a way out of the abusive relationships in their lives. With her help, many families had already broken the cycle of violence that had cursed Samanthaâs long existence. She was finally doing something positive with this life.
A clerk from the local Gristedes supermarket would have delivered the groceries, but after being trapped indoors all day, Samantha wanted to breathe the night air. To savor the activity of the city that never slept. To revel in the cityâs humanity so she could prepare for another day of battling its cruelty.
She rounded the corner onto her street and noticed a few youths from the neighborhood and two younger children lingering on the stoop next to the shelter. It was nearly midnight. Too late for them and their hip-hop music blaring from the boom box on the railing.
Despite the distance and the dark, Samantha identified Juan Williams, his little brother and sister, plus an assortment of kids from Juanâs self-made posse. Mrs. Williams worked the late shift at a nearby hospital and Juan was supposed to take care of things when she was gone.
He did anything but.
Samantha quickened her pace. She could get the younger Williams children inside and in bed where their mother expected them to be. It was the kind of thing they all did in the neighborhood, watching out for each other.
In the years since Samantha had brought the Artemis Shelter to this part of New York, life had gotten better for this block and that sense of community had slowly spread to the adjacent streets. Funny that her little point of light came from something darker than most could begin to imagine.
Samantha was halfway down the street when a car came sharply around the corner. Tires squealed as the car swerved, but the noise was not enough to hide the sound of a weapon being locked and loaded. Voices urged on the shooter as he stuck himself out the open window.
So many in harmâs way. Too many.
Knowing even as she did so that it would raise questions she didnât want to answer, Samantha dropped the bags and accelerated beyond human speed. She grabbed the two youngest children and carried them down the stairs to the shelterâs lower floor. She shoved them into a far corner before returning to street level to help the others.
The loud pop-pop-pop of gunfire erupted in the night. Bullets flew, striking sparks where they hit brick and stone, splattering blood and more where they connected with flesh and bone. The teenagers scurried to get away, their bodies jerking and thrashing as they failed to avoid the line of fire.
As Samantha grabbed one youth, a bullet tore into her upper back and another hit lower, in her side. She kept moving, carrying the teenager to the stairwell while the shooter continued to fire.
Then as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The car peeled away with another angry squeal of its tires and loud rejoicing from its occupants. Anger rose up sharply within her. The animal sheâd been for too long wanted vengeance. But the human side of her knew that instead of going for their throats she should memorize the faces of those responsible and note the carâs license plate number.
Besides, Samantha couldnât chase the car. Others needed her. Even this far down the block, the smell of gunsmoke and blood was strong. Too strong. Samantha battled the urge threatening to overwhelm her.
She took a deep breath. In the distance, a siren was fast approaching. It grated on her sensitive hearing and she reached up to cover her ears.
A familiar hand touched her shoulder.
âThe children canât see you like that,â he said, motioning with his free hand to her face. âAnd youâre hurt.â
âIâll be okay, Ricardo, butâ¦Is there anything you can do for the others?â Samantha gestured to the bodies littering the stoop and sidewalk.
Ricardo slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, revealing his naked chest and a low-slung pair of pajama bottoms. Heâd clearly run out of his small botanica on the corner of her block without bothering to change.
âIâm not sureââ
âSomeone has to see to them and youâre right. I canât go back now,â Samantha said. She couldnât afford to have her secret revealed to anyone else. It was bad enough that Ricardo had discovered the truth about what she was so soon after sheâd moved to the neighborhood. Right now, there were too many things tempting the animal to emergeâher anger, the smell of the blood and the pain from her injuries.
