The Lady is a Vamp (The Paranormal Investigations Series Book 1) by Michelle Kelly Page A

particular perpetrator. He couldn’t read vamps.
    As he reached the door to the office, a small group of people in the nearby corner caught his eye. Two men, dressed in eighteenth century ruffled shirts and frock coats, obviously going for the Lestat look rather than Dracula, stood next to a woman, staring at her with such rapt attention they had barely noticed Nick. She stood with her back to him, dressed in a backless red dress that clung to every petite curve. Nick had to stop himself from admiring her ass, a perfect peach that flared out from her tiny waist. Her hair had the colour and sheen of rubies and hung halfway down her naked back. Her skin was pale, of course, but so much so she was almost translucent. As she shifted her weight Nick found his gaze locked on the sway of her hips, her movements lithe and sinuous. Damn, it had been far too long since he had felt a woman’s body next to his own. Without intending to do so Nick took a step forward, willing her to turn round so he could see the rest of her. Her two male companions had noticed him now and were looking at him with that same mixture of curiosity, suspicion, and fear that he had sensed in the rest of the room. The woman turned her head to look at Nick.
    Their eyes met and Nick felt a crackle of energy through his body that had nothing to do with telepathy. Indeed his mental powers had completely shut down, so strong was his physical reaction to her.
    She was gorgeous, with large dark blue eyes framed by thick lashes, a fine boned, almost haughty face, and a lush mouth that he was pleased to see she had left pink and soft, not coloured in with the red or black lipstick the rest of the room seemed to favour. She looked at Nick as if startled, her eyes widening, those kissable lips parting slightly. He went to speak, feeling as if time had slowed down and the rest of the club had retreated into the background. Then the door in front of him opened and a man Nick assumed must be Lord Azriel stepped out, bowing to Nick with a flourish of his hand. Nick saw the woman’s eyes turn to the manager and flash with contempt before she turned away. Feeling disappointed but dragging his thoughts back to the job in hand – and his eyes away from the delectable ass that was once again facing him – Nick turned his attention to the manager, who ushered him into the office with another flourish of his carefully manicured hand.
    ‘Come in, come in. Would you care for a drink? Red wine perhaps?’ The man beamed at Nick insincerely. His eyes, even behind the piercing violet contact lenses, were cold.
    ‘I don’t drink,’ Nick said coldly. Lord Azriel grimaced in sympathy.
    ‘Ah, I see. So many of us have problems with the demon drink. Perhaps a tomato juice?’
    ‘I don’t drink on duty ,’ Nick snapped. What was it with the stereotype of the alcoholic cop? It wasn’t the first time he had met this assumption. An investigator that was single and didn’t drink? Clearly an alcoholic with a messy divorce behind him and two kids he never saw, wife having moved away with her new teetotal husband. Nick shook his head. He didn’t drink because it messed around with his mental abilities as a telepath. Those abilities had a lot to do with why he was still single.
    But he wasn’t about to share any of this with a self-styled vampire who may be part of a murder investigation. Nick smiled tightly at the man.
    ‘I’m here to investigate the recent murder of a young man who, it appears, was a regular at your club. Simon Canterbury-White.’
    Lord Azriel steepled his hands together, resting his chin on them, his jet black curls tumbling onto his desk. Nick wondered just how seriously the man took his ‘vampire’ status. He certainly looked the part, but his office was clinical and perfunctory, the office of a businessman, not a hint of red or a demonic sigil in sight, only a few flyers on his desk announcing an upcoming ‘BloodBath’ event.
    ‘Yes of course. Simon has