Miami Heat Read online

  “You’re going to pay for that with your life,” he threatened, and his eyes changed in an instant, going from blue irises with white on either side to amber ones, surrounding elliptical pupils and no white at all. He curved his hands in front of him almost as if he begged like a puppy, but short fingernails grew out to blackened claws.

  Sakura fell back a step. There was no doubt in her mind now that she dealt with a shape-shifter. “What are you?”

  He advanced on her. “I’m the man who will take down Sakura Keith.”

  So he did know who she was. Not that she’d doubted it. The family name, more than the faces, were known all over the world. Shifters and a few select humans who knew how to keep their mouths shut were privy to what her family did. Often Sakura could slip into the shifter’s world under an assumed name and take down the enemy long before he identified her. As a normal precaution, she had checked into the Miami hotel with false identification, and yet, she’d been found out.

  “Since it seems we’re making corny declarations,” she said as she raised the hemline of her dress and pulled out her knife, and then checked that they were alone. “I’m going to gut you and send you back to wherever you came from.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He lunged at her, and she easily parried his swing. One thing she’d been taught from the beginning and that was to avoid being bitten or scratched by a shifter. Some, but not all, could make others like them with one of those methods. Not knowing if this thing had that ability, she took no chances. She would have to make sure he didn’t land any blows.

  They performed a deadly dance, the man leaping at her, and Sakura bobbing out of the way in time. She tried slicing into his belly, but he was fast. Looking into his menacing eyes told her the problem was much more than his speed though. He had something more going for him, and she needed to be extra careful. At times like this, she realized why she needed a protector.

  The man feigned left, and Sakura tried moving with him. The next second he brought a long, thin arm down over her head. As if in slow motion, she saw the claws and knew they’d drag along her face. Her heart thundered, deafening her. She bent backward, balancing momentarily on the balls of her feet. Her thighs burned, and back muscles cramped. She swung up to block the blow. Shirt material ripped, and she hit the ground. Another slice through the air, and she dragged her knife across his arm. The man howled in pain and drew back. He banged against a car, holding his forearm as blood gushed between his fingers. Sakura rolled over and regained her footing. She checked her blouse. The material hung in ribbons, exposing her bra, but her skin remained unscathed. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  The two of them circled each other, Sakura not daring to take her eyes off the man. He bared his teeth, hissing and growling. She assumed he meant the tactic to scare her, and it did a little. Fear always drove her adrenaline higher and made her stronger and faster, so she welcomed it. She spun the knife in her hand and flexed her shoulders. Time to end this before someone catches us.

  Sakura raised her knife, her muscles tight and ready. The man cracked his knuckles with each curl of his fingers. If possible, the claws seemed more menacing, but she forced her attention away from them to watch his eyes. Where they went, that’s where the man would go. She decided if she was to overcome his speed, she’d win this fight, and that meant striking first with intent to kill.

  Swallowing all fear and hesitation, she charged.

  “Sakura, no!”

  The weight hit her hard in the back, sending her flying forward, and because she’d been going that way anyway, she couldn’t stop or control how she smashed into the shifter. The slight barrier pushed against the tip of her knife and then gave, allowing the weapon to sink deep into flesh. Sakura, the man, and the bastard on her back hit one of the parked cars and then dropped to the ground. Thinking of the shifter’s claws, Sakura didn’t have time to lie there, wondering what happened. She thrust out from the sandwich of men, pulling her knife with her and rolled over onto her back. Roger stumbled to his knees and leaned over her. She aimed the now bloodied knife at him.

  “You’d better explain yourself right now,” she panted.

  Roger’s eyes were wide, and he’d gone pale. He held up his hands in surrender then struggled to his feet and backed away. “I…he had claws. He was about to kill you.”

  Sakura glanced at the shifter who lay still on the ground. By sheer luck, her knife entered his heart. She blew out a breath and stood up. “You idiot. Stay behind the computer where you belong. You almost got me killed.”

  “I was just—”

  She glared at him, and he fell silent. “You were trying to be my hero. I have people who are trained to fight alongside me, and they don’t put my life at risk.” His head hung, and she groaned under her breath. “Thanks for trying. I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, right.” He chuckled.

  Sakura pulled her cell phone out and hesitated. She eyed Roger. “You can help me a lot more if you’ve got a contact here, someone I can call for cleanup?”

  A slow smile spread over Roger’s face. “Of course.” He pulled out his cell as well, but Sakura stopped him from making the call. She peered over his shoulder and recorded the number to her own phone.

  “Try to keep anyone from seeing, okay?”

  Roger nodded as she strode some ways from him back to the street. Cars zoomed by. A man sipped from a Styrofoam cup while he drove his scooter. She noticed how he looked at her rather than the parked delivery truck ahead of him and gave him a pointed stare. He turned away and yelped when he almost ran up onto the lowered ramp. She shook her head.

  On the opposite side of the street stood an old Spanish style building, its courtyard a jungle of overgrown bushes and palm trees. She checked the windows above and considered whether anyone might have seen the fight in the parking garage, but doubted it. After confirming no one walked nearby, she dialed the number Roger gave her.

  The contact picked up on the second ring. “Is this Charles Aiza?”

  “Yes,” he said with hesitation in his tone. She guessed he saw the six one nine area code and knew it must be someone from her family.

  “I need a cleanup,” she told him, without identifying herself first. “Can you handle it for me?”

  “O-of course. Yes, I can. Um, Ms. Keith?”

  So he knew who she was, and they were on the same page. Good. “Please refrain from using that name.” Were they all newbies now?

  “I’m sorry. Of course.”

  Not long after, men arrived at their location. They were nondescript, drove a plain white van, and said nothing as they scooped up the dead shifter, searched the area for anything that might have been left behind, and were gone.

  “Wow, first time I’ve seen that,” Roger said behind her.

  Sakura shrugged. “I have, all over the world, and even with varied languages spoken, it’s the same. They come in, do their job, and melt away. I always wonder who they are in their regular life. Do they have kids? Do they go bowling with the boys on Thursday nights?”

  Roger grinned, and his manner was lighthearted, but from his color, and the way he clenched his hands into fists in his pockets, Sakura guessed the murder got to him. A computer nerd would not face this kind of danger, and she knew firsthand how it could get to be too much, even with experience. That’s why she humanized the pickup crew talking about their home life, her way of dealing with what she’d just done.

  Sakura turned to face him and pulled his hand from his pocket. She slipped her fingers through his and pressed close. “Hey.”

  Energy seemed to vibrate from the man, and she was struck again how cute he was for a desk jockey.

  “Let’s forget work for a while and have some fun.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I thought that’s what we were doing all this time.”

  She laughed. “That was daytime fun. Let’s go dancing. I haven’t shaken my thing in a while.”

  “Your thing?”

&n
bsp; “Yes, my thing. Are you up for it, or do I need to find another date?”

  “Oh I’m up, very up.”

  Sakura rolled her eyes, and they took the long walk back to where he had parked the car. She returned to her room long enough to shower and change into something sexy, and then she and Roger hit Miami hard. Collins Avenue provided them with a nightclub that made Sakura feel like they were in Las Vegas rather than Miami. Flashing colored lights, multi-colored couches, and crazy entertainment amid loud, vibrating music. While Sakura danced to the beat, Roger tapped her on the shoulder, and she glanced over to him. He pointed with his chin to the six-foot-four blond man on the upper level, surrounded by a few too attentive men and a couple of half-naked beauties. Sakura’s eyes widened.

  “Is that—?”

  “Yeah,” Roger yelled above the noise. “They get celebrities in here all the time.”

  “Nice.” She grinned and considered going up to meet the delicious specimen of manhood, but thought better of it. He looked like he’d come out to have some fun like the rest of them, and he didn’t need some fan girl hanging onto him. While she raised her glass to sip her drink, the man caught her gaze, and the most perfect lips formed a smile. He raised his own glass in a silent toast, and Sakura’s heartbeat went erratic. Damn, Miami’s all right!

  She and Roger danced most of the night away, but when she’d removed her heels and her feet still hurt, she decided to call it a night. They pushed their way through the thinning but still thick crowd and worked to get to the exit. Just when Sakura reached the door, a man pressed a napkin into her hand. She blinked at him and looked down at it. A number was scrawled in sloppy script in the center along with a name.

  “He says give him a call,” the man said, and Sakura lost her breath. She nodded, and the man faded back into the crowd. Yeah, like she was going to make a big time celebrity her lover. Sure, it would be hot as hell, but it was also the fastest way to get her face in the media, a sure method to kill the false identity deal. The experience might make a good story to share with her sisters though. Then she remembered she’d been cut off from her sisters, maybe forever. She sighed and left the nightclub to return to her hotel.

  “You really know how to have fun,” Roger said outside her room. He stumbled against her, but she brought her hands up to keep him from sending them both to the floor.

  “You’ve had too much to drink, sir.”

  “I’d like to have a different drink.”

  She wrinkled her nose, laughing. “Wow, you get cornier when you’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk.” He proved he was by swaying, and she pushed him against the door to hold him up. He sighed, staring into her eyes. “I’ve never made love to a black woman before.”

  “And you’re under the assumption you will tonight?”

  “I am always hopeful.”

  She let her gaze travel his form, from head to toe. “You’re not too bad to look at,” she teased and ran a finger over his chest to his abs. She wasn’t surprised to find the latter nice and firm.

  “I’ve got a lot more you haven’t seen.”

  “Oh really?” She leaned in even closer, and their mouths needed just a nudge to touch. He played the game with her, not closing the space, allowing them both to be tantalized but not yet giving in. “What are we talking?”

  Roger smirked. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

  “You’re a very dirty man, Roger Port.”

  “Get dirty with me, Sakura Keith.”

  She made a purring sound, considering it. The next instant, she found herself on the other side of the hall, having bumped her head against it, and Adam with his back to her and hand wrapped around Roger’s neck, raising him up off his feet.

  “Quien carajo eres tú?” Adam roared. “You don’t touch her!”

  Sakura blinked. “Adam!”

  Her lover ignored her and threw Roger down on the floor as if he weighed nothing. Roger scrambled backward on his hands and ass, but Adam stalked over to him. Adam hit him, and blood spattered Roger’s shirt and Adam’s, pouring from Roger’s nose. Sakura ran over and grabbed Adam’s arm. He shook her off. Another punch to Roger’s ribs, but Roger managed to somewhat block the hit. If he didn’t, Sakura was pretty sure he would have had broken ribs.

  “Stop,” she shouted. “Adam, leave him alone. You have no right to do this.”

  Roger somehow managed to twist away from Adam’s hold and got to his feet. He took a fighting stance Sakura might be proud of, if his nose weren’t obviously broken. His gaze narrowed, he waited for Adam to try hitting him again, but she darted between the two men, facing Adam.

  “I said stop. You don’t get to decide who I’m with, Adam. I made that clear the day we started seeing each other. I told you an open relationship or nothing. You agreed. So don’t come here acting like you own me.”

  Adam sneered, and she could have sworn something shifted in his eyes. “That gives you the right to be una puta?”

  “You did not call me a whore!” She punched him in the stomach as hard as she could, and she could do damage to most men. Even Adam had pissed her off in the past, and she’d let him have it. He’d winced and said she hit like a man. She had taken it as a compliment and told him not to play with her. Tonight though, maybe it was all the alcohol she had consumed, but punching Adam was almost like punching a brick wall. She cried out in pain and doubled over, holding her hand. All the drink she took in over the last few hours threatened to come shooting out of her mouth.

  “Baby, your hand.” He whisked her into his arms. “You shouldn’t have done that. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not,” she breathed between clenched teeth. She had no strength to push him away when he dug through her purse and found her key card. He used it to open her bedroom door, glared at Roger, and then shut the door in his face.

  Adam rushed her to a chair and knelt in front of her to examine her hand. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go, gingerly checking each finger to be sure she could move them. Sakura winced, but it was clear she hadn’t broken any bones.

  He let her hand go with apparent reluctance and stood.

  “What are you doing here, Adam? You said you weren’t coming.”

  “I finished up a little business and thought I’d join you.” He glared down at her. “You said you were coming to investigate your mom’s death, not pick up new lovers.”

  “I’m grown, and I can do whatever the hell I want to. I certainly don’t need to answer to you.” She stood, hating for the moment how small he made her feel. He towered above her anyway, which pissed her off even more. “You never fought my former lovers. I kept you around because it didn’t bother you if I enjoyed other men. Now you’re acting like this.”

  “You kept me around?” He took a step toward her, and she found herself stumbling back. Adam was always self-possessed and strong, but he displayed a level of aggression she had never seen in him. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, but the way he behaved confused her. Anger sparked in his eyes, making them appear almost black. He reached out and raised her chin, the grip tight, but not painful. “I’m here because you want me. You can’t help yourself.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really.” He dropped a hand to the front of her dress and circled a breast without touching the tip. “When I am not around you are…bellaco. Only I can satisfy you.”

  Sakura recognized the slang word for horny, not a literal translation. She learned a lot from him over the years—too much—and she was still angry with him over his attitude. Never mind that his closeness actually ignited the horniness he accused her of feeling when he was gone. She realized for all the teasing she’d engaged in with Roger, she didn’t feel a fraction with him of what she felt now in Adam’s presence. Looking into her lover’s eyes, she deduced Adam knew it, too.

  “You’re getting a little above yourself, aren’t you?”

  She said the wrong thing. Adam grabbed h
er around the waist and backed her up until she hit the wall. His narrowed gaze raked her from head to toe, and when he curled fingers in the front of her dress, she opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. He ripped the material straight down to her navel. The dress fell from her shoulders to her hips and pooled on the floor.

  “Adam!”

  His eyes widened, as if his actions surprised him. He took a step back and ran fingers through his hair, an expression of confusion on his face. “I don’t…”

  “Adam, what’s going on with you? You’re not like your usual self.” She touched his arm as he turned away, and he flinched.

  “Don’t touch me, Sakura.”

  She gasped, hurt tightening her chest. Maybe she had no right to be hurt, especially since it was obvious he didn’t feel the same as he did in the past, wasn’t as accepting of her lifestyle. “If you don’t want to be here, then get out.”

  “Not wanting you isn’t the problem! Look at you, Sakura.”

  She looked down at herself. Since a bra would have shown above the skimpy dress, she hadn’t worn one, but she found no reason to hide her breasts now that Adam had exposed them. She stood there in bikini panties and nothing else.

  “I want to eat you,” he snapped. “Every bit of you, from your toes to your pussy to your lips.”

  “I’ve never turned you away from my bed, Adam.” She put a hand on her hip, and even though you made me mad, I’m not now. We’ve argued like cats and dogs because makeup sex is hot.”

  “If I take you like this, I don’t know what will happen.”

  She frowned. “Like what? You look good to me.”

  He did, too. His black hair tussled about his head, a new wild, almost dangerous look, in his eyes. Even his muscles seemed more defined, and Adam already had a body every man could envy. He gave off an aura of power she’d never known before from him, and she liked it. The man didn’t understand how he turned her on right then.

  He had been glancing toward the balcony as she examined him, but the minute she thought of how much he excited her, he breathed in deep and turned an intense gaze on her. “Sakura.”