Born to Love (The Vampire Reborn Series) (Entangled Ignite)

  Born to Love

  Caridad Piñeiro

  Also by Caridad Piñeiro from Entangled

  The Prince’s Gamble

  To Catch a Princess

  For Love or Vengeance

  To Love and Serve

  Born To Love

  To Die for Love

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Caridad Piñeiro Scordato. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Edited by Nina Bruhns

  Cover design by Fiona Jayde

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-370-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2013

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Smith & Wesson, Formica, Scooby-Doo, Chanel No. 19, Sig Sauer, Glock

  To my husband for his never-ending support of this very crazy and very trying career. Thank you for helping me achieve my dream.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  About the Author

  Dear Friends,

  It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost ten years since the release of the first book in THE CALLING/REBORN Vampire Novel series, DARKNESS CALLS. Ten years since Diana and Ryder first set eyes on each other and love grew between them.

  It hasn’t been an easy road for them, but from that first moment to the last pages in TO LOVE AND SERVE, I know you’ve been waiting for them to finally commit to each other.

  I couldn’t let you down by not letting you share in that very special moment when Diana and Ryder say “I do” and prepare to spend the rest of their lives together.

  So, you’re invited to the wedding of Diana Reyes and Ryder Latimer! Get those tissues ready for this moment that’s been so long in coming.

  Click here to witness the very blessed union of one kick-butt FBI agent and the man of her dreams!

  Chapter One

  MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

  They said that marriage changed people, but FBI Special Agent Diana Reyes hadn’t expected it would happen with her and her new vampire husband, Ryder Latimer. They had known each other for too long. Lived with each other for years. So how could marriage possibly make a difference in their relationship?

  But somehow, things had changed in the month since their wedding. Especially since immediately after their engagement, Diana had discovered she was pregnant. A normally happy event if you were human, but since her contamination with Ryder’s vampire cells, she wasn’t sure she was human anymore. Which maybe explained how she and a vampire had somehow managed to create life, a rare occurrence in the vampire world. Both the pregnancy and the wedding had changed so much in her life. Their lives. For the better in most ways.

  But then there was this.

  Definitely not better.

  “I’ll try not to be home too late,” Diana said, wanting to appease her husband. Ryder worried about her working so much. Hell, he worried about her, period. She cradled the phone to her ear as she organized the case file papers on the conference room table. “But we’ve been working short-staffed. Several agents are out with the flu.”

  “I appreciate that you’re needed, but you’ve got to take care of yourself,” he replied, and although he hadn’t said it, she heard the unspoken words in his request.

  You’ve got to take care of the baby.

  “I’ll be home soon,” she said, and in order to avoid further argument, she hung up without waiting for his answer and returned her attention to the crime scene photos and notes spread out in front of her.

  “Working late?”

  She glanced in the direction of the door where ADIC—Assistant Director in Charge—Jesus Hernandez leaned against the jamb.

  “I could say the same about you,” she said with a smile for her boss.

  Jesus shrugged and walked in, tugging loose his tie. “Actually, I was heading home. I’ve been on duty nearly seventy-two straight.”

  Diana leaned back against the edge of the table and eyeballed her friend. The shadows of fatigue were so prominent beneath his eyes they looked like bruises. “You do look beat.”

  “What about you? How are you feeling?” His gaze lowered to the swell of her belly.

  She shifted her hand down to caress it. Beneath her palm came the flutter of movement, bringing a smile to her face despite her exhaustion. “I’m holding on. The nausea isn’t as bad as it was.”

  He regarded her, skimming his gaze across her face, and nodded slowly. “You look tired, but happy. Pregnancy becomes you.”

  She couldn’t argue with him. With a casual nod, she said, “I guess.”

  In truth, after the first two months of horrible weakness and nausea, the queasiness and her health in general had finally stabilized. The contamination of vampire cells from Ryder’s blood had been wreaking havoc with her body for the past three years, but her last set of blood tests two weeks ago had shown that progression had abated somewhat.

  It gave her hope that she would live long enough to give birth to the baby.

  Maybe even live long enough to see her grow.

  “Don’t stay too long, Di. They’ll keep,” Jesus said, jerking a finger in the direction of the photos. “I can’t afford to lose another agent to illness.”

  She offered him a weak smile. “I may just take these home to review. The break from the office would probably give me a fresh eye on them.”

  “Do that, and get some rest.” He walked away as she gathered the papers, but as he reached the door, his cell phone chirped loudly. He jerked it out, checked the caller ID, and cursed beneath this breath. “Daly,” he said when Diana sent him a questioning look.

  He answered and listened, his weary gaze occasionally meeting hers across the room. “I understand, Detective,” he finally said, the lopsided conversation seeming to draw to a close. “I’ll be there shortly. I’ll buzz Dr. Gonzalez and have her meet us at the scene.”

  Hearing h
er best friend’s name, Diana perked to attention. Normally, Maggie—Dr. Gonzalez—didn’t go out in the field. Maggie worked in the forensics lab. What kind of case would need her expertise on-site?

  Jesus ended the call and shrugged on his coat, his movements marked with exhaustion.

  “You need rest, boss. Why not send me instead?” Diana hadn’t been out of the office on a case in over two years. The disciplinary suspension she’d been under due to a botched raid she’d been in charge of had officially ended a couple of weeks earlier. Thank God. Finally.

  Pausing, he arched a dark brow. “Are you up to it?”

  She regarded him. “Depends on what ‘it’ is.”

  Tilting his head, he said, “We’ve got parts in Central Park.”

  “Parts?” she asked, narrowing her gaze. She had a feeling he didn’t mean car parts. “As in, body?”

  “Seems an unsub had a field day with his victim. Daly caught this bag of shit and he thinks it’s similar to another case he had last month.”

  “A serial killer?”

  “That has yet to be determined.”

  “Daly’s got a pretty good nose for these things. No reason why Maggie and I can’t check it out. We work well together,” Diana said, eager to be out on a real case, even if she was dog tired…and even if Ryder would definitely read her the riot act when she got home.

  Jesus hesitated, and once again intently checked her up and down.

  “I’m ready,” she assured him. Or maybe he was wondering if he was prepared to deal with having her on active duty again. “I promise to behave,” she added wryly.

  After a moment he nodded and said, “Call me as soon as you and Maggie are done.”

  With that he exited and Diana went to work, quickly collecting the notes and photos to review in the morning. She slipped on her lightweight winter coat and tucked her credentials wallet into her pocket. Then she removed her Glock from its holster and checked the magazine, making sure it was fully loaded and ready to go.

  Even though the crime scene had been secured by NYPD, she never took chances. Especially now that she had to think about the baby, as well.

  Nestling the gun back in its holster, she headed out, excited to get back to doing what she did best.

  …

  A uniformed officer directed Diana to the crime scene area where her old friend, NYPD Detective Peter Daly, was standing beside Maggie.

  Behind them was a rather large area marked off by bright yellow crime scene tape. A man with a windbreaker that identified him as being from the NYPD’s CSU staff walked out from the area toward Peter and Maggie. Everything about the older man’s demeanor was fearful, from his agitated hand movements to the grim slash of his lips.

  Diana approached and flashed her badge, which earned a broad grin from the tall, blond detective, and a smile from her best friend, but a scowl from the squat, older CSU tech. His shape reminded her of a fireplug, all one width from his ankles to the square-top head sitting directly on his shoulders.

  Peter held out his hand to Diana. “Glad to see you again, Reyes. I was just filling in Maggie on what we have here.”

  She shook his hand, then introduced herself and Maggie to the other man, who was only an inch or so above her five foot two height, and well over fifty.

  “CSU Evans,” he replied, and eyeballed them, wrinkling his nose in disapproval. Beneath his windbreaker, he wore a wrinkled and yellowed white shirt that barely contained his expanding girth, and charcoal-gray slacks, shiny with age. A metal belt buckle and a bit of black leather belt, but not much, were visible below his shirt. Most of it was obscured by his large beer belly.

  Daly motioned to the three of them. “I’ve got the 911 callers to interview, so why don’t you get started.”

  He walked away, leaving her, Maggie, and the CSU tech standing there, staring at each other uneasily.

  She asked, “Where would you like to start, Detective Evans?” No sense pissing off the locals.

  The CSU agent inclined his head in the direction of the taped-off area, and waved a hand for them to follow him.

  “How far is it to the main crime scene?” Maggie asked as Diana grabbed the tape and held it high so they could all ease under it.

  “The DB is about twenty yards into a wooded area and up a fairly steep incline.” He shot a quick, judgmental look at their shoes.

  Diana always wore sensible, low-heeled leather boots to crime scenes, and Maggie had luckily forsaken her signature Jimmy Choos for a practical pair of hiking boots.

  As they walked, Maggie asked, “Did the first officer on the scene secure—”

  “He did the best he could, Dr. Gonzalez,” Evans snapped, and trudged ahead into a thicket of small saplings and underbrush. His heavily soled shoes made muffled thuds against the trampled foliage.

  She and Maggie followed, trying to keep to the same path that had been matted down by the passage of several sets of feet. She cringed, hoping the actual crime scene hadn’t been compromised as badly.

  “What do you mean by ‘did the best he could’?” Diana pressed.

  She avoided one swinging branch as Evans carelessly released it and the thin branch snapped back in the direction of her face.

  “You’ll…see…soon…enough,” he huffed out.

  Diana shared a concerned glance with Maggie. She hoped the man didn’t drop dead from a heart attack as he wheezed and grunted his way up the rising incline.

  She nearly bowled him over when he stopped dead in his tracks. Maggie bumped into her from behind. He raised his hand, urging quiet. All around came the whisper of the trees and underbrush as a breeze with the first chill bite of winter swept through. In the distance, the louder noises of the city and the officers surrounding the scene intruded, but nothing struck Diana as being out of the ordinary.

  “Did you hear something?” she finally questioned, straining to identify what could have made the CSU tech stop.

  Evans eased out a breath. “Thought I heard a rustle. Maybe it’s just a case of the willies.”

  “The willies?” Maggie asked.

  He didn’t say anything else, just plodded forward, his pace decreasing with each step. His wheezing grew louder the closer they got to the scene of the crime.

  By her estimate, they had a bit more than five yards to go when he turned to face them and planted his hands on his hips. He sucked in a few deep breaths and said, “It’s just a little farther up that embankment. Think you should see it by yourselves the first time.”

  The moon was full. Bright enough that she could see the fear in his eyes and the pale sickly color of his face. What had disturbed CSU Evans enough that he didn’t want to return to the scene right away?

  She met Maggie’s gaze, and it was evident she had recognized the man’s dread, as well. With a nod from her friend, Diana eased past him. Together they carefully followed the swath cut in the underbrush by whoever had come before them. Too many people at the scene, Diana thought again.

  As they climbed up the steeper portion of the path, it changed from grass and small brush to hard-packed soil, weeds, and the dark gray schist rock so prevalent in Central Park. A coppery odor greeted them a few feet in—blood. Fresh, from the smell of it. And abundant, for the odor to be so strong at this distance.

  A shiver racked along Diana’s spine—the willies, as the older cop had aptly stated. Her gut screamed something was major league wrong. It made her reach beneath her jacket and feel for the grip of her gun for reassurance.

  They pushed forward, her attention half on the path and half on the area around them. She searched for anything unusual in the crystalline moonlight, but nothing caught her eye. A few paces ahead, several dark-colored prints marred the soil and stone—bloody shoe prints. Large sizes. Judging from the tread patterns, police regulation footwear, for the most part.

  A line of something dark glistened in the light of the moon, and she bent to examine it. Maggie crouched down beside her.

  Blood had pooled in
a crevice between two stones. A rivulet of crimson from the bank above fed the growing puddle.

  Another shiver shouted at Diana in warning, but the word “squeamish” did not exist in her vocabulary.

  “This is not looking good, Maggie,” she said, and rose. She glanced up toward the embankment just yards above them.

  Maggie stood and nodded. “The scene’s been badly compromised. And with this much blood…”

  Maggie didn’t need to finish. They were clearly going to encounter a brutal murder.

  They pushed ahead another few steps, but stopped short. Even at this distance, the smell of blood nearly overwhelmed, along with another odor—viscera. Redolent of a slaughterhouse.

  Swallowing down the gorge rising in her throat, Diana strode over the crest of the ridge to where the body of the victim lay sprawled on a patch of hard-packed soil and grass. The young woman’s legs and arms were at disjointed angles—literally. Her appendages looked as if they had been pulled from their sockets. In spots the flesh had been stripped down to the bone, which shined a sickly pink-white in the moonlight.

  A cold sweat broke out over Diana’s body and trickled down the back of her neck. She swiped at it, and sucked in a breath, fighting back nausea.

  “Are you okay?” Maggie asked with concern.

  Diana hadn’t ever booted at a crime scene in all her time as a rookie. But with the pregnancy, queasiness had made her lose control two months ago. The worst part was that it had happened in front of Daly and a bunch of NYPD uniforms. She wasn’t about to let that happen again.

  She took another deep breath and held it. Willed her stomach to settle. Once it did, she muttered, “Maybe I should just stay away for a moment. I don’t want to compromise the scene any more than it already has been.”

  …

  Maggie nodded sympathetically. “No problem.” Besides, it was time to take control of the crime scene and try to get some samples before the body was moved to the morgue.

  She inched closer, tightly gripping her investigator’s kit while Diana stepped back a few feet, taking deep breaths.

  The female victim’s body was as badly mangled as the first glimpse Maggie had gotten of her legs and arms. Testing for sexual assault might be difficult, given that large parts of her had been…