Pursuit of a Kiss Read online

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2012 Lola Drake

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-051-3

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JC Chute

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my grandfather, Morris Madian, who remains forever in my memory. You inspired in me a love of stories, and the first ones I told were during those summer days when I played in the yard with you. From Queen Leora the Bumble Bee to this, my first published novella, I owe it all to you.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First I’d like to thank Seleste DeLaney, an amazing author and true friend. If not for her, this series would not have been created, and this book would never have been published. Her constructive criticism is harsh, which makes it invaluable. Seleste, I’m so grateful to you for everything. You’re a beautiful person.

  Special thanks also goes out to Sandi Gibbons, Director of Communications at the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office, for patiently answering all of my questions about trial procedure, gang-related homicides, and investigations. Furthermore, I’d like to thank Ken McDaniel for teaching me about guns, ballistics, gunshot wounds, and witness protection. Finally, a warm thank you to my uncle, Ethan Feldman, for his helpful advice about court and criminal procedure. Any mistakes in the text are mine alone. These three people generously gave their time to help me get the facts right.

  Last but certainly not least, thank you to my parents, Gloria and David, and my sister Karen for their unwavering support over the years. Without their constant encouragement and belief in me, I would have given up writing a long time ago. I love you all and I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

  PURSUIT OF A KISS

  Cupid’s Conquests

  Lola Drake

  Copyright © 2012

  Prologue

  She didn’t belong. He noticed that the moment she entered the bar, inspiring even more pity, since he knew the disaster she would soon face. She held her shoulders back a tad too rigidly, kept her posture a little too perfect, and her simple black tailored suit and red silk blouse stood out in sharp contrast to the far more casual Venice, California crowd. She must have come directly from work––at least he hoped she had, since other than her attire, she had definite potential. Men gave her a second look as she passed by, staring at her rich brown hair falling in soft wavy curls around her shoulders. They certainly had to notice those big blue eyes projecting such innocence. Not to mention that incredible ass.

  “See something you like?” purred the luscious blonde beside him, pressing her generous breasts against his arm, effectively diverting his attention from the brunette.

  “Erato,” Eros exclaimed, before noticing the fearsome man beside her. “And… Father.”

  Ares inclined his head in regal acknowledgement of his son’s greeting.

  “What brings you two here?”

  Erato drew lustful gazes everywhere she went, particularly leaning against the bar with cleavage spilling out of her tight black top and endless, tanned legs on display beneath her miniscule skirt. But Ares kept all the patrons at a distance with his roiling eyes and tightly clenched jaw. The women all turned to admire him, yet none dared approach.

  Seeing Ares had no intention of answering, Erato flicked her hair back. “I was in the area, attempting to inspire one of the boardwalk poets, but couldn’t get through the haze of pot smoke.”

  Eros chuckled. “I thought that stuff made it easier for you Muses to slip into their thoughts.”

  “In some artists, yes; in others, most decidedly not.” She shrugged, indifferent. “They have to want to receive my inspirational gifts for them to work. Now, Ares here joined up with me on behalf of Zeus.”

  Eros rolled his eyes. “So Zeus had you intercept me at a bar…”

  “You have been here a lot lately. He says you aren’t making enough progress on your mission. You’re here to bring true love back to the humans, not to get yourself laid by simpering mortals.”

  “I haven’t had much luck at that, in this disguise Zeus forced me to assume,” Eros grumbled. The normally alluring god of love now inhabited the body of a short, pudgy, bald man.

  Ares shot his son a stern look. “Your mother misses you. If you ever want to return to Olympus you need Zeus’s approval, and he won’t grant it until you’ve shown that love can still thrive in this world.”

  “Ironic sentiment, coming from you.” There was no love lost between Eros and Ares. Although, to be fair, there was rarely love lost between Ares and anybody. Only their devotion to Aphrodite kept the two gods from shedding each other’s blood.

  A streak of dry lightning cut through the night sky like a hot knife through butter, thunder rolling so closely on its heels it felt as though the bolt could strike the bar where they stood. Conversations stopped as nearly every patron turned in shock to peer out the windows at the cloudless night sky.

  “All right, all right, tell Zeus to calm down. I’ll get back to work.”

  Ares nodded, satisfied, and swept out of the bar without another word.

  “Is he always so chatty?” Erato laughed.

  Eros made a face at her, his good mood destroyed by his father’s visit.

  “Cheer up. I brought a surprise for you.”

  Eros’s brothers, Himeros and Pothos, emerged from the shadows to join them at the bar. They looked enough alike to pass for twins. As the god of lust and sexual longing, and the god of yearning and desire, their looks provoked intense reactions – women began to crowd around the bar, jostling (and in some cases outright shoving) each other to get closer to them. Eros felt a flash of resentment at seeing his alluring brothers, stuck as he was in his corpulent body, but he had missed them.

  At that moment, loud shouting erupted across the bar, distracting them all. The rigid brunette Eros had been studying slapped the man before her as silent tears slid down her face. The man attempted to grab her arm but she jerked free and pushed through the crowded room, frantically trying to get outside.

  There goes another couple. Eros groaned in frustration while Himeros laughed.

  “He might not know my name, but that one has worshipped me in abundance.”

  “Inspiring lust in anyone is easy,” Eros complained. “And look where lust just got that guy. He lost a great girlfriend over it.”

  Pothos shook his head. “No, I’m quite familiar with that woman. She’s yearned for something more for years. She’s just been too scared to admit it to herself. And you may need Himeros’s help with her – she never lets herself get carried away by passion, unfortunately.”

  Eros studied the woman thoughtfully as she ran out of the bar. A woman nervous about passion? Longing for true love? This sounded like a mission he would thoroughly enjoy.

  His eyes gleaming with anticipation, Eros barely noticed when Erato kissed his cheek.

  “I’ll leave you to it, Eros. It looks like you have your work cut out for you.”

  Chapter One

  Shot Through the Heart

  Juliet breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the bar. After the dressing down her boss had given her and the bumper car rally otherwise known as the Los Angeles freeway during rush hour, she craved a drink and some time to relax with her friends. Feeling a prickl
ing sensation at the back of her neck, she turned to find a bald man’s eyes boring into her as though he knew every thought in her head. For a moment, Juliet froze at the intense sensation. Then the man smiled, his pudgy face transforming into cherubic innocence. She must be more stressed than she thought, imagining anything sinister in an expression that kind.

  Shaking it off, Juliet spotted her friends at a table not far from the door and hurried towards them.

  “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t notice your text changing the party to this place until I was halfway downtown.”

  Carly waved it off, too drunk to care. A white veil attached to a tacky tiara rested on her curly red hair, and she slurped her drink through a penis-shaped straw. “As long as you’re not late for the wedding.” She hugged her friend affectionately.

  Debra pouted, searching for a cocktail waitress. “I still say we should’ve gone to Vegas.”

  “Come on, you love James Beach bar.”

  “For Friday happy hour, sure. Not for a freakin’ bachelorette party!”

  “Freaking?” Carly asked, her big brown eyes lighting up in amusement.

  “I’ve been trying to stop swearing so much since I had the baby,” Deb grumbled. “I don’t want her to learn to talk and have her first words be, ‘Oh, shit.’”

  Juliet laughed, taking a few sips of Carly’s drink as she felt the tension start to evaporate from her shoulders. She and Carly had been friends since kindergarten, but their lives rarely intersected anymore. While Juliet focused on becoming one of the most in-demand interior designers in Los Angeles, Carly enjoyed a more bohemian lifestyle with her artist fiancé Zach and their two children. They’d been together forever, but had only recently decided to officially get married.

  “So, when are we going to see a ring on your finger, Juliet?”

  “Here we go.” Ashley, perpetually single and proud of it, rolled her eyes.

  Carly continued undeterred. “You need to live up to your namesake. Get some romance in your life.”

  Juliet blushed slightly as she searched for an answer. Even though she and Brad had been together for nearly five years, he never seemed inclined to discuss marriage. Still, the relationship suited her. So what if she didn’t have the same romance or passion that Carly and Zach shared? Brad was stable and responsible and just as driven in his career as she was. If that meant they couldn’t spend as much time together as she would have liked, well, she understood the long hours he had to put in at his firm.

  As though Carly’s question had conjured him, a man who looked almost exactly like Brad appeared in Juliet’s peripheral vision. She turned, trying to catch a better glimpse of this doppelganger, but the crowd blocked her view.

  “Juliet, what is it?”

  The crowd continued to shift as people moved to and from the bar, and suddenly Brad’s face became clearer. Juliet thought she even heard his laugh, but that couldn’t be possible with him standing all the way across the room. Not to mention, he’d told her he would be in San Francisco all weekend for work.

  At first she thought Carly might have arranged for this encounter as some kind of romantic surprise, since it seemed far too coincidental they’d end up at the same bar purely by chance. But then she saw a giggling college girl pressed snugly against him. His hands slid down her body, skimming the sides of her chest before coming to rest on her perfectly pert ass. He gave it a flirtatious squeeze. Slowly their lips came together, the heat between them palpable. Juliet couldn’t remember the last time Brad had kissed her like that.

  Without any conscious thought, she rose to her feet and moved towards them. She could feel Carly standing behind her, lending support, as Brad broke the kiss and his eyes fell upon her.

  “Juliet! What are you doing here? You… I thought you were going downtown tonight.”

  Juliet found herself laughing even as tears ran silently down her face. “Really? That’s all you’ve got to say?” She swiped at her cheeks, hating herself for crying over this when at the same time she wished she could beat the crap out of him.

  “It’s not what it looks like.”

  Carly snorted, “You’re going from bad to worse with that cliché, asshole.”

  “Butt out, Carly.” He turned back to Juliet, stepping towards her. “You know I love you, Juliet. You’ve just been so busy with work I never see you anymore.”

  “I’ve been… You’re saying this is my fault?” She could feel her breath coming too fast and fought to calm herself. She would not lose control in front of him, especially not with that slut still lingering by his side. “Is there a book of standard excuses for cheaters out there that I haven’t seen yet?” She exhaled, relieved she had managed to keep her voice steady and strong.

  “Come on, don’t be like this.”

  “How long, Brad?”

  “How long what?”

  “How long have you been cheating on me?”

  “Look, sweetheart, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just sex. What you and I have, that’s special. We make love.”

  Her hand struck his face before she became fully aware of her intent to slap him. “You asshole… you’re using excuses from Eddie Murphy’s Raw? Seriously? How stupid do you think I am?”

  Juliet felt as though a hand had grabbed her heart and begun to squeeze. In spite of her determination to hold herself together, her breathing grew more ragged and her knees shook. She hated him in that moment, and could feel the contempt swelling inside her, searching for release. Not knowing if that would lead to her crying even harder or simply exploding at Brad, she turned and raced out of the bar.

  Kicking off her favorite heels, she scooped them up and began running down Venice Boulevard

  , on the verge of hysterical laughter. Who would have ever pictured her – oh-so-practical Juliet, sprinting down the street barefoot? Laughter dissolved into sobs as she crossed the boardwalk onto the sand, running until her legs began to cramp. Falling to her knees, Juliet tried to breathe, letting the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore soothe her. Her cell phone kept ringing. She shut it off in irritation. She knew Carly would be worried, and Brad was probably calling frantically, but at the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Juliet had no idea how long she sat there, but eventually the cold stirred her to move. She pulled herself up, absently wiping some of the sand off her skirt. Brad often accused her of being too fastidious. Wouldn’t this surprise him? Consumed with her thoughts, she stumbled back up the beach toward the boardwalk. She’d gone farther away from the bar than she’d intended, toward the southern “muscle beach” end of the Venice boardwalk.

  While the area typically swarmed with tourists and locals alike during the day, at night darkness consumed this desolate end of the boardwalk, giving it a quietly sinister air. Strange shadows fell from the outdoor gym equipment, crisscrossed by the lines in the fence surrounding it. Steel shutters covered the entrances to most of the stores, many marked by graffiti. Gentle singing drew her gaze to a homeless man huddled over a garbage can searching for scraps. He had a pretty good voice, but the soft sound amid the surrounding emptiness only served to enhance the disturbing sensation that washed over her.

  As her fight with Brad replayed in her mind, Juliet walked practically alongside a small group of men before she consciously noticed them. With her footsteps muffled by the soft sand, they hadn’t spotted her, either.

  The gunshot changed all that.

  Her head whipped towards the sound. What she had assumed were a group of men talking coalesced into four Latinos holding guns on two African-American boys quivering before them. A third lay dead on the sand, blood pooling under his head in a puddle that appeared almost black. The hole in his forehead looked like movie makeup. It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real.

  One of the remaining boys, who looked young enough to still be in high school, sobbed openly as he pleaded for his life. His companion remained stoic, staring down the leader of the Latino group and, in a f
inal moment of defiance, spitting at him. The leader fired, shooting him and his friend again and again. The shots echoed across the buildings, but no one emerged to investigate. A faint trail of smoke drifted up from the barrel as he at last lowered his gun to his side.

  That final movement shook Juliet out of her frozen stupor and she let out an involuntary scream. Jerking his head around at the distinct noise, the leader’s gaze fell upon her, his eyes narrowing. Juliet couldn’t understand what they shouted at her in Spanish, but instinct kicked in and her legs started moving faster than they ever had before. Gunshots rang out behind her and she felt a bullet whiz by her ear. Pain exploded through her right arm and fire blazed across her hip. Still, she kept running, stumbling on the sand, her lungs burning, knowing she would die if she stopped. At last her feet touched the cool cement of the boardwalk, allowing her to pick up speed as she sprinted back toward Venice Boulevard

  and the safety of a crowd.

  The gang continued to gain on her. Her vision started to blur and her legs felt like rubber, her steps beginning to falter as she grew weaker. Blood dripped down her arm, soaking through her blouse. At last, with her pursuers practically on her heels, she turned onto Venice Boulevard

  and slammed straight into that pudgy bald man she’d seen at the bar.

  “Help me,” she begged, collapsing against him. Nearby someone screamed. A crowd began to gather as darkness enfolded Juliet and she slipped into unconsciousness.

  ****

  Bright lights blinded her as her eyes fluttered open. Strange shapes and noises slowly came into focus: the glaring fluorescent lights overhead, the beeping of hospital equipment, voices talking somewhere beyond her vision. Juliet suddenly remembered the men chasing her and started to lurch to her feet.

  “Easy, there. Easy. You’re safe.”

  Blinking a few times, Juliet became aware of that pudgy bald man again. “It’s you.”

  “Yes, it’s me. Dr. Chris Erosou, at your service.”