Give Up the Ghost

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Give Up the Ghost Page 16

by Jenn Burke


  “I’m good, thank you.” I lifted my barely touched wineglass as proof.

  “Well, then.” Ren settled into one of the chairs across from our seats on the couch. “It’s been years, hasn’t it?”

  “About twenty-one.” Hudson leaned back, one leg crossed over the other and his beer bottle resting on his knee. His other arm stretched across the back of the couch, almost touching me.

  “That long.” Ren whistled. “I’m glad you finally decided to venture into my bar tonight. And with such delightful company. I’m afraid I didn’t get your name.”

  I sipped my wine. “That’s right, you didn’t.”

  “You knew?” Hudson said. “That I’d found you?”

  Ren laughed. “That you were sitting in your car in the parking lot, trying to find your balls? Yes, I knew. Of course I knew. Did you think those leads magically panned out, Detective? Oh—wait, you’re not a detective anymore, are you?”

  “Still a detective,” Hudson growled. “Just not a cop.”

  “But does that really count?”

  “Hey. Asshole.” I glared at him. “Did you invite us up here to insult him, or did you have a point?”

  Ren actually steepled his hands, as though he were some evil mastermind in a bad movie. “I wanted to make a...shall we say, business connection.”

  Hudson put his beer down on the coffee table. “No.”

  “You’re not even going to hear me out?”

  Before I could react, Hudson was leaning over Ren, one hand cupping the other vampire’s throat. I rose too and hovered close by—not that I had any illusions I could stop Hudson if he chose to act more, uh, thoroughly. His fangs were down and his eyes were glowing, sure signs he’d reached the end of his rope. “Hear you out?” he rasped. “You’re lucky I don’t break your fucking neck.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” Despite the bravado of his words, Ren’s voice sounded breathless.

  “You made me into this—”

  “I didn’t. Pike did.”

  “You were his lieutenant!”

  “And do you think I had any sway over him whatsoever?” Ren’s gaze bored into Hudson’s. “I was with him for ninety goddamned years. I hated that bastard with everything in me and when I heard you’d killed him and all of his lackeys? I fucking wept with happiness. I was free.”

  The words startled Hudson into loosening his grip, and Ren shoved him back.

  “Don’t you dare lump me in with Pike. I didn’t have a choice—he made me into what he wanted me to be.”

  Hudson shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then believe this—any other loyal lieutenant would have had your head for what you did. But did I ever come after you?”

  “You obviously kept tabs on me.”

  “Because you were searching for me. It would have been stupid not to.”

  Hudson raked his fingers into his hair. “No. You were right there, all the time. If you’d wanted, you could have broken free—”

  Ren sat up and rubbed his neck. “It never even occurred to me to try. There was nothing in my life beyond that band. Pike had seen to that. You? You had your career to return to.”

  “Did everyone know I was a cop?”

  “Does it matter?” Hudson stared at him silently and Ren sighed. “No. I found that out later, after Pike and the rest were dead.”

  “And you didn’t want revenge?” I asked quietly.

  “For what? He freed me. I should have been sending him thank-you baskets every year.”

  “Probably tough to find Thanks for killing our sire themed ones.”

  A laugh snorted past Ren’s lips, and he covered his mouth. He turned his attention to Hudson. “Truce? Truly, I’m not interested in being your enemy.”

  I moved to Hudson’s side and slid my hand into his. Then I pushed myself up onto my toes and whispered in his ear, “Let it go.”

  He closed his eyes and turned so his nose brushed the side of my face. “I’m not sure I know how.”

  I kissed his cheek. “I do.” Turning back to Ren, I said, “I don’t think we’re ready for a ‘business connection’ yet.”

  Ren looked at me, then at Hudson, and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Give me your number, though, and maybe—maybe—I’ll be in touch.” Because I believed Ren. It was entirely possible he was that good of an actor to so vehemently argue his innocence, but somehow I didn’t think so. I thought he was exactly what he proclaimed to be—another victim of Pike’s who’d done everything he could just to stay alive. It wouldn’t hurt to have him as an ally.

  Ren dug a business card out of his desk, scribbled something on the back, and handed it over. His fingers touched mine as I took the card, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head and wiggled his fingers, as though I’d shocked him. “I can see why he’s so drawn to you. Beyond the yummy-smelling blood. I thought I’d sensed it before, downstairs, but with all the people around...”

  “What?” Hudson growled.

  “Nothing,” Ren said, smiling. “I’m happy for you, is all. It’s not every day you get to meet a god, let alone bang one.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “God?” I sputtered. “I’m not—”

  Hudson moved toward Ren, his whole demeanor threatening, and Ren raised his hands in surrender. “What’d I say?”

  “He’s not—”

  “I’m not—”

  Hudson and I looked at each other, and Ren let out a breathy chuckle. “Okay. My bad.” He shrugged, but the denial was insincere.

  I didn’t want to believe him. I’d read about gods in Lexi’s book of all things paranormal—the text had been so earnest, full of wonder, but I’d read between the lines. Gods were nothing more than a myth, a lie perpetuated by people who didn’t know how to explain the turning of the seasons or eclipses, or...or other shit. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t all powerful, no matter how jacked up my magic was.

  Right?

  Except... I’d done shit no one should be able to do, like teleport Hudson and Evan out of an exploding house. Or mess with Omar’s memories.

  The Crown of Osiris had been rumored to bestow immortality or godhood on its focus. That was why the demon had wanted to use it—it wanted its human body to become immortal. But when Evan had killed the demon, the spell or magic or whatever had rebounded on me, and I was already immortal, so...

  No. Just...no. It was bullshit. It had to be.

  “Let’s go,” I said quietly.

  Ren didn’t say anything as we left his office, which I was thankful for. My brain was already spinning. All I wanted was to retreat and try to put my thoughts in order. Because he had to be wrong...even though his words were resonating uncomfortably like a truth I didn’t want to admit.

  I was so caught up in my head, I didn’t realize Hudson had stopped until I bumped into his back. I grunted and looked around him to see five vampires blocking our path. They were each dressed like good ol’ boys in jeans and flannel and wearing matching scowls.

  “I heard what Ren called you—Havoc, right?” I had to listen close to make out his words above the music, but none of the other vampires, including Hudson, seemed to have any problems hearing him. “I know that name.”

  Hudson crossed his arms. “Do you?”

  “Thought you knew better than to show your face in a vampire bar.”

  “I had business with Ren.”

  “The sort of business you had with Pike? Because that shit won’t fly here.”

  I rounded Hudson’s broad form and pushed myself between him and his new friend. “I always wondered about that phrasing. Because, you know, shit doesn’t actually fly. Unless you’re flinging it. Are you going to fling shit?” I asked over my shoulder.


  “Not my plan,” Hudson rumbled. There was reluctant amusement in his voice. Score one for me.

  I turned back to the other vampire, smiling widely. “See? No flying shit.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Oh, sorry. Rude of me. I’m Wesley Cooper.” I squinted at him. “Do you want to get a piece of paper to write that down, or do you think you can remember it?”

  “Wes, maybe I should—” No more reluctant amusement in Hudson’s voice, only concern.

  I held up a hand. Patience. I knew what I was doing.

  Sort of.

  I mean, I didn’t have a plan, but I did best without one.

  “And you are?” I prompted.

  “Going to fucking tear you apart.”

  “Wow. I bet it’s hard to get reservations with that name.”

  I wasn’t shocked when the vamp leaped at me. But he was pretty stunned when I stopped him in midair.

  So was I, honestly. There hadn’t been any effort involved, simply a thought, and it was done.

  Fuck. Maybe Ren was right.

  No. My magic was jacked up, that was all.

  God, I was going to give myself a headache with the back-and-forth.

  “Here’s how this is going to go,” I said, glad my voice betrayed none of the confusion swirling inside my head. “We’re going to get our coats and leave. You can go confirm with Ren that we weren’t here to do anything...untoward.” Hudson snorted at my choice of words, and yeah, okay, I couldn’t blame him. My age was showing, but I couldn’t think of a more modern, less formal term. “And the next time we come in—because we probably will—you mind your business and don’t get held up on invisible puppet strings. Deal?”

  “What the fuck are you?”

  “Something no one’s seen in a long time,” Ren announced from behind us. “Thank you for preventing a fight, Wesley. I rather like the interior of my bar the way it is.”

  I released the vampire and he collapsed to the floor. The rest of the bar resumed its activity—I hadn’t realized everything had sort of stopped so the bar’s clientele could watch our confrontation play out.

  And then I groaned. “Please tell me you had this place protected.”

  Ren arched a brow. “Protected how?”

  “Magic. You know.” I waved a hand.

  “As much as witches say they don’t like vampires, their minds change quickly when you show them enough cash.”

  I didn’t let my sigh of relief become audible. “Okay, good.” No imps—or otherwise—were going to show up to make Ren’s life complicated. I wasn’t sure if Ren would be an ally or what, but it wouldn’t hurt not to piss him off right at the beginning of this friendship. Relationship. Whatever.

  The vampire pushed himself to his feet and brushed off his jeans. Behind me, Hudson grew tense. “We done here?”

  The vampire looked at us, then cast a glance at Ren. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Thank you, Gunn.” Ren’s voice was softer than it had been. Sincere in his gratitude.

  Gunn nodded and he and his friends walked away. A couple of his companions turned to watch us, but their expressions were more curious and cautious than hostile.

  “I hope you’ll return soon,” Ren said with a grin. “We haven’t seen this much excitement in ages.” He peeled off to follow Gunn and his friends, probably to talk more. Or offer drinks. Or...you know, I had no idea.

  It was kind of hard to think with Hudson’s erection pressed into my ass.

  “That was hot,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Really?” I turned my head and barely missed cracking his nose. “You think?”

  He rubbed against me, not so subtly. “Uh-huh.”

  And that suddenly, it was like a switch flipped in me and I needed. Maybe it was something to do with using magic...but I thought it was more likely that Hudson’s arousal simply turned me on. Knowing that he wanted me—that he wanted me so much the pupils of his eyes were already blown wide and surrounded by a thin glowing yellow line—made my stomach quiver and my knees go weak.

  Which made the whole retrieving our coats and getting to the rental SUV a much more difficult task than it should have been. It was almost like Hudson’s lust was inflaming my own in a weird sort of feedback loop. Not that I was complaining, because damn, I was on fire. Even the chill January wind couldn’t dampen my excitement.

  Hudson fumbled with the key fob as we approached the SUV, and the lights blinked to let us know the doors were unlocked. “Back seat,” I murmured.

  “What? Wes—”

  “You’re not a cop anymore,” I pointed out. “And like anyone coming out of the bar is going to care.” I reached under his jacket, seeking proof he was feeling what I was feeling, and I found it. His dick was like a piece of steel rebar in his jeans. “I want this in my mouth. Now.”

  “Fuck. Okay.”

  We scrambled into the back seat and I closed the door behind us as Hudson arranged himself on his back. His eyes glowed and his fangs were coming down as I watched, and that made me shiver. It felt like it had been ages since Hudson had bitten me, and I wanted that.

  Not more than I wanted his dick in my mouth, though.

  We worked at getting his coat off—or at least getting it open, along with his shirt, so I could run my hands over the wiry brown and silver hair that glinted on his chest. His abdominal muscles clenched and rippled as my fingers trailed down his ribs and over to his belly button, and down to the button of his jeans. He thrust upward and I had to swallow over a rush of anticipation that flooded my mouth with saliva.

  “Don’t tease,” Hudson pleaded. “Suck it.”

  I grinned. “I don’t know. I kind of like you begging for it.”

  “Wes, you bastard. Put it in your mouth. Now.”

  “Is that any way to ask?” I nudged his fly open and slid a finger down the rigid length still captured inside his underwear.

  “Goddamn it!” Hudson’s hips chased my touch, but I took it away. He let out a frustrated grumble. “Just you wait. Next time you’re in the mood, I’m going to tie you up and edge you until you’re fucking purple and dripping.”

  I pressed a hand to my own aching erection and grunted.

  “You like that idea, huh?” Hudson’s yellow eyes glittered in the dark. “You want me to bring you to the edge over and over again? Not let you come?”

  “Fuck, Hud.” His name came out on a whimper.

  “Maybe we’ll get a cock ring. Help you out.”

  I ripped my zipper open and pulled out my dick. Giving it a stroke, I moaned.

  “That for me?” Hudson asked, his voice low.

  I met his gaze and let the weight of my lust—the weight of my emotions—show. “Always. Only ever for you.”

  “Fuck. Fuck the blow job,” he panted. “I need to be inside of you.”

  “Yeah? Let me get your cock wet—” I was practically drooling to do so.

  “Lube. In my pocket.”

  “Even better.”

  I kicked off my shoes, pants, and underwear, not caring about the bite of chill air, and accepted the packet of lube Hudson had dug out of his pocket. “Optimistic much?”

  “Hopeful.”

  “You hoped you’d get laid in your rented SUV?” My voice was light, happy, and for the first time in months, I felt like me. Like I didn’t have to hide anything from Hudson anymore—because I didn’t.

  “A boy can dream.” He shucked off his pants and underwear with one smooth move, and lay back again, holding his dick up at a ninety-degree angle. “Ride me, cowboy.”

  I laughed—a sound that quickly turned to a moan as I worked myself open. I didn’t have the patience to do more than a cursory job. I wanted that thing in me now.

  “For the record, never a cowboy,” I said as I straddled him. It was a little awkwa
rd—the SUV was not a bedroom, and the roof was lower than I thought. But as I sank down on him, everything else fell away.

  He made a guttural sound, unintelligible, followed by a long, drawn-out “Fuuuuuck.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  The pain was negligible—there, but not enough to concern me or detract from the pleasure zinging through my veins. This connection was worth way more than a little pinch and sting. And when I rolled my hips, even that was forgotten.

  The slap of our bodies punctuated our moans, groans, and god-so-goods. I reveled in the control I had in this position—not that I’d ever complain about Hudson drilling me into the mattress, because I loved feeling him on top of me, feeling the power and strength in his body. But this was more like a dance. Me undulating and rotating my hips, enticing him with the movements of my body even as I clenched him tight within me, making his eyes close when the pleasure got too great, making his fangs jut out as he opened his mouth in a silent gasp.

  But as much as I wanted to draw it out, I couldn’t. My balls drew up, tightened, and I rocked harder, faster, hitting that perfect spot inside me that made everything more intense.

  Hudson recognized that chase. “Yeah. Yeah, Wes, c’mon.”

  “Need you.” I couldn’t stop the whimpered words if I wanted to.

  “You have me. Always.”

  I glared at him. “I know. But I need you to fucking bite me.”

  He grinned. “Kinky.”

  I rammed myself down on him and tightened every muscle I could. “Hudson!”

  With a muted roar, he lunged upward and sank his fangs into my neck.

  Fuck, yes.

  My cock spasmed between us, but that physical manifestation of my peak was drowned out by everything else. My body sang with its release—not just my balls or dick or ass, but everything. Dimly I recognized Hudson’s arms wrapped tight around me and his hard, animalistic thrusts before he bit down harder with his own orgasm. I melted against him, letting him drink his fill, knowing that I had never been and would never be safer than in Hudson’s arms.

  * * *

  We were almost back to my place—round two was on both of our minds—when my phone lit up with a call from Iskander. A call. Not a text. He rarely called anymore, because of the unreliability of his voice. My heart jumped into my throat as I hit Accept and put the call on speaker.

 

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