by Eve Langlais
“You want us to shove our noses in books, then we will. But in the meantime, I have another question.” Adara shifting Logan long enough to tuck her legs up under her, making herself more comfortable. “Why are they coming after me now?”
“Perhaps because you’ve agitated them?” Titus arched a brow. “Surely, you didn’t think your nocturnal hunts went unnoticed.”
“I killed a few measly monsters. We’re talking the lowest of the low. If it wasn’t me, someone else would have wasted them.” Adara dropped into the slang she’d adopted.
“But it wasn’t a human or an enforcer,”—in this case, a quad of vampires who kept the city clean of riff-raff—“that eliminated the beasts. That kept poking her nose and asking questions. You did. A woman who remains a mystery. Given the effort put into making you forget, did you really think it would be so easy?”
Adara’s lower lip jutted. “I just wanted answers.”
“You can’t get replies from the dead,” was Titus’s dry reply.
“Dead?” The doctor squeaked, her mind obviously stronger than Titus gave her credit for. “Adara, what have you been doing?”
Slim shoulders rolled. “You told me to slay my demons.”
“I said conquer them, not actually kill real demons.”
Adara snorted. “Then you should have been clearer. No big deal.”
“And a waste of your time,” Titus interjected. “None of them could have told you anything because they were of the lower castes. Mere bestial hybrids.”
“Meaning what?” Adara asked.
“They were fathered by a demon onto an Earth realm creature.”
“Logan said they weren’t demons.”
“They aren’t recognized as such because of their hybrid nature.”
“So they were half human?” Adara’s nose scrunched.
“No, demons and humans tend to create succubi. The monsters you fought were probably a pairing with a dog or cat. Maybe even a rat. Those are the most common. But I’ve heard of matings with frogs and birds, too.”
“Ew,” the doctor exclaimed.
Adara sighed. “Great. I’ve been killing stray pets.”
“Actually, their mixed blood means they don’t even rank as pets. But that said, anytime something is killed, someone takes notice.”
“Or the slaying has nothing to do with it, and she’s just being targeted. Like she was with the necromancer,” Dr. Bevin said with a push of her glasses.
“Also a possibility,” Titus admitted.
“How do I stop the attacks?” Adara asked.
“The easiest method?” he queried, then replied. “Hide. Drop completely out of sight.”
“For how long?”
“More than likely your lifetime.”
Her nose predictably wrinkled. “That’s kind of extreme. What’s option two?”
“We find out who is after you and put a stop to it.”
“More killing?” interjected the doctor. “You can’t ask her to do that.”
“Well, we can’t exactly ask them politely to cease their efforts,” Titus retorted.
“Why not?”
“Because she is forsaken.”
Chapter Twelve
The problem with channeling a voice that wasn’t your own? The shrink who used to look upon you as if you were crazy got a horrified expression as she realized you weren’t just telling the truth but also possibly possessed.
“What just happened?” Kyla squeaked. Because Adara personally thought they’d gone past doctor and patient to, if not friend, then at least acquaintances that should use first names.
“That’s my other,”—Adara used finger quotes to emphasize—“voice. Remember, I told you about it.”
“You said you spoke a few times in a deep voice. That wasn’t you!”
“Obviously, it wasn’t me,” Adara said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I guess technically it was, but not really. I think it might have been my old doctor, who planted those weird messages in my head. It mostly emerges when someone is asking too many questions.” And makes her memories strain too hard.
The truth fought against whatever remnants of the spell remained, hammering at the bands holding closed the door on her recollections.
But that barrier was beginning to bend.
“Do you feel anything when the voice speaks?” Kyla asked.
“I feel…” Adara hesitated because she felt so many things. Fear because she wasn’t in control. Despair because the words stripped her of her every hope, leaving her alone and despondent. Anger? Yes, anger because this was her body, her mind. And how dare anyone play with them?
“Adara?” the doctor prodded.
She sucked in a breath. “I don’t know how to explain it. Let’s just say it’s annoying and I want it to stop. Which means, I can’t hide. The voice is inside me. I need to make it go away.”
“If you stay, then there will be more attacks,” Titus remarked.
“Then we’ll fight.” And win, like they’d won this evening.
Initially, when the demon first smashed through the window, Adara had frozen, but her instincts soon kicked in. It was getting easier each time.
As she’d fought the monkey demons, she’d even gotten another flash of her past. She recalled another skirmish in a training arena. The hard-packed dirt floor stained, the stone walls surrounding the vast, open space pitted and splattered with something dark.
In that vision, she’d held her sword—Diimon Makir, gleaming and eager—as she waited for the portcullis to open. Who would she fight next? She crouched and—
The memory had ended as quickly as it started, a startling reminder that she used to have an entirely different life.
She heard Kyla and Titus bickering.
“…cannot go to the police. These are not affairs that concern them.”
“Well, it concerned me,” Kyla exclaimed. “Those things attacked me, too.”
“Told you being around me was dangerous,” Adara muttered.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Kyla paced again, her body agitated. “Think of it like trying to get out of a gang or the mob. You need to ask for help. Maybe go to a safe house that has plenty of police presence.”
“Mere humans guarding her won’t be enough,” Titus said.
“According to you, the cops managed to arrest those three last night,” Adara said in her doctor’s defense.
“Those police officers were killed before they made it to the station.”
“Oh, dear.” Kyla stopped pacing to flop onto a chair. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “This isn’t happening.”
A movement near the door caught Adara’s attention. Stefan. Her gaze narrowed. But he never once looked in her direction.
“Milord. You are returned early.”
“We had a problem.”
“Do you require my services?” Stefan asked, making Adara wonder exactly what else he would be doing other than serving Titus. Wasn’t that his job?
“Yes. There is a mess at the doctor’s office that requires cleaning.”
“On it.”
“Plus, I need you to do something about her.” He waved a hand at the doctor. “She keeps asking questions and knows too much.”
Kyla took offense. “Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize your misogynistic attitude couldn’t handle a woman with a brain.”
“I have no problem with intelligence. But you don’t know when to be quiet, it seems.”
“Are you telling me to shut up?” Kyla waggled a finger at Titus while Adara watched in rapt attention. “Oh, no you don’t. This is not the eighteen hundreds or whenever you were born. We have a right to speak our minds.”
“Indeed, you do,” Stefan soothed, stepping between his boss and the doctor. “I’ll bet your thoughts on just about everything are fascinating.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Kyla snapped at Stefan. “Your come-hither voice won’t work. I’m not attracted to gigolos.”
His lips quirked,
not offended at all that she’d noted his teal-colored jeans and black silk shirt open a few buttons too many down his navel. “No one pays for my services, although they do beg for more.”
“The sign of a selfish lover who gets his pleasure but forgets his partners.”
Stefan’s mouth gaped as she turned the tables on his words. “My lovers are all satisfied, I assure you.”
“Why assure me? If it’s true, then you have nothing to prove.” Kyla’s quick retorts had Stefan frowning.
On the other hand, Adara grinned widely.
Face set in a scowl, Stefan said to his boss, “I see your problem. I’m on it.”
“On what? You better not be thinking you can come near me. I am not going anywhere with you.” While Kyla protested, Stefan advanced. She only quieted once he stood in front of her, then Adara didn’t know what he did, just that when he held out his hand, the doctor grabbed it. She stood and meekly followed Stefan out of the room.
“What did he do to her? Where is he taking my doctor?”
“Don’t worry. Stefan won’t hurt her. Merely feed on some of her more intense emotions.”
“Feed on her?” Her brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“She won’t even know. It will make it easier to erase her memories.”
“You’re still doing that?” Adara asked.
“I must. She will be safer not knowing.”
“Won’t she remember the next time I go see her?”
Judging by Titus’s face, she’d said the wrong thing. “No, she won’t remember because you won’t be seeing her anymore.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “But I need my sessions.”
“You’ll have to postpone them for a while. You saw what happened this evening. Do you want to risk a repeat and put someone else in jeopardy?”
“Of course not, but—”
“No buts, Adara. If you are feeling turmoil, then we will find you someone more appropriate.”
“I don’t want your help.” She knew it sounded petulant, which matched her jutting lower lip.
“Now you’re being petty.”
“I won’t have you being a target because you want to be nice.”
“Don’t insult me. I am never nice.”
For some reason, his indignation brought a smile. “Sure, you’re not.”
“Unfortunately, we’ll have to postpone our other plans for this evening.”
“What plans?” She didn’t recall having any.
“If you’d not run off so promptly, you would have known I made arrangements for us to see Madame Poulin.”
“The witchy lady who’s gonna set me free?”
Titus winced. “I wouldn’t call her a witch to her face Remember what happened with Giselle? Madame Poulin’s temper is even shorter and more perverse.”
“I’ll be nice. When can we go? I’m ready.”
“Not so quick. Unfortunately, we missed our appointment, and even if I could get her to reschedule for this evening, the spell requires Logan. Awake. Which won’t be happening for hours still.”
Her lips turned down. “So, I gotta wait until tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“That’s forever,” she moaned.
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” was his dry reply. “We should put that time to good use.”
“Doing what?” she asked.
“I could think of many things to do, Adara.” The way he said her name, low and sexy, did something to her belly. She shifted on the couch.
“You are flirting,” she stated, shifting Logan off her lap.
“Never claimed I wasn’t.”
“I’m not ready.” She might never be ready. But given her fluttery reply, he could tell she was healing.
“I know, dearest. And I can wait. In the meantime, can I interest you in a turn around the library? I’ve got some books we can study.”
“I’d like that.” Her smile proved genuine, and she even allowed Titus to clasp her hand. The tremor she felt didn’t make her draw away.
Rather she embraced it.
Chapter Thirteen
When next Logan woke, he found himself sprawled naked on a couch—not a first for him—and not in his house—which was odd because he usually always found his way home after a bender.
He didn’t need to look around to recognize who owned the fancy fabric he drooled on. Apparently, he’d made it back to Titus’s place. Did the vampire have to carry him after he’d practically collapsed with exhaustion? Multiple shifts in quick succession would do that to a man.
He wiggled around a bit on the cushions, smirking because the couch smelled distinctly of wolf. His mirth tripled at the fact that Titus would know he’d rubbed his dangly bits on it.
The vampire would probably have the sofa burned. Then, hopefully, buy something a little larger and manlier. Something with plaid that hid stains and lasted forever.
Rising from the couch, Logan cocked an ear and listened. The only sound he could perceive was the ticking of a clock. The drawn drapes in the room indicated daytime, which meant the leech would be asleep. But what about Adara? The link between them let him know she was close by.
As he scratched, dried gunk flaked—the remnants of demon goop on his skin. Gross. I need a shower. In a bad way. However, his obsession meant he first checked on Adara.
The door to her bedroom opened on silent hinges, and he peeked in to find her sleeping—alone. Kind of. A thick, leather-bound book, the musty smell acrid enough to wrinkle the nose lay on the bed beside her.
For a moment, he stood staring at her, admiring the smooth lines of her face. The way her dark hair fanned over the pillow, the light streak a contrast that seemed thicker than before.
She appeared peaceful, obviously not suffering from the nightmares that plagued her. Logan wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside her and snuggle. But that required permission.
With his concern over Adara assuaged, he left and hit a guest room he’d used before. Much as he disliked Titus, this wasn’t the first time they’d worked together.
He quickly showered and dressed in the clothes some servant had left on a chair. At times, Logan wondered if the vampire employed ghosts, for those working in the house were rarely seen or heard. But they did leave a scent. A human one.
It made a man wonder how the leech hired them. Did he put an ad in the paper? Blood-sucking employer seeking maid to dust, vacuum, and donate blood. Who would want to work for someone that saw you as food?
To be fair, Logan had never heard of anyone complaining.
Perhaps because Titus ate them.
Refreshed and chomping at the bit to do something, Logan debated: stick around and watch Adara sleep, or get shit done?
General dislike for the vampire didn’t mean Logan couldn’t acknowledge the fact that Titus’s house would provide security. Just because he didn’t see guards roaming didn’t mean they weren’t present. The vampire was paranoid about his safety.
Add in the fact that it was daytime, and that added another layer of security. Demons didn’t roam in sunlight. Or so all the rumors claimed. Logan wasn’t an expert by any means. Most of his information came second-hand, which meant some could be faulty on purpose. He did find it interesting though that vampires and demons shared the same allergy to sunlight. Did Titus have a demon in the family closet?
Not that he cared. Logan was only interested in demons because of his desire to protect Adara.
He wouldn’t accomplish anything sitting around here, though, so he left a note slipped under Adara’s door in case she woke. Twenty minutes later, after borrowing a car—a sweet Lexus with leather seats and more buttons than he knew what to do with—he pulled up outside his house.
Immediately, he noted the front bay window sported a blue sticker and appeared cleaner than usual. Glass glittered on the grass in front of it. What the hell had happened here? Did his pack have a party that got out of hand?
Logan walked into his
house and was bombarded.
An agitated looking Kevin yanked a phone from his ear and yelled, “About fucking time you showed up.”
“What’s wrong?” Logan asked.
“Wrong?” his beta drawled. “Did you not notice the broken glass on the front lawn?”
“Yeah. Did the pups have a party and get a little wild?”
“If by pups, you mean demons. And by wild, attacked.”
Logan blinked. “Demons hit my house? I didn’t smell them.”
“Neither did we, which is how they managed to get inside.”
It explained why his chairs and couch looked a little more battered than usual, and his coffee table was gone. “Did we win?”
“Duh.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “They might have taken us by surprise, but we held our own. And then went into clean-up mode.”
“No shit. You fixed the window pretty fast.”
“Only because Enzo had some stuff at his shop that fit. We replaced the window and did our best to hose down the mess outside before the neighbors noticed.”
“I think we can be fairly sure they noticed. Not like you can hide the sound of breaking glass and a brawl.”
Kevin shook his head. “That’s just it. There was no smell. No sound. Weirdest shit you ever didn’t hear.”
“Magic?” Logan queried with an incredulous note.
“Seems most likely. It wasn’t just the demons who were muffled. We were, too. Every snarl was silenced. Fucking uncanny, I tell you. A fight ain’t a fight without noise.”
“Any casualties?”
“Not on our side,” Kevin boasted. “A few cuts and bruises. But it will all heal.”
“How many attacked?”
“Five. One big one, and four small with wings. Nasty buggers with sharp teeth.”
Logan scrubbed his face. “Sorry.” While he’d been busy snoring on Titus’s couch, his own pack had been in jeopardy.