If she could get his phone, maybe Asher could trace where the picture was supposed to be sent. It was a faint hope, at best, but better than nothing. And speaking of her lover, “You ever heard the name Asher?” If he was the boogeyman, she might as well use the connection.
The talker shook his head but the silent one straightened from his slouch. “I heard the name.”
Maybe at least one of them had some sense.
“Fuck this Asher guy. I don’t care about him. And what kind of name is that anyway?” the talker added.
“You should.” She rolled her shoulders and slightly bent her knees, ready in case one or both attacked. “He got the name because he ashes vampires. He’s the oldest of your kind.”
“He’s a myth,” the quiet one said.
“He’s very real. He’s the one your Council calls when they can’t handle a rogue.”
“Well, he’s not here, is he?” The talker licked his lips and smiled. “And I want that money.”
The quieter one shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”
“You’re a bloody coward. We’re stronger than she is. She’s only human.”
Jo drew two knives and held them easily in front of her. “What I am is a hunter.”
“Then why hasn’t that Asher guy killed you? See, she’s lying,” he told his buddy.
“I’m not lying. And if you want to keep on living, you need to walk away.”
“I ain’t walking away from that much money.” The talker launched himself at her.
Jo flung her knives at their target.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The yell of pain that split the night had his heart racing and his knees weak. He rounded the end of the building and came to a dead stop. A male lay on the ground with two knives sticking from his chest. Jo stood like an angel of death, back to the wall, sword at the ready.
No, not an angel. A hunter.
He breathed out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
Her throw was a little off center once again. They’d have to work on that.
“You’re pulling to the left.”
“He was a moving target,” she shot back. Her words were cocky, but there was relief in her voice.
Another male had his hands out in front of him and was slowly backing away. Knowing Maccus would handle him, Asher stalked toward her. His fangs had dropped, and his eyes were burning red. He was the monster from her nightmare, but she lowered her weapon.
“You’re alive.” The hoarse whisper was torn from his soul. He placed his hand on the side of her face. She covered his hand with hers.
He swallowed heavily. The last time he’d experienced such terror was the night he’d died. Something evil whispered in the breeze and sent an icy shiver of dread through him.
That was the last time he’d had something, or someone, to lose.
He took her mouth, tasting her sweet lips, breathing in the sheer presence of her. She went up on her toes and clung to him, twining her tongue with his.
She’s alive. She’s alive. It was a chant in his blood, the very beat of his heart.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted her when he finally released her.
“I’m fine.” She patted his chest. Her skin was pale, her hair mussed, but she was as steady as always. “These vamps weren’t much of a challenge and that one”—she pointed at the guy being held by Maccus—“had already decided to walk away.” The one on the ground with knives sticking out of his chest groaned. “This one wasn’t as smart.”
Asher snarled and started toward him, but she grabbed his arm and held on. “Wait a minute. They were supposed to send proof of death to an email address on that one’s phone.” She indicated the guy on the ground.
“I understand.” He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, set her aside, and went to deal with the latest threat toward his woman. “Do you know who I am?” he asked the male, who was busy trying to yank the blades from his chest.
“No, man.” His eyes darted all around, not lingering on Asher. “She knifed me.” He sounded bewildered and so very young.
Asher crouched beside him and yanked out the first blade. He screamed, his back bowing off the ground. Vampires might heal quickly, but they still felt pain acutely. The younger they were, the less experience they had dealing with it.
“What did you expect would happen?” He twirled the blade in his hand and waited for an answer.
“You know.” He licked his lips and started to shrug but winced instead. The knife wound in his chest was closing.
“No, tell me.” Asher placed his hand on top of the remaining knife and drove it deeper.
The scream echoed off the surrounding buildings. He was panting heavily, searching for help that wasn’t coming. “Easy money, man. A million dollars. Or two, since my buddy was a fucking coward.”
He shook his head at the sheer stupidity and waste of it all. “Not all humans are easy pickings.” Hand on the blade, he twisted it.
“Asher.” Jo came up behind him and hovered there.
“No, he was going to kill you. For money. Just because you fought back and won doesn’t mean he won’t do it again.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t. I promise.” The words tumbled out of the male’s mouth.
He’d heard it before, but his kind never changed. They enjoyed the thrill of the forbidden, of being stronger and more dangerous than those around them. This one was beyond redemption. He took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do.
“You will.” So much potential that would go unrealized, because he had an inflated sense of entitlement. “Have you harmed innocents before?” The question was a compulsion, one that had to be answered.
He shook his head, even as the opposite spilled past his lips. “Three times. No four. Okay, five. But it was bloodlust. I got carried away.”
“The truth,” Asher demanded as he yanked the remaining blade out.
His yell turned to a whimper. “I liked it. All my life, women turned me away, but I could make them want me.”
“No, you couldn’t, because you didn’t change, didn’t learn and grow. All women are to be respected. You don’t take what they don’t offer.” It was the worst kind of abuse, in his opinion.
“I have to eat,” he complained. “And they wanted it. They said they didn’t, but they did. I know they did. Why shouldn’t I just take what I want?”
“You could have easily fed without doing them harm.” He knew Jo would argue that taking their blood without their knowledge was harming them, but the reality of the situation dictated that vampires needed blood.
“I’ll change. I promise.”
He couldn’t be impartial because it was Jo’s life that had been at stake. This was not a decision he could make alone. He looked to Maccus, who nodded.
So be it.
Asher brought the knife down hard, driving it into the male’s chest. It was the work of seconds to shove his hand into the cavity he’d created and yank out the heart. “So young,” he muttered.
The death weighed heavy on him, but there was nothing else he could have done. The rules had been broken, innocent women harmed, and some killed with no remorse. If left alive, he would have continued to do the same and even escalated.
“Where is the Vampire Council?” His job was to handle dangerous rogues they couldn’t, not punks like this.
He stood to face the other vampire.
“I didn’t hurt anyone,” he protested.
“Yet you came here to do just that.” He gripped the man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me the truth.”
“I honestly thought it was a lark. I mean, it was an anonymous email offering two million dollars. I figured I’d tag along to keep him out of trouble.”
Every year that he’d lived pressed down on him, the shee
r weight almost too much to bear. Why were so many of the young so foolish? “That didn’t work out so well.”
“No, it didn’t. I only met him a few weeks ago.”
“Who was his maker?” Jo asked. She stood beside him, her hand on his back, grounding him.
“Some guy named Damian. He got himself ashed a while back somewhere in Alaska, of all places.”
Maccus released his captive. “That’s curious, indeed. And certainly a reason why a young vampire would run amok.”
There was a story there, but it would have to wait until he’d dealt with this. “And you?” Asher asked. “Who are you, and who made you?”
“I’m Frank. Frank Boggs, originally from Iowa. Etienne Macron in France was my maker. I was over there on holiday when it happened. I wanted to come home. I’m on a six-month trial stay here.”
Asher got his information and released him with the warning he’d be contacting his maker and the Council. “Tread lightly, Frank. The next time you see me will be your last.”
The young man nodded and then, surprisingly, turned to Jo. “I’m real sorry.”
“You tried to talk him out of it.”
His eyes strayed to the pile of clothes that was all that remained of his buddy. Then Frank turned and ran like the wind.
“You recognized that name, didn’t you? Damian?” He’d seen the slight flicker of recognition in Maccus’s eyes.
“Another questionable contract a few months back.”
“Alexei?”
“Alexei? You’ve mentioned him before. Some sort of bear, right?” Jo asked.
Asher dragged her into his arms and pressed his lips against the top of her head. Having her in his arms helped quell the fury and fear pulsing through him with every beat of his heart. “Russian polar bear vampire. A dangerous hybrid. What happened with him?” he asked. “We need to know.”
Maccus walked over to the discarded pile of clothes and dug through them until he found the wallet and phone. He tossed both at Asher, who had to release Jo to catch them.
“Check the phone first,” he ordered.
Asher swallowed his impatience. Pushing wouldn’t get him answers any faster. He turned on the phone and scrolled through messages. “Same sender who’s been behind all of this.” He read one message in particular and then smiled at Jo. “Want to play dead?”
The air stirred and thickened with fury. The malevolence he’d sensed recently was back, and it was close. “Stay behind me,” he warned Jo.
“What is it?” she asked. “I’ve felt this before.”
Maccus backed Morrigan into a corner, putting her out of harm’s way.
Whoever this was, they were no youngster. There was power behind the hatred that he could taste. It was old and strangely familiar.
“How about she plays dead for real?” A shadow detached from the wall. Asher blinked several times, unable to believe his eyes. It couldn’t be.
“Mosi?”
…
Who or what was Mosi?
The newcomer was slightly taller than Asher but exuded a confidence that was similar. His hair was dark, his skin a light brown, but she couldn’t tell his eye color in the dim light.
“I go by Eric now. Such a common name but fitting in is the key to staying alive. And I do so enjoy my life.”
“Asher?” Why had his face lost all color? All he was doing was staring at the newcomer. This is so not good.
She glanced at Maccus, but all his attention was on the latest threat.
Great, someone else who wanted to kill her. The demon had made her knees weak and scared her spitless. This guy sent a chill right to the very core of her being. He was not only dangerous to her but to Asher.
Her blood was like ice, and her stomach threatened to rebel. She locked her knees and dug deep for courage.
“This is my brother.” She barely heard his whisper. When the words sank in, her heart skipped a beat.
“I thought they all died.” That’s what he’d told her. But he hadn’t found all the bodies.
Eric laughed. “No thanks to him. Did he tell you that he hid inside with our mother? His one job was to protect her, and he failed.”
She swallowed back her protest, not wanting to antagonize Eric. He was as old as Asher. Was he as powerful?
“Why?” The anguish in Asher’s voice brought tears to her eyes. “All these years. Why didn’t you ever let me know you were alive? I thought you died that night. I looked for your body.”
“Tell the great vampire slayer I was alive?” Bitterness coated his laugh. “You’d already allowed our mother to die. I wasn’t going to give you the chance to murder me.”
Asher took the accusation like a blow, flinching from it. This guy was really starting to piss her off. He knew right where to hit his brother for the biggest impact. And Asher was reeling.
While she had firsthand experience with survivor’s guilt, understood it all too well, it was time to fight back.
“He couldn’t have done anything more than he did. He was anemic.” If he wouldn’t defend himself, she would.
“Is that what he told you?” Eric’s smile was nasty and cruel. “Weak and lazy. That’s all that was wrong with him. And then Sekhmet blessed him. Him!” The roar shook the surrounding buildings. Several pigeons took off from the roof, flapping madly as they flew away.
So much pent-up anger.
“Why now?” she echoed Asher’s earlier question. “You’ve been around for thousands of years.” She pressed a hand against her stomach, afraid she already knew the answer.
“Why you, my dear.” His studied her from head to toe. It was like having thousands of spiders crawling over her skin. Swimming in a pool of eels would have left her feeling less slimy. There wasn’t enough hot water and soap in the world to rid her of the taint.
“It was fun to watch my brother from afar when he was alone and nothing more than an instrument of the goddess. I could enjoy the misery he experienced every time he had to put down a vampire. Weak,” he spat. “We are superior to humans. They live to serve our whims.”
“We could have been a family, real brothers instead of only being related by blood.” Asher’s voice was stronger, but he was still too unsteady for her peace of mind. “I would have welcomed you, helped you.”
God, this had to be tearing Asher apart.
“You would have murdered me,” Eric roared. “Or tried to. Bad enough I’ve had to keep my actions secret. Killing you would be a pleasure, but it might bring Sekhmet, and I enjoy living too much.
“Now you’ve given me my perfect revenge. I take the woman he loves from him, leaving him broken and in anguish, while I go back to my perfect life.”
“Not so perfect if you’ve spent all these years obsessing about him,” she shot back. Why wasn’t Maccus saying anything? He was as still as a statue, hiding Morrigan from sight.
“I should have killed you that night,” Eric continued, seeming lost in his own thoughts.
Asher stirred. “What do you mean?”
“You were always worthless.”
“Worthless,” Asher repeated. He shook himself as though coming out of a daze. “The vampire who attacked and killed our mother, the one who started to drain me, said that. He struck so fast it was impossible to see him. It was so dark that night, the shadows swallowing everything and everyone.”
Shit, this wasn’t good. She drew the sword from the sheath at her back and held it down by her side. Her fingers flexed around the handle. Any paranormal creature would die without their head. All she needed was an opening.
Eric’s smile was twisted and evil. “She was weak, always protecting you. You were her favorite. I was the oldest. I worked harder than any of the rest of you. If she’d been kinder to me, I might have let her live.”
“Tell me you didn’t kill her. She w
as our mother.” Anguish bled from every word.
“I thought I’d die when I was bitten. So many did. But I survived when thousands perished. I was stronger, invincible.” He licked his lips, flashing his fangs. “I couldn’t stomach your blood. If I had known how things would turn out, I would have cut your head off that night instead of leaving you for dead. I’ve killed thousands. Now I’ll do the same to your woman.”
Asher’s roar of fury shook the ground as he launched himself at his brother. The two of them slammed together with a force that should have killed them. It had to have shattered bones.
“What’s happening?” They were moving too fast for her to see. There was no mistaking the sound of flesh pounding flesh. Blood sprayed around them. “Do something,” she demanded of Maccus.
He shook his head. “This is a family matter. He wouldn’t thank me to step in.”
Fucking useless. Maccus might not want to get involved, but she had no such reservations.
Eric smashed against the wall nearest her and rolled to his feet. Deep gouges on his arms and neck healed before her very eyes. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled. “Still a weakling.”
“Don’t make me do this.” Asher was breathing heavily, his hair mussed, his clothing bloodstained. The anguish in his eyes was worse than any physical injury he’d sustained.
…
Mosi was alive. All these years.
He killed our mother.
Had he done it due to the bloodlust of being newly turned or had it been out of jealousy? He might have been able to forgive that if his brother had come to him years ago and expressed remorse.
Whatever he’d been, his brother was now a monster. One of the gifts the goddess had given him was the ability to see into a person’s heart, to know if their words were true or false. Eric had killed, often and with great relish. He was the kind of creature Asher was duty bound to put down.
He’d threatened Jo.
There’s no coming back from that.
“Our father should have smothered you at birth to preserve the bloodline,” he taunted. “Even now, with your superior strength and abilities, you don’t enjoy them. You always thought you were better than the rest of us.”
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