“I was so afraid of the day I wouldn’t be of use to him anymore, that I led the hunt that killed him.”
He didn’t tell Vic the full truth, that his hand held the weapon that pierced Sir Harry’s chest. Tears ran down his face.
“You went from the keep of a murderous vampire to the iron grip of the Society,” murmured Vic. “Oh John, no wonder you have no sense of humor.”
Johnathan snorted. The action made the gruesome wound of his shoulder protest. “The Society purports all vampires are evil fiends. They battered that doctrine into my bones, into every vein through fist and blade. Yet here I am. With you.”
Vic sighed. “Still despise me for existing?”
“I don’t,” he said. “That’s the problem, I fear.”
He didn’t dare look at Vic, for the pity he might see and the bleak sense of his future. He couldn’t examine the nature of the bond that existed between them, but he had to acknowledge it existed, new and fragile as it was. It would damn him in the Society’s eyes. Did Dr. Evans know the nature of the vampire that resided in this isolated corner of the world? Perhaps Johnathan’s final test wasn’t his skill, but his resolve to the mission from the beginning.
“I’m a failure as a Hunter,” he murmured, his head so easily resting on Vic’s solid shoulder. He teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
“Rest, John.” Vic touched his face, so softly. “The hunt isn’t over yet.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Johnathan woke under a plaster sky. He recognized the cracks in Pastor Shaw’s ceiling, the sight now too familiar for his comfort. Though he couldn’t recall how he managed the journey from the woods to the pastor’s residence, he was immeasurably relieved that he needn’t have summoned the energy to move his carcass.
Urgency bloomed up from the pit of his stomach. The previous night’s events rushed to the fore. Alyse! Her family! Their house was marked! They had a demon to contend with!
Johnathan swore and sat up. Immediate regret set in as the limits of his body caught him up in a vise. His stomach rolled. Every inch of him ached. The fluid rush of his pulse drowned out everything until cool hands gently forced him back down.
“Good god, man, you’re going to undo all of Alyse’s work,” said Vic.
“He’s going to tear his stitches. Again.” Alyse tutted from somewhere to his left.
Johnathan attempted to reassure her that her exemplary stitch work would hold just fine, though his wound might be a touch infected from cavorting with sadistic fairies, but his tongue sat thick and useless in his mouth.
“Could you hand me that cup of water, love?” Vic asked.
“He’ll drain this. I’ll fill the jug.”
The sound of Alyse’s retreating footsteps rolled through his head in a booming echo. Johnathan squeezed his eyes shut through the assault and collapsed back against the wooden headboard, angered by the failings of his body. Icy liquid pressed against his lips and he parted them, grateful for the water that soothed his muddled senses. Grit scraped beneath his eyelids as he looked up at Vic’s concerned face.
“How long have I been out?” Johnathan rasped, but he could feel the strength slowly returning to his limbs, revitalized by the water like he’d swallowed a magic elixir.
“Not long, half a day at most since,” said Vic.
Johnathan appraised the vampire. Long enough for a change of clothes and a feeding, he thought, the vampire’s appearance nearly as slick as when he’d first seen him, the mask of a civilized country gentleman firmly back in place.
The door opened and Vic turned, his expression minutely shifting when Alyse entered in such a way that Johnathan went still. Something akin to jealousy flared through him, one that made him long for their quiet confessions beneath the open sky instead of the hot knot of emotion that buzzed in his thoughts. Until Vic’s hand sought his, threading their fingers together on the other side of Johnathan’s legs, out of Alyse’s sight.
“Alyse arrived on horseback roughly an hour after you blacked out. You didn’t rouse, so we tossed you across a saddle blanket and brought you here.”
“You used a blanket? How thoughtful.”
Alyse made a small choking noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She sniffed. “I patched you up again while Vic tended to his own…needs.”
Johnathan glanced at her, a little paler than he’d last seen her, but she wore the same stubborn expression. “You don’t have to be coy about his needs—”
Vic’s hand slid over Johnathan’s mouth, and his lips touched Johnathan’s temple. “Shhh. Remember, you aren’t the only listening ears in this house.”
Alyse’s eyes widened. Her appraising glance went between the two of them, though Johnathan wasn’t sure what she saw. “What else happened in those wretched woods?” she mused.
A haunted expression flickered through the vampire’s eyes. “Too much.”
“Obviously. You were gone for nearly a week,” said Alyse.
Johnathan jerked. “What?”
Vic winced. “I was working up to that.”
“You said we weren’t in there more than a day,” said Johnathan, fighting to sit up. The ache of fever bloomed beneath the surface of his skin, the angry red heat of it beat beneath his wounded shoulder.
“Easy,” said Alyse, taking the chair by the bed. She smoothed her plain woolen skirts so that not a crease was out of place. The prim and proper picture of a pastor’s daughter, Johnathan realized her appearance was as much a facade as Vic’s, though he didn’t know the woman beneath as well as the vampire did. “Your wound was infected. We lanced it, but your body needs to heal.”
Healing be damned. They’d been gone for a week! Yet there was no urgency in Miss Shaw’s demeanor. “How are you so calm?” Johnathan asked. “Your house was marked. What happened while we were gone?”
One of those glances passed between Vic and Alyse, the sort that made Johnathan feel every inch the outsider, as if the secrets he shared with Vic never happened. Irritation flared. It shouldn’t matter if they shut him out, but now, it did. Johnathan stifled the urge to snap at her until Vic gently squeezed his hand.
“It’s been quiet,” Alyse admitted. Worry bracketed her mouth. “No more disappearances, no creatures, nothing except—” She bit her lip and looked to Vic as though for permission.
“A group of gentlemen arrived from Boston yesterday morn.” Vic’s long fingers tapped along his thigh, his expression carefully blank. “Would you know anything about that, Johnathan?”
Johnathan flinched, remembering the moment he’d slid a letter to Mrs. Meech. They were earlier than he expected. “Let me handle them.”
The lines of Alyse’s face deepened. “You sent for them,” she seethed.
He sat up, stiffly. “Look, I came here to hunt a single vampire, not woodland monsters, not ruddy fairies, and certainly not a pack of demons. I am but one man, and I fear we need an army.”
Alyse didn’t bat a lash at the statement, which meant Vic already filled her in, of course. Did the vampire share Johnathan’s intimate secrets with her as well?
His jaw clenched. “I am ill equipped and inexperienced, even with such allies as yourselves.” His gaze flickered to Vic, but he pressed on. “I knew that if we couldn’t contain the threat, the townspeople would have been left unprotected.”
“You bastard,” Alyse snarled.
“He’s right,” said Vic.
Johnathan and Alyse stared at him.
Vic shrugged. “We still don’t know the extent of what we are dealing with. If we fail to stop these creatures, they could consume the town.”
Alyse gripped his hand, the tendons taut to expose her fear. “If they find you, they’ll kill you,” she said.
There it was again, that unguarded expression in Vic’s eyes.
Johnathan’s throat went tight. “They won’t,” he said. “Vic fooled me. He’ll fool them.”
A sneer tugged at Alyse’s mouth. “Fooling a pile of fresh
meat straight out of the Society grinder doesn’t inspire much confidence.”
Johnathan bit back a retort and turned to Vic. “You know that I won’t tell them about you, but I need to report in. Preferably before they come looking for me.”
“You can barely stand,” Alyse snorted. “My little sister could knock you off your feet with one finger.”
He didn’t doubt that. His muscles were weak and wobbly as a newborn fawn, but he didn’t have the luxury of rest. “I’ll manage.”
Alyse threw up her hands in a huff and paced the room. The lack of activity bothered him. What were the demons waiting for? They had an apparent target in the Shaw household but failed to act. The other Society members hadn’t arrived until yesterday, which left several days of opportunity. Johnathan couldn’t believe the damn fairies held them for nearly seven whole days. A week of his life stolen for a few scraps of information.
The fairies seemed to fear the creatures from the Nether, but by holding Vic and Johnathan there, they allowed the demons to continue their dark deeds unhindered. And yet, no harm had been done.
What was he missing?
Pieces dangled out of reach, taunting him with his own ignorance. He needed to speak to the Society men, not just for backup, but for knowledge. They must have encountered something like this before, even if it wasn’t taught to Prospectives.
Vic sighed, releasing Johnathan’s hand to stand. His sinuous grace drew Johnathan’s gaze more so than before. “I’ll take him into town.”
“Like hell you will.” Alyse whirled on her friend. “Does your life mean so little that you’d walk into a nest of vipers?”
“Alyse,” Vic said quietly, his gray eyes wreathed in weighted shadows as he stepped toward the distraught woman.
“No.” Alyse held up a hand to fend off Vic’s calming influence. “I won’t let you risk yourself. I can take him.”
Johnathan didn’t like this plan any more than Vic appeared to, but it was difficult to argue with Miss Shaw’s logic. She didn’t have to pretend at humanity, and her presence would also help Johnathan convince whoever the Society sent that he had indeed made allies of the locals.
That portion of their plan decided, Alyse left the room so Johnathan could dress…with Vic’s help.
The vampire held out a shirt. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed.”
Johnathan deadpanned. “You must be joking.”
A self-deprecating smirk tugged at Vic’s lips. “Would you care for me to turn around instead while you struggle with your one good arm?”
Johnathan’s jaw worked while he silently took stock of his watery muscles. This did not bode well for convincing the Society to act as their back up. Could he even hold a pistol right now?
He flexed the arm below his injured shoulder, curling each finger. There was a fine, bone-deep ache from the action, but he managed. Putting on a fresh shirt and coat was another matter. He cursed softly. “I suppose I could use your help.”
Vic helped him shift to the edge of the bed and moved behind him. The vampire’s grip remained gentle as he guided Johnathan’s wounded shoulder into respectable dress. Johnathan hated that he couldn’t see Vic’s expression while he ran his hands down Johnathan’s back, smoothing the creases of the shirt as much as the awkward bandaging would allow. The action made him draw a breath, pinched by shame. Johnathan almost wished Vic would yell at him for bringing the Society to Cress Haven.
He caught Vic’s wrist when the vampire began to move away. Vic turned back, a soft expression on that breathtaking face.
“I won’t tell them about you,” swore Johnathan. “I won’t.”
It was one thing to say it in front of Alyse, another to promise Vic himself.
Vic’s skin was warmer than Johnathan had expected, a result of feeding, but Johnathan thought of it as an attribute of Vic himself. Somewhere between following him into the wood and their encounter with the fairies, he’d stopped thinking of Vic as simply “the vampire,” and he knew that personal revelation would make the coming encounter all the more difficult.
“You’re not a fiend,” said Johnathan.
Vic looked down at him, gaze somber as he took Johnathan’s face in his hands. “Some of us are, John. Some of us are predators to our bones.” He leaned down and brushed his mouth against Johnathan’s ear.
Johnathan swallowed hard; his heart pounded at the contact. His hands twitched at the strange desire to pull Vic even closer.
“I would never take from you like that.” Vic’s hand trailed down Johnathan’s neck. “Not without explicit permission, but you make me crave other things than your blood.”
Johnathan couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t look away from that silver gaze, too entranced to pull away from the moment, but too inexperienced and uncertain to express his thoughts and wants. A turn of the head would brush his lips across Vic’s.
This was dangerous territory.
Johnathan finally pulled back from Vic’s grasp, the moment shattered with his retreat.
He sucked in a ragged breath, trying to dismiss the flush that burned up from his neck, across his face. “Yes, well, there are other issues at hand. Help me to the door so I can go make a fool of myself before my superiors.”
Vic shook his head, a dark and knowing smile stretching across his mouth. “Business as usual, then?”
Johnathan could offer no more. Not yet.
“As our lives and the lives of townsfolk depend on it,” he said, “yes.”
But after? That was another matter.
Vic bowed his head graciously, acquiescing, and gestured to the door. “Lead the way then, good sir.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
After the first few minutes of bone-jarring agony, Johnathan’s injured side went blessedly numb, and he rather enjoyed the fresh air on his face as the flat-bed cart ambled into the center of town. He hoped to enjoy those spare moments of peace until Miss Shaw pulled to the side of the road, still a fair walk from town. Her knuckles were hard knobs inside her leather driving gloves, and she gripped the reins so tightly the hide squeaked.
“I don’t protest your presence to be difficult,” she said, and Johnathan roused himself to attention. “I do care about the town and the people. And I care about Vic. It’s just…” Her voice faltered. She stared down at her hands, unable to find the words she needed to explain herself.
Johnathan understood that all too well. In his time with Miss Shaw and Vic, the former remained aloof. She held herself away from Johnathan, and while he theorized why, that theory changed as his knowledge of Vic changed. Through that altered lens, though their circumstances were vastly different, Alyse reminded Johnathan a great deal of himself, or more accurately, what he could have been.
“You’re very brave, Miss Shaw, and I don’t say that to tease.” Johnathan eased himself around to properly face her and gently pried the reins from her hands. “It’s not fair to be asked to risk the one you love over the people you tolerate.” His lips twitched at what likely described her view of him. “Even when it is what is right. And you do what is right, Miss Shaw. You will leave me at the drinking house and return to Vic so they can’t look too closely at the connection between us.”
“You idiot, of course I’m not leaving you here,” said Alyse. “You’re still kitten-weak, and I want to see these monsters.”
His brows raised. “The Society aren’t—”
A shadow loomed in his thoughts, forcing a young boy to shove a blade through the heart of the one he loved. That will do.
Alyse leaned into him, her pose outwardly intimate as her lips brushed his ear. “Look around you, John. Don’t you feel it?”
Johnathan licked his lips, letting his attention broadened. He’d missed them entering the main street, too preoccupied with other thoughts, but he saw it now, a shade of itself. The townsfolk scurried about in fast half-steps, faces drawn in tense caricatures. Their eyes avoided the Society men stationed along the street who stood in a scattershot pattern,
meant to give a full visual range of the area. Two men were already staring at Shaw’s cart, their gazes expectant. Did they think Johnathan would make the worst rookie error by acknowledging them? The others radiated an air of menace, their eyes tinged with the quiet bloodlust of predators on the hunt. It was the exact opposite of Johnathan’s assignment, a complete lack of subterfuge.
What the hell were they doing?
“Miss Shaw, who are they answering to?” He didn’t insult her by asking if she investigated the newcomers. This was Alyse.
“An older gentleman,” she said, “more white in his hair than my grandfather, but I don’t think he’s half as old. Hard to get a read on him through those damn spectacles.” Her gaze searched his face. “Johnathan, he was one of the Society Hunters that showed up before.”
A small thrill surged in his gut. Johnathan’s jaw flexed. The revelation was one he wasn’t sure how to process now, or how it connected to what was happening in Cress Haven as a whole, but he couldn’t shake the sense he’d been thoroughly deceived. As for the depth of that deception and what it entailed, he would only know by confronting the man he once called mentor.
He attempted to dismount the wagon, overestimating the strength of his legs, despite Alyse’s warning, but she was already there, a living crutch with his arm slung over her shoulders.
“Come on,” she whispered, but Johnathan hesitated, a real sliver of fear worming through him.
“Miss Shaw, I might have to be stupidly gallant and insist you stay here.”
She reared back, her mouth twisted to argue, when she caught sight of his expression. “We’re not doing this.”
He forced his watery legs to hold him, and he staggered off her. “I have to go in. He already knows I’m coming.”
Her gaze flickered between him and the entrance of the drinking house. “No, we should leave now. I have a bad feeling.”
There was an ominous air to the benign building now, the door a waiting mouth to snap him up should he be so foolish to wander inside.
A Bargain of Blood and Gold Page 18