by Lauren Dane
He sat straighter but the sweat on his upper lip told her plenty.
“A very powerful witch tells me your aura has thin spots and tears. Like you’re a hundred and ten instead of forty-two. This person you’re working for is stealing years of your life. For what?”
“You’re lying,” Bob said and then his eyes went a little wild as he realized he hadn’t answered her question.
“Your boss is sucking the life out of you like you’re a human pixie stick.” Rowan smacked the back of his head with the handle of one of her knives to underline the point. Hard enough to have made his ears ring.
Clive sighed loud enough to get Rowan’s attention. She knew her spouse—who actually had reason to be arrogant—wanted to move this along so she could get off her leg. “What?”
One of his brows rose slowly at her tone. “I have the ability to just take whatever we need from his brain. You’re tired and you’ve been shot. This meatsack isn’t going to tell you anything and all the blood is going to make a mess and none of my people are going to want to feed on his poisoned carcass.”
She loved when he played the evil Vampire. It wasn’t actually acting, he was indeed a scary, very old and powerful creature who would be able to rip Bob’s mind open and take what he wanted. Bob would be a mess by the end, but it wasn’t like he was going back home to Santa Monica anyway.
“I need to keep my skills sharp though,” she told him. “Interrogation is part of the job and if you come swooping in, canines drawn to bleed this fool dry, I don’t get any exercise. Then again, bed does sound good right about now. There’s some really fancy cheese David bought for me. Cheese first and then bed.” Rowan nodded.
“Is that a yes?” Clive asked.
Bob groaned. “I can’t tell you. They’ll kill me if I do.”
“Bob, you fucking dingus, you’re dead already. It’s simply a matter of degree,” Rowan told him as she tipped her chin to Clive, telling him to get about his business.
Clive stalked over, glamouring the human so hard he nearly drooled. He didn’t even whimper when those canines slashed into his throat. A small mercy.
* * *
The human’s tainted blood filled Clive’s mouth. Toxic. Stinking of bad magic and disease. Fortunately Clive only needed a taste. Enough to create a bond. And this human was so weak Clive rolled over his feeble defenses and soaked up everything he could.
Flashes, glimpses of moments in time, snatches of conversations, Clive soaked them all up. Not knowing what they might need later.
By the time Clive broke the bond and stepped back, the meatsack was beyond pain. Beyond coherent thought or action.
Patience handed him a warm, wet cloth to clean up with.
“Dispose of him,” he called to Patience as he led Rowan from the room and back to his office where they could sit.
“He’s been to several clubs Vampires like to frequent. Not the most exclusive, but the ones on the outer edges of our society. One in Pico Rivera and another in Seal Beach. I don’t know a lot about the places other than their existence. I can get addresses and contacts ready for you by sundown,” he told Rowan.
“After Carey and Thena’s funeral we can head to LA to see what we can see,” she said. “What else does he know?”
“He’s not magically inclined, but he knows people who are.” Memories were complicated so Clive waded through what he’d learned and tried to decipher it for her. “He’s only been attending these workings for a few weeks now. He knew the power was going to be stored by the boss, but he doesn’t know who or what the boss is. Doesn’t know what the spell was or how it worked. He was a drone. Interestingly enough, though, he’s got a girlfriend who teaches high school. One of her friends is an indie witch.”
Genevieve knew what he meant. Understood Bob had been a connection to the missing witches she’d told them about earlier.
“They’re dead, Genevieve,” he said not unkindly. “Handed over to their bosses. He knew they’d been murdered.”
“I must relay all this to my compatriots,” Genevieve said.
“I’ll give you a ride back to your hotel on our way home and fill you in on everything else I discovered,” he said.
Alice got to work with Patience and their team to start information gathering for their trip to Los Angeles the following night as they left the building.
* * *
“A connection to Vampires and another to witches. It’s what we’d feared,” David said from the back seat, jarring Rowan from her thoughts.
“It’s what we’d thought and now we have more proof. The more we know, the more we know. We’re closer to finding out who is responsible and taking them out,” she said. “Be an optimist, David.”
Rowan continued, “We need a complete search of residences and places of business if applicable. And I want a stakeout on the clubs before we show up after dark. We need all the info we can get not just on the dudes from tonight but all the people Clive gave us names for. And the missing witches.” Genevieve would have known that, in order to investigate, Clive and David would be updated on what was going on. “Get me intel about the teacher girlfriend and her indie witch connections.”
“I can get that for you,” Genevieve said.
Many hands made light work, Susan always said in a weirdly chirpy tone that creeped Rowan out.
“Great. Appreciate it.” Rowan turned her attention back to David, who began to take notes again. “I want credit reports, I want to see emails, texts, calls, everything. I want to know everything we can get on all these players. Give Pru a call. She’s a Hunter I trust based out of Cerritos so she’s close enough to have the contacts to get this all in play. I’d planned to ask her to be part of the leadership of the new Motherhouse here in the United States so it’s a good thing to seek her input on this. Get in touch with her and let’s move this along. We’re getting closer to answers. I can feel it,” she told David.
“Truth be told, I’m surprised you’re not on a plane to Los Angeles right this moment,” Clive said. “Happy about that, but surprised.”
“Carey and Thena’s pyre is just after sunset and I want to be here for it and not running around LA on a crappy leg slowing me down. I want some time to get things in place. Preparation means my chances of getting more info is higher. And my leg hurts a little. I have super strength and all that, but I’ve had a long couple of days and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be at the top of my game if I went right now.”
And she knew it would have worried him and probably made him super mad if she’d gone just then. There’d have been a fight and he’d have been right and used it on her later when she tried to stop him from doing something stupid so it was better to just rest up and prepare for the battle to come.
“Whatever the reason, I’m thankful. The Nation jet will be prepared to go as soon as we’re ready after sunset.”
They dropped Genevieve off and headed back to the safe house. Each quietly putting together an itinerary for the upcoming night.
* * *
Back home, she waited until they’d gotten into her bedroom before saying anything. “I’m sorry I got shot.”
He paused and then sighed before pulling her into his arms. “Darling Hunter.”
He’d been in a meeting when she’d been hurt. He’d been simultaneously thankful and yet filled with dread regarding that link between them. “I knew you were alive.” Though he preferred not to think about what it would feel like if she’d died. “I knew you were in pain and I couldn’t get there immediately.”
He was certain Alice would have already had the door he tore from the hinges on his way out rehung. Once he’d gotten that call from David to tell him where she was and that she had been shot, he’d simply rushed to the roof and taken off toward her.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, this time addressing the real issue.
He kiss
ed her forehead before releasing her. “I daresay it won’t be the last time. I’m quite vexed that he shot you, Rowan.” Clive frowned down at her leg. “But he’s dead now. No longer a threat. I’m all right with that.”
He steered her toward the bathroom.
“I know the bad magic is gone, but it feels like it left a gross film behind,” she muttered as she got out of her clothing. “Also, they cut my pants up. I really liked those pants.”
He heard the thin thread of upset in her voice and it wasn’t from the ruined pants. She’d been really injured and hadn’t been able to prevent it. His wife liked to be in charge. He imagined she was more than angry about it.
Which made him feel even worse. Because he hadn’t been able to stop it either. And she was filled with grief and rage and he couldn’t fix it.
He turned the water on and ushered her into the stall, which was far too small to get up to anything carnal unless it was just for one.
Smoke and dirt joined dried-up blood as she washed her night from her body and down the drain.
“Could you feel a difference? When I’d been spelled?” she asked him as she stepped out and he wrapped her in a bath towel.
“Through the link it just felt like you’d been injured and were slower than usual. I knew you were strong enough to heal from something like a shot to the leg so it wasn’t overly alarming.” He was a liar, but he didn’t want to put his fears on her shoulders. And it wasn’t the question she’d asked anyway.
“It wasn’t until you weren’t healing as fast as you should have that I focused in on what I’d been feeling. There was a shadow in our link that I’d just thought was your pain.”
“It’s gone though, right?” she asked, fear in her gaze. He knew one of the things that scared her most was not being in charge of herself. That spell would cause her far more worry than the bullet ever could have.
“No shadow left. Just a cranky Hunter with wet hair who should eat something before she goes to sleep.”
“Sleep and food aren’t going to make me less cranky. That’s my base setting, as you so often tell me,” she said as she pulled on a tank and some sleep pants.
“As you said earlier, it’s all a matter of degree,” he told her before leaving the room.
The house was dark and cool in the predawn stillness as he pointed at the bed before heading to the kitchen to make her something. Healing took energy and calories. She needed food to replace what she’d used up and he needed to do something to help her heal.
He could have given her his blood. Had suggested it and got a glare of annoyance in return. So he made her a sandwich instead. After all it was her bed and if it was full of crumbs he wouldn’t be sleeping in it.
“You even put pickles on it,” she told him with a sappy smile as she took a bite.
“Aside from your choice of me as a mate, your taste can be questionable. If my wife wishes pickles on her turkey sandwich, I can put them there. As long as I don’t have to eat that way like an animal.”
“I love it when you’re arrogant about things like sandwiches. It’s sexy,” she said good-naturedly before taking another bite.
“Did Genevieve give you some sort of magical pain reliever?” he asked, amused.
“Turns out getting shot makes me run at the mouth. Shocking. After I finish this sandwich you should pleasure me. So I can sleep better. It’s science.”
Unable not to, he snorted. “If it’s science, how can I refuse?” He took her plate once she finished and returned to her.
Always caught in her orbit. Drawn back to her over and over. He stripped to join her, the heat of her skin nearly scalding against his. The scent of her blood and the magic only she had rose between them.
Clive dipped his lips to the hollow of her throat to breathe her in before leaving a kiss to the super sensitive flesh there. When she reached for him, he paused to put each of her hands back on the bed with a slight emphasis so she understood to leave them there.
She’d been harmed and it, as always, brought home just how fragile she was compared to immortals. Just how much she brought to his life that the thought of her not in it was so horrifying he did all he could not to contemplate it.
He loved this creature below him with every bit of his being and he wanted to show her with hands, lips and teeth. She arched on a soft gasp as he licked over her left nipple and then moved to the right.
The tension seemed to melt from her as she relaxed. No filmy magic poison left in her that he could sense. Nothing but his wife and the nuclear powered being who lived inside her.
He took his time, though he knew she also liked it hard and fast. He didn’t want her to hurt another second, especially not at his hands, so he gentled himself, reined in the need to rut and fuck and mark her as his own.
Instead he showed her with each caress, each kiss and lick that she was precious to him. That he accepted all of her.
When he kissed down her belly to settle between her thighs, she sighed very softly. He grinned against the skin of her inner thigh before he blew over her pussy just to feel the way her muscles trembled.
Teased with barely there licks until she snarled.
Ahhh, there she was.
He gave her what she demanded, tasting, seducing, worshipping her as he took her up and then tipped her over into climax. Relished her taste and the way she gave him all her trust when they were together.
Delighted and no small amount of proud that she was his and only his for all time.
“That was pretty awesome. Come on up here and fuck me,” she said.
He kissed his way back up her body to settle at her side. “You’re slurring your words. You’re tired. Healing from an injury. Sleep. I promise to fulfill your demands once you’re better.”
She backed into his body and he slung an arm over her waist. She was there. Alive. His. Clive planned to do all he could to keep it that way.
Chapter Sixteen
Rowan got up well before sundown and slightly after noon. Her body felt much better than it had when she’d gone to sleep some six hours before. No traces of that gross magic that she’d been tasting.
Just Brigid, the fire of Her protection and anger banked in Rowan’s belly.
She worked out, needing the physical exertion. Wanting to sweat out any remaining nonsense the sorcerer’s bullet might have left behind.
Rowan felt utterly violated. It’d been a long while since she’d had to deal with that. Beaten up, nearly killed, sure. Something getting inside her to do damage like that? Taking away her power to defend herself?
Those feelings awakened had filled her with nausea and a little self doubt.
When she’d left the Keep at sixteen, she made a vow to never be prey again. And here she was.
So she needed to track these shitbags down, end them and feel much better about herself as a result. Really it was a simple exercise in self-esteem.
Her muscles burned and ached by the time she’d finished, but it was a clean burn and her sweat held not even a whiff of anything that didn’t belong there.
Once she’d showered and dressed for the day, she followed her nose to the kitchen where David had just finished meal preparation. He looked her over carefully when she entered but then nodded.
“Good afternoon. I just finished cooking up some stir-fry. Figured you’d need some extra protein after last night. How are you feeling?”
“Better if you made white rice instead of brown.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of your preferences, deesse.”
“It’s one of my favorite things about you.” She shot him a smile.
He harrumphed but still smiled afterward as he dished her up a plate and slid it her way before joining her with his own lunch.
“We’ve established surveillance at both blood clubs and Pru went out herself to search the resid
ences of the sorcerers from last night. She said once she finishes she’d shut the scenes down tight so you can look yourself when you get there.”
“I like it when people know my preferences up front and shape the world to my liking. It’s the perfect thing the morning after a gunshot wound.” She dug in to a mound of chicken and vegetables.
“Genevieve sent a quick text that she had some sort of phone meeting with the Senate this morning to update them with what we know now and that she’d tell you all about it when we met her to prep the pyre,” David told her.
“I need to travel by myself today.”
David started to argue but she shook her head. “No. I mean it. I need to go to the shrine and that’s my gig alone. They’re all scared enough and I don’t want to make it worse by bringing anyone with me.”
“Clive is going to be angry,” David said.
“Whatever. I have a responsibility to those who serve Brigid. They serve me too. They deserve some attention and some reassurance. It’s my job. You and Clive can be pissy all you want, but that will never change.”
As Vessel she had a bond with the acolytes who served Brigid and tended her shrine. They revered Rowan as well as the Goddess. It would also give her the opportunity to visit the shrine herself and commune with Brigid before they set the funeral pyre at sunset.
“I’m sure they’d accept my presence. I can stay in the car.”
“I said what I said.” Also, he was a tiny little kitten compared to what she was capable of in defense of herself and those she was responsible for. She didn’t need his protection, though she did need him at her side in the larger battle. She didn’t say any of that, though, because she probably would have screwed it up and made him feel worse. And she only liked to make people feel bad on purpose.
He sulked a little, probably fighting with himself over whether he should give in to what she’d said or fight her. And still end up giving in to what she said.
Ignoring it, Rowan continued. “I’ll let you know when I’m done and we can arrange to meet. Perhaps Genevieve’s hotel or Die Mitte.” If she chose the latter, it’d be tossing a bone Clive’s way and at relatively little cost to her as it would be daylight and Rowan wouldn’t have to deal with a single Vampire.