Getting off early had been a nice thought, but after being seen by a paramedic who had cleaned the cut on his left cheek and had used Steri-Strips to seal the opening, he’d returned to the Area North offices to make out a report rather than going to the ER as suggested. Loved that paperwork. The cut ragged him like a bitch. He’d taken a couple of NSAIDs, but they’d barely distracted him from the hurt. He’d hoped to talk to Isabeau in private, to question her about exactly what she was and what she could do and why she was working as a detective, but the mayor sent over her chief of staff to offer her appreciation for how he and Isabeau had saved the day. And saved her life, of course.
Nothing had gone his way.
But finally, after dark, questions about Isabeau unasked—calls and texts on his cell from Nuala unanswered—he’d been free to go.
Now he was at his mother’s home, standing at the front door, able to hear her heart-wrenching sobs. Rather than ringing the bell, he used his key to let himself in.
“Hey, Mom, it’s me,” he said, heading straight for the kitchen.
He found her sitting at the table, a folder spread out before her, weeping over the contents. Sliding into the chair closest to her, he took one of her hands in his. She used her free hand to swipe at her tears, to force a smile onto her face.
“Sorry, I’m just having… a moment.”
Ethan wondered how many moments like this she still had. He looked at the papers spilling out of the folder. Some were typed, some handwritten. He recognized Mike’s handwriting.
“Hey, what do you have there?”
“Mike’s notes for potential stories for the high school newspaper.”
His brother had wanted to be an investigative reporter. But what the heck could he investigate in his high school?
“Where did you get them? I don’t remember this folder being in his room when his case was put together.”
“It wasn’t.” She pulled her hand free of his and started straightening the sheets. “The following summer, the faculty advisor for the newspaper was cleaning out the files and came across this.” Then she set the stack back in the folder and closed it. “She would normally throw out old work, but considering the circumstances, she thought I might like to have Mike’s notes. Of course I said yes.”
“You never told me about this.”
“I never even went through the folder after she gave it to me. I stored it away for the day I could deal with the grief. Plus, you were in school and not in a good place, and I was going through the divorce and all. And then I guess I kind of forgot about it. Until today. My boy’s been dead for ten years and his killer is still free.”
The sheer sadness in her expression made Ethan choke on the guilt. When he’d realized Ario Jackson hadn’t killed his brother, he’d promised Mom he would find the who and the why of Mike’s death. He’d promised himself.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I thought I would have the answers by now.”
“You’ll get them.” Now she was patting his hand. “I have faith in you, sweetheart.”
His chest squeezed tight, but he smiled anyway.
And then her eyes widened and she gasped. “Your face! How did you get hurt? How bad is it?”
“Don’t worry. It’s no big thing. I just got into a scuffle with a suspect.”
She cupped his chin and turned it to take a closer look. “Did you see a doctor?”
“A paramedic fixed me up and gave me an all clear. I didn’t even need stitches.” Not exactly the truth. The Steri-Strips were in place of stitches.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he lied. The NSAIDs had taken off the edge, but the damn thing still bothered him. Wanting to take her mind off anything negative, he asked, “Have you had dinner yet?”
She shook her head.
Considering how upset she was, he wasn’t surprised. “I could order a pizza.” Though he had no appetite, either.
“If you’re hungry, I can make you something.”
“Yeah, sure. We could have a little something together.” If that would get her to eat with him, he would force himself.
“I made some soup yesterday. Maybe I’ll just warm that up.”
“Sounds perfect.” When she rose to go to the refrigerator, he glanced back at the folder on the table. “Hey, Mom, can I take a look at Mike’s stuff?”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”
As she pulled a pot from the fridge and carried it to the stove, Ethan stiffened when he became aware of Nuala trying to get his attention. She was calling to him, not in so many words, but he felt her trying to mess with his mind. He shut her out. She’d called and texted since Haider’s attack. He hadn’t been able to talk to her about it at work, and he sure couldn’t talk to her now. His mother was stressed enough. He would check in with Nuala as soon as he was done here and alone.
The folder sat in front of him. Mike’s ideas for stories. A personal reminder of his little brother on this horrible day. Opening it, he flicked his gaze over the first few pages. When Humboldt Lords jumped out at him, he froze for a second.
Then he began to read…
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t know where Ethan is, Maeve, and he won’t answer me,” Nuala said, trying to stay calm as she walked the length of her apartment, nursing her daughter as she moved. “I’ve tried every way I know how. Maybe we’re going to have to go looking for him.”
She was actually thinking about leaving the baby in the sling pressed to her body and going in search of the man. Not that she could drive like that. But she could think herself there… if only she knew where there was.
At odds all day because she hadn’t been able to get hold of Ethan to be sure he was all right, a sense of doom filled her, reminding her of the day she’d learned Shade had been shot. Now she had Ethan to worry about. She stopped in front of the bay windows and stared into the dark, willing the man she apparently had feelings for despite herself to appear. She hugged the baby closer.
How had this happened? How had she gone from despising the man who hadn’t been able to save his partner to this… whatever this was? Two kisses did not a relationship make. That was obvious. He didn’t even feel it necessary to assure her he was all right. What if something more had happened after the televised incident? What if he couldn’t get back to her?
What if…
No, she wasn’t going to go there. Ethan was simply being his most irritating self—he was very good at that where she was concerned. He undoubtedly got some sort of satisfaction in letting her worry.
Realizing Maeve had stopped nursing and had fallen asleep, Nuala sighed and moved away from the window to take the baby back to her crib. Then she stood there, staring down at the little miracle who’d changed her forever. She’d lived nearly three decades accepting whatever plans Pop had for her. She might have questioned the way they lived, the way the Kindred got pleasure in corrupting humans, but she’d never stepped away from the life. She didn’t want that for her daughter. Or for herself anymore.
Thinking she would make a different life for them both, she became aware of a nagging sensation. For a moment she thought she imagined hearing Ethan.
I’m here, Nuala. Let me in.
She’d never heard Ethan’s thoughts before, but Skye had said he could hear her because of the blood connection, so why not the other way around?
A moment later, meaning to give him a tongue-lashing for ignoring her all day, for not letting her know he was all right, she opened the front door. One look at him changed her mind. There was something desperate about the way he stood, shoulders caved, about his expression that told her something else had indeed happened. But he appeared whole, physically unharmed, other than the cut he’d gotten earlier. She threw her arms around him. He held her so close she grew alarmed.
“Come inside and let me get the door.”
Nodding, he moved into the living room and threw himself on the sofa. He appeared exhausted, out of it, as if
beaten down by the day’s events.
Locking the door, Nuala moved into the living room and as she sat next to him, her leg pressed against his. Snaking her hand over his, she asked, “What happened? Tell me everything.”
“Apparently you know what happened at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. I’m sorry I couldn’t call you and explain.”
“Why couldn’t you at least answer a text?”
“There was too much to tell. And I couldn’t call until I was alone. You get that Haider arranged that incident, right?”
She nodded. “Using his influence.”
“If he’d succeeded, Alec Peterson would be the new mayor.”
Remembering Nik had told her about the connection between Peterson and Haider, she murmured, “A murderer running this city.”
“There’s more.”
Ethan told her about his brother having been killed ten years ago today, how he went to his mother’s to make sure she wasn’t alone, how she’d had a file of Mike’s notes about stories he was working on for the school newspaper. Instinctively, she knew this was what had knocked the stuffing out of him. Dealing with criminals was his job. His brother’s murderer getting away with his crime was his personal hell.
“So there was something in Mike’s notes that got to you?” she asked.
“He was working on a story about the violence that made the school unsafe for non-gang members. About the war between the Humboldt Lords and Insane Brotherhood. There were notes about Alec Peterson, who is now the city’s vice mayor. About his association with one of the Lords. About his using gang violence as his platform when he ran for class president.”
Nuala gasped. “Then Mike—”
“Would have presented an obstruction to Peterson’s plans if he finished the article and it was published. You understand the notes were scattered. Nothing definitive. So if someone looked at them without an understanding of Peterson’s character, it’s not likely they would have come to the conclusion I did.”
“That Peterson killed Mike?”
“That Peterson killed Mike,” Ethan agreed. “Or had someone do it for him. His MO.”
“So you did it! You finally have your brother’s murderer.”
“I have the who and why, yes. I have no proof. No witness. No confession.”
“You’ll get him on Booker’s murder.”
“And Diablo’s and Madera’s.” Ethan shook his head. “Who knows how many other deaths he orchestrated. I don’t know how yet, especially with a Kindred involved, but I’m going to get that psychopath if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
His words sent a chill through her. “Don’t say that. It’s not going to be the last thing. The next thing, maybe, but not the last.” She moved closer and softly traced her fingers along his wounded cheek, making him turn to meet her gaze. “I can’t lose you, too.”
His expression was intense when he said, “I didn’t know you had me to lose.”
“Don’t I?”
“I didn’t know you wanted me.”
She inched closer to him and whispered, “Liar.”
He slid a hand around her back and wherever he touched her, nerve endings came alive. When her breasts settled against his chest, the sensation spread straight down through her middle to her sweet spot. When his mouth found hers, she sensed his need. He’d come to her in a state of mind that let her see his vulnerability. Needing to let him know it was okay, that she was there for him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in return. She shifted over him, straddling him, sinking down, her thighs pressing against his so his erection stroked her belly.
With a moan, he pushed her from him. “Slow down. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“Regret?” And then the sudden memory of Shade made her scramble off him.
Before either of them could say another word, a voice boomed inside her head.
Looks like I got here just in time to be entertained.
She flipped around and saw him in the darkened depths of the dining room. “Haider! What the hell do you think you’re doing, coming to my home uninvited?”
“My cameras with digital recorders picked up your visit to my place. You ruined my plans to gain power over your father.”
“Good!”
“I needed another way to get to him. So I came for you.”
“What the hell!” Ethan yelled, getting to his feet.
Before he could take more than a step toward the dining room, Haider whipped out his hand and Ethan went flying into a wall, dropping to the floor unmoving.
“Ethan!” A horrified Nuala scrambled to check on him, made sure he was still breathing, then turned her fury on Haider.
Concentrating all her spellbinding energy on him the way Pop had taught her, she used an incantation to box in the bastard, creating invisible walls surrounding him so closely that he wouldn’t be able to move. Before she could try to revive Ethan, Haider simply laughed, muttered something under his breath and drove a hand through the veiled barrier in front of him.
Stepping out of her spell-cast prison, he said, “Nice trick.”
Damn it to hell! She was going to have to summon Pop, Nik, or Luc to help neutralize him, though how without his knowing?
“You actually think your calling for help is going to work?”
That he’d so easily read her thoughts wasn’t good! “What is it you want?”
“I need a pawn of value to make Cezar listen to reason.”
Nuala was certain he didn’t want reason. He wanted unlimited power. Undoubtedly he thought he could take Pop if he got him away from his clan. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Get out now, before it’s too late.”
Haider laughed. “Too late for whom?”
Behind her, Ethan groaned. He was coming to. She gave him one quick look—no damage that she could see—and when she looked back to the dining room, it was empty.
“Haider?” she called warily, knowing he wouldn’t give up so easily.
Maeve’s frightened cry wrenched her gut and her chest squeezed tight.
“Haider!” she yelled.
Then he was standing before her, her screaming baby tucked under one arm with no more care than for some inanimate possession.
“Give her to me!” Nuala demanded even though he would do as he wished.
Ethan was getting to his feet, his focus on Haider, though there was nothing he could do against a powerful Kindred. He could be killed and so could her daughter. She had to do something to protect him.
“Come with me willingly,” Haider told her, “or you’ll never see your child again.”
“Fine!” Trying to assure his focus was on her, not on Ethan, she said, “But when Pop and Nik and Luc find you, they’ll make you regret—”
Throwing back his head, Haider laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Nuala!” Ethan yelled as Haider, Nuala, and Maeve blinked out of the apartment before he could do anything to stop the lion shifter.
Damn it! What could he do now?
Hearing footsteps overhead, he realized Skye was home. Flying into the vestibule, he hit the buzzer on the intercom, and when she answered, he said, “Haider took Nuala and Maeve, and I couldn’t stop him.”
Skye buzzed him up immediately. He ran upstairs thinking he could hear Nuala calling to him. His gut wrenched with his panic to save her and Maeve. The door opened and he practically fell inside. He was out of breath, not because of the stairs, but from the overwhelming situation. How the hell could a human fight a Kindred?
Boomer greeted him with a sharp bark. He patted the dog to keep him quiet, asking Skye “What do we do?”
“We call Luc.” Skye tried that and had to leave a message when he didn’t answer.
While Ethan’s mind raced. “This bastard is so powerful, I don’t even know that Luc can handle him.”
“He’ll get Nik—”
“Maybe too late. We have to do something now.”
“What do you think you
can do against a Kindred?” she asked.
Yeah, he’d already come up blank with that one. “Maybe your book can tell us.”
“It’s in the office.”
He followed her inside and saw the large volume set on a table. She sat before it and the book moved closer as if recognizing her. The leather cover was worn, but Ethan made out The Book of Powers in gold lettering before she turned back the cover. From what Skye had explained when they’d been trying to nail Shade’s killer, Skye was a descendent of the Powers, making her something else other than strictly human—the reason she’d always been able to communicate with animals. The reason she’d been able to hear the thoughts of the shifters. Apparently, she had other abilities, as well, though Ethan hadn’t really wanted to know what exactly.
Now he did.
He swore the dog-eared book knew what she wanted. It felt alive. The air hummed around it. Pages seemed to flip before she could even turn them. Her three cats came around to see what was happening. One sat on the table on the other side of the book, trying to paw the turning pages. Skye gave the cat a pat and then shooed it away and continued her search. Ethan noted passages in Gaelic that had been translated, while others in English had been commented on in the margins by several hands.
Finally, she stopped and met his gaze. “Here it is. Information on the blood connection. You already have that through Nuala’s blood.”
She ran her finger down the page and then the next, scanning the contents until she found something of interest. She tapped it and stopped to read.
Ethan read, as well.
Humans have no natural defense against Kindred, but they can build one by taking the blood connection to the next level. A blood tattoo can let a human work against Kindred influence.
“That’s it?” he asked, disappointed there wasn’t more. “A blood tattoo? What kind of blood? What kind of tattoo?”
“I don’t know anything more about it.” Skye checked the next page and shook her head. “Maybe Luc does.”
“He hasn’t called back.”
“I’ll text him.”
An impatient Ethan couldn’t wait for an answer. “Text me when you hear from him. I’ve got to go.”
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