“Wow, wish someone looked at me that way,” Anya said with a twinge of regret coloring her tone.
As her stomach did a butterfly flutter and heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs, Mari thought of the plans she had for him later. Hot fudge sundae time à la Navar. She had the chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and nuts all ready to go. All she needed was her lover, naked and spread eagle, tied to the bedposts of her bed with red silk scarves. She gave him a wicked grin as she congratulated herself on purchasing her king-sized bed with the birch post frame.
One dark eyebrow rose, a question in his gaze.
“Oh, honey, the man’s in trouble and he knows it.” Anya laughed.
“Yeah, but it’s all good trouble.”
“Hey, can I get some kind of goddamned service over here?” A belligerent bellow from the booths back where the DJ hunched over his sound equipment, getting ready for the night, carried through the crowded room.
Anya sighed, rolling her eyes at Mari. “I really don’t get paid enough for this.”
Mari snorted. “Such is the glamorous life of a Las Vegas cocktail waitress. You knew what you signed up for before you agreed.”
“Yes, Miss Mari, I know my place now.” Anya affected the stooped posture of a tired old woman, a glint of laugher in her eyes.
“Good, then get your butt over there and be quick about it.” She tried to sound stern but ruined it with a laugh and shook her head at the silly banter.
With a mocking salute to Mari, Anya spun on one high-heeled foot and disappeared through the Saturday night crowd. Immersing herself with drink requests, Mari hit her stride, tending the bar with lightning speed. Everything seemed right with the world. Business picked up and, with Navar’s help as bodyguard and fill-in bartender, a sense of security settled over the bar. The days wrapped in his arms and the nights working side by side filled her with contentment. Life couldn’t get much better.
The moment the thought struck, she had the uncomfortable feeling she’d just stuck a red neon sign over her head saying Fuck With Me.
She didn’t have long to wait before fate stood up and took note.
A scream blasted through the crowd in a high piercing pitch filled with terror and agonizing pain, only to be cut abruptly short. She didn’t remember flying over the bar, half-filled glasses shattering after they plummeted to the floor. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest and her throat was dry as ash, but instinct drove her to get to the female in trouble. The crowd nearly trampled her into the ground as they went for the exit like a stampede of panicked animals. Their shouts and screams threatened to deafen Mari. Somehow she kept her feet under her as they jostled her around. Mari pushed forward with all her vampire strength, making headway inch by painful inch.
The copper scent of fresh blood hung in the air and bile rose in her throat. Fear writhed in her belly like snakes, and for a moment she thought she would lose her lunch right there on the dance floor. Suddenly, she found herself clear of the crowd, standing at the back booth, which was empty of all people, and blinking with shocked horror. Her brain tried to process the gory image in front of her.
Her knees nearly buckled as she noted the broken body on the floor, arms and legs splayed in awkward angles, and gods, the blood! It seemed to be everywhere, painting the walls in a crimson arc. It smeared across the booth’s cushions and table and spread in an ever-widening pool around the body and the neck where the head should have been. The torso was split in two, edges from chest to groin cut clean and neat, spilling vital organs in a pile of gore between the two halves.
Oh, goddess above! She recognized the blood-covered cloth still hanging in tatters over the body. Anya!
Her body took that moment to do a quick evac of the contents in her stomach. Her legs giving out, Mari hit the floor on hands and knees, unaware of the blood covering her as she heaved.
Hands held her quaking shoulders as she continued to retch, her body shaking from shock. “Where’s her head? I have to find her head,” she babbled, hysteria rising in a burning lump in her throat.
“We will, akasha. I promise you that I will find out who did this.” Navar’s soothing words did little to calm the clamoring panic holding her in a vise grip.
“We can’t give her a proper burial without her head!” Mari screamed the words, refusing to be comforted while Anya lay butchered on the floor before her. “Who would do this to an innocent? What type of world am I living in where people could do something like this?”
She turned to face Navar, whose grief and concern were etched in the tense lines bracketing his mouth. “What did those bastards do with her head?” Her demand would have held more impact if she hadn’t picked that exact moment to start crying. Great tearing sobs wracked her body. She should have known, should have felt the threat. She had been so wrapped up in Navar that she never saw it coming.
Guilt grabbed hold, viciously tugging at her as she struggled against his hold. “This is my fault. I should have been more aware, known what Anya would be walking into.”
“Look at me,” he demanded, yet she refused to meet his eyes. How could she, knowing she was at fault for Anya’s death? A finger touched her chin, raising her head to meet his steady, determined gaze. “You are not responsible for this. Do not think so. You couldn’t have prevented this. You don’t want to go down that road, akasha. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise. Do you understand me? You. Are. Not. Responsible.”
Saying those words was very different than believing them. She knew only too well it would take her lifetimes to come to terms with this. She gripped onto his arms like a lifeline, her nails sinking in his flesh, afraid that if she lost contact with him, her mind would surely snap from the horror lying behind her. The sheer brutality of the death threatened her sanity.
“I need to look and see if the killer left any clues, akasha. I won’t be far but I want you to stay right here. Don’t look back. Do you understand?”
“No! Please don’t leave me, Navar.” Panic raked sharp talons into her chest, making breathing all but impossible.
“Hush, love, I will be right here. There is no danger now. The killer is long gone. But I must do this.” His burning gaze locked onto hers and she nodded, his calm filling her as surely as if they were already bonded.
Her muscles relaxed enough that she could take a deep breath. Then she wished she hadn’t as the smell of blood overpowered every other scent in the room. Her stomach tried to rebel, but she fought the urge to throw up…again.
He stood, taking his heat and comforting presence with him, and stepped away from her to study what was left of Anya at her back. She gritted her teeth against the overwhelming urge to grab a hold of him and run. Common sense rose to the rescue as she listened to the slow, measured tread of his boots.
Poor child. She hadn’t deserved this kind of death. No one did. She wondered at the type of person who could butcher another living being, and yes, she might have been near death when Navar turned her, but she was hardly dead. Vampires were not walking corpses as the popular myth depicted them, but flesh, blood, and bone beings as alive as a human. A small spark of anger ignited deep within her breast, the flame flaring to a conflagration of searing rage that threatened to swallow her whole.
The monster who'd done this would pay. She swore it to Anya. She would find him and gut him like a fish.
****
Navar’s stomach churned at the carnage. He pushed his reaction deep down and concentrated on the job at hand. He needed to keep his emotions in check or he could miss something vital to finding the animal responsible.
He walked a circle around the body, staying clear of the drying pool of blood on the hardwood floor and noting the sprawl of the body. Narrowing his focus on the arms, he noted the deep lacerations on the forearms and wrists indicative of defensive wounds. She’d obviously tried to ward off the attack by throwing her arms up against the assailant. Analyzing the blood-spattered floor, he noticed the footprints trailin
g through the crimson pool.
They moved away, toward the front door, all except one. He followed that single set of bloody footsteps to the stage where the DJ’s equipment stood unattended. They continued up two steps to the stage and stopped. As if the killer took off his shoes before making a successful escape with the crowed running for the door.
He walked back to the body, making a mental note of the wounds. Having seen so much death, he knew the weapon used was a sword, a very sharp one at that. He moved slowly toward the booth covered in gore, the wall splattered in an arterial spray when the sword severed the head. When he looked down again at the tabletop, a frown pinched his forehead. Stepping closer, he leaned down finding a blood-smeared envelope.
His jaw tightened as he fought to control the surge of anger coming to the surface. Wrestling it back down, he ripped the envelope open, pulled out the single sheet of paper, and read the scrawled script of a maniac.
The dark-haired bitch is next. PS
What in the hell did PS stand for? The killer had marked his next victim, and with the arrogant flare of his signature, Navar damn well knew Mari would be next on the bastard’s list.
Over his dead body.
No fucking way would he allow anything to harm his female. And she was his, as much a part of him as the bone, flesh, and muscle which comprised his physical existence. And his soul was already entwined with hers. Whether she knew it or not, they were one.
“What is it, Navar?” Mari’s voice carried loud in the heavy silence. He felt her approach and he turned to intercept her.
Too late. She’d already swiped the piece of paper from his fingers and read the damning words. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and waves of white hot rage came off her in waves. Her gaze pinned him to the spot, a cold calculating determination glittered in those dark depths. “The son of a bitch is mine.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her stiff body tightly to him. The sting of her nails biting into the flesh of his chest hardly registered as he led her into one of the back rooms. Entering the first open door, he gently placed her at the foot of a bed and knelt in front of her. “You need to let me handle this, Mari. This is what I’m trained for.”
“You can’t fight them all, Navar. There are too many.”
“What are you talking about?”
She held up the blood-smeared letter, her lip lifting up in a sneer. “It’s the Preservation Society. They are behind this.”
They mystery of the PS at the end of the scrawled message was solved. He’s heard about the human movement against all dark breeds, but thought very little about it. In all his countless years of life, he’d fought those who would see his kind destroyed. Different name, same hate-filled rhetoric. Some things never changed.
Her voice held no emotion when she spoke. She could have been reciting a grocery list for all the feeling it showed. “I have to call Marcus. He needs to know about this. And the body…Anya needs proper burial.”
A surge of jealousy arose from the depths of his being, shredding his insides, a raging beast demanding release. To find and kill this Marcus to whom his beloved turned. It is I she should turn to, and no other.
Something must have shown on his face since her brow furrowed.
“There is nothing between us, so get over it,” she snapped. “Marcus is the leader of the Las Vegas enforcers. A little over a month ago, the Preservation Society came in here, killed my bodyguard, and held some of my patrons and me hostage. Two of Marcus’s men were also held captive here and tortured until Marcus showed up with his team and released them.”
Guilt overrode Navar’s protective streak. Another had seen to her safety while he sat idle at the damned sidhe court. “The very idea that you were subjected to such danger and I was not there…Gods damn, I want to tear them apart with my bare hands.” He ended on a savage snarl.
Her small hands cupped his face, the touch cool and so delicate, reminding him of a bird’s wings brushing over him. A deep calm poured into him, erasing the tension in his neck and shoulders before flowing down through his body and easing the anger to only embers.
“You are here now, and for me, that’s all that matters.”
By all the gods, he didn’t deserve such a fine woman of worth, but he would never let go regardless. He would spend the rest of his life working to deserve the love he found shining in those exotic, dark eyes. “Call this Marcus if that is what you wish.”
Chapter Five
Adrian stood by the body in silent contemplation, long blond hair swept back into a tail at the nape of his neck, the silken length hanging to his waist. Mari studied the sidhe enforcer, peacekeeper, and Marcus’s right hand. That was the extent of what she knew about him. Of his kind, the children of the Tuatha de Danann, she knew only a handful of fables.
A fact that made her uneasy.
Standing a few inches taller than Navar’s six-foot-four, he cut an impressive sight. With his perfectly sculpted face, proud straight nose, and full, sensual lips, he looked more like an angel than sidhe. Lean and fit, his body reminded her of a thoroughbred, all long, toned muscle without the bulk. She could see why many women would go for him, yet next to Navar, he paled in comparison. Navar held an aura of raw sensuality and brutal masculinity wrapped in one powerful package. His dark good looks screamed sin.
She pulled her thoughts back to the here and now, wondering what Adrian made of all of it. Damn, she wished Marcus had come. She could read his reactions a hell of a lot better than the cool and calm enforcer in front of her. Unfortunately, Marcus had just left for Atlantis so she would have to make do with Adrian’s help.
“It would seem the victim was overpowered by brute strength. Not easy for a human to do to a vampire. In addition, her wounds are incredibly deep, showing again great strength not many but a breed would have.”
“So what are you saying one of our own did this?” Navar snapped, his eyes narrowed on the man and his body rigid with tension, aggression pouring off him in waves.
Adrian spared him a quick glare before continuing. “I am only stating the facts as they are before me. You are the ones who asked for help. I’m merely offering it to you.”
“So in your opinion this couldn’t have been done by a human?” Mari cut in, heading off a testosterone-fuelled scene.
Adrian turned his golden stare on Mari, pointedly ignoring Navar. “I would not rule them out entirely, though it would be highly improbable. There are a few human males who have the strength for this kind of damage. But it takes many years of intense training with a sword to accomplish it. Another thing I find odd is the message left. Signing it PS would naturally lead one to believe the Preservation Society the authors of this mayhem. From my experience, this is not the usual way they work. They are much more apt to take the credit and not single out one breed when they can kill many.”
“I don’t like this, especially since they seem to have Mari in their sights.” Navar’s voice rumbled with a low growl.
One blond brow rose as the enforcer seemed to contemplate Navar with cool calculation. “Indeed, this seems to be the case, and I would suggest closing The Asp.” He lifted a hand to cut off Mari’s protests. “Only until the culprit is found and the danger to you is removed.”
Mari folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes on the two men, irritation rising at the thought of the lost income and worse, the idea she would allow anyone to make her run and cower. Well, fuck that. She’d never run from anything in her life, and she wouldn’t start now.
“Not an option. I refuse to close The Aspand that’s final.”
Those blond brows dipped low, almost touching his perfectly straight nose, and she could hear Navar’s low curse. Well, too damn bad. This is my business and I’ll run it as I see fit.
“Bad move, if you wish to survive. You need to disappear while I find out who wants you dead,” Adrian said.
“We. Until we find out who it is. I am far from helpless in protecting my woman, and hunting k
illers is what I do,” Navar corrected, his pale stare unwavering in its resolve as he pinned the sidhe with a glare.
“You are a hunter, yes? You are familiar to me. Have we met before?”
“Until recently I was the royal hunter for the sidhe queen.”
Adrian nodded in recognition, a new respect shimmering in those golden, otherworldly eyes. “Ah, very well then, I apologize for the slight. I did not know the queen had released you. Not an easy feat when she sets her mind to keeping her retainers. Mari is in very good hands indeed. Your reputation precedes you. Even on this side of the veil, you have been a topic of much conversation.”
“I will do everything in my power to protect her, even lay down my life if it comes to that.” Navar’s words rang in the still air, spoken as an oath.
“Marcus will be relieved to find out Mari is well protected. I know, after the incident with the Preservation Society, he has been concerned for her safety. Someday you must tell me how you secured your release.”
Mari blinked at the two men, feeling left out of the loop in the XY-chromosome chat. Males. Can't live without them and can’t kill them. Irritation spiked into the red zone, her patience threadbare for the bullshit. Placing her diminutive self between the two towering males, she gave them both a fearless glare and fisted her hands on her hips.
All conversation stopped as they stared down at her with surprise. Good, now she had their attention. “I’ve been alive since the time of Cleopatra. I didn’t survive all those centuries by being a fucking weak female. I can fight, strategize, and I damn well have enough intellect in this ‘girly’ brain to figure out what I need to do to save my own hide, thank you very much. Now, if you don’t mind talking to me, not about me, it would be appreciated and might save your ball sacs from relocating somewhere north on your body. Are we clear, boys?”
Dark Hunter Page 4