by Dannika Dark
First my arms tingled, then my feet.
I jolted when a loud bang went off, and Igor started gasping and choking. His eyes bulged, and blood poured from a hole in his throat onto my neck and chest. I swung my head away and saw Shepherd fast approaching.
With a gun in hand, he nudged Igor off me with his boot.
I stared up at him. “You missed.”
He extended his left hand. “A head shot would have been messy.”
I took his hand, and he hauled me to my feet. “And this isn’t?” I asked, my sweater soaked and my neck and chin drenched in blood.
“You would’ve been picking brains out of your hair for a week. A throat shot is cleaner.”
I grimaced at the thought.
Shepherd caught his breath and straightened his back.
I noticed his fat lip, bloody hands, and swollen eye. “Did you come from inside?”
He holstered his gun and looked around. “Other side of the building. Took out a Shifter. Looks like two Chitahs flashed around the perimeter and clubbed the guards. When the Regulators got wind of what was going down, five ran inside to guard the doors.” Shepherd wiped his lip and looked at the blood on his wrist. “It happened fast, but I think we’ve got it under control.”
“I saw them driving this way when I was leaving. I would have called, but I don’t have my phone.”
When the door behind me clicked, we both turned to look.
Christian was tucking his black shirt into his pants, eyes down. “I thought you’d be gone by now. We have news from Viktor. It looks like the order is to release the officials, and— Jaysus wept!” Christian jerked his head back when he got a good look at Shepherd and me. Then his eyes swung down to the oaf bleeding out in the weeds. “If you wanted a snack, I would have made you a plate in the kitchen.”
I wiped my face on my sleeve and gave him a cocksure grin. “He insulted my truck.”
Christian put his hands on his hips. “I’ll be sure not to be making the same mistake.” His head tilted to the side as he listened to what was going on around the building.
I walked up and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We saved the day.” As I moved inside, I turned to look at the Regulator who’d watched it all go down. “Enjoy the show?”
Before he could answer, I punched him in the jaw. I would have aimed for the eye, but he was too damn tall.
When he tilted his blade, I stepped back.
Christian moved between us. “If you raise that sword any higher, I’ll remove your spleen with my bare hands.”
The man’s eyes grew stony. “You don’t frighten me, Vampire.”
Christian kneed him in the groin, and the man’s eyes bulged. No doubt Christian had put a little extra force in that maneuver, hopefully not enough to prevent the man from fathering children in the future.
Shepherd had taken off, so I hurried down the hall toward the front. “What’s the news?”
“Everyone goes home immediately,” Christian said, matching my pace.
I swayed and hit the wall before straightening myself.
Christian gripped my sweater and stopped me. “You all right?”
And there it was, that look of concern. His onyx eyes weren’t as cold and distant, as if a fire burned in their depths for only me.
“I just feel sick. Gulped down some dark blood, and Igor out there juiced my light.”
I didn’t bother to mention the stab wounds on my back. Since I could breathe fine, none of them had punctured a lung. Two of them were in my shoulder, so I didn’t suspect any major organ damage. My push dagger was only two inches long, anyhow.
“You look better,” I noted, glancing down at his dark jeans and tight-fitting shirt. Christian had a nice shape. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a crooked smile that was making its appearance.
“I like the way you look at me,” he said softly, leaning closer. He even smelled good.
Too good.
I swayed before resuming my pace. “You better get everyone out of here. Apparently, the word’s out that they’re holed up in these churches, and that truck of idiots might be the first of many.”
“Hold up.”
I stopped and wanted to spit out more blood. I could read the blood inside me, and those men had intended to kill everyone inside. Their intent was burning my throat.
No, Raven. Not on the church floor.
“Viktor wants you to take Patrick to pick up his son. I told him you left, but now that you’re here…”
I turned around. “I’d like to drive him off a cliff. What makes you think he won’t kill me?”
“He’d be a fool to try. We have witnesses outside who will testify to you risking your life to protect this church, so if he wants to put a spin on it that you attempted to assassinate him on the way home, no one would believe it. They’d question him, and he’s too smart a man to create an implausible crime.”
I reclined my head and sighed. “Fine.”
“I have to move fast and organize a convoy to get them out.” Christian turned on his heel and stalked down the hall. “Wait in your truck. I’ll send him up.”
Chapter 25
Patrick and I didn’t share a word the entire ride home. He fiddled with his coat sleeve and buttons, and I tried to keep from passing out. The wounds on my back were sore, but drinking from Christian wasn’t something I wanted to do on the regular. To constantly rely on him felt like a weakness, and besides, Vampire blood still made me nervous. It held tremendous power, and I hadn’t learned enough about that power to trust it. Drinking during sex seemed harmless enough, but making it a regular habit wasn’t a wise move.
I distracted myself during the ride with fantasies about plowing the truck into a gas pump or off a cliff. But there weren’t any cliffs in the city, and blowing us up would kill me too. As much as I despised Patrick, I felt like sticking around for a few more years.
Instead of pulling into the garage, I drove through the main gate and circled the front driveway before parking outside the door.
The first thing I planned to do the next morning was wash the blood out of the truck. The second was to get Father Martin to sprinkle holy water across the passenger seat where Patrick had defiled it with his mere presence. I should have made him ride in the back.
Patrick reluctantly waited at the front door for me to get out before he tapped the door knocker.
I lumbered along, my eyelids heavy.
“Ah, Patrick. It is so good to see you.” Viktor should have won an award for how genuinely pleased he sounded considering he now knew about Patrick’s devious past with the boy.
Patrick clapped his shoulder. “It’s been a hell of a week, my friend.”
Viktor scanned me from head to toe as I crossed the threshold. He muttered something in Russian that was likely a swear word. “What is this?”
I glanced down at myself. “O positive.”
Wyatt jogged down the stairs, and his eyes rounded. “Holy Toledo! What happened to you, Bloody Mary?”
I slammed the door behind me. “Can you get me one of your energy drinks? Something with a lot of flavor.”
He gave a dashing smile and shuffled down the hall to the left, his socks swishing against the stone floor.
“Let me fix you a drink,” Viktor offered as he took Patrick’s coat and hung it on a tall coatrack by the window.
“Brandy, if you don’t mind,” Patrick said, but it sounded more like a demand.
While they headed to the study by the stairs, I veered left into the dining room.
Wyatt emerged from the kitchen, his arm extended in the darkness. The dimming embers of the fire in the next room provided just enough light for me to see him but not vice versa.
I held out my hand to take the drink. “I’m here.”
“Kira put out the candles already,” he said, stating the obvious.
Each night, she’d extinguish all the candles in the main rooms and leave one or two burning in the hallways where our bedro
oms were located.
I took a box of matches from a short table on the right and lit a fat candle. The flame was long since the wick hadn’t been trimmed. I moseyed over to one of the booths and set the drink and candle on the table before sitting down.
“Did you get my message?” he asked. “I sent it to Christian, and when I tried calling you again, I heard your phone ringing in the house. Tsk tsk.”
“Christian showed me the picture,” I confirmed. “Hard to make out a face. Can’t you do some computer magic?”
He sat across from me and scooted against the wall so he could put his back to it and rest his foot on the bench. “Just because I can work magic doesn’t mean I’m a magician.”
A wand joke felt appropriate, but I was too tired. After I cracked open my drink, I guzzled it down and slumped in my seat.
“You’re injured,” Niko said as he crossed the room.
“Well, if it isn’t Captain Obvious.” Wyatt chuckled and gestured toward me. “She looks like a Popsicle made for a Vampire.”
I scooted over to let Niko sit. “You think Christian will want a lick?”
Wyatt shuddered. “That’s a therapy session I ain’t got time for. I just hope that’s not the blood of an official.”
Niko sat and tilted his head to look at my back. Not only could he see light, but he was able to identify imperfections. Injuries were apparent to him.
I chugged the rest of my drink, hoping it would restore some of my stolen energy. My core light would replenish in time, but that combined with blood loss had left me battered.
“So Patrick’s here to pick up the kid, huh?” Wyatt shook his head. “That smarmy little buzzard. What did Shepherd say?”
I shrugged. “We went our separate ways back at the church. Besides, there’s nothing we can do. It’s probably better this way.” I pried the top off the can and flicked it across the table. “I’d hate to think Shepherd would do something stupid and snatch the kid. Patrick would declare him an outlaw, and we’d have no choice but to hunt him down. I don’t want to be in that position.”
“Shepherd’s considered his options,” Niko said. “He understands that Patrick keeping the boy is the only way to guarantee the child’s safety. It would be an egregious mistake to abduct him. We live in a small world, and Patrick is an influential man with resources, money, and time.”
“Nothing’s changed,” Wyatt remarked as he removed his hat and twirled it around his finger. “The most dangerous criminals are the ones in power. Even back in my day, men like him kissed enough ass and paid off enough people to control entire towns. Street criminals get locked up, but guys like Patrick get promotions. At least in my day, we could round up a posse of men to shoot them down.”
“Didn’t they end up on wanted posters?” I asked.
Wyatt blew out a breath that flapped his lips together. “Nobody paid attention to those except bankers and bounty hunters. Now we’ve got all these methods to investigate crime scenes and track people down. It makes it harder to pull off something like that and get away with it. So much for vigilante justice.”
Niko folded his arms on the table. “Perhaps it’s not up to us to decide Patrick’s destiny.”
“Yeah, but what about that boy?” Wyatt pointed out. “He’s a good kid. Smart, funny—you’d never know he belonged to Shepherd. Well, except that he doesn’t talk.” Wyatt flipped his hat back onto his head and straightened it. “Maybe Shepherd isn’t fit to raise a child, but Patrick sure as hell isn’t.”
“Keep your voice low,” Niko hissed, admonishing him with his tone. “You forget Patrick is unaware that we’re privy to his crimes. Should that change, it would be dangerous.”
I rubbed my eyes. “That ship has sailed.”
When Niko gave me a questioning look, I tapped my hand on the table to get Wyatt’s attention. “Can you leave us alone? I’ve got a stab wound I want Niko to look at.”
Wyatt shuddered. “I’ll be upstairs, reviewing security footage, if Viktor needs me.” When he cleared the threshold of the door, his voice rang out. “And wash that seat you’re sitting on! People like to eat in here, you know.”
I turned to Niko. “Do you know about the still images that Wyatt sent us?”
His crystalline eyes searched my light. “I’m the one who asked him to send them to you specifically.”
“I thought so. Christian showed them to me on his phone.”
“Wyatt mentioned a tattoo. Is it who I think it is?”
“It’s Cyrus. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
Niko glanced at the doorway before lowering his voice. “Cyrus isn’t just a rogue. He’s a masterful planner—one who strategizes his every move far in advance. But the attacks are too random.”
Please, Niko, be smart enough to put the clues together so I don’t have to say it.
Niko propped his elbow on the table and stroked his lower lip. “Working for Patrick is out of character, and I considered at first he might be trying to obtain information. But Patrick wouldn’t be careless enough to discuss sensitive matters in front of his guards. Why would Patrick hire a man like Cyrus, who has no documentation or references? Unless Patrick is behind the murders,” he said on a breath. Niko glanced at the doorway. “We can’t even utter the accusation. It’s treasonous without evidence.”
“How can we find Cyrus? He always seems to appear wherever you are. If we capture him, we might have enough evidence with Wyatt’s video to have Vampires question him on behalf of the higher authority.”
Niko closed his eyes. “And what else might he confess?”
I hadn’t thought of that. We couldn’t turn in Cyrus if it meant inadvertently implicating Niko in a conspiracy against his Creator. I drummed my fingers on the table. “If Patrick’s behind the murders, he won’t be able to complete his mission with Cyrus out of the picture. God knows why he trusts those men, but why don’t we go after them? We’ll deal with Patrick another time.”
“I’ve spent my entire life evading my Mage brothers,” Niko said. “I’d hoped they would have fallen victim to the ravages of war and time. Cyrus was always a braggart, and that brought him much trouble in his youth. Perhaps he’s curbed his temperament, but I was foolish to think I’d never face my enemies again.”
“I only wish I could face mine,” I said. “Fletcher, in particular. Especially before he goes after those I care about. You’re not a helpless young man anymore, Niko. I’ve never met anyone who can handle a sword like you, see like you, strategize like you. What could you possibly have to fear?”
“Only the end of the world,” he said obliquely. “Lean forward and let me assess your injuries.”
I folded my arms on the table and rested my chin on top of my hand while he reached beneath my sweater. His warm palm grazed my skin, slender fingertips deftly searching the area until they located the beginning and end of each gash.
Instead of lending me his healing light through our palms, he healed me the way he would Wyatt or Shepherd. Light crackled and popped as the skin warmed, and healing energy soaked beneath the surface of my skin.
“Are you ever going to tell Viktor about Cyrus? If they’re the killers, we have to find a way to build a case against them. One way or another, Viktor’s going to find out that you have a history with them.”
“It would seem my options are limited.”
Warm light permeated my skin, and another loud pop sounded.
“Do you miss your old home?” I asked, thinking about how long Niko’s journey to America must have been.
“I’ve had many homes.”
“I meant your first one. Not the house itself, but your first life.”
“Do you miss yours?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted.
“That longing fades with time. My beginnings were a mixture of good and bad memories. My family struggled, and I could do little to contribute.”
“So what’s been the best time of your life?”
He lowered my sweater. “I
don’t know, Raven. Sometimes I wonder if I’m still waiting for it.” He cupped his hands, one inside the other. “Perhaps you shouldn’t waste time comparing one point of your life to the next. It’s a continual path, and there’s no going back. Even if you do go back, the scenery has changed. The past will always beckon you, but do not heed its call. Its embrace is a promise of happiness and comfort, but all it gives you is regret and sorrow.”
“But the past catches up with us.”
“True, and we must keep moving forward down our path. Think of people you’ve known. What becomes of a person who can’t stop looking back?”
I thought of my father. “They drink their sorrows away until they have something to live for again. At least, that’s how it works in my family.”
“You often speak fondly of your father. It sounds like you have rich memories of a good life. Not all perfect, but learn the difference between holding a memory and grasping for it. Your life has only just begun. You have many centuries ahead, filled with things you cannot imagine.”
“Flying cars?”
Niko tossed his head back and laughed. “I hope so, Raven. Then maybe I could cross the street without fear of becoming a pancake.”
Viktor rapped his knuckles on the wall as he entered the room. “Mr. Bane wishes to leave.”
“Don’t let the door hit him in the ass,” I said, sitting up.
“And as he is without transportation or guards…”
“I’m indisposed.”
“Would you rather he stay with us?”
I rubbed my eyes, sensing I was in a losing battle.
“I would advise you to be on your best behavior,” he said tersely.
That was code for: “Don’t stab Mr. Bane in the eye with a pencil.”
“May I go along?” Niko asked. “With the child, we should take extra precautions.”
“Agreed.” Viktor yawned, and I wondered what kept him going. “Use Shepherd’s vehicle. The windows are tinted.”
My shoulders sagged. “You know I hate driving a stick.”
He bowed. “Forgive me. You can take down an army of men, but heaven forbid you have to drive a manual transmission. My deepest apologies. Christian’s motorbike is available.”