by Laura Kaye
“Maybe.”
“I was perhaps a little disappointed that you’d only come to me because you have a problem. You do have a problem, don’t you, Tara?”
“Oh, God! It’s Chloe. Christian, you have to help us. She’s—”
“Tara, slow down and sit down.” Instead of leading her to the chair by the desk, he took her hand and led her to the black leather sofa. He pushed her gently down. “There,” he said, taking the seat next to her. “Tell me.”
Tara took a deep breath, tried to sort out the facts. “You remember my friend Chloe? You met her that night at my apartment.”
“Of course.”
“Well, she’s disappeared. She hasn’t been home, and she’s not answering her cell phone. Nothing.”
“When did you last see her?”
“That night when we left for Yorkshire.”
He frowned. “Does anyone else know about this?”
“Yes, Jamie. He was supposed to see her the night we came back, but she didn’t turn up. He’s been everywhere he can think of, spoken to anybody who might know or have seen her, and it’s as if she’s vanished.”
Christian leaned back on the sofa, his head resting on the cushions, and stared into space.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that it’s unlikely your friend’s disappearance is anything to do with the other things going on in your life right now. But I don’t like coincidences and the timing is…suspicious.” He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “Piers?”
Tara listened while he explained what had happened and finished with, “Can you find out if there was anything going on around there four nights ago?”
He put the phone down and turned to her. “He’ll get right back to me. We’ll wait, see if he comes up with anything, then decide our next move.”
“Thank you.”
His long legs stretched out in front of him. Without thought, Tara laid her palm on his thigh. The muscle tensed beneath her fingers, and his hand came down and rested on hers.
“I’d hoped you would come to me because you couldn’t stay away.” He picked up her hand and rubbed his fingers along the sensitive skin of her palm. “Each night I’ve awoken and fought the urge to come to you. Claim you. Force you to accept what you are and what we could have.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, stroked his velvet tongue along each one until tremors ran through her body. “Each night I stayed away by telling myself you needed time.” He sucked one finger deep into his mouth, and Tara moaned with desire. He bit down with his teeth and heat flashed through her. She sat immobile, melting as he placed her hand back on his thigh, pressing it down with his palm.
“I wanted to come to you,” she said. “In fact, I never wanted you to go in the first place.”
“I believe you want me, but I also think that you’re far from happy about that. You’d still prefer me to be a nice, normal person.” There was a definite sneer in his voice when he spoke the word “normal.” “You still can’t accept what I am.”
“Yes. No.” She frowned. “Maybe. I have accepted what you are. It’s me I have the problem with. But I’m trying.” Flickers of anger stirred within her. “Is it so difficult to understand? Having demon blood has taken away everything I thought I wanted. I have to come to terms with that, but I’m working on it, okay?”
“How are you working on it?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Every day, I stand in front of the mirror and chant, ‘I am a demon,’ fifty times. I am a demon,” she added for good measure. “There you see, I’ve been practicing, and now I can say it without hysterics.”
“Very impressive.
“Well,” she said. “If you liked that one, how about this—‘my lover is a vampire.’”
She watched him as she spoke the words. Flames leapt in his eyes and he reached for her, pulling her onto his lap and burrowing his head in her neck. His mouth was at her throat, fangs scraping across her flesh. He didn’t bite.
“Am I your lover?” he murmured against her skin.
Her body tightened in anticipation, and she realized she wanted him to bite her, wanted to feel him inside her. Deep inside.
“I hope so,” she replied. She wriggled around until her knees rested on either side of his hips and her breasts brushed against his broad chest. Raising her head, she offered her throat to his hungry gaze.
He pressed his finger over her pulse point, and the blood throbbed in her veins.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I taste you one more time, and I’ll not let you go.”
For a moment, she hesitated—was this what she really wanted? Staring into that lean predatory face so close to hers she saw the hunger clear in his silver eyes, and knew she was past the point of having a choice. “That sounds good to me,” she murmured and kissed him.
He kissed her back, his lips moving down the line of her jaw. One large hand slipped around the back of her neck, tipping her head to give him access to her throat. He pulled her closer and she went willingly, trusting him implicitly. Her breasts tightened in anticipation, and a pulse throbbed between her thighs. “Please, Christian.”
He kissed her skin softly. His mouth opened, he swiped his tongue over her, steadied her with his hand on her head, and his fangs sank into her throat.
This time she had no urge to fight him. Eyes closed, she gave herself over to the rhythmic tugging that pulled at places deep within her body.
As she relaxed against him, his hands settled on the curve of her bottom. His fingers stroked through the denim of her jeans, then moved to her hips and pulled her down harder into his lap. The hard length of his erection pressed against her core, and she rocked on him, reveling in the sensations that washed through her.
After long minutes, Christian stopped drinking. He licked at her throat, and then sat back, pulling her with him. She snuggled into his body and felt him relax beneath her.
They lay entwined, until the purr of the phone jolted her upright.
“Piers.”
Christian listened. After a minute, he replaced the phone. “Piers has heard nothing.”
“That’s good news isn’t it?”
“Probably.” He sighed. “I’d love to carry you downstairs, take you to bed, and make love to you all night long, but I think we should go make a visit to your place to see if we can find out anything about your friend.”
Tara sat up. “You think something bad has happened?”
“I don’t know, but it seems odd that she should disappear at that particular time.”
A wave of foreboding welled up inside her, and she forced herself to ask, “You think it’s something to do with me, don’t you? This is my fault.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. We know someone is hunting you, but if they know where you live, why not take you? Why turn up when you’re not around and take your friend?” He stroked her hair. “Maybe she left for a while, forgot to mention it.”
Tara bit her lip. She was starting to feel very bad about this. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“No, not really.”
“So, what do we do?”
“I’ll see if I can’t pick up any trace of anything unusual at your place. If we do, maybe we can borrow a couple of Piers’s hellhounds. Try and track her.”
“Hellhounds?”
“They’re the best creature for tracking. The Order keeps a pack, but hopefully we won’t need them.”
As Tara scrambled off his lap, he made no attempt to hold her. She sank in the corner of the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest and worrying her lower lip. She tried to give herself the courage to ask the question that had been haunting her since her return from Yorkshire.
“Why did my mother go to so much trouble to hide me? Who wants to find me? And why? What do they want me for?”
“I don’t know. I think our best lead will be finding the warlock who made your talisman. He may be able to identify your mother.”
“Your old girlfriend was looking into it wasn’t she? Have you heard anything?”
He shook his head. “I’ll get Piers to sort it out. Chase up Ella. Now, let’s go see if we can find your friend.”
“Okay, but maybe I’ll give Jamie a call first. Make sure he hasn’t found anything new.”
Jamie didn’t answer so she put the phone back in her bag.
“You can try again later. Come on.”
Five minutes later, she sat beside Christian in the black four-wheel drive in the underground garage. He reached forward to turn on the ignition when his cell phone rang.
He flipped it open. “Piers?”
He listened for a moment, a frown forming on his face.
“I’m just leaving,” he said. “I’ll wait ten minutes—give your guys time to get here. Tell them to make sure nothing follows us, and let me know how it goes.” He disconnected and spoke to Tara. “They’re picking up demon activity again, lots of it.”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
A shudder ran through her as she remembered the last time. “Are they coming after you?” He was silent for a moment, and Tara started to feel distinctly nervous. “What is it? What are you thinking?”
He appeared to come to a decision. “Actually, I think they may be coming after you.”
“What?”
“We know there have been demons watching this place, but they’ve been discreet, never staying long enough to get picked up and only one at a time, like they didn’t want to be noticed. The only times they’ve appeared in numbers is when you’re here.”
A ripple of unease ran through her. She’d tried to tell herself that as long as she wore the talisman she would be safe, hidden. That the people hunting for her wouldn’t find her. Unfortunately, it seemed like they already had.
“How would they have found me?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe you were picked up by one of the demons watching this place.”
“How would they recognize me?”
“Perhaps the people in Yorkshire weren’t quite as silent on the subject as they made out. If they were offered enough money, one of them might have talked.”
“I just wish I knew why they wanted me.”
Christian put his hand on her arm. “Whatever the reason, I won’t let them get you.”
She believed he would do his best to protect her, but he couldn’t be there all the time. What kind of existence could she have always looking over her shoulder wondering when they might catch up? And then what?
She tried to keep the fear from spilling into her eyes, but Christian must have seen, because he pulled her to him and held her tight against the hard strength of his body. “We’ll find out and we’ll stop it. Whatever it takes.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Do we have to worry about these demons?” Tara asked as they drove out of the building.
“Piers will have people out there by now. He’s kept agents close since we found out that they’re targeting me. They’ll stop any demons from coming after us.” He put a hand on her thigh, squeezed. “I told you I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t want you to have to take care of me. I’m never going to be normal—I’ve accepted that, but it doesn’t mean I’ve resigned myself to hiding for the rest of my life.” Something occurred to her. “Just how long will my life be? Presuming, that is, that I don’t come to a messy end in the next five minutes.”
“Have a little faith,” he murmured.
“You said demons don’t die. Will I?”
“I think it’s unlikely.”
“So, I’m what, like some sort of immortal being?”
“Probably.”
She frowned. “How will I know?”
“You won’t die.”
“Right,” she snapped. “So I’ll just wait around and see, shall I?”
She looked out of the side window. The tinted glass made her feel a little better, knowing nothing could see her, but there appeared nothing strange going on. No gunfire, no screams, and soon they were away from the building and driving through the evening traffic toward Hampstead.
She pulled her mobile out of her bag and tried Jamie again. There was still no answer.
Tara couldn’t seem to rid herself of the feeling of dread as they pulled up in front of her apartment building. She didn’t know what would be better—for Christian to find something, or for there to be no trace of anything bad. Where would they go next if they found no trace of Chloe here?
“Can we go look at your friend’s apartment first?” Christian asked as she let them into the building.
“I don’t have keys,” she said.
“It’s not a problem.”
Tara led the way to Chloe’s apartment. She rang the bell in case Chloe had returned but wasn’t surprised when there was no answer. Christian examined the lock for a moment. He put his hand against it and pressed. It took no apparent effort, and the lock broke with a sharp crack. He pushed and the door swung open.
Chloe’s bag lay on a small table in the hall. Tara picked it up with trembling fingers. Chloe would never go anywhere without it. She peered inside. Everything was there, Chloe’s purse, her cell phone. Tara put the bag back while Christian opened all the doors that led from the hallway, peered in the rooms.
After a few minutes, he returned. “There’s no sign of anything here. Let’s try your place.”
As he pulled the door closed behind them, Tara pointed to the shattered lock.
“Should we leave it like this?” she asked.
Christian shot her a surprised glance, and considering all that was going on, a broken lock did seem a little low down on the priority list. “I’ll send someone over to fix it,” he said.
Tara led them upstairs and unlocked the door to her apartment.
“Why don’t you go pack a bag,” Christian said, “while I take a look around.”
“Why do I need to pack a bag?”
He turned to her, and she saw the grim resolution in his face. “You are not staying here.”
“Where am I supposed to stay?”
“With me. Now go pack a bag. This is not negotiable.”
“I can’t go. I have to look after Smokey.”
“Take the damn cat with you, whatever, but you are not staying here.”
Tara thought about arguing for all of about ten seconds. Then the fight oozed out of her, and she realized how afraid she’d been at the thought of coming back here, staying alone. The certainty had been growing in her since she’d seen Chloe’s bag in her apartment. Something had taken Chloe while she’d been here feeding Smokey.
Her mind flashed back to those things that had attacked her in the alley. Had something similar taken Chloe? Piers’s words echoed in her head, They’ll play with you and then eat you.
Chloe had been gone for four days. If the demons had taken her, maybe Tara should be hoping her friend was already dead.
A wave of nausea washed over her. Running for the bathroom, she slammed the door, fell to her knees, and threw up in the toilet. Her stomach was almost empty, but she wretched and wretched until nothing remained.
After flushing, she stood shakily and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Nothing had changed; she looked the same as always. She poured a glass of water and drank it, then brushed her teeth.
Anything to put off going outside and facing Christian.
She was terrified of what he’d discover about her friend. Her skin was clammy, her knees weak and she sank down onto the edge of the bath. Her head ached and she pressed her fingers to her eyes to relieve the pressure.
Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe the demons would use Chloe as a hostage and wouldn’t actually hurt her. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet.
Christian lounged against the doorway into the kitchen. He straightened as he saw her emerge and gestured into the kitchen. She went through and found he had made
her coffee. Sinking into a chair, she cupped the hot mug in her hands.
“Tell me,” she said.
“You haven’t taken off the talisman here?”
She shook her head.
“Then I’m pretty sure demons have her. I can sense their presence, faint, but it’s here.”
A shaft of pain stabbed her. She bit her lip, not trusting herself to speak until she was under control.
“Why would they take her?”
“Maybe they came for you and found her instead. She may still be alive, Tara. If they’ve taken her to get to you, they might not harm her too much.”
“So they might be willing to do a swap. Me for her?”
Christian’s face closed up. “That is not an option.”
“I think that’s for me to decide.”
“We’ll find her, and if she’s still alive we’ll get her back. I’ll call Piers and see if we can get the trackers on to this right away.”
Tara needed to do something; she couldn’t face sitting around thinking about what Chloe might be going through—she wouldn’t allow Christian to shut her somewhere safe while he hunted.
Christian was speaking softly on the phone. He glanced at her, then turned away and lowered his voice. Tara tried to tell herself that it wasn’t more bad news, but couldn’t rid herself of the dread lodged in her middle.
She sipped her drink to get rid of the bad taste in her mouth, but the coffee made her sick, and she put it down. Her bag needed to be packed and she had to find Smokey. There’d been no sign of him since they’d arrived, and she couldn’t bear to leave him here alone.
Christian made no move to stop her as she left the kitchen. Smokey was nowhere to be found, and in the end, Tara gave up and went into the bedroom. She remembered the last time she’d packed this same bag. Chloe had been next to her, joking and full of life, and finally the tears spilled over. Tara sank onto the bed and sobbed. When she stopped, she found Christian regarding her from the open doorway. He had his blank face on, and the fear inside her spiraled out of control.
“We have to go to the Order.”
“I haven’t finished packing.”
“Leave it. We’ll sort it out later.”
“And Smokey’s not here. I have to find him.”