Apparently, he was in the mood to confess things, now that they’d gotten him talking. “I accidentally almost killed her and turned her to keep her alive. We were having sex and it was just after I was turned and everything was sharper, all my senses, my needs, and I was so hungry. I turned her to save her life.”
“Without her permission.” Obviously. That much hate didn’t come from a mutual experience.
He chortled, and the sound was heartbreaking. “You know how New Orleans was back then. I didn’t need permission. But I ... I couldn’t let the Conclave have her. There was no telling what they’d do to her. Kill her, make her turn tricks for them, anything.” He let his hands drop. “I drove her to Atlanta and left her in an office building owned by the local Conclave. I knew they’d find her and hopefully help her. It was the only thing I could do for her.”
It was ... not evil. Hardly good, but not evil either. The man had a conscience. Sort of. Who knew? She never would have guessed it. She’d have slapped him more firmly in the sociopath category than anything else, but ... well, he was a mercenary, plain and simple. She’d known those types in her life. The profession had been around for centuries. Soldiers of fortune, mercenaries, legionnaires. Their loyalties could be bought, so there was no trusting them. One walked lightly around them, but she knew some of them had wives, kids, families. This vampire was no exception, apparently.
His life seemed to have been one big pile of steaming shit, and she almost pitied him for it. Except he hadn’t come forward about his brother’s sickness. He’d let people be tortured; he’d let people die. He’d let Bess die. He’d let Darren be tortured with silver. For that, she’d never forgive him.
Delta pushed the door open, a thick sheaf of printouts in her hand. Grim bolted through, shouldering the vampire out of the way. Selina and Delta dove to get a grip on his collar while he went absolutely fucking nuts. There was no other way to describe it. He stood himself up on his hind legs, trying to pull against the collar, snapping his jaws, foaming at the mouth, barking loudly enough to puncture eardrums.
After a few minutes, Delta and Selina wrestled Grim down. “My familiar seems to have a particular dislike for you, Gregor. Have you two met before?”
Grim howled while Gregor winced and looked away. “I saw that dog and another one with the same freaky eyes ... they tried to maul us the night I dragged Isaak’s ass out of New Orleans. I told him not to come back or the Conclave would kill him for doing work off the books.”
“Off the books.” A nice way of saying he’d been a ritualistic serial killer on the side.
She looked between the familiar and the redheaded vampire. The last time she’d seen Grim go this wild, barking at shadows and ready to tear into anything that moved was the night she and Theodore had found him, along with his sister, Boleyn, in the alley outside her apartment in New Orleans. It was only a week after Bess had died, and Selina had taken it as a kind of blessing from her cousin that a familiar had landed in her lap. A companion when her best friend had just been taken.
But ... her thoughts spun. Jack had said she was the one who got away from Isaak. If Gregor, Boleyn, and Grim were the reasons she hadn’t been attacked, that meant that Grim had had a run-in with Isaak before. And if Grim had acted this crazy tonight ... shit, she knew where the killer was. Right now.
Waiting for her.
Peyton and Jack stepped off the elevator just as his cell rang and Selina came charging out of an interrogation room, her phone pressed to her ear. His heart stopped at seeing her again. They’d spent so much time together in the last weeks that the past few hours without her around had seemed strange. But it hit him again that she planned to die, and he clenched his jaw to stop the pain. No. It was not going to happen. He refused. She froze when she caught sight of him, emotions he couldn’t decipher flickering across her face. She closed her phone and put it away. His went silent. “You were calling?”
Her chin bobbed in a rapid nod. “I know who the killer is.”
He blurted out his news, too. “I know how he’s overpowering Magickals.”
“And I think I know where to find him.”
They stared at each other for a moment, absorbing that. Adrenaline pumped through him. They had him. They knew who, how, and where. All the pieces were together. Now they just had to make sure he didn’t slip through their fingers again. Easier said than done.
Peyton waved his hand. “Tell us.”
“Isaak Night, Gregor’s Normal younger brother.” She shook her head, repugnance radiating from her. “They both worked for the New Orleans Conclave, and apparently Isaak felt wronged when he wasn’t turned, too, so Delta’s profile was spot-on. Gregor taught baby brother everything he knew about killing Magickals.”
Like her cousin. She didn’t say it, but it was there in her face, in the flash of pain and vulnerability that she tried so hard to hide.
“He didn’t teach him everything.” Jack had to fist his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. How could he ever let this woman go? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “He somehow got his hands on the last remaining cursed object. We’ve just spent the past few hours going over everything with the leader of the Elven Assembly, who confirmed it for us. They, of course, insist that we recover the object so it can be destroyed.”
“Of course.” She shook her head.
“You said you knew where he was?” Peyton prompted.
Her face paled a bit, but her chin lifted. “I think he’s at my house.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose, but he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. If they hadn’t figured all of this out, if she had gone home. Jesus, he might have lost her. Just that quickly. He swallowed hard. “How did you figure that out?”
“Grim.” The dog barked, trotting up to sit beside her. She stroked his broad skull. “He went ape-shit trying to rip Gregor apart, and the vamp said he’d seen him before in New Orleans, the night he’d forced Isaak to leave town. Grim was acting insane at my house earlier, before I went to track down Gregor. The only other time he’d acted that way ... was that night in New Orleans.”
Jack filled the rest of the thought in. “Grim knows the killer.”
“That’s what I think. Which means ...”
“Isaak is at your house.” He nodded, the knot of rage that had formed in his chest when he’d seen his stepfather expanding, hardening to hate. This motherfucker wanted to steal two of the people who meant the most to him. Over his dead body.
“Yep.” Her smile was faint. “Care to put together a little housewarming party for him?”
He stepped forward and slid his hand through her hair and down to squeeze the nape of her neck. “We’re going to get him this time.”
“Damn right.” For once, she didn’t pull away, didn’t remind him that they were in the workplace. Then again, she thought she was going to die, so why did it matter to her now? His jaw clenched at the thought. He didn’t want her willing because she had nothing to lose. He wanted her willing because she was willing. He had to keep her alive long enough to make that happen.
“I’ll call in all our guys, have the house surrounded.” Peyton pulled out his cell and started dialing. He paused for a moment and eyed them. “I’ll meet you guys there. Grim, why don’t you ride with me?”
Her familiar looked at her, looked at Jack, rolled his eyes, and sighed. She rolled her eyes back. “I’ll be fine. We’ll be right behind you.”
Peyton motioned the familiar forward, and the two disappeared, leaving Selina and Jack alone. He reached over and pushed the button to call the elevator. It was still there, so the doors slid open. “You have your car with you?”
She nodded and just stared at him. There were a million emotions in her gaze, but the worst one was regret. He didn’t want her regret. Not even a little, not even for a second. He hated that that was all she wanted to give him. Was that all this was worth to her? He wanted to shake her, wanted to hit something. This went far beyond the killer they hunted. T
his was about them, and whether she even accepted there was a them.
They stepped into the elevator, and the moment the doors slid shut, she turned to him.
“Jack ...”
His stomach clenched at the misery in her voice. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he’d learned a long time ago that wasn’t a promise he could make anyone.
“I never meant for us to get this involved. It was just supposed to be sex. A last fling to send me off in style.” She gave a breathy, sad laugh. “I never meant for you to get hurt, and I’m so sorry, Jack. I wanted you to be able to walk away and not—”
“Walk away?” He punched the button to bring the elevator to a shuddering stop. “Walk away? Don’t you get it? It’s too late for that. It’s too late for me. I’m already fucking in love with you!” He was shouting in her face, his frustration and grief at the thought of losing her breaking free, and then he had her in his arms, consuming her in a kiss. He hadn’t expected to say those words, hadn’t even known they were there, but damn if they weren’t true.
She shoved her fingers in his hair, knotting them tight and kissing him back with as much violent ardor. His hands curved around her soft ass, and he pulled her up so he could align his sex with hers. She parted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, grinding her pussy against him. They sucked and bit at each other’s lips, and he tasted blood. His or hers, he didn’t know and didn’t care, but the carnality drove him onward. He had to have her. One last time. If she died, if she lived and decided she wanted her isolation more than she wanted him, he had to have her, have this, one last time.
He backed her into the side of the elevator, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Magic our pants off, would you?”
She choked on a laugh, but she blinked and cool air swirled around his legs. They were bared from the waist down. Perfect.
Reaching between them, he grasped his cock and rubbed it against her pussy. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.” She arched her back and worked her damp, swollen lips on his hand and his dick. “Now, Jack. Now. I can’t wait.”
Neither could he.
He guided himself to her slick opening and plunged deep in one swift thrust. She bit his shoulder and made a strangled sound of utter need. Her pussy fisted around his cock, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then and there. She hit him with a wave of pleasure spells, sizzling his nerves with fire and ice, lightning that arced over their limbs.
The rhythm he set for them was punishing, rough. Driving them to the edge of orgasm in moments. He fucked her hard, loving the sounds she made, how she clung to him and clenched her thighs around his hips. He shoved his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, reclaiming her lips.
She moaned into his mouth each time he entered her tight pussy, and he sank his tongue in to twine with hers, to taste her. So sweet, so hot, so uniquely Selina. Her hips rolled against his, and she squeezed her inner muscles around his pounding cock. He groaned, shuddered, knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
He wanted her with him. He gripped her ass tighter and slid inward to work his finger into her anus. She screamed into his mouth, her movements becoming frantic. Lightning flashed in the small elevator, and it danced in a storm over their heads, forks of it striking their flesh. He shuddered, working her with his cock and his finger while she cried out.
“Come now, Selina.” He pulled her tight to the base of his dick and rotated his pelvis against her clit.
She exploded in his arms, and the sizzle of her spell centered right where their bodies joined. He groaned and broke with her, his come jetting into her. When he was spent, all he had was a vague wish that he could have this forever, that it could never, ever end. There was only one way to do that. Change her fate.
“We have to go,” he said, because someone had to.
She stroked her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, tilting her head back to kiss his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. “I know.”
They both groaned when he let her slide down the wall, his still semihard cock pulling out of her. She brushed her mouth over his, then did some kind of spell that cleaned them up and put their clothes back on. He leaned over and pushed the button to resume their downward journey to the parking garage in the basement.
They walked to her car in silence, sliding inside and buckling up. Her hands shook slightly when she put the key in the ignition. “You’re not going to try to stop me from going?”
“No.” He sighed. “I would do the same thing in your place. I wouldn’t let anyone keep me away from this.”
Not after what Isaak Night had done to Darren. Not after what he’d done to Selina’s cousin and so many other people. Nothing could keep him away from this, and he couldn’t be hypocritical enough to demand from her what he wouldn’t give himself.
He glanced at her set expression as she pulled out of the parking spot. “You’re not going to die, you know.”
Shaking her head, she offered him a rueful smile. “Everyone dies.”
“Not on my watch.” Maybe if he said it enough, they’d both believe it. It had to be true. He needed it to be true.
A little laugh spilled from her. “That’s such a Normal thing to say.”
“I’m Normal, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He motioned down at himself as she merged the car into traffic.
“I had, actually.” She sobered, her gaze growing sad. “Don’t set yourself up for failure by trying to stop the inevitable.”
“It’s not inevitable.” He sliced a hand through the air. “The only thing that inevitably kills you is age. Everything else is mutable.”
She shook her head again. “Despite how I look to you, I’m old and I’m tired. Almost four and a half centuries is more than most Magickals get, and way more than any Normal would consider.”
“Don’t be so accepting of this.” He got a stranglehold on his temper and kept his voice level. “I want you to want to live. I want you to fight for it.”
The noise she made was impatient. “I’ve been fighting for four hundred and forty-one years, Jack. What more do you want from me?”
“Fifty more years! That’s what I want from you.”
She blinked, paled, and glued her eyes to the road in front of them. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”
“Coward.”
Her lips trembled and she pressed them together for a moment. “I’m going to die soon, Jack. Stop rubbing my nose in it with things that aren’t possible. It’s cruel.”
“So you do want it, then.” Thank God. He couldn’t be the only one who wanted her to stay alive.
“Leave me alone.” Her voice rose, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“No,” he snapped back. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I think you’ve been alone far too long. I think that’s what makes you so fatalistic and accepting of death. I don’t think you’re tired or bored with life. I think you’ve gone too long with no one else giving a shit if you lived or died. It’s easy to be accepting when you think the only one it affects is you.”
“That is the only one it affects,” she insisted, but the last word broke on a soft sob.
“Not anymore.” He wanted her to believe that, if he could convince her of nothing else.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The desperation in her voice hurt, and he knew she was trying to make this easier, but he didn’t want it to be easier on her. He wanted it to be really hard to leave him.
“It would rip a hole in my heart if I lost you now, Selina.” He laid it out for her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. If he’d done that for Heather, maybe he wouldn’t have lost her so young. Maybe she wouldn’t have given up all hope. He couldn’t bear those doubts with Selina. He didn’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again, so he told her the bald truth. “I need you too much to watch you die before your time.”
A tear streaked down her cheek. “It is my time.”
“Not un
til old age gets you, it isn’t.” He reached over and brushed the moisture away. “You can run from the truth if you want to, honey, but that won’t change it. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I want, it matters that you want to live.”
Her hands strangled the steering wheel, strain drawing the skin taut around her eyes and mouth. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s a start.”
His cell rang before she could respond, and it was Peyton with information on the situation at Selina’s house. He put the blue light on her dash and lit it up. She put her foot on the gas pedal, speeding them toward whatever Fate had in store for them.
16
This was it. The end game. Selina could feel it to her bones.
She tried to calm her racing heart, to focus on something besides this one inevitable moment she’d known was coming for so long.
They had the house surrounded. Her house. They’d scanned it with infrared to see if Isaak’s body heat showed up. Nothing. Any attempts to try magical scans had failed. The evil was too powerful to penetrate. It was near, that much she knew. She could feel that same wave of uneasiness go down her spine as before, when Grim had been snapping at shadows. The cursed object. It disrupted magic, made it flicker like static, pulled at it like a magnet, sent a creeping chill down her spine.
Grim vibrated with disquiet next to her as they worked their way across the lawn, silent as the grave. Peyton was in front of her, Jack just behind her. They lined up against the rear of her house, their backs to the wood siding. Her flak jacket felt bulky and heavy, and sweat slid in sticky rivulets down her neck.
Ready, Grayson? Peyton motioned to her, his staticky telepathic voice in her head, and she nodded. Gathering every last bit of magic she could muster, she’d blast in the back door in three ... two ... one ...
Boom.
The percussive burst made her wince, and Peyton and Grim snarled as it hit their sensitive ears. The werewolf whipped through the door, his weapon leading the way. They filed through the door, covering each other, moving from room to room, searching for the evil Normal.
Night Games Page 27