“Don’t you have somewhere else you could be?” she asked him in a withering voice.
Ian’s smile just broadened. “Certainly. Pull up your skirt, and I’ll show you.”
“That’s it!” I shrieked, lunging at Ian even as Rodney upended his chair and came after him as well. We both were so blinded by fury; all Ian had to do was slide back to watch us clang into each other instead of him.
“Ian, enough,” Spade snapped, stepping between me and Rodney when both of us leapt to our feet for another try. “Cat, Rodney—Ian’s finished now. Isn’t he?”
Spade glared at Ian, who just lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
“For now.”
I was trapped indoors with my mother, her pissed-off boyfriend, Bones’s ex-lover, his horny sire, and his secretive best friend. Whatever appetite I’d had when I came downstairs was gone. The only thing I wanted to do was get away from all of them, but that meant hiding in my room, and I’d had enough of that, too.
Maybe there was one thing that could help. I went to the cabinets and began to rifle through them with single-minded determination.
“What are you looking for, Catherine?” my mother asked.
“Liquor.”
I was into my third bottle of Jack Daniel’s when Bones arrived. It was sunset, the dying rays turning his hair reddish as he walked through the door. Even a glimpse of his hard, rippled frame caused my hand to tighten on the whiskey. God, he looked good, but I needed to slam the lid on my dirty mind and seek other things to think about. Farm equipment. Agriculture. The state of the economy.
“Blimey, Kitten, is this what you’ve been doing all day? Drinking?”
The judgmental tone Bones used doused my momentary ardor. Nope, no need to ponder the national deficit next!
“Your color’s good, so who are you to talk,” I said. “Is that what took you so long? Did she taste extra yummy?”
I was jealous, as irrational as that might be. Bones picked women to feed from for two reasons—with his looks, they were pathetically easy to get alone, and he liked their flavor more. I hadn’t believed Bones could really taste the difference between male and female blood until he proved it to me. The man could flawlessly genderize a whole blood bank. Once he’d commented that he thought it might be an acquired liking of estrogen.
“She didn’t taste like a gallon of whiskey, that’s for certain,” he shot back, coming over and arching a brow at my near-empty bottle. “Is that all you’ve had today?”
“Certainly is, Crispin,” Ian sang out. “She’s been drinking with the pluck of an Irishman!”
I had nothing heavy nearby to throw at Ian aside from the whiskey, and I wasn’t letting go of that. “Bite me, Ian!”
Bones snatched at my bottle, but I’d been anticipating that. I held on, and it was tug-of-war.
“Put it down,” he barked, prying my hand from my prize. “You need solid food, Kitten, and about a keg of water. Crikey, where’s your mum? Can’t the woman be counted on to at least see that you eat?”
If he had been trying to piss me off, he couldn’t have picked a better way. “Oh sure. Have someone feed me, water me, and keep me on a leash. You know what you should have married, Bones? A dog, then you wouldn’t have all those pesky problems about it occasionally acting on its own.”
“This is just what I bloody need,” he growled, running a hand through his hair. “Coming home to a drunken harpy, waiting to knock my head off.”
This isn’t what he needed? I was the one who’d been punched out, drugged, reduced to hand-feedings—all because of a crazy vampire who’d kidnapped me when I was sixteen and didn’t want to take no for an answer now. “Being a ‘drunken harpy’ has been the highlight of my week, so excuse me if I’m not waiting by the door for you with a big red X on my neck to mark the spot where you can get your dessert.”
Part of me was horrified at what I’d just said. After all, I wasn’t mad at Bones, just the circumstances. But somehow, my mental filter between what I didn’t mean and what I’d said, was broken. I couldn’t even blame it on the liquor, either. Being half-vampire meant I couldn’t get drunk on normal booze.
“Right now I’d say it’s what you need,” Bones shot back. “Is that it? Shall I take you to bed and bite some of the waspishness out of you? Even though I’d rather flog some sense into you instead, as a vampire, I’m up for the task whether I’d want to or not.”
My mouth swung open, and my hand actually tingled with the urge to slap him.
And at the same time, I wanted to cry. This was all so wrong. I was falling to pieces and doing it alone, despite the numerous people around me.
Something of this either showed on my face, or he heard it in the whirling chaos of my mind. Bones’s features lost their icy callousness, and he sighed.
“Kitten…”
“Don’t.” My breath caught, choking back the sob. I couldn’t seem to control how I felt or what came out of my mouth, so it was better if I was alone. Fast, before I said something else I didn’t mean.
“I’m, uh, tired.”
I walked up the stairs, leaving the whiskey behind on the couch. It hadn’t helped. In fact, all I’d done since I woke up was to make matters worse. I knew this situation wasn’t Bones’s fault. He was only doing this to keep everyone safe, including me. But somehow, I ended up taking out my frustration on him. At least unconscious, I couldn’t fuck things up between us more.
I shut the door behind me. There weren’t any glasses in the bedroom, so I cupped my palm and used the sink water to swallow Don’s pills. Their quantity was dwindling. I’d have to have him ship more to me—except I didn’t know where we were.
That falling sensation began shortly after, like the mattress opened up, and I was being sucked down into it. For a split second, I felt panic, reaching out for anything to hold onto. Yet just as requested, I was alone.
Later, when I felt cool flesh against my mouth, I was relieved. Then I finished swallowing and knew this wasn’t Bones, even with my eyes closed and just coming into wakefulness. The blood tasted different.
Spade blinked into view. He removed his hand, but didn’t get up from his seated position on the bed. It was still dark out. Sadly, I hadn’t slept the whole miserable day away.
“Where’s Bones?” I asked.
“He’s outside, should be back in shortly.”
I didn’t say anything, but my anguish at how things had deteriorated to where Bones couldn’t even take the time to wake me must have shown on my face. Spade sighed.
“He’s not used to this, Cat, and he’s handling it quite poorly.”
“Not used to what?” Being married to a psychotic bitch? my mind supplied.
“Fear.” Spade lowered his voice. “Crispin’s always prided himself on his emotional control, yet he has none with you. He’s never before experienced the fear of losing the person he loves to someone else. Oh, your friend Tate might brass Crispin off, but he knows Tate is no real threat. Gregor’s different. He’s older than Crispin, more powerful, and no one knows how much you might have cared for him.”
I was afraid Spade had underestimated the situation. “I don’t think that’s the issue. Bones and I can’t even be around each other without fighting.”
“Both of you are in foul tempers with little to do but lash out at each other, but don’t lose sight of priorities. Isn’t he what you’re fighting for?”
I bit my lip. “What if it is me that’s giving away our location? What if everything I know gets repeated to Gregor in my sleep somehow? I’d be putting everyone in danger by just waking up! And I can’t seem to get a grip on myself.”
My voice cracked. The room blurred as my eyes filled up. See? Emotional train wreck, just like I’d described.
“I think I should go to Don,” I said finally, wiping my eyes. “He has facilities I don’t know about, and they’re built to withstand bunker-buster bombs. I could wait there until things calmed down. And then I wouldn’t be jeopardizing eve
ryone around me—”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Bones filled the doorframe behind Spade. I hadn’t even heard him come up the stairs; he’d moved almost as silently as Fabian. Green glinted in his eyes, and his expression was granite.
“In case you weren’t paying attention, Kitten, I’ll say it again. You’re not going anywhere. Not to Don, or to anyone else. You’re mine, so don’t mention leaving again.”
This wasn’t a tender declaration of “I need you here with me.” No, it was the dispassionate pronouncement of “You’re my ball and chain, and it’s my ankle you’re shackled to!” Bones turned and walked away after making the statement, not bothering to say anything else.
Spade squeezed my hand before sliding off the bed, looking at me almost pityingly before he left.
“It will be all right.”
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t believe him. Bones hadn’t even given me a chance to apologize for earlier before he’d stalked off. Everything that mattered to me—my relationship with Bones, my independence, being there for my friends, taking down murderers—all that was in tatters. Most of that was Gregor’s fault. Some of it, however, was mine. At least I could do something about that.
First things first. I had to get my wildly swinging emotions under control so that when I saw Bones later, we could talk things out. I concentrated on my emotional defenses, strong barriers forged from my childhood days when even my mother rejected me, then honed and thickened over the years when I’d left Bones. They were as familiar to me as my skin, and right now, they were the only things that could hold me together.
When I felt grounded enough, I began to plan. I’d start with a long, hot shower, then do some training to blow off steam. If I was lucky, I’d get Ian to spar with me. Tearing into him sounded like a good start, and he’d been spoiling for a rematch since the day I beat him.
Well, Ian, I thought, today’s your lucky day!
And then after that, I’d talk to Bones. Try to hash things out between us before they got any worse.
TWELVE
IAN GLOWERED UP AT ME. “IF IT WEREN’T SO bleedin’ close to dawn, I’d make you beg for mercy.”
I was on top of him, my legs on either side of his waist. He might have liked it under other circumstances. Right now, though, with a knife sticking out of his chest, he had other things on his mind.
“Sore loser,” I responded, yanking the blade out and leaping to my feet. “Come on. Again.”
“This is a poor substitute for shagging,” he grumbled, rising and frowning at the rent in his shirt. “You’ve ruined it.”
“I told you to just take it off.” With a shrug.
Ian grinned at me. “Ah, but I thought you only wanted to enjoy the goods, poppet.”
He’d kept up a steady stream of comments and innuendoes designed to throw me off my game. I didn’t take it seriously. I knew it was just how he operated.
“Keep talking, pretty boy. It only makes your silent moments better.”
That drew a laugh as we circled each other. Ian’s eyes glittered with expectation. He loved a nasty brawl. It was one of his admirable qualities.
“Find me pretty, do you? I always knew it. Alas, Reaper, we’d have had a grand time of it before, but you had to marry Crispin. Now you’re off-limits forever, but it would have been fun. Very fun.”
“You never stood a chance, Ian.”
He ducked the knife I flung at him with another dirty chuckle.
“Poor aim, sweet. Missed me by a meter. Still chafing at the thought of how easily I could have bedded you before Crispin came back into your life? Do you really think you could have resisted me for long if I’d set out to have you?”
Arrogant bastard. I charged at him, but Ian sidestepped me at the last instant. Too late I knew I’d made a mistake. His foot swept out, his fists followed, and I was knocked off-balance. An elbow crashed into my back. It dropped me to the floor with him right on top of me. He yanked my arms back, bending them the wrong way, and his mouth latched onto my neck.
“One flick of my fangs and your throat would be torn open,” he murmured before releasing me. I flipped over, wincing, to find him staring down at me with objective triumph.
“Temper, temper,” he said. “It’s both your weakness and your strength.”
I scrambled to my feet, moving slower from what had to be broken bones in my rib cage. My rotator cuffs were hyperextended as well. They burned almost as much as my ribs. “One out of three, Ian. I wouldn’t be so quick to brag.”
“I knew I’d beat you eventually,” he countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, given enough time.”
I heard footsteps approach, and my mother came into the room. She looked at the haphazardly rearranged furniture, at me, then at Ian.
“Catherine, how long are you going to be bashing around down here?” she asked.
“Aren’t you going to say hallo, poppet?”
Ian fairly purred the question. I mouthed wordless dire threats to him over her shoulder. He just grinned at me.
She ignored him, my irregular breathing registering to her. “Are you all right, Catherine?”
Two could play the taunting game over her. For effect, I wheezed noisily.
“No I’m not. Ian broke my ribs.”
“Tattletale.” He smirked, knowing what I was doing.
Instead of being overcome with concern, she tapped her foot.
“You shouldn’t have let him get that close. Maybe since you quit your job, you’re losing your edge.”
Son of a bitch. I puffed up in outrage. Ian stifled a laugh.
Then the television stuffed into the far corner of the room turned on. I glanced around in confusion, expecting to see some newcomer with a remote control, when Ian let out a curse.
“Bollocks.”
“Huh?”
He grasped my arm with one hand and my mother’s with the other. My protest was cut off with his next muttered words.
“Dawn. Why does every ghoul feel the need to attack at dawn?”
Ian propelled us out of the room and up the basement staircase. From every corner of the house, people were coming out of their rooms and the TVs were on. Not blaring, just set to low volumes. It hit me then what the synchronized powering of the televisions was. An alarm. A subtle one.
“Who’s attacking?”
“Can’t stay and chat about it,” Ian ground out, rounding the next corner to nearly collide into Bones. “Ah, Crispin. Feeling frisky, I trust? It promises to be a busy morning.”
“So it does,” Bones said, landing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’re coming with me, Kitten. Ian, take her mum below.”
“Wait.”
I tugged at one of the knives on Bones’s belt. He was wearing several. Maybe this wasn’t so unexpected after all. “My ribs are fractured and I’ve got some torn ligaments. You’ll have to give me blood so that doesn’t slow me down.”
Ian let out a mocking grunt. “I won’t wait to hear the rest of this.”
“Nor should you,” Bones shot back. “Kitten, this way.”
He ignored the knife I held up and drew me up to the third level of the house. At first I thought he had weapons waiting for me. Or protective gear, Bones was big on me wearing that. But when we entered the bedroom and he pushed an unseen button in the closet, revealing a small room I hadn’t known was there, I understood.
And was furious.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m hiding in this box.”
“I don’t have time to argue,” Bones cut me off, shoving me inside. “There are monitors, a phone, your cell, and more of your belongings. These are ghouls attacking. With those rumors Majestic said were swirling around, who do you think they’ll target? You, and anyone guarding you. If you remain out of sight, it will improve the chances of everyone fighting, so for God’s sake, Kitten, stay here.”
One glance at Bones’s blazing eyes told me that awake or lights out, I would be in this shelter
.
“You have a monitor facing this door,” he went on, tapping another button on an interior panel. “If anyone you don’t recognize tries to get in, you hit this. Now back away.”
Without waiting for me to comply, he pushed me farther into the room and hit the exterior device. The door slid shut with a heavy clinking sound of locks settling into place. They quieted with a finality that was appropriate for the settings. I was sealed in.
Something caught my attention farther back in this shoe box. Monitors. There were six of them, all with different angles. One pointed toward the closet exterior, as Bones had said, but the others were aimed at the outer grounds. It startled me to see the exterior of the house, because it spoke volumes about where we were. No wonder I hadn’t been allowed to even step outside. From the looks of it, I was in a small castle. I hadn’t been able to tell that from the inside, considering how modern the interior was.
Dawn was just breaking. The sparse lightening of the sky made it easier to see the rush of activity outside, since it didn’t appear that the cameras had night vision. Most of the angles were fixed at points around the castle, but one was aimed at the sloping hill of the lower yard.
I gasped. There were so many of them.
Over a hundred ghouls marched with lethal steadiness up the uneven ground. They were all armed. Some held even more deadly devices than guns or knives, like rocket launchers. How many people were here? Bones, Spade, Rodney, Ian…and a few guards, Spade had said. Against such numbers, it would be a slaughter. Why didn’t they land-mine the lawn? I raged. Why aren’t there more people here? And why are they lining up in front of the house like fucking targets, instead of barricading behind the walls!
A man strode up from the ranks and approached the castle. He was of medium height, with salt-and-pepper hair and a commanding manner. He was saying something, but the damn monitors didn’t have sound. The room was too reinforced for my ears, so I couldn’t hear on my own, either. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be well received. Bones pointed an emphatic finger at the man, and it wasn’t his index one. The guy spat at the ground before whirling around and returning to the others.
Destined for an Early Grave Page 10