by Kim Schubert
Kass nodded, casting a sidelong look at Darren. “He and Mark are having problems.”
“That sucks,” I said. “I need to talk to him about the witches. Those crazy assholes are practicing all over my territory.”
“What are they doing?” Logan asked.
“Nothing too out of the ordinary, from what I know. It’s just been some time since I’ve stumbled across their circle with blood sacrifices. Granted, it was a goat and a chicken, but my gut tells me there’s something behind it I’m not going to like.”
“Have you talked to Garrick?” Kass asked, changing the subject away from sacrifices while we ate.
I shifted, uncomfortably.
“You haven’t forgotten about the upcoming meetings?” she pressed.
I groaned, “No, I have not forgotten about The Conferences or who will be there.” The Conferences was the largest gathering of Supernaturals in the world. This year it was being held stateside and saving me a fortune on plane tickets.
I had to go. It was part of the job and one of the duties assigned to me.
“It’s just a breeding ground for drama and fights,” I groaned, snagging the last slice of pizza off the pan.
Logan grunted and I chose to take that as agreement. “It’s a necessary evil.”
“Are you going?” I asked Kass.
Darren answered, placing a hand protectively on her stomach, “No.”
Kass gave him an annoyed glare. “I can answer for myself.”
Darren shrugged, returning to his meal. “I can’t help it. You and the baby are throwing all my protective instincts into overdrive.”
“Aww,” I teased, laughing when Kass leveled her glare at me. “Don’t worry, Darren, I wouldn’t have let her go, either.”
“Seriously, do I have no free will, you fucking assholes?” She slammed her drink down.
“Yes,” I answered, figuring I was better suited to take the heat than Darren, “but you are ours to protect and taking you to The Conferences is dangerous. Just be happy Darren doesn’t cut up your food.”
Darren smiled at Kass. “He tried,” she answered blandly.
“It’s all from a place of love,” I assured her.
She huffed, ignoring me good-naturedly to pick up eating again.
“Who is Garrick?” Logan asked, munching on his meat lovers pizza.
“He’s a vampire who runs the western territory, my counterpart on the Supernatural Council. I would have thought you’d met him, being leader of the entire U.S.”
Logan thought about that. Casting a look at Darren, he cleared his throat. “The alphas of the western US deal with things themselves, they don’t subcontract with the Council like we do here.”
I nodded. “Interesting. I wonder if he knows the revenue stream he is missing.”
“You two actually get along?” Logan asked.
Kass choked on her water. I smiled, “It’s a complicated relationship.”
Kass snorted, “Last time you two were in the same room, it had to be evacuated.”
“We made up.” In his bedroom, several times over. “To answer the question, Garrick leaves me alone and I leave him alone. The only time we see each other is at The Conferences. We handle our situations differently. He’s much better at politics than I am.”
Logan chuckled, “That isn’t a great feat.”
“True,” I admitted, leaning back in my chair. “What are we getting for dessert?”
Thinking of Garrick had my mind shifting back to Blake and all the things I wished I could forget.
“I’m thinking at least one of each,” Kass purred, looking over the dessert menu propped on the table.
“I like the way you think.”
Chapter 6
Kass had been right. Mark and Jerry were having serious issues.
Logan went with Kass and Darren after lunch and I headed over to the historical district close to downtown. I hadn’t thought to call ahead. I probably should have.
I had stopped mid-knock, waiting outside on their porch, listening to the slamming and the yelling. I could feel the anger, fear, and pain radiating from the house. I was debating coming back later when the door flew open and Mark fled the scene. If he saw me, it didn’t slow his progress.
I waited off to the side of the open door, expecting Jerry to run after him. I think Mark did as well, as he stared at the open door from his car, with misty eyes and labored breaths. Slamming a hand against the steering wheel, he threw the vehicle into reverse and fled the quaint house they shared together.
Blowing out a breath, I secured my own emotions behind thick barriers before crossing the threshold uninvited.
“Go away,” Jerry groaned, standing at the cart bar and pouring himself a drink. His bloodshot eyes took a moment to focus on the fact it was me and not Mark.
“Wanna talk about it?” I asked, closing the door softly behind me. His eyes followed the door painfully until it clicked shut.
“No,” Jerry whispered, his dark skin a contrast to the cream sofa he fell onto.
He no longer resembled the carefree youth I had met not too long ago. Before me now was a weary soul who, like me, had done and seen too much. The scars left behind didn’t leave much room for the love of a good partner, like Mark.
Even if we were both trying—well, he was trying. I was trying to forget.
“What do you want?” he asked, dragging his bloodshot eyes to my own.
I sat at the edge of the sofa, facing him. “The witches are up to something.”
He scoffed, standing and throwing his glass in the same movement. It shattered against the far wall. The effort threw him off balance. “I don’t KNOW ANYTHING, Olivia. Why are you here?” He rounded on me, bellowing, “Why can’t you go kill something, torture someone, to get your information? Why do I have to be your liaison to the witches because your piss poor manners and ‘poor me’ excuses grant you leave to do anything you want?” He moved to make another drink, stumbling. “Oh right, I forgot, your boyfriend—” heavy emphasis of, “left you. He finally realized you were more trouble than a fuck was worth.”
I was aware he wasn’t really angry at me, but the digs stung, anyway. In that moment, hurting him would have felt wonderful. Clenching my jaw, I stood. I really wanted to tell him where to shove it, but I wasn’t risking the tears that would make me weak, so instead I just turned and left.
He called after me, “Shit, Olie, I’m sorry. Mark wants to adopt a shifter and I—“ I closed the door on his words, exhaling a ragged breath.
I’d forgive him, but not today.
I slammed the door of my SUV and called Becky. My fingers clenched the steering wheel with deadly force.
“Yo boss,” she greeted me, chomping on something probably high in sugar.
“Prep the trespassers. I’ll be there in thirty.”
I could hear the grin in her answer, “Yes ma’m.”
…
I don’t typically keep prisoners. But when a space was needed for interrogation in the short term, we had an old farmhouse outfitted with soundproof rooms and all the toys a girl like me could ask for.
I had both vampires strung up by their wrists, toes brushing the old concrete flooring. Running my fingers over cold metal blades of various sizes, I hummed soothingly to myself. The third one had died shortly after I arrived in town.
Having made my decision, I sat down in front of them on the tacky vinyl chair liberated from the ramshackle farmhouse kitchen.
“So, who would like to speak first?” I asked, pointing the blade between the two of them.
Stiff shoulders and clenched jaws met my request, eyes riveted behind me.
I sighed happily. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”
…
Six hours later, both the vampires were dead. I had wanted to prolong their demise to send a message, but I had things to do.
“I got nothing, boss,” Becky informed me through the cell phone clamped tightly to my ear. I hated when
she called me that. I had flashbacks of that horrible strip club I had been forced to infiltrate.
“Dammit,” I hissed, listening to her chomp her gum.
“You do the boys dirty?” she asked eagerly.
I stifled a laugh, looking around at the dust on the floor.
“You would have been proud.”
She sighed, “I always miss the good ones.”
“Next time I’ll show more restraint,” I promised. I felt better having mutilated the two vampires but Jerry’s words still stung in my raw wounds.
“I’ll try Mal.” Not that she wanted to hear from me. “Thanks, Becky. “
“Anytime, boss.”
I cleaned up my mess, my mind occupied as I completed the menial task before heading down to the kitchen. There I washed my hands under the cold water and dried them on the paper towels.
Satisfied that my mess was cleaned up, I set the alarm and locked the doors before stomping down the faded white steps and into my SUV.
I texted Mal my request and fiddled with the radio while I waited for her to respond.
I needed her to run the names that the now deceased informants had given me. I had spent the night toying around with boys and though it would be bedtime for Mal, I was hoping to catch her before she turned in.
Fine, hurry up, she responded to my text.
I smiled, pocketing my phone and heading out.
…
A grumpy Mal met me at the front door. Apparently, I caused too many problems on my own. Silently, we made our way to their computer lab.
“What do you have on Patricia Bellarosa?” I asked, sitting in a chair next to her and looking over her shoulder. It was just she and I here at this early hour.
“What do you want with her?” she grumbled as she typed rapidly, still annoyed that I was keeping her from her beauty sleep.
Tommy, my usual hacker and computer guru, was on a group vacation to Disneyland. I missed him dearly. I did not want to be here.
Resting my chin in my palm, I watched the screen pull up a beautiful woman with long ice-blond hair and a cruel smile.
“Wow,” Mal whistled. “Every House that took her in exiled her. That takes talent.”
I grunted in agreement. She was just under a hundred years old and, from the information listed about her, as twisted as they came. There was even a mention of her draining babies.
“Why hasn’t anyone put her down?” I asked, both disgusted with the file and annoyed that the vampires hadn’t taken care of their dirty laundry, especially after they’d come out of the proverbial closet and announced themselves to the humans.
“They’ve tried, it wasn’t successful. She’s a killer for hire now and her record is impressive.”
“Not as impressive as mine.”
“Is this what you need?”
“No.” Rubbing my tired eyes, I searched the screen again, trying to see a connection between her and Tate.
Mal’s phone pinged at her and she sighed heavily. “I gotta go, security issue.”
I nodded, still staring at the screen.
“Let yourself out and do not start trouble.”
I nodded absentmindedly, not hearing the door shut behind her. What was I missing? Tate had never taken her in and there was no mention of them being at the same Houses. Maybe they met somewhere? The name would ring a bell? Maybe this was all a wild goose chase. I didn’t even know if this name was real or a trumped up lead to keep me spinning in circles. I needed to find the bitch and have a conversation, one killer to another.
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, mentally ticking off my to-do list: I had to find Patricia Bellarosa. I needed the witches to stop whatever weird shit they were up to. And I’d better patch up my rocky relationship with Grams, not to mention my damaged relationship with Jerry. The list felt endless, my burdens had never felt this heavy before. My life was divided into two categories, before and after Blake. Damn my weak heart for missing him so.
Rubbing my temples, I heard the door open. “Forgot something?” I asked Mal.
Silence met my answer. I looked over to ask her if I needed an escort out. The words died on my lips, my mouth hanging open as Blake stood over me, staring down from impossibly blue eyes.
Shock and desire removed the air in my lungs. Pain followed shortly after and had me launching out of my seat, backing away from him, stumbling over my upturned chair. My miserable body responded to him in ways I didn’t need him scenting.
His inhale and upturned lips told me it was too late.
Shit.
“Olivia.” My name on his lips was almost too much. I couldn’t look at him, shame forcing me to look away. I had shown him all my broken pieces, he knew too much.
He stepped closer, between my car keys and me.
SHIT.
I couldn’t look at him, shouldn’t look at him. Another look into those devastatingly handsome eyes and I’d give in to my desires.
I was certain of it.
Just to feel him near again, to hear my name on his lips in pleasure, to be chosen over Angelina.
I wanted to be worthy of his love.
His gentle touch under my chin had me gasping for air, the contact jarring me to my toes. I looked into his mesmerizing cobalt gaze.
“Find what you are looking for?” His soft voice washed over me, heat pooling inside of me.
“No.” My voice was hardly above a whisper. My eyes searched his, wanting, needing to understand this sudden change in him. Hope, that foolish beast, was willing him to have changed his mind. Clan be dammed.
Damn him and that slow seductive smile.
Damn my traitorous body.
I had to get back in control. I had to push his advancing form away. I couldn’t let his lips come any closer to my own.
I shouldn’t want this, he broke my heart and he didn’t get a second chance.
But I’d do anything just to have him back, just to feel whole for a little while longer.
“Blake,” I whispered before his lips grazed mine.
Thoughts fled me, instinct and need dominated.
He nuzzled the sensitive flesh under my ear, my hands fisting into his shirt of their own will, closing the distance between our bodies.
The emotional distance dissipated, followed by my pants. The ripping sound must have been my underwear. His hands on my ass lifted me up to be impaled on his waiting length. Our lips still intertwined, I squealed into his mouth, a dark chuckle answering my cry.
Something hard hit my back and I assumed it was the wall. I was all sensation, the pain in my chest easing, the joy of being reconnected to him forcing tears to leak down my cheeks.
My soul was home.
I panted, holding onto him as the pleasure stole feeling in my limbs. Closing my eyes and nuzzling my face into his neck, I exhaled, feeling everything inside me settle into perfection.
“Shit,” he whispered suddenly, pulling back to look down at me. I looked up, and regret looked back at me.
“What's wrong?” I asked as he pulled out of me, dropping my legs abruptly. Thankfully, they held, shaky as I was.
As he put himself together quickly I could only stare at him in confusion, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“I can't be with you, Olivia.” He came closer, still avoiding my gaze, but resting a hand against my heart.
“I love you, but I can’t do this.”
His words emptied my heart of my short-lived joy and I gave serious thought to killing him.
If I thought for a second it would end the pain inside of me, I would have.
I pulled on jeans, leaving my ruined underwear behind, and leaving the compound with a promise I would never return.
…
I didn’t run to my SUV, but I wanted to like in one of those terribly cheesy romance movies Kass forced me to watch. My heart shattered and with every step, the pieces crunched under foot.
Instead, I left just how I had entered, silently, my posture stiff and my
emotions under heavy guard.
I didn’t remember the drive, didn’t recall getting out of the SUV and falling to my knees at Lawrence’s grave, but here I was again, seeking comfort from Logan and Darren’s grandfather. Stephen, the Puppet Master, had reanimated him, bringing my life info full frontal contact with the shifters.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I leaned against the cold stone, wiling my heart to grow cold as well, but my damn brain wouldn’t shut off. Blake’s final words were on repeat inside my head: I love you, but I can’t do this.
Chapter 7
My phone ringing relentlessly finally pulled me from my despondent stupor.
I glared at the screen. “What?” I muttered to Logan.
“You are needed,” he said, his words clipped in anger. “NOW.”
I looked at the screen, seeing that he had hung up on me. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Sure would be nice to know where I was needed.
I pushed myself up and worked the kinks out on my way back to the SUV.
Kass called next, sobbing, “Olie, where are you?”
“On my way.” So that’s where I was needed.
…
I parked in front of Darren and Kass’s home. It was in a newly built neighborhood with pristine landscaping and green shaded parks. Before rising from the driver’s seat, I had to take a moment to center my emotions as best as I could.
This distraction helped, but my misery was still threatening to crush me.
Blowing out a breath, I opened the SUV’s door, then slammed it loudly behind me before striding to the front door. Logan yanked it open before I could even knock. He took a deep breath as I walked by, a soft chuckle on his lips.
“So soon?” he questioned, irritated, why I have no idea. Who I slept with wasn’t any of his business.
I turned, my blood running cold. He smelled Blake on me. For one painful moment my guards broke, pain lacing my heart and trying to push tears from my eyes.
Anger fast followed. “Leave it,” I warned him.
Voices in the kitchen drew me.
“This is not up for debate,” Kass hissed at Darren, her mocha eyes narrowed at him, a half-eaten cookie dangling forgotten in her fingers. She must be pissed.