by Caris Roane
She put a hand to her chest, aware her heartrate had just spiked. The proximity was killing her and it was time, if possible, to create some physical distance. “I should be getting back to HQ. I need to let Donaldson know I’m still alive.”
The permanent line between Connor’s brows deepened. “But what if he’s part of this, Iris? Everyone knows he’s on the take and you already said he requested you. It’s possible he was directly involved in the assassination attempt since the Trib has the ability to shut any of the bridges down. If he’s involved, he might be under some obligation to send someone else after you.”
She rubbed her forehead. “You’re right. Someone got to him.”
“We need to figure out what’s going on here before we split up. And as it happens, I have a lead.”
He told her about Gary Smith, who Iris knew was called Big Nuts behind Gary’s back. She’d seen him several times and knew exactly why he’d earned the nickname. He had the biggest balls she’d ever seen and for some reason enjoyed showing them off.
He also owned a sex club that featured overweight women called House of Big Sex.
“Why Big Nuts?”
He smiled, probably because she had no problem using Gary’s nickname, as horribly descriptive as it was. “Tammy said she owed him for some blood flame. He’s the one who sent her out to Amado.”
Once more, her gaze moved from Connor’s left shoulder to his right. He was a physically powerful man and was probably her best chance of surviving the night, whatever path it took.
When she’d first realized Connor had started visiting her home, hovering above her garden while she worked in it, she’d searched him on the net. She found out he’d worked as an engineer and had built over fifty of the bridges throughout Shadow and Crescent.
She remembered being stunned to learn that a vampire had created anything useful. The fae were the real workers of Five Bridges as well as the dead-talkers. Maybe that was the moment she knew she was in trouble with him.
“Iris, there’s one thing I’d like to know. I’m fully aware that most witches wouldn’t get this close to a vampire without engaging an enthralling spell. Why haven’t you tried one of your witchy trips on me? Tried to control me?”
She rarely talked about these things, about her craft or her philosophy of being a witch. But it seemed appropriate now. “Mostly, I don’t believe in it.”
“Could you do it, though? Do you have that level of skill and power?”
“I do.” A shot of fear went through her. “But please don’t tell anyone.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“There are dark forces in Elegance among the various more powerful covens. Witches who practice the dark arts summon power from evil spiritual elements that have taken root in Five Bridges. These women, and a few wizards, don’t hesitate to use their gifts to enslave witches of power like me.”
He cocked his head. “Is that why you live such a solitary existence?”
“It’s definitely the main reason. I have a healthy fear of vampires, but an absolute dread of dark witches.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“You’ve probably heard of her. Seraphina.”
His nostrils flared and his lips turned down. “I’d kill her if I could find her.”
Seraphina and her group had murdered over a hundred of Connor’s kind in the last year alone. Rumors had it she planned one day to rule the Tribunal with the intent of turning Crescent into a police state.
Still looking at her, Connor narrowed his eyes once more, something he did a lot. His eyes were incredibly blue, his brow as furrowed as ever. “I need to be honest here. None of the criminal encounters I’ve had with witches have ended well. I’ve destroyed many of your kind and thought nothing of it.”
“But my guess is, you only take a life during the commission of a violent crime. Am I right?”
Connor shifted his gaze away from her. His eyes looked haunted. “Not always. There have been a couple of incidences where I was out of control and deserved to be taken out. If you’d seen me, you would have shot me and I would have welcomed it.”
This was a lot of honesty and she wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Finally, she said, “Did these events happen earlier in your life?”
“Somewhat. Yes.” He shifted his gaze to stare at the slate floor. “And they’re my biggest regrets.”
Iris could have pressed him for more details, but she didn’t want to know too much. If he told her, she was pretty sure she’d have to leave. And right now, she needed him.
“I’m not innocent either. When my sister, Violet, was murdered, I’d fully intended on hunting down the vampires who tortured, raped and killed her. If I’d found them, I know I would have used any witch power I possessed to drive them into the dirt.”
“Iris, I’m really sorry you lost your sister. You never discovered who did it?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me when this happened?”
“I’d rather not go into it. I’ve worked hard over the years to let it go. Had to, otherwise I was slowly going insane. But I miss her.”
“I understand.”
She considered him for a moment. “Have you ever killed a vampire?” She knew what she was doing; she was looking for some reason to dislike Connor. The proximity of the situation was beating her down and giving rise to a lot of unhelpful ideas. If he confessed to showing partiality to his own species, she could think badly of him and maybe then she wouldn’t crave him the way she did.
Mostly, he sat so close she had to keep resisting a powerful urge to touch him and to glide her hand over his massive shoulders.
God help her, was she falling for a vampire?
~ ~ ~
Connor felt weighed down by the conversation. He hated sharing the nature of his actions and the why’s of anything he did. Yet he felt a strong need to as honest with Iris as much as he could. “I have a lot of guilt over some of the vampires I’ve taken out. But each time, I’d caught them in the middle of a violent crime. I’m sure my answer isn’t what you expected, but, yes, I kill my kind as well.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “I’ve never met an officer like you. Most of the Crescent Border Patrol spit at me and refuse to share details about a scene I’ve been sent to report on. And since we’re being honest, I thought all of you were corrupt. That’s the word on the street that no officer is beyond being bought off.”
He hated the stereotype. “Not me. Not some of my brothers, though maybe half the force is greasing its fingers.”
“But not you?”
“Did you need to ask twice?”
She shook her head and released a whistling sound through her lips. “No. I apologize.”
She shouldn’t be so pretty. That’s what he thought. She had large brown eyes that glinted when she was mad. He’d like to see those same eyes lit with passion.
He knew she was interested. She might even need a good lay, especially someone like her who seemed to go it alone. They were alike in that way. He’d been checking up on her for months and in all that time she’d never gone out on a single date.
His gaze fell to her fingers. She had beautiful hands, the nails trimmed close and covered with some kind of shimmering violet polish. But he had to remind himself that with enough power, she could release a killing shot from the tip of one of those fingers. If she felt justified in doing it, she’d kill him without batting an eye.
He’d be smart to keep his distance, but the proximity tonight had doubled his desire for her. The whole time they’d been talking, he was hiding an erection. What was it about Iris that got to him so completely?
“I’m going to need a change of clothes,” she said. “And a quick shower. Also, you might want to bring some fresh gear with you to my house.”
“Why?” The thought of needing to put on a different set of clothes for any reason, had his groin humming once more.
“Call it an instinct, though it’s closer to pr
escience this time. Trust me, you’ll need some of your things at my house.”
“All right. I’ll take your word for it.”
She sighed. “But after that, where do we find Big Nuts this time of night?”
Chapter Three – BLOOD FLAME
A few minutes later, Iris had her arms pinned around Connor’s neck as he flew her through the air. With his arm tight around her waist and her feet balanced on his boot, the t-shirt was drawn up to the bottom of her buttocks. To anyone below, she would have been fully exposed. But Connor had taken them to an even higher altitude than before. This meant, of course, that she was frightened half out of her wits and worked hard to keep from repeating her strangling technique.
Yet at the same time, desire flowed through her once more. Her breasts were flat up against Connor’s muscled chest and as he maneuvered through the air, his pecs would tighten and release, teasing her badly. Each time, she had to repress a moan of pure pleasure. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She’d had a few casual relationships since her alter, but nothing significant.
She’d been married for two years when she entered Five Bridges with her sister. She’d lost so much because of the alter, something she tried not to think about very often. Grief was never a simple process and hers, because she’d had to leave a husband she loved behind, was still a decade old, still hurt, and might always be an ache in her heart.
Even worse, she’d been pregnant at the time and the alter had taken the life of her little girl.
But holding onto Connor in such a tight embrace reminded her how good life could be. In this moment, she could set everything aside and remember what it had been like to desire someone like mad, to want to be only with him, to need to share his bed.
He slowed down as he passed over Sentinel Bridge. “Take a look, Iris. I know flying unsettles you, but you won’t believe what I’m seeing. I think your bike is still intact. And don’t worry, I have you.”
She hadn’t planned on releasing her iron grip on his shoulders and neck, but the mention of her Trib cruiser had her easing back. When she’d made enough space to see, she looked down. At the same time, Connor slowed in the air.
The first thing she saw was a pit on the bridge about fifteen feet wide. But Connor had been right, her bike was still there, a good ten feet from the edge of the hole. Rubble was everywhere.
Not surprising, though the bombed-out section was cordoned off, several TPS officers directed traffic around the gaping hole. The reality was simple; the drug lords only made money if humans kept moving through Five Bridges and spending their weekly earnings.
“You’re body’s grown stiff, Iris. You mad?”
“It seems so disrespectful to Jason and Sadie. Couldn’t the bridge stay closed for five minutes?”
“You know what our world is.”
She sighed and when he began picking up speed, she once more wrapped her arms securely around his neck. “I know, but it really bugs me.”
“I hear you.”
Connor zipped her through the air back to Elegance. At least she didn’t have to give him directions, a thought that made her chuckle. Was it only a couple of hours ago that she’d looked up into the night sky, hunting for him?
“Something funny?”
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to know how to react to all we’ve been through, and the night’s not over yet.” Absently, she ran a finger along the short shoulder seam of his tank. The hilt of his sword was pressed into her right hip and she could feel his Glock against her left.
Connor had given her a canvas bag for her belongings, which he now carried in his free hand along with his own travel bag slung over his shoulder. The man was thoughtful.
When he began his descent toward her house, she suggested he land in the backyard. “I’d rather my neighbors didn’t see us on the front porch.”
“Good idea.”
Slowly, he eased past the huge tree to the small patch of lawn she kept in the middle of her jungle-like garden.
Once she stepped off his boot, she took the canvas bag from his hand, then told him to make himself at home. She headed inside, but left the French doors wide to make sure Connor knew he was welcome to come in.
She went to her bedroom and after closing the door, she planted a hand between her breasts. She could feel her heart pounding. What was it about Connor that ramped her up so completely?
She needed some help calming down. She crossed to the bedside table and lit the small candle beneath a miniature cauldron. The flame would be enough to warm up the water and send lavender streaming through the air. For her, nothing eased her like this fragrance.
The room quickly filled with the edgy floral scent. From her chest of drawers, she withdrew a packet of bay leaves. Taking a small one out, she slipped it under her tongue. Bay had a protective effect and would also support her present need for wisdom. She couldn’t keep the leaf in place for very long, however, or she would easily slide into a vision-state.
She removed Connor’s shirt, folded it up and set it outside her bedroom door. She’d almost thrown it on the bed, which would have been nothing short of a witchy invitation for the man to hurry in here and take possession of her body.
The same earlier sensation returned of craving Connor desperately. She almost retrieved his shirt from the hall. After all, would it really be so bad to make use of his incredibly muscular body?
When her mind began to swirl faintly, she plucked the bay leaf from her mouth, crossed to the brew pot and laid it on top of the small lavender flowers and stems.
Time to get cleaned up. She slid into a robe, gathered up a fresh set of clothes and crossed the hall to the bathroom, the only one in her small house.
Once in the shower, she dipped beneath the spray.
Nothing could have felt better than the stream of hot water hitting her neck and shoulders. She washed her hair as well since the explosion had given her an odd metallic smell.
She’d always found showers a cleansing experience on more than one level. Given what she’d just been through, she spoke a series of incantations to purify her soul, her body and her home from all bad influences. She thought perhaps in this way, her desire for Connor might be eased as well.
When she finally shut the shower off, a new wind blew through the bathroom, smelling of thyme again.
“Violet, you’re here?” She was surprised to have another visit. In all this time, she might have felt her sister’s presence on occasion, but never with this level of connection which also involved telepathy.
Yes, I’m here, Iris. A sense of urgency accompanied her words.
“I can feel that you’re distressed. What’s wrong? Is there something you need me to do?”
Save Connor.
She wondered if she’d heard right. “You want me to save Connor?”
Yes.
Iris would have asked what she meant, but just like that, the wind swept from the room and Violet was gone.
Iris stood very still for a long time processing the strange conversation. But it made no sense. Why did Connor need saving?
~ ~ ~
Deep in the garden, Connor stared up at the owl named Sebastien. He was a sturdy-looking, beige and brown predator bird and sat on one of several large branches of a massive sissoo tree. As a forest creature, he was way out of his element in the desert, yet he looked at home in Iris’s garden.
Connor had never been in a witch’s dwelling before and what he’d seen earlier had stunned him. Plants grew everywhere within her home, in dozens of pots and containers, many of them creeping over trellises and latticework attached to the walls. A yellow cat had sat near the legs of the dining table, watching him as he moved around the small rooms. Her house might be a detached home, but it wasn’t much bigger than his townhouse.
And here in the garden, he felt as though the plants were all leaning toward him and trying to talk to him. It was odd, yet pleasant in a way he couldn’t explain.
He was definit
ely in Elegance.
“Everything okay?”
He heard Iris’s voice and turned toward her. At the same moment, a wind suddenly hit him in the back. He even lurched forward a couple of steps.
The same gust flowed in Iris’s direction. When it reached her, she held out both hands and closed her eyes, savoring whatever this was.
A few seconds later, the night was once more very still. “What was that?”
“Violet, my deceased sister. She’s been active tonight, though I’m not sure why. I think she’s worried about me.”
As she moved onto the patio near what appeared to be a small workroom on the right, she stopped near a tall lattice of blooming, purple flowers. He watched the flowers sway in her direction. It was like seeing music take physical shape. The cat crossed the threshold behind her. The owl hooted.
Iris looked beautiful. Her hair was damp from her shower, and she wore it in the usual ponytail, which in turn framed her lovely features. She had angled cheekbones, a creamy complexion and full lips. She wore another snug, short-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and a pair of sturdy running shoes.
A calm came over him. A decision made. He knew exactly what he was going to do, what he’d been wanting to do for a long time. The time and place were right. After all, he was in Iris’s garden.
He unclipped his holster and the sword sheath, setting his weapons on the grass, then held out his hand to her. What needed to happen had to be with the approval of her owl, as well as the yellow cat now rubbing around her ankles.
She looked serious as she began walking toward him, her eyes wide. A soft flow of energy moved from plant to plant, following her as she took each step. He felt it all and it only increased his need for her.
“Connor?” She stood a couple of polite feet away. Her gaze flipped over his Glock and his sword, then back to him.
“I love your garden,” he said quietly. He glanced down at the cat, who sat and stared up at him. Approval? He looked up at the owl, who appeared to dip his head. Definitely approval.