Gaslight (Crossbreed Series Book 4)

by Dannika Dark

  Christian shouldered past him into the warm trailer.

  “This place is too fucking big,” Crush complained as he kicked the door shut.

  “I’m afraid they were all out of mud huts.”

  “Keep it up, peckerhead.” Crush walked with a mean strut through the living room, in which the only furnishings were his tacky brown recliner and a TV.

  Christian followed him to the kitchen just ahead and sat on a stool by the island while Crush grabbed two bottles of orange soda from the fridge. “I could bring over the rest of your furniture,” he offered.

  Crush mumbled a few profanities as he popped the lid off one bottle and handed Christian the other.

  It had taken Christian every ounce of willpower not to hog-tie the man and drag him to his temporary residence. When he’d threatened to charm the man, Crush put on a pair of dark shades and told him to fuck off. Undeterred, Christian hefted his favorite chair and threw it into the back of Crush’s truck, right along with his mattress. After a long negotiation and a lot of swearing, they finally struck an agreement.

  Crush stood across from him. “I’m only staying here for Raven. It’s been a month. You better have news.” He gulped down three large swallows, his blue eyes boring a hole into Christian.

  “I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure you were keeping out of trouble. I can’t have you wandering around the city.”

  Crush pulled the lining of his pants pocket out. “Would you look at that? I’m all out of fucks to give. I spent years thinking my baby was dead. So finding out she chose another path was all right by me. I’m not about to go through this again. I should be out there looking for her.”

  “That man knows her, and as long as you draw breath, you’re a liability. We’ve notified the Mageri that he’s wanted for a murder investigation, and they put Enforcers on his arse. He’s not a man used to living on the run. He has a career and a home, and now that we’ve driven him into hiding, it’s only a matter of time before he pokes his head out.”

  Crush rested his forearms on the counter and leaned forward. “I’ve got a business to run. My boys are hardworking, but they’re not fit to run an auto shop for this long.”

  “Their boss needed a holiday.”

  Crush stroked his grey goatee and chuckled. “They probably think I’m dying of cancer. There’s no way they’re buying I went to Jamaica.”

  “I can arrange to send them a postcard. Just tell them you found a lovely girl with big knockers.”

  A stool creaked when Crush settled his weight onto it. He wrung his hands, tattoos running up his arms. “What does he want with my little girl?”

  Crush must have asked himself that same question every night, and while Christian knew the answer, he spared her father that knowledge. Crush was a perceptive man who knew the dark side of the Breed world, but sometimes imagining a thing is more bearable than knowing it.

  Christian turned his bottle and studied the label. “The Mageri provided us with his alias, so we have someone monitoring all the databases. Unless he’s living in a bomb shelter, he’ll eventually surface for supplies. Unfortunately, there’s only so much we can do. Our team worked day and night but came up with no leads.”

  Crush jerked his head. “Worked… as in past tense. Are you saying they stopped looking?”

  Christian flipped the lid off his bottle with a flick of his thumb. It spun on the surface between them and came to a stop. “I’m here, am I not?” After a sip of the sugary drink, he set the bottle down. “We have a lot of connections, and I’m doing the best I can. I have a feeling he’ll poke his head up in no time. He’s a man who keeps to a routine. We’ll continue checking all leads, but in the meantime, I’m visiting his favorite spots to see if he turns up. He has another mouth to feed, and supplies won’t last.”

  “Meanwhile, God only knows what Raven’s going through.”

  “She’s a fighter.”

  Crush pointed his finger, a skull ring wrapped around it. “That don’t make it right.”

  Christian stared at his bottle. “Aye.”

  “Raven’s had it rough her whole life. I gave her what I could, but a girl needs her mama. She’s tough as nails, but that doesn’t mean she’s fine. Raven needs lookin’ out for—someone who won’t give up on her.” Crush stroked his goatee. “Do you know what this fucker looks like?”

  “Bald from what the butcher said, and an English accent. That doesn’t narrow it down much in this city, but he has a penchant for lamb shanks. Bought them every day. That’s not a common request, and a man’s desires are his weakness. His banker’s been notified, and we’re keeping a close watch for cash withdrawals.”

  Crush turned the silver ring on his finger in circles. “What if he left town? What if he left the country?”

  “Not likely. It’s too difficult to transport someone by car for long distances. Knowing Raven, she would have kicked out the taillights. He wouldn’t want to risk getting pulled over. And you can forget putting her on a plane. The sorry bastard would have to rent a private jet, and even then, she’d probably bring the whole thing down. The girl is too clever. This bastard paid a considerable amount of money for her, so I wager he hasn’t gone far. I’d like to question everyone he works with, but the Mageri forbade us. They have people working undercover there and don’t like the idea of a Vampire snooping about and questioning their people. Too many cameras for me to get away with it anyhow.”

  “I got buddies who can make things happen with the snap of my fingers.”

  “That I don’t doubt. Perhaps you should snap your fingers for some furniture.” Christian’s gaze drifted toward the fridge. “How’s your food supply holding out?”

  “Don’t have much of an appetite, but I get by.”

  “Feck off. You and your appetite,” he grumbled. “I stocked your freezer with fifteen steaks. You don’t strike me as a man who turns down food.”

  Crush gave him the finger with one hand and sipped his drink with the other. He didn’t think much of Christian and didn’t hide his feelings about it. It made Christian wonder if this was the right idea. Raven was supposed to let go of her mortal life. If she had any inkling that her father not only remembered her visit but knew about the Breed world, she’d never be able to move on. Immortals discovered early on that choosing progeny who still had strong family bonds never ended well. Most who were selected had no family. They were the ones who lasted.

  Christian looked around. “You should move here and live it up. Don’t you think you deserve an upgrade before you kick the bucket?”

  “I like my digs. They’re cozy. I know where shit is. I can’t even find my ass in here when I turn around.”

  They both chuckled until the humor died with the thought of Raven’s absence. Christian ruffled his dark hair, wondering if Viktor needed him on their new assignment. It was closely related to Raven’s case—a buyer of newly made Vampires. There was a substantial price on his head because he was allegedly transporting victims across borders. The latest auction centered around the daughter of a prominent politician. The higher authority could have ordered them to take down the seller and call it a day, but the buyer piqued their interest. Based on evidence, he was running a professional trafficking ring. They’d linked numerous purchases, and it was likely the guy was turning over those women to international buyers for a substantial profit. As much as Christian wanted to get involved, he owed it to Raven to keep searching for her.

  “That’s a nice ring,” Crush said, eyes fixed on the onyx stone. “I don’t remember you wearing that when we first met, but you’ve worn it every time since.”

  Christian put his hands in his lap, but he could tell that Crush was still thinking about it.

  One thing he’d quickly learned was that Raven’s father was a perceptive man who didn’t bullshit anyone. That made Christian a wee bit uncomfortable. They’d never spoken about Christian’s affection for Raven, because there was no need to. Crush called it the first time they’d m
et.

  “I’ll do what I can to find her,” Christian said, trying to wrap things up.

  Crush leaned in. “What are you gonna do when you find him?”

  “Worry not. If he’s put one finger on her, I’ll pull his heart out through his belly button. The Mageri wants him, to be sure, but they’ll never get their hands on him if I have any say.”

  Crush rubbed his weathered face.

  “I have your number if anything comes up.” Christian stood and held on to the lapels of his coat. “Now don’t go traipsing off into the city in search of her.”

  “Then don’t give up. You got that?” He retrieved a set of keys from his pocket and walked around the kitchen island. “By the way, swing by my house and check on things. Make sure the garage door is still locked and nobody’s robbed me blind. If anything happens to my bike, your ass is getting nailed to a telephone pole.”

  “Do I look like your fecking personal assistant?”

  “I don’t give two shits if this puts you out. You’re the one who dragged me out here to God knows where. And bring my mail. I still have bills to pay. I don’t need the postman thinking I’m dead.”

  “You keep sitting in that filthy recliner, and you just might catch a disease. If I see any bills in the post, I’ll take care of them.”

  “Opening someone else’s mail is a federal offense.”

  “Oh, for feck’s sake.” Christian moved swiftly toward the door. “I’ll be at the butcher’s shop from here on out.”

  “Is that the best option you got?”

  Christian rubbed the back of his neck and turned around. “The only other places he visits regularly are the cleaners and a local pub, but he won’t be popping in for a pint. We’ve got cameras on his house.”

  “Why did he suddenly go missing? If the black market is anonymous, what spooked him into hiding?”

  “The Enforcers showed up at his employment on his day off. I think someone else there knows how to reach him. If it’s a human, it creates a lot of red tape for Keystone. I can’t get past Breed security to question everyone, and now that they’ve seen me, they’re monitoring the parking lot.”

  “Aren’t they the ones that hire you?”

  “If you know anything about our world, then you know that working with the Mageri and higher authority is about as thrilling as pulling porcupine needles out of your arse. They don’t want us meddling on the premises, so they sent in their own people. Once we have a name or description, I’ll look into it. For now, I don’t want to spook him. Better that he thinks the dust is beginning to settle.” Christian turned the knob. “Don’t worry, Mr. Graves. I’ll find your daughter.”

  “I told you to call me Crush.”

  Christian smirked. “I can’t help but appreciate the irony of your name considering your daughter has filled so many of them.”

  Crush folded his arms. “Let’s just hope she gets a chance to fill one more. I can’t live out here forever, Vamp. Make some headway, or I’ll have no choice but to go back. I’ve got a shop to run, and I’ve got buddies who might be able to help.”

  “Let’s save your Harley girls as a last resort.”

  Crush narrowed his eyes. “I’ve seen women with thicker beards than yours.”

  Insults were their usual parting words, and they were always trying to one-up the other. Christian waved his hand and walked out. He had half a mind to buy a bucket of pink paint and make sure that Crush’s Harley was given a proper makeover.

  His thoughts steered back to Raven as he descended the steps, the door slamming behind him. Did she know Fletcher was in hiding? Was she using it to make him even more paranoid? Men were like wild animals when backed into a corner—they lashed out. Christian couldn’t offer his protection forever. Every man had free will, and Crush wasn’t the type who gave a damn about his own safety. His daughter’s kidnapping was already taking its toll by the looks of the man’s loose shirt and baggy jeans.

  As Christian neared his bike, he turned the ring on his finger. If he didn’t come up with new information soon, Viktor would have no choice but to assign him to their other case. Life went on, and they couldn’t exhaust all their resources on a dead end. Eventually they’d pull out completely, and when that day came, Christian would finally know where his loyalty lay—with the organization that gave his life direction, or with the woman who gave his life meaning.

  Chapter 23

  Miss? Miss, wake up. He brought you food today. Miss?”

  Without lifting my head, I opened one eye. Rachel—just a blurry outline of a woman on her knees—set a paper plate on the floor next to me.

  I’d lost track of the days. When the food stopped, my energy depleted—especially with Fletcher juicing from me more often. I’d lost the energy to fight him off, and as a result, my ability to tell time wasn’t reliable.

  “You better hurry before he changes his mind,” she said quietly.

  I dragged my arm toward the plate and grabbed a bone, not even bothering to lift my head as I drew the meat to my lips. It was juicy, and I took big bites until I became so ravenous that I sat up. Once I’d eaten every morsel of the lamb, I shoved the grilled potatoes into my mouth all at once.

  “I cooked everything,” she said, as if seeking my approval.

  My stomach cramped when I finished chewing the last bite. Maybe my malnutrition affected the quality of my light, so Fletcher had given in. After I gulped down the water, I wiped my mouth and moved the chain out of my lap. The manacles on my wrists had bruised and cut my skin from my repeated attempts to weaken a hinge by pulling. A foot of slack separated my wrists—same as my ankles—and attached to a master chain that bolted into the wall above my head.

  “I’m glad he lengthened your chain again,” she said, collecting my trash. “It’s more comfortable than the shortest one.”

  I wiped strands of matted hair away from my face. “Where is he?”

  “Sleeping. I don’t think he’ll be coming back in here tonight. He hasn’t had lamb shanks in a long time, and he ate too much.”

  I licked my chapped lips. “He’s been leaving the house?”

  “No. I’m doing all the work.”

  Much to my dismay. I hoped Fletcher would return to his regular routine so he could stay the hell away from me. His visits used to be once a day, but boredom and a light addiction don’t mix.

  I grabbed the threadbare blanket beside me and covered my naked body. “Don’t you want to be an independent?”

  Her thick brows furrowed. Rachel must have been about my height and build, but she seemed weaker and defenseless. Had short hair been his idea or hers? The frumpy dress was certainly his. Did she dress that way in public? The hospital probably had a dress code, and I guessed Fletcher didn’t allow her to do anything outside of errands.

  “You’re not supposed to live with your Creator forever,” I explained. “He wants you to fear the outside world so you’ll never leave him. He might allow you to venture out and work, but you’re still his. His to control, his to juice light from, and his to order around like a servant.”

  “What am I supposed to do, go to the Mageri? They’ll put me down like a rabid dog.”

  I knew all about that fear. Years later, it was still difficult to undo all the paranoia Fletcher had instilled. “Only if they think you’re unstable. You haven’t murdered anyone, have you? The Mageri has an evaluation process. If you don’t want to seek their protection, then escape Cognito and find a small town. Live your life.”

  She adamantly shook her head. “He saved me from a drug overdose. They thought I was dead. Fletcher gives me everything I need. I’m not a prisoner. I go out, work, shop, and someday he might grant me independence.”

  I lowered my head. Rachel didn’t want to hear the truth. Fear had nestled into her heart and made a home. “Can you do me a favor?”

  She stared at me wordlessly.

  “I just want my friends to know I’m alive. That’s all.”

  Rachel peered over
her shoulder at the door. “He’ll find out.”

  “There’s no way he’ll know unless he follows you, and from the sound of it, he barely gets off the couch. I’m not asking you to give them directions on where to find me. I just want them to know I’m alive. They’re not human, so they have a right to know. It’ll make Fletcher’s life easier,” I added. “I’m the reason why the Mageri is looking for him. I can tell them to stop searching.”

  “It sounds dangerous. What if they force me to talk? I can’t.”

  She had a point. Keystone wasn’t going to let her walk without Christian charming her for information. She would never take such a risk. “What about leaving a message with a bartender? He knows my friends, and you won’t have to confront anyone. You can just walk in, drop off the note, and leave before he even reads it. No arranged meetings or anything that would make you uncomfortable. I promise Fletcher won’t find out, and if anything, this’ll help his situation. Helping him means helping both of us. He can go back to his job and start earning money again. I’ll put something in the note that says I’m choosing to leave. That way the Enforcers won’t be able to touch Fletcher. He’s not smart enough to believe this’ll work, but you are.”

  She worried her lip.

  What Rachel didn’t realize was that the note was irrelevant. The important part was someone being able to identify Rachel. She had a distinct look and style. Not many women had a pixie cut, and her large green eyes were stunning even if the rest of her was quite plain. I wasn’t sure how much my team knew about the buyer—if anything—but I was hopeful that Enforcers showing up at Fletcher’s work wasn’t a coincidence. Someone might be able to trace her to the hospital he worked at. Maybe Keystone had given up searching, but that didn’t mean I had to give up.

  “Please, Rachel. I don’t know anything about your family or past, but you have to know how it feels to leave someone behind. My friends are all I’ve got in this world. I don’t want them worrying about me. If I can just tell them that I’m happy and alive, it’ll be the closure everyone needs. Fletcher can go back to work, and your life goes back to normal.” I realized Rachel was more influenced by fear than sentiment, so I threw in something else for good measure. “You’re not registered with the Mageri, are you? How long do you think it’ll take before they realize you shouldn’t be working at the hospital? The Enforcers will be back, and they’re not going to believe your story. Send the note, and my friends will call off the search.”