The moment she said it, she regretted it.
The playful and mischievous look in his eyes was replaced with sudden anger. His glower unnerved her more than if he’d yelled at her. The fury simmered behind his eyes with an intensity that terrified her. And it terrified her because beyond the fury was pain. Pain that she had inflicted. Pain that had cut somewhere deeper than she’d intended with her stupid remarks.
His eyes darkened, but within them she saw something she thought him incapable of, that every report said he was incapable of: she saw guilt and, amidst it, the tiniest glimmer of vulnerability.
She could see he hated her for evoking it. Worse, she hated herself for mocking him. Kane, who had found Arana’s torn and ravished body.
It was unforgivable.
Her hands clenched against the wall. She felt sick with guilt, fear squeezing her chest.
His retaliation felt inevitable, but he didn’t lash out. Any other time, any other circumstance, she had no doubt he would have killed her in an instant. But Kane was in it for the long haul, and his reaction proved it.
Clearly he did need her. Really needed her. And because of it, his self-control during those moments was terrifying. More than ever, she now knew he was going to be one hell of an adversary.
‘You know nothing about what happened to my sister,’ he said too quietly.
He had no way of knowing she’d read the reports. How could he when he didn’t even know those who were responsible had given themselves in years before she was even a part of the VCU?
But she’d felt it even as she’d read them – just what he would have gone through. That pain never went away. She knew that only too well – the anger, the injustice, the need for revenge.
And it must have eaten away at him. Kept eating away at whatever heart he had left. His revenge against the vigilantes who’d killed his parents had been merciless. There had been over thirty of them, but he’d got every single one of them and everyone they knew. It had been the start of the tirade that had earned him his reputation. The vigilantes had hoped to evoke a warning by taking down a master family – a caution to all vampires who thought they could share human territory. Instead, they’d learned the lesson of what messing with master vampires, of what messing with Kane, induced. More terrifyingly, he had taken his time over years, filled each with the terror and dread of knowing he was coming for them one at a time. Eventually he’d got his family’s land back, their status, their dignity. Before the regulations came into being.
But that same vengeance for his sister had been, unbeknownst to him, thwarted by a wall of silence the Third Species Control Division had no choice but to maintain. They’d had no choice but to cover it up or the consequences would have been dire – for the families of those responsible, for the entire lycan community, for law and order in the locale. The lycans responsible had handed themselves in the night after the incident, had given full and frank confessions and had since been held in the detainment unit, terrified of the wrath of Kane.
And like an epiphany, the pieces started to merge for Caitlin. The gut-wrenching possibility she had already suspected.
He had found out. He’d finally uncovered the truth.
That was why he wanted her. That was the link. Only now she’d worked out how she fitted in. He wanted justice his way. He wanted them out of detainment so he could deal with them. And to get that, he needed a bargaining tool.
Her.
She thought of the quiet resolve it had taken to get each of his parents’ murderers. Kane had taken his time for a reason, and history had taught her that this was the time to be really afraid.
This was just the start.
The fear gripping her stomach intensified as he stared deep into her eyes as if he was going to say something. Instead he seemed to think better of it.
As he strode away, her whole body sagged with momentary relief.
He ripped off his towel and opened the wardrobe. He tugged on clean boxers and jeans, pulled on a T-shirt as he strode over to the sofas.
Not only was the moment dead but with it any semblance of hope. Because if she were right – if this was about redeeming Arana – nothing would steer him off that path.
And if he had been telling the truth in the bathroom when he’d said he didn’t need to seduce her to get her soul, she didn’t even have the leverage she thought she had. Worse, she’d walked willingly right into his trap.
He picked up his cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table. Placing the cigarette between his lips, he ignited the tip with steady precision before sitting back. He exhaled a curt, swift stream of smoke, his attention locked on the TV.
She needed to know. She needed to know there and then.
And somehow she had to get to the truth without letting him know what she knew or she was about to let slip the biggest secret her division had ever held. She could instigate the vampire-lycan war they all dreaded. And she’d be responsible for the fallout.
She took a few steps towards the sofa, watched him for a moment, the deep but detached concentration in his eyes as they remained fixed on the silent TV screen. ‘I’m sorry for what I said. It was unforgiveable.’
He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even flinch.
‘I know she meant a lot to you. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through that night when you found her.’
She hovered in the silence before sitting on the edge of the sofa opposite him.
This was what Xavier had sent her in for. This was the information they needed. Inadvertently she had uncovered it and, despite his silence, she needed to persist.
Jask had to have been the one to tell him. The lycan community in Blackthorn was too small for him not to know. If he’d told Kane voluntarily, he was playing a hell of a dangerous game. Either that or Kane already had him well and truly in his grasp.
‘I know you tried to find out who was responsible,’ she added.
‘I know who’s responsible,’ he said, his gaze snapping to hers, the steadiness as he held it almost unbearable.
‘Who?’ She hated the quiver in her voice that she knew he’d detected. ‘Who did it, Kane?’
‘How are they doing? Still being fed and watered? Being good lycans and taking their meds?’
Acid rose at the back of her throat. ‘Is this why you and Jask have been communicating? Did he also tell you they gave themselves up the next night? They were scared of you, Kane. They were terrified. I read their confessions. They didn’t know who she was. They hadn’t taken their meds. It was a full moon. They were out of control.’
‘Everyone knew who Arana was.’
‘They made a mistake.’
‘With my sister.’
She gripped the edge of the seat. ‘Is that why you hate the Third Species Control Division so much? Did we take your revenge away from you? Is this the vigilante justice you talk about? Are you planning to use me as a bargaining tool for their release? Do you want me to read them? Is that why you chose a shadow reader? For proof that it was them?’
He looked back at the screen, lifted the cigarette to his lips.
‘What are you planning – some kind of execution? Because if that’s what this is about, you have to know they’ll never be let out. I understand your need for vengeance, Kane—’
‘Really?’ he asked, his gaze snapping to hers.
‘You know I do. Why do you think I risked everything hunting you down – my reputation, my job, my life?’
‘Then help organise their release.’
‘I couldn’t hand them over to you, even if I wanted to.’
‘Even if I offered to give you what you want? Even if I agreed to delay my plan and kill for you?’
The perfect solution to both their problems – if she agreed to being responsible for anarchy in Blackthorn, in the locale. Anarchy that was guaranteed to spread to other locales once they heard that the justice her kind so openly proclaimed had been handed over to a vigilante vampire.
The
death toll alone was unthinkable.
All for one self-seeking decision.
She didn’t operate like that. She didn’t operate like Kane or others of his kind and, if she agreed, she was no better than them. Her kind was no better than them.
‘You expect me to say yes knowing what you would do to them?’
‘That’s where you and I differ, see, Caitlin. I don’t do rehabilitation. I don’t do protecting criminals from justice. I don’t waste money, time and resources on those beyond redemption.’
‘And how do you know who is beyond redemption?’
‘If you read their confessions, you know what they did to her.’
And it had been the most disturbing report she had ever read. At twenty-three, it had dragged her out of her innocence and shaped her view of the world. ‘Yes. But you have to see that what you’re planning is not going to make this better, Kane.’
‘Neither is killing what you’re hunting. Yet you think you have a right to avenge your family, whereas I have no right to avenge what has been done to mine?’
‘That thing will get away with it if I don’t stop it. Those lycans aren’t getting away with anything. This is why the unit exists: to stop things like this happening. They are paying for what they did.’
‘Safely tucked up in your detainment unit as opposed to being at my mercy? I tell you what stops things like that happening – your kind butting out of issues that do not concern them. Lycans don’t need to be medicated any more than my kind needs to be filled with that shit you encourage them to feed on to help curb their cravings. It’s about respect and self-control and keeping the balance by a natural order. A natural order that us masters are more than capable of maintaining. They should never have been taken in. They should have been left to me. You’re nothing but a hypocrite asking me to help you get your vengeance when you have no intention of helping me get mine.’
She couldn’t argue. She didn’t blame him. More than ever, she understood. But all that was irrelevant. Kane was no innocent victim merely seeking retribution for his sister. He remained the most dangerous vampire to their district for over fifty years. His potential was still terrifying, let alone the fact the consequences of an inter-species civil war would be horrendous. And if he did persuade the TSCD to let the lycans go, their reputation would be demolished. They would no longer be trusted. The TSCD sanctuary for those third species at risk or those who helped them with their enquiries would mean nothing. There would be fear in the district again. Everything they’d fought for would be in shreds.
She had to get out of there and warn them. If they’d ever had justification to take him in, it was now.
‘Even if I did agree with you morally, it’s not even possible in the next couple of days,’ she said. ‘You don’t have time for this. You’ve left it too late. And if what you said about Xavier is right, even attempting this is just giving him reason to take you in. Is that what you want?’ She hesitated for a moment. She had to try, as futile as it seemed. ‘Let me go and I won’t say anything. They don’t have to know you took me. I can just say I took some time out because of the suspension. I promise you, I’ll say nothing.’
He exhaled curtly and looked back at the screen, his hint of a derisive smirk unsettling her further, his resoluteness seemingly impenetrable. ‘Nice try.’
‘Max has no power in this if that’s why you took me. Xavier is the only one who can arrange for those lycans to be released and there’s no way he’ll do it. If you want me to read them, if that’s the proof you want, let me go. I’ll get in there. I’ll confirm it for you. It won’t work any other way. Just tell me how my soul fits in all this. Why do you need to extract it? How will that aid your vengeance?’
She waited for him to answer, but Kane said nothing, his attention still locked on the screen.
In frustration, fearful of what she might say next, she marched over to the bed. She sat on the edge and clutched the bedpost as she rested her head against it.
Kane wasn’t going to help her. She had to face that fact. She was insane for thinking he would. But at least she now knew why he was involved with Jask and what he was planning. That gave her the answers Xavier wanted. Her official job was done.
She had to get out of there. She had to get out of there now.
But it still didn’t give her the information she so desperately needed. A name. Just a name. Armed with that, there were people out there she could talk to – shamans and witches she could persuade. As closed a community as they were, she’d get answers somehow. Plenty owed her favours – some who, once they had the name, may even be able to disclose a way for her to kill it herself. Someone other than him had to know something. Other ancients who may talk for a price. Beyond those doors was hope. In here she didn’t stand a chance.
Once she had a name, she could turn all her attention to getting out of here.
She needed to bargain with him. She needed to offer him something.
Something too tempting for him to turn down.
She hated even considering it. In so many ways it was unforgiveable, but it was a one-off. A small exchange for what she could potentially get in return. It could sate him. It could lower his guard. It could send him to sleep maybe long enough for her to escape. It could mean getting the information she needed and a way out.
It was daylight outside. It was her best chance. Maybe her only chance.
She’d let him calm down first. She’d calm herself down. And then she’d offer him the one thing no vampire, however smart, savvy or powerful, could refuse.
She’d offer him her blood.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kane kept his attention on the flickering images on the screen as he turned up the volume. He was relieved she’d stepped away. Relieved she’d had enough sense for that. Even after she’d taken herself away, it took all his self-control to suppress the searing heat burning inside him.
How he’d contained himself when she’d jibed him over Arana’s death, he had no idea. But he knew he had found it somewhere between needing his vengeance more and knowing how easily she’d snap if he unleashed his true self on her.
Right then he’d wanted to hurt her so badly. Possibilities had lashed through his mind – thoughts that only confirmed just how depraved he had become. Twisted, sickening thoughts. He’d nearly let it all out. But it was too soon. He needed that soul first. The soul that was locked behind a defiant and dogmatic heart.
And he’d seen in her eyes how afraid she was. She knew what he was capable of but still she’d come after him. Still she’d pressed him for information.
She was desperate for resolution.
But unfortunately so was he.
And righting the wrongs done to his sister was the only thing that mattered. The only thing he had left. And he wouldn’t rest until he’d achieved it. He owed Arana that. He owed her what little justice he could get. It wouldn’t bring her back – Caitlin had been right. It wouldn’t bring back her smiles, the comfort of her touch, her laughter and playful pranks. It wouldn’t bring back her companionship on cold, lonely nights or her lively conversations and alluring perspective on the world. It wouldn’t bring back her infuriating nonchalance towards risks and danger. Her impulsiveness. Her mischievous streak that had given him far too many sleepless days and far too many confrontations with suitors who’d dared to think they were good enough to get in her bed.
It was the least he could do to go some way to ease the all-consuming guilt that had become as much a part of him because he’d allowed it to happen whilst he’d spent the night in the arms of a female whose name he couldn’t even remember, whose face was a distant memory. Another night of meaningless, unsatisfying sex while his sister lay on some cold, concrete floor crying out for him.
His little sister, the one he’d promised to always protect, the one he swore no one would ever hurt.
Arana may not have died in peace, but she’d rest in peace.
And there was only one way for that to happ
en.
He stubbed out his cigarette and stood from the sofa.
Stepping out of her sight into the depths of the kitchen, he clutched the worktop as he bowed over it. This was the part he wouldn’t let Caitlin see, couldn’t afford for her to see. The part that had nearly come out as he had her backed against the wall. If any of the venom inside had leaked out, she’d have known there was no hope for her.
She was smart. Smart and sensitive and perceptive. She’d been reading him from the moment she’d woken on his bed – assessing her situation and making plans. She had to believe she could succeed or it wouldn’t work. If she knew the truth of how impossible her cause was, she’d close down on him and make her soul even less accessible than it already was.
He had to stop her seeing the dense, impenetrable chasm she was in.
It was cruel but it was necessary.
He gripped the counter.
And because of that he couldn’t afford to feel the way he had when he’d wrapped his arm around her in the bath. When he’d felt just how vulnerable she really was. When he’d detected every tiny response to him. It hadn’t been just sexual as he’d intended – finding out what might make her tick. A connection had sparked – the last thing he could afford. He’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed seeing that side of her. That side so tightly concealed inside her. For a split second, she’d forgotten who he was. Or for a split second, she hadn’t cared.
That was what he needed.
He needed more.
He needed to get back out there and allow her to get closer. Allow himself to get closer – closer than he’d dared let himself get to anyone in a long time – if he was going to succeed.
Kane hadn’t even looked at her in the hour or so that had passed. His coldness only made what she was about to do harder. Caitlin clenched her hands in her lap as she watched him from the bed. No time yet had felt like the right time to approach him. But she knew no time would.
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