by J. L. McCoy
“I’ll go with her, sir,” Hagan offered as he reached the top of the basement stairs. “She’ll be safe with me.”
Archer frowned and looked between Hagan and me a few times, debating what to do. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Fine, Hagan can go with you, but I want you back on that plane as soon as the trial is over, do you understand me? I won’t rest easy until you’re back home and in my arms.”
“Thank you.” I was grateful and relieved he didn’t put up too much of a fight.
“Thank me when you get home safe,” he growled unhappily as he pulled me to his chest and hugged me tight. “I’m trusting you to be smart here. Please don’t do anything that will put you in unnecessary danger. You’re my world, Skye Morrison.”
“You’re mine, too,” I said gently, looking up at his chiseled face. “You don’t have to worry about me. Hagan has my back.”
“I know.” He gave Hagan a brief look before turning back to me. “I’ll call the crew and have them ready the jet for you. Why don’t you go see if Aoife is up yet? She’s got an apartment in SoHo I’m sure she’ll let you borrow for your trip. I’d give you the keys to one of my properties, but they are all currently occupied at the moment.”
“I don’t mind staying in a hotel, Archer.”
“Nonsense.” He shook his head. “Aoife’s building is one of the best in the city and has an unparalleled security team on staff around the clock. Plus, it’s managed by mostly Day. I’d rather have you there, where I know you’ll be safe and sound, than anywhere else.”
“Okay,” I conceded with a nod. “I’ll go talk to Aoife.”
After giving Archer a quick kiss, I excused myself and slowly made my way up the staircase to the second floor. As I climbed, I was suddenly overcome with emotions at the thought of facing my father tomorrow. Would I be able to see him, talk to him? Would I be able to listen to what he had to say without trying to strangle him for what he’d done to me and Nikki first? Would he even tell me the truth about why he chose to involve me in his scheme to take over Atticus’s throne?
An idea popped into my head, and I took the stairs two at a time, eager to talk to Aoife. I knocked on her door twice and turned the knob, letting myself in. “Aoife?”
My eyes locked on a naked Aoife and Lochlan going at it in her bed, and I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, apologized, and slammed the door closed. “Oh, dear God,” I breathed out, moving a few steps away from the door. What the fuck? Aoife and Lochlan supposedly hated each other. That didn’t much look like hate to me; that looked like Lochlan was a starving man and Aoife’s body was his Thanksgiving spread. I almost bolted back down the stairs, but I worried if I did, it would draw the house’s attention, and I didn’t want to have to answer any questions.
A few seconds later, Aoife’s door shot open, one slender, manicured hand thrust out, and closed around my arm, roughly dragging me forward and back inside their love den. As soon as the door sealed again, I was pushed up against it.
“What the hell, Skye?” she demanded angrily, a little out of breath. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“I-I did knock,” I squeaked out, my eyes zeroing in on Lochlan’s naked form. Holy mother! Lochlan was packing some serious heat.
He chuckled as he grabbed his jeans off the floor and threw them on. “Care ta join us, Feek? There’s enough ta go ’round.”
“Ewww!” Aoife and I said at the same time, our eyebrows crumpled in matching indignant expressions.
Lochlan threw his head back and laughed as Aoife and I looked at each other in surprise.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she said gravely. “No one can know.”
“How... how long have you guys... been...?”
“Fucking?” Lochlan provided with a grin
Grimacing, I nodded. I was a bit hesitant to hear the answer and wished I’d never come up here in the first place. This was not something my brain could handle at the moment.
“Twenty-eight years,” she frowned unhappily. “Give or take.”
“It’s been thirty-two years and four months,” Lochlan corrected, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of her long, platinum blonde hair behind her ear. She jerked her head away from him, but he just laughed. “Aoife here can’t get enough o’ me.”
“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my eyes with one hand. “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know!”
“He satisfies a need,” she offered in a whisper, and I shook my head fiercely, back and forth, refusing to hear anymore.
“Don’t say another word.” I held a hand out in front of me in stopping motion. “Please, for the love of all things holy, don’t say another word. Plausible deniability, bitch. Plausible deniability! If someone asks me, I don’t know anything! I saw nothing, I heard nothing, I speak nothing!”
They both laughed, and I straightened my back, somewhat upset, and glared at them. “You two hate each other. Hate! I’ve seen how you talk and act toward one another. How is something like this even possible?”
“That’s just a bit o’ foreplay, Feek.” Lochlan laughed, throwing on a shirt as Aoife tightened her silk robe against her rail-thin frame and winked at me. “Wee wan here loves the Lochlan. Calls me her sex machine.”
“Oh Lord.” I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut again as she slapped him upside the head.
“Shut yer mouth, ya right git!” she growled, her Irish accent suddenly heavy and very noticeable. “She den need ta know dat! I’ll chop yer bollox off and feed um to yer mum!”
Lochlan roared with laughter and swatted her on the ass as she turned around to face me. I watched as her face went deadly serious, all traces of amusement now gone, and she took a few calming deep breaths.
“What is it you needed, Skye?” she asked carefully between clenched teeth. “You came up here for something I’m assuming?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said slowly, shaking my head, trying to rid it of all the horrors I’d just witnessed. “I just got a call from Atticus Frost saying they’d found my father. He invited me to his trial in New York City. Archer wanted me to see if I could stay in your apartment while I’m there. Something about security?”
“Wow,” she said, exhaling loudly, “I can’t believe they found him. Did they say where he was?”
“Somewhere in Costa Rica.”
“Crazy.” She shook her head before continuing. “Of course you can use my apartment.”
She immediately turned, sidestepping Lochlan in the process, and walked over to her nightstand. She quickly jotted down something on a piece of paper and retrieved a key ring from the bedside drawer. “Here’s the address and key. Use it for as long as you need.”
“I have strict instructions from our fearless leader to return as soon as the trial is over,” I said with a smirk. “I’ll only need it for one night.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Lochlan asked, his worry apparent.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just have to see Lucian. I’ve got questions that only he has the answers to. I’m afraid if I don’t go now, I may not get a chance to see him again. I don’t know how Dark justice works, but I do know how pissed Atticus was when he found out about my father’s betrayal. He may be sentenced to the final death for his crimes.”
“Are ye goin’ ta be able ta handle it if he’s sentenced ta death?”
Looking up into Lochlan’s suddenly kind, concerned eyes, I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know.”
Aoife closed the distance between us and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this, Skye.”
“It is what it is.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, as we disengaged from each other. “Listen, there’s one more thing. I kind of have a huge favor to ask you.”
“Name it,” she said, fully meaning it.
“My father told me a lot of stuff the night I met him, and I don’t know what’s true or false. I need to know the truth if I’m to move on with my life. I need to know
what really happened.” Taking a deep breath, I asked her the one thing I really needed from her. “Do you think I could have some of your blood? You can differentiate truth from lies, and I could really use that where I’m going. I wouldn’t normally ask, but I’m desperate to find out the truth. I would understand if you said no, but I’m praying you won’t.”
Aoife and Lochlan exchanged brief glances before Lochlan nodded.
“Sure,” Aoife said, clearly a little uncomfortable, but willing to help me. “I’ll give you what you need.”
Lochlan walked over to her dresser and grabbed a small, decorative bowl sitting atop it, before retrieving his dagger off the nightstand. He passed the dagger to Aoife and held the bowl under her arm.
“I hope this is all right?” she asked, motioning to her dagger and arm with a small nod of her head.
“Of course,” I replied quickly, just grateful to be receiving her gift. I knew it was uber taboo to bite another vampire you were not considered mated to. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“We’re family,” she assured me, meaning it.
She slid the dagger across her wrist, cutting it deeply, and turned it over to drain her life force into the provided bowl. Two more cuts later and I had what I needed to sustain me for at least the next three weeks.
“Bottoms up, Feek.” Lochlan nodded, passing me the blood.
I tentatively put the rim of the bowl to my lips and fleetingly made eye contact with Aoife before tilting it back and slamming the mouthfuls down. Almost immediately, the telltale tingling started in my chest and shot throughout my body in all directions. A weird buzzing sound filled my ears next, before quickly disappearing again.
I handed the bowl back to Lochlan and then looked down the length of my body. “Okay, how do I use this thing?”
“Your hair is red,” Aoife said aloud, matter-of-factly.
When she spoke, the sound of her voice changed. Instead of the way it usually sounded, it was higher pitched, more melodic. “Woah,” I breathed out, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What the hell was that?”
“That is what truth sounds like,” she provided, all businesslike before looking down at the floor. “Now let’s try another. The carpet in this room is purple.”
Replacing the pleasant tone I’d just experienced was a distorted, almost screeching sound to her voice. “Agh!” I grimaced at the tenor, covering my ears. It was akin to nails on a chalkboard for me, and I knew right away I never wanted to hear that sound again. “That’s horrible!”
“That is what a lie sounds like.” She shrugged. “It’s hardly enjoyable, but you get used to it over time.”
“I don’t know about that.” I scowled, hoping no one would ever lie to me while I carried this power. I didn’t know if I could handle meeting a pathological liar; I’d go freaking crazy.
“Variations of the two sounds means you are being given a half truth. When this happens, rephrase the question or ask a more direct one. That usually helps pinpoint whether something is true or false.” She looked me over, assessing me, before speaking again. “Do you understand how it works now?”
“Yeah, it’s not hard to distinguish between the two sounds.”
“Good,” she said, smiling as she leaned past me to open her bedroom door. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m kicking you out.”
Surprised at her directness, my brows rose as my eyes slid to Lochlan.
“Kick rocks, kiddo.” He smirked, winking at me. “Sex machine needs ta get laid.”
“Uh... gross,” I replied, shaking my head and scrunching up my nose in disgust as I turned and stepped back across the threshold.
As the door closed behind me, I heard Aoife bark out. “I hate you, Loch.”
The new way her voice resonated assured me that her statement to him was most definitely false. I shook my head again in disbelief as I turned toward the stairs and headed back down to the first floor.
Chapter Six
By six that evening, Archer’s private jet was fueled and the crew were already on board awaiting our arrival. Archer drove Hagan and me to the airport, and I was grateful for the extra time I got to spend with him, though he’d been in a mood ever since I asked him to stay behind in Austin. It was obvious he was less than thrilled about me going to NYC without him.
I listened to Archer give Hagan a list of safety protocols for our trip and bit my tongue when I felt like he was being too overbearing. After all, he wouldn’t be worried about my safety if he didn’t care about me so much, and I reminded myself that often whenever I felt my mouth start to open in protest.
After checking in with the security gate, Archer pointed the Escalade toward his private hangar.
“You’ll call me the minute you land?” he asked for the third time in twenty minutes as he put the SUV into park.
“You know I will.” I smiled patiently over at him as I unbuckled my seat belt.
“And—”
“And I’ll call you as soon as I get to Aoife’s,” I promised, gently cutting him off. “I’m only going to be gone for a day, honey. I’ll be fine.”
“If Atticus or his men dare try anything with you,” he growled, flashing around to my door and taking my arm, forcing my eyes to his as he gazed deeply into mine, “you kill them all. Do you understand me? I swore to myself I’d never let him near you again, and here I am sending you back to New York.”
“Archer,” I started, but he silenced me with a devastating kiss, full of passion, anger, and possession.
“I mean it, Skye,” he whispered softly against my lips. “If anyone puts a finger on you, you kill every last one of those motherfuckers, damn the repercussions. I’ll take care of everything when you get back home.”
“I’m not in the murder business anymore.” I frowned, remembering how many Dark I killed during the fight with Stanus and his men. It still bothered me how easily I took their lives, and I never wanted to allow myself to get that carried away again. Something dark was inside me; Amun’s essence sometimes bubbled barely beneath the surface of my psyche, and it made it extra hard to control myself during those times.
“Defending yourself is not murder,” he said, gently stroking my cheek with the back of his right hand.
“I’ve got her, athair,” Hagan reassured, taking our two bags of luggage out of the car. “I won’t let her out of my sight.” Hagan wouldn’t be able to go with me to Atticus’s compound, but I didn’t want to remind my boyfriend of that at the moment, so I kept my mouth shut.
Archer nodded at Hagan before turning his attention back to me. “I’ll talk to you in a few hours, my love. Have a good flight.”
“Thank you for helping me with the house. It really means a lot to me. I love you, Archer.” I stood on my tiptoes again to kiss his soft, full lips. “Always and forever.”
“Always and forever, baby,” he repeated, sweetly sweeping his thumb across my bottom lip.
Hagan passed our bags to the awaiting steward and then offered me his elbow. “Your chariot awaits, Morrison.”
*****
Four and a half hours later, the car Archer had arranged for us was pulling up to
Aoife’s posh SoHo address. My eyes widened, taking in the impressive high-rise, as I let out a low whistle. “Damn this place is nice.”
“It pays to be immortal,” Hagan murmured before getting out and grabbing our bags from the trunk of the town car.
The doorman helped me out of the car and held the door open as we went in, touching the brim of his hat in greeting as we passed him.
The lobby of Aoife’s building was jaw-dropping. Sleek, white minimalist furniture dotted the corners and walls while low-profile tables joined them. Every inch of the lobby was modern and immaculate.
“Welcome to The Studemeyer,” the concierge greeted, accepting the luggage from Hagan. “Where may I direct your bags?”
“1301, please,” Hagan provided in his no-nonsense manner.
“Right. By the way, the tenant c
alled and had the refrigerator stocked ahead of your arrival. Should you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call down.”
Hagan nodded once in thanks before steering me toward the elevator.
Once on the thirteenth floor, I discovered that there were just two residences occupying it. I knew by the size of the building that Aoife’s apartment was going to be huge.
Hagan swiftly opened the door, and I was stunned by what was inside. Antique furniture covering several periods decorated her home. There were Art Deco, American Revolutionary, Gothic, Victorian, and King Louis XIV pieces. None of them particularly went together, but that didn’t matter. The way she’d arranged them was tasteful and you could tell she’d given it a lot of thought.
Upon closer inspection, Aoife’s apartment contained four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen, a study, a living room, and a formal dining room. Hagan gave me the master while he took the bedroom directly across the hall from me. We set our luggage down before meeting again in the living room.
“It’s almost eleven,” Hagan said, looking at his cell phone. “Are you hungry?
“Starved.”
“I’ll call down and arrange a donor for you. You should probably call Archer and let him know you’re here.”
“Good idea,” I agreed. “Don’t need him worrying any more than he already has today.”
Hagan walked over to the desk phone while I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and called up my love. On the second ring, he answered, and I briefly filled him in on my current whereabouts. The Mausoleum was packed, so he couldn’t talk long. I told him I’d call him in the morning and bid him a good night.
“Your donor will be here in an hour,” Hagan called over his shoulder, helping himself to the freshly stocked bags of blood in Aoife’s fridge.
“Thank you, sir. What’d you get me?”
“Male.” He smirked at me, biting the corner off a cold bag of blood. “A negative.”
“Yummy!”
“I know your type by now.”