by Trina M. Lee
“Tall with long, curly hair. Brunette. I think her eyes were dark. Jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing that especially caught my eye.” Brogan’s ponytail fell over her shoulder as she inclined her head, studying me. “Do you know who she is?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” I shook my head, unable to believe what the borrowed name on the card told me. It was impossible; it had to be. “So, I guess she’ll be surprised when I show up in your place.”
“That’s the plan.”
I held up the card. “Can I keep this?”
“Of course.” With a bright smile, Brogan nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I’m always here to help.”
I forced myself to smile, hoping she wouldn’t see the shadows in my eyes. “You got it.”
My exit was hasty. The card in my hand held the faintest trace of energy. It was so miniscule I could barely feel it. It taunted me. She had touched it. Zelda Fitzgerald. I knew who she was, knew it with every part of me, despite the odds being stacked so strongly against the possibility.
The Great Gatsby was part of the school curriculum. To me it had been a bore, even more so when the teacher made us watch the movie version as well. But for some, it had sparked an interest in the Roaring Twenties and those who made the era what it was.
One person in particular had developed a fascination with that time that had existed so long before she did. Someone who had the soul of one far older than her teen years. Someone who had died the night Raoul attacked my family.
* * * *
I arrived at the coffee shop early. I wanted to stake the place out before walking inside. As far as coffee shops went, this one was very public and busy. It was as safe a place as any. When I was satisfied that I wasn’t going to get jumped, I went in and chose a table that allowed me to watch the door.
I had a death grip on my frappuccino cup. As each minute ticked by, my nerves grew increasingly frazzled. Would she still want to talk when she saw me instead of Brogan?
At exactly one hour past the closing time of Toil and Trouble, in walked a leggy brunette. Her dark gaze landed on me, and I was dumbfounded. My stomach twisted, and a fresh surge of adrenaline crashed through me.
She jerked to a halt, shock registering on her face. It was gone in a flash. She recovered fast. Forcing herself into motion, she approached me with a shaky smile.
“Hey, Lexi. Long time, no see.”
Nobody called me Lexi. In fact, I hated the nickname. Only one person had called me that, and she died ten years ago. Yet, there she stood, no longer the kid that lived in my memories. All grown up and somehow alive despite everything I had believed, it was her: my sister.
Shock. Absolute, total and utter shock.
I stared in disbelief. Her hair was the same deep chocolate brown as our mother’s. It fell in curls over her shoulders. Clad in dark jeans and a trendy jacket, she was tall and lean; I’d always been the short one.
I met her brown eyes, so like my own, and found wariness, confusion and possibly even hope in their depths. How could this be? She was dead. Raoul had killed her along with our mother and father. Yet there she stood, waiting for my reaction.
“Juliet?” Her name felt foreign on my lips. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d said it.
“In the flesh.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly. “It’s been a long time.”
I had to remember to breathe. Stunned as I was, it almost hurt to suck in a ragged breath. “How? He killed you. I know he did.”
She shook her head, and something close to sadness passed through her eyes. “No. He killed mom and dad. I probably should have died, too. I was in a coma for two weeks. I woke up surrounded by strangers. And, you were long gone.”
The events of that night played out in my head. I’d been attacked, lying there in a pool of my own blood. My family lay dead, strewn throughout the house. My dad and my sister had been in another room. I never saw their bodies with my own eyes.
“I thought I was the only one who survived. I couldn’t hang around after that. After what he turned me into.” This was too much to take in. I just kept staring at her, waiting to wake up from this dream.
Juliet slid onto the seat across from me. She sat stiffly. Her face hardened, and her tone became brittle. “You didn’t go far though. Not from him. How could you do it, Alexa?”
I was confused. Juliet seemed to know a lot more about me than I would have guessed. “How long have you known I was alive?”
“Long enough to know that you slept with the man that did this to us. How could you? After what he did to mom and dad’s marriage? After he murdered them?” She spoke calmly, but there was venom in her words.
The weight of her accusatory stare grew heavy. She may have been my sister, once, but she was a stranger right now, one who had no right to question me. Not unless she was willing to spit out some answers of her own.
“I didn’t know about mom’s affair with him until last year. I never knew he was the one who attacked us that night. He kept it all from me. And now, he’s dead.”
She studied me hard, finding truth in my response. Her face softened. “You’re powerful. More than you ever were as a kid.”
I shrugged. “Things change.” The initial shock began to fade. I couldn’t allow old memories to break down my defense. I didn’t know if I could trust her.
“They certainly do.”
An awkward silence settled between us. I wanted to ask her so many questions, but most of them she would never answer.
“What are you doing here, Juliet? Why now?”
Her full lips twisted into a frown. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. So do I. For instance, why are your eyes blue? And, why do you work with a demon?”
I was channeling a lot of power in my anxious state. It was instinct to keep it coiled tight and ready inside me. Apparently, I was tapping a little too much if my eyes were still blue.
So, she knew a lot about me. I couldn’t help but feel that was unfair. She hadn’t been bothered to reveal her existence, but she’d clearly put in the time to learn about mine.
“My eyes are still brown. Usually.” I offered nothing else. I had no way of knowing how much she knew. I wasn’t about to tell her. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where you’ve been all these years, or why you never bothered to get in touch.”
Juliet smiled, an amused little quirk of her lips that triggered memories of that same smile on the little girl I’d known her to be. It was familiar and safe but also possibly misleading.
“I suppose that’s fair.” Juliet was calm and collected. Nothing about her indicated she was as nervous as I was. She was just so suave. “I was taken in and raised by a government organization. They wanted you, too, but by the time they came for us, you were gone. They gave me a place to call home, and now I work for them.”
She paused to allow me to take that in. I leaned back in my chair, crossed my legs, then uncrossed them. I was restless, and it showed.
“So what do you do for this organization? And, why wait until now to tell me you’re alive? That information would have been really nice to have, Juliet.” Her name felt so odd in my mouth, though it shouldn’t.
“I clean up messes. Tie up loose ends. Gather information. That kind of thing.” She held my gaze, unflinching. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have told you sooner.”
My little sister grew up to be a killer just like me. That truth held something horrifying, something that broke my heart.
“So you’re some kind of black ops. Espionage, covert operation and assassination? Mom and Dad would be so proud.”
“It’s not so different from what you do. Is it?” Leaning back in her chair, Juliet crossed her arms over her chest and regarded me with the fierce intensity of the wolf. “I work for the Federal Para-Intelligence Agency. It’s classified. Our business is national security on a paranormal level.”
A chill crept over me. I didn’t like the sound of this. “You
’re telling me a paranormal government group grabbed you after the attack, and now you’re part of their team? You never wanted to leave?”
“Sounds crazy, huh?” She nibbled her bottom lip, the only nervous gesture she’d exhibited so far. “Almost as crazy as being taken in by the man who murdered our parents. And then, sleeping with him.”
My cheeks burned with both embarrassment and fury. With my anger, my power flared. The lights dimmed in response. Not good. “I understand how that may look to you. I’ve spent the past year wishing I’d been the one to kill him. But, I don’t owe you an explanation.”
We stared intently at one another. I could feel her wolf staring out at me, sizing me up. I was torn, wanting to touch her to make sure she was real and to shake her for daring to judge me.
Juliet’s gaze dropped to the coffee stained tabletop. “This is hard for me, too. I’ve really missed you. You were supposed to be with me, all these years. By the time the FPA tracked you down, you were working for Shya.”
The FPA had clearly done their homework on me. She knew a lot. Too much. It didn’t sit well with me.
“What do you know about Shya?”
“A lot.” When Juliet looked up, there was a cold, calculating glint in her eyes. “He’s an FPA error that won’t disappear. He has his own agenda, which seems to involve manipulating anyone and anything with serious power to get what he wants. Including you.”
“You don’t have to tell me that Shya’s up to no good. He’s a demon. Why would the FPA ever expect anything else from him?”
“He was bound by a deal, one that he carefully constructed with a loophole. He got his hands on some classified information and went AWOL. We were keeping an eye on him, but our informant has gone missing. We assume he was murdered.”
The blood drained from my face. I hoped it wasn’t noticeable. The realization sunk in with a mind-numbing smack. Veryl, my jackass boss, had been that FPA informant. And, I had murdered him.
“Informant?” I tried to keep my tone light, unaffected. “I imagine that’s a job that comes with a pretty serious risk factor.”
She shrugged. “Sure. I doubt his link to the FPA killed him. He wasn’t one of our guys. Just someone that would slip us info every now and then.”
I wanted to kill Veryl all over again. He had to have known the FPA had my sister. He must have also known that they wanted me. And, he’d made sure to keep me for himself. At Shya’s command?
I took a deep breath and fought back the anger that threatened to overwhelm me. “If you’re talking about Veryl Armstrong, I killed him.”
Juliet paused, then nodded, short and curt. “Oh, I see. Why?”
“He was blackmailing someone. At least, that’s the official reason.” Wow did I ever wish I had a glass of whiskey. My nerves were shot.
“And unofficially?”
“I wanted to. Veryl kept a lot of secrets from me, like who’d attacked us. He had a bit of a God complex.”
“Hmm.” Amused understanding shone in her eyes. “That explains why we haven’t been able to reach him. Look, Lexi, I’m here because of an investigation. One of our agents was found dead a few weeks ago. Abigail Irving. The FPA thinks you might be involved.”
I was speechless. I stared at her, flustered, and tried for the best damn poker face I could muster. It took a minute to make my tongue work. “Who?”
I had known the night I killed her that Abigail Irving would haunt me. I never dreamed it would be like this. Veryl was one kill I’d proudly admit, but to anyone outside my inner circle, Abigail was “Speak no evil.”
Her gentle smile faded. “They’ve got you on a watch list, Alexa. They don’t trust you. Because of the power you have, you have the potential to be dangerous.”
I laughed then; I couldn’t stop it. Her statement wasn’t funny. Actually, it was downright threatening, shocking in that slap in the face kind of way. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m not going to say anything about you being the one who killed Veryl.” Juliet reached into her pocket and withdrew a cell phone. She tapped the screen a few times and put it away. “Remember how I’d cover for you with Mom and Dad when you’d sneak out your bedroom window? And, then that one night you got caught. Climbed into your room, and Mom was sitting on your bed in the dark.”
“She scared the hell out of me. Grounded me for a month.”
“Me, too. For lying for you.”
The memory rose up like it was yesterday. We shared a laugh, giggling girlishly like the teenagers we used to be, before everything changed and our world was doused in blood. Tears flooded my eyes, and I blinked them back, fearful they would be crimson. I didn’t want Juliet to see that side of me.
“I missed you, Lexi.”
I laughed, but it was painful. “I missed you too, Jules.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’d like to turn a blind eye to the whole thing. But, you work for an enemy. Be careful. I would hate to see us end up on opposing sides.” Juliet’s warning hung ominously between us.
The hits just kept coming this week. Since I was already screwed six ways from Sunday, I figured I’d ask the question dancing on the tip of my tongue. “Should I be worried?”
Juliet tapped her fingernails on the tabletop in an erratic pattern. With a stiff set to her shoulders and a bleak nod, she said, “If you killed Abigail Irving, then yes.”
Chapter Four
The band Crimson Sin was playing at The Wicked Kiss. The addition of live music had really improved the place, giving the club an edge that a DJ spinning top 40 songs couldn’t. Although, the vampire bar didn’t really need any extra edge.
Sipping a whiskey on the rocks, I watched the activity from my favorite table while pondering the events of my evening so far. The business card with Juliet’s fake name on it burned a hole in my pocket. The urge to pull it out was strong; I just couldn’t stop thinking about our reunion. It was surreal.
The dimly lit booth was positioned perfectly to allow me a clear view of the entire club as well as both entrances. It was also far enough away from the dance floor and stage to provide the illusion of a laid-back setting.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jez pursed her ruby red lips and eyed the front entrance. “I’m still pissed.”
I shoved my nagging thoughts of Juliet aside and focused on the angry leopard sitting across from me. “You have every right to be pissed. But, how long do you plan to drag this out? Either forgive him or cut ties with him completely. It’s not fair to torture Kale like this.”
Jez frowned and twirled the little umbrella in her drink. Her long, golden hair fell in wild curls down her back. With piercing green eyes, she shot me a dirty look. Jez was the only naturally born Were I knew; our usual sterility made children near impossible.
“I haven’t even begun to torture Kale,” she scoffed. “It’s the least he deserves after what he did to me.”
I sighed, nodding in agreement. I understood where her anger stemmed from. Kale was one of few people Jez truly trusted, but he’d blown that trust to hell. Kale had recently returned to his old killing ways. Unable to control himself, his bloodlust had targeted Jez.
“You don’t have to do this, but you have to do something.” I glanced at the door as a trickle of anxiety crept over me. Jez wasn’t the only one nervous about Kale’s arrival.
The scowl on Jez’s pretty face looked out of place. A sultry smirk was more her style. “If he’s late, I’m out of here.”
I shook my head but didn’t bother replying. She just wanted to be snarky; we both knew damn well Kale wouldn’t be late.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach as my anxiety shifted from one thing to another. I looked back and forth between the front entry and the doorway at the rear that led into the back hall. Lined with private rooms, the back hall was where vampires took their willing victims for some fun and games.
“Why are you so nervous?” Her green eyes narrowed, and she wat
ched me speculatively while sipping from her pink cocktail. “You know he’ll try to fuck you before he kills you. Me… I don’t stand a chance.”
Frowning, I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “Not cool, dude.”
“Sorry.” She shrugged but offered no real sense of apology. “It’s true though. You guys have a weird relationship. So complicated.”
I clutched my glass, seeking false comfort. My original intention had been never to drink at The Wicked Kiss. So much for that.
My nerves were getting to me; I was freaked out not just by Kale’s impending arrival nor even the hit out on me. I felt Shaz here, too, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Which could only mean one thing: he was lost in the role of blood whore. Again.
Things had gotten disturbingly twisted between me and my wolf mate in recent weeks. We had both made mistakes that apologies and regrets would not fix. Shaz and I had been through a lot together. We had known each other for years, since we were new wolves adjusting to life with a dual nature. So much had changed since then.
Nausea caused my stomach to turn at the thought of Shaz offering himself to a vampire. He got off on the rush. I knew firsthand how powerful it was. Most certainly addictive. One look around the place made that obvious. Because it was Shaz, his obsession was that much harder to swallow. I was the only reason that he’d ever experienced the wild ride of the vampire’s thrall, and I blamed myself.
Jez leaned across the table to touch the back of my hand lightly. “Don’t go getting all drunk on me now. I need you to fight Kale off if he’s developed a taste for leopard.”
Her gentle touch was a friendly gesture of support. I didn’t have to give words to my emotions. I appreciated her attempt at humor and forced a strained smile.
I stared into the golden whiskey. Lovely poison. I drank more often than I should, and though it didn’t affect me the way it did humans, it was still a source of escape. Of course, I’d much rather be losing myself in the promise of ecstasy found only in the kill. Tonight, whiskey would have to do.