If she could reason with Lycos, it would be in his best interest to make a show of good faith to return the boy to Deane. Maybe it would affect the Society’s decision.
Verity had every reason to detest her father. He was a vile man whom she hated. Yet she didn’t want to see him or any of her kin destroyed. Not while she had reason to believe that if they understood the circumstances, they’d leave the shifters alone once and for all. Lycos had always been almost fearful of drawing attention to their kind. And he adored Dolan and Nissa, the offspring of his beloved wife. He’d want to keep them safe.
“I’m unwilling to risk ye falling into his hands.” Deane interrupted her thoughts. He stepped closer and held her eye. He started to raise his hand to her cheek, but lowered it after glancing at his partner, who was watching.
Verity could see how serious he was. Her heart ached, seeing the affection in his eyes; however, she’d never been one to allow herself to be penned. She was beginning to have feelings for him, however—how could she live with herself if she didn’t do what she knew was right?
Marisol had remained silent long enough. She tucked her long black hair behind her ear and said in an undertone, “I am not a fighter, it’s true. I’m nothing like my cousin. Everyone thinks I’m a sweet little girl, and maybe I am. You can try to send me away, but I’ll just come back. I’m too small to stop. Riley is my friend, and I won’t turn my back on him when he needs me.”
A deep frown marked Deane’s forehead. “Too small to stop?”
“You should know—it was by luck you found me. I can hide anywhere my skull can fit through.” Marisol lifted her chin.
Verity had to give it to her. The girl had a defiant streak just like Verity. She was a cute little thing. Every bit as loyal as you would want in a friend. If only Riley knew.
The smell of sausages began to fill the air. Verity might not have found it appetizing, but Emery’s nose lifted as she grabbed her stomach. “I’m starved. Why don’t we eat first and argue later?”
“We don’t have the time for any of this.” Deane threw his hands in the air. “We can eat, but then we need to do some recon. Find out if Riley’s even at Lycos’s.”
Marisol inhaled and seemed prepared to continue to convince Deane of her merit when he closed his eyes and sighed. “Ye can help.” He quickly flipped his lids open and pointed a finger in her direction. “Only if ye do what I say and keep yerself out of trouble. Riley wouldn’t thank ye if ye got yerself killed trying to rescue him.”
A slight grin played at Marisol’s lips, and she looked proudly at Verity, who pulled her into a side hug. She was beginning to like the girl. Verity followed them down to the main level of Martin’s home and did her best swallowing a modest portion of dinner so as not to seem out of place. It tasted disgusting, though the others seemed happy enough eating the meal. Deane sat beside her, keeping an uneasy eye on her while she ate. She wasn’t sure if it was because he knew she was wishing it was a fresh cup of blood or if he knew the disagreement between them hadn’t actually been settled.
Under the table, Verity placed her hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Just like any wise woman, she knew the best way to distract her man.
With reservations, Deane climbed into the car with Emery, Verity and Marisol. He would have preferred going with only his partner, but Verity knew everything there was to know about Lycos’s property. And having a shifter along who could take the form of a bat was admittedly useful, even if he’d owned his pants longer than she’d been alive.
Verity gave him the address, and he put it into his phone’s mapping. He followed the directions out to Half Moon Bay, a forested coastal town south of San Francisco. The sun had gone down, and the stars were visible as they wound their way along a quiet road away from the trendy appeal of the coastline. The grassy hills were carpeted with windblown cypress trees, and the farther they climbed away from town, the more rural it became.
Deane turned down a narrow road and looked at Verity sitting beside him in the passenger seat. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. Her complexion had paled. He reached out and touched her arm. “How are ye?”
“Fine,” she answered a little too quickly. Verity’s eyes held fast to the road ahead. “You can go a little farther, but you should park at the start of the wooden fence. Lycos has security cameras that will see your headlights coming if you go beyond that point.”
He didn’t shake his focus from her. He could tell she was upset. This place held many bad memories for her. Another good reason he shouldn’t have brought her.
Verity turned her head and blinked at him. A smile crept onto her lips, and she took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’m okay. Really. I just never thought I’d come back here.”
Deane wasn’t swayed after her assurances. However, they weren’t at leisure to deal with it now. Time was of the essence. He had no idea if Riley would remain unharmed with his relatives, and then there was the matter of the Grand Consul. If they concluded vampires should be eradicated, then Riley and Verity needed to get stowed somewhere safe.
A roughly hewn wood fence began. It appeared to have seen decades of rain and wind. Deane slowed down and came to a stop at a turn out. He squinted through the window at the road ahead. He couldn’t see any sign of a home.
“It’s up there.” Verity seemed to read his mind. “If you follow the road to its end.”
He nodded and faced the back seat where Marisol was sitting next to Emery. “Sorry, partner, but I think a bear might draw more attention than we want.”
Emery shrugged and patted Marisol’s knee. “Okay, remember what we went over? Try to find an opening to fly through and do everything you can to stay out of sight. Your job is to find out if Riley’s there. Come back if there’s trouble or as soon as you locate where he’s being held. Got it?”
The young shifter may have seemed full of strength earlier, but now she seemed a bit timid. She’d shrunk back against the seat and was wringing her hands.
Verity blinked at her. “You can change your mind, sweetheart, and stay with us while we wait for Deane.”
“Um—” Marisol took a deep breath.
Deane would rather the girl stayed. Too many people had been hurt in this mess already.
“I’m going. Just have some preperformance jitters.” The young woman grinned nervously and sat forward in her seat. She slipped off her shoes and began to pull down the pair of leggings Verity had lent her, which were too loose on her.
Deane turned off the engine but left the keys in the ignition and got out of the car. Verity followed him out and joined him at the back hood. He started unbuttoning his shirt and she helped. The feel of her fingers on his skin made him wish they weren’t there for a rescue mission.
She leaned in to touch her cheek to his and whispered in his ear, “Good luck. Come back safe to me.”
He pulled away to gaze into her shadowed eyes. “Aye, there’s nothing I’d rather do.”
Verity leaned in and grazed her lips against his. A hunger deep within Deane was awakened, and he pulled her against him as his mouth danced hungrily down her jaw and neck. Panting, he stopped and closed his eyes. “What have ye done to me, woman? I’m a weak fool at yer touch.”
“No,” she whispered back. “You’re the kind of man I never knew existed.”
He growled in her ear, and she giggled in response. Verity glanced aside. Two pairs of eyes were watching them through the rear window of the car. She pulled away. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Deane exhaled. It wasn’t anyone else’s business what he did in his private life. He’d always tried to keep a clear line between work and… well, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t have a private life. Only a past he wanted to put to rest. Maybe, just maybe he’d punished himself long enough.
He felt their audience’s attention as Verity started walking away. Tossing all cares aside, Deane spun her around by her arm and held her close. Then he started dancing with h
er, dipping her at her waist.
She started giggling and draped her arm around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Just reliving the other night at the bar.”
He lifted her to her feet and spun her away from him. He let go of her hand and watched her return to the front of the car. Deane tapped the back window, getting Marisol’s attention. “Follow me.”
He finished undressing and called to his powers. Energy surged through his cells, transforming him from a man to an owl. Deane flapped his wings, lifting himself into the air. He glided down to land on a post in the wooden fence. From his perch, he watched the back car door open, and a tiny form flew out.
Deane didn’t hesitate in taking to the skies. He rose above the dark shapes of the twisted cypress below and followed the gentle curve of the road. He didn’t have to see Marisol to know she was behind him. He could sense her.
Ahead of them, nestled at the end of a long avenue of cypress trees, was an enormous estate. A tall stone wall enclosed the decadent home and gardens, and an iron gate prevented any unwelcome guests from entering. Warm light poured from its windows, illuminating the manicured grounds in angular panels of light. Deane glided down to perch on a wooden arbor at the far end of the gardens. Moments later, Marisol’s small body landed beside him.
He turned his head, noting all of the security cameras mounted around the property. Mundanes never minded an owl perched outside their home, though these vampires were aware of shifters and might be wary of animal visitors, so he didn’t want to chance going any nearer. Deane blinked at the bat beside him.
It tipped off the perch, and its small body moved quickly through the air. He tried keeping track of it as it flew around the home, but soon lost sight of it. Deane resolved to wait.
He heard classical piano music from the back of the home. From where he sat, he thought he saw a kitchen through large windows along the rear, adjacent to a lap pool that stretched parallel to the garden, just as Verity had said. According to her, bedrooms filled the upstairs, and a series of living spaces took up the ground floor. Deane hoped Marisol would be able to find a way in.
He had no concept of time as he perched, waiting for her. Had he been a quarter his size, he might have been able to snoop a bit closer, and he wouldn’t have needed Marisol’s help. His patience wore thin, wanting to know if Riley was there. If he was safe.
Memories of the lad near death plagued him. Only a month ago he’d refused his father’s help, along with the human blood that had been offered to him. Deane respected his foster son’s principles, but he hoped Riley would do whatever it took to survive. He’d grown attached to the kid. Hell, he loved him. There was no chance Deane would allow another child to be taken away from him.
Eternity had come and gone an hour ago, and Deane was still waiting when something brushed against him, nearly sending him off his perch in surprise. His heart racing, he blinked down at the fuzzy bat clinging to the wood. Marisol’s wrinkled snout pointed up at him.
He couldn’t wait any longer to find out the news she had to share. Deane flapped his wings and took to the air, racing back over the cypress trees. His eyes scanned the roadside, searching for their car, until finally he spotted the silver smudge from the sky and started his descent.
Eighteen
Deane pulled on his trousers, zipping them up in a hurry. He’d seen the small flying form swoop into the car through the open door. He collected his shirt from the back hood and pulled it on. Not bothering with buttoning it up, he opened the driver’s side and got in.
He didn’t turn around to look into the back seat, wanting to give Marisol time to get dressed if she wasn’t covered yet. He sensed Emery moving around, holding up a piece of clothing for the young woman. Unable to wait any longer, he asked, “Well? I couldn’t see anything from where I was, but did ye?”
Marisol cleared her throat, and her voice came out muffled. “I saw him. One of the upstairs windows was open enough for me to get inside, and I flew around, clinging to the ceilings and peeking under doors until I found him.”
“Is he okay?” Verity turned in her seat to focus on Marisol.
“For now.” The car jostled with movement as the girl finished getting dressed. “He’s being held in one of the upstairs bedrooms. A man was talking with him, threatening him. A glass of blood was sitting on the side table. The man seemed pretty angry that Riley hadn’t touched it.”
“Damn it, Riley,” Deane muttered. The boy was going to get himself into trouble, defying his captors like that. There was such a thing as silent compliance.
“Lycos,” Verity whispered. “It had to be him. Did he have long dark hair and piercing blue eyes?”
Deane looked through the rearview mirror. Marisol was wearing one of Verity’s shirts. Her eyes were wide, and she nodded. “Yes. He hates him—Riley. I could see it in his eyes. Oh, and the house is being packed up. Lycos said they’re leaving on Friday and that Riley has until then to obey and show proper respect or he’ll be disposed of.”
Marisol’s lips trembled, and she dropped her face into cupped hands. Emery put her arm around the girl and met Deane’s gaze. His neck and chest were so tight, it was hard to breathe. He exhaled slowly while his mind took over.
“That’s in two more days.” He stared at the dashboard clock. It was past ten. It had taken them an hour to get to Lycos’s from Martin’s place. They’d been driving for days to get there and none of them had gotten proper sleep. “Let’s get back. We need rest before puttin’ together an extraction plan. We’ll need to be on our toes if we’re going to rescue Riley by Friday.”
It sounded reasonable. It sounded like the wise thing to do, so why did it physically hurt so bad when he turned the car around and started driving away? Deane’s knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.
Verity reached out and touched his hand. Reluctantly, he released his right hand from the wheel to intertwine his fingers with hers. He took a deep breath and caught sight of the Pacific Ocean glimmering in the moonlight beyond the hills.
“We’ll get him back,” she whispered beside him. She sounded certain, resolute.
Deane hoped she was right.
The vaulted ceilings looked different in the dark. Deane stared up at the rafters with his hands folded behind his head. Martin’s couch was comfortable, and he was exhausted as he was. But as soon as he lay down, his mind got loud. All he could imagine was Riley, sitting in confinement, waiting for the end to come.
It infuriated Deane how poorly the boy had been treated by Ramsay, and now Lycos. Riley wasn’t suited for this kind of life. It was a strange kind of condemnation to be forced to prey upon the life force of living beings. Blood. He wasn’t sure if he would have handled it much better than Riley if he’d been put in the same situation.
His mind never strayed from his foster son through the night. Upstairs, Emery was sharing a guestroom with Marisol, and Verity was sleeping in the other. Deane was relieved Martin was such a private person who didn’t like getting involved with others’ problems. It meant he didn’t have to explain himself to his host or worry about pulling him into Deane’s potential retribution from the Grand Consul when they found out about his unsanctioned activity.
There was a lot for Deane to think about. And all of it was swarming his thoughts. He still hadn’t heard word if the Grand Consul had come to an agreement regarding the vampires. He wasn’t even sure if Alaric would tell him after their last conversation. Although if Cruz was in the loop, Deane hoped the lodge leader would send him word.
The morning sun filtered through the skylights, announcing the coming of a new day. Thursday. Deane’s eyes parted, and he stared up into Emery’s smirking face.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
His partner had already put on her signature red lipstick, along with her bright bandana. A skintight black top covered the curves of her chest, as well as her tattooed cleavage.
Deane straightened up and groaned. He mus
t have fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. “No, barely caught a wink.”
Clanking sounds came from Martin’s kitchen in the rear of the building. Deane pulled the blanket from his body and stood up. Emery looked at him sideways.
He was wearing his undershirt and a pair of boxers. Deane returned her stare. “What ye gawking at?”
She shrugged. “If you weren’t sleeping anyway, I would have thought Verity’s bed would have made for a more enjoyable sleepless night.”
“Mind yer own business,” Deane mumbled as he watched the blond vampire walk out of the upper bathroom and descend the floating stairs.
Verity’s expression was sober and serious, and when she came up to him, she offered a gentle smile that only touched her lips and didn’t travel to her eyes. She was consumed with just as much fear and anxiety over Riley as he was, he could tell.
Martin set a plate down on his dining table and called over to them, “Breakfast, if you wish.”
Emery’s eyes widened, and she hurried over. “You know the way to my heart.”
She rubbed her hands together while she stared at the cold cuts, cheese, bread and vegetables. Emery picked up a slice of salami and popped it in her mouth. Their host adjusted his glasses while he watched at her.
Emery grabbed a plate and loaded it up. “You get off watching people eat or something?”
Martin stepped back and averted his eyes. “I apologize. It has been a fascination of mine, studying shifter behavior to see how they correlate with their animal halves.”
Emery sat down beside Marisol, who was staring into the distance. The enforcer loaded up a slice of bread with a bunch of meat and cheese and took a bite. With her mouth full, she waggled her open-faced sandwich at Martin. “Whatever floats your boat, dude.”
Half-Blood Secrets: A Paranormal Series (Half-Bloods Book 2) Page 23