Hawk

by Rasey, Patricia A.

  * * *

  “Rosalee.”

  The voice on the other end of the line caught her off guard and kicked up her heartbeat a notch. She hated it when he used that tone with her. She knew whatever was about to come next she wasn’t going to like. She’d best tread lightly, for she had no idea if the old vampire even knew she’d left Italy. Due to the untimely call, she’d bet he at least suspected.

  “Yes, Stepfather?”

  “I’m surprised you finally decided to answer your phone.”

  The exasperation in his voice told her he was extremely annoyed with her. The ass no doubt knew by now she had skipped the country and was on a one-woman mission to no good, at least not for Kane and Kaleb Tepes. But nothing he said would change her mind. Kaleb would soon lose his head, an eye for an eye.

  “Where have you taken yourself off to?” The old man had actually tsk, tsked her. “And don’t think to lie to me, Stepchild.”

  So much for the false truth she was looking to save her ass from his wrath. Mircea knew damn well where Rosalee stood, or he wouldn’t have bothered himself to call her.

  “If I find out you withheld the truth, I will see you punished for going against my wishes.” He paused, no doubt more for dramatic effect than to catch his breath. The old bastard was healthy as a horse. “Even your mother won’t be allowed to speak on your behalf this time. Do I make myself clear?”

  Rosalee sighed. “All right. It’s not as if you don’t already know. I’m in the States.”

  She heard his deep sigh through the speaker of the phone. She could very well imagine the disapproval on his face. “For what purpose?”

  Rosalee grit her teeth. Her ire skyrocketed. The man was such a politician at times. He should have taken care of this six months ago. If he had, she would still be in Italy, being coddled by his staff and drinking the finest of wines. Instead she was running around the back woods of Oregon, chasing down a vampire that refused to die.

  “To do what you neglected to, Mircea.”

  If her stepfather had had any balls at all, Kaleb would have been tried, found guilty for his actions, and been beheaded long ago. Kane would have lost the one thing more precious to him than that damn detective he thinks to call mate … his twin. And Rosalee would have had her revenge, even if it cost her to be exiled from Italy for all eternity. Sometimes she really hated her stepfather. He could be such a pompous ass. But had it not been for him, she and her mother wouldn’t have had the chance at eternity. So for that alone she was indebted to him.

  “You allowed Kane and Kaleb Tepes to make you look weak. Someone needs to rectify that.”

  “So you make yourself judge and jury, thereby thinking to take Kaleb Tepes’ head as his penance?”

  “Yes.”

  She bit back the not-so-nice names she reserved for her stepfather. At the moment, her anger would gain her nothing. Now that Mircea knew where she was and her plan to kill Kaleb, she needed to assure the fact he didn’t send someone after her and try to stop her from seeking her revenge.

  “And if I order you back to Italy … to stop this foolhardy mission you’re on?”

  “I won’t return home, Mircea … until it’s finished,” Rosalee said. “You would be wasting your breath, old man.”

  “You know that I cannot give you my blessing. Kane already suspects that it’s you who’s behind these attempts at his brother’s life.”

  “Think I care?”

  “If you kill Kaleb,” Mircea’s tone rose, “Kane won’t stop until he finds and kills you.”

  Rosalee laughed, not feeling the humor. “You wouldn’t allow that.”

  “And what reason would I have to stop him.” Again he paused. “Or care for that matter?”

  “It’s written that to take a primordial’s life, is to bring certain death unto yourself.” Her jaw ached. The bastard had a way with bringing the worst out in her. She’d never understand what her mother saw in the pompous ass. “Have you forgotten your one cardinal rule? You put it into place so that you of all people could live out eternity without threat. If you allow Alec’s death to go unanswered, then what’s to say someday, someone might decide to end your existence?”

  Mircea stayed silent for so long, that at first she thought he might not answer her, then he said, “Alec acted on your behalf, not mine. He was on a fool’s mission, and as such, got what he deserved.”

  “So what are you saying, Stepfather?”

  “That if you decide to follow through with this asinine plan, then you will have to suffer the consequences should Kane decide to take your head as restitution for his brother’s. In truth, my wayward stepdaughter, he would’ve been in his right to do so following your son’s death. And yet, he returned you to me unharmed.”

  “His mistake,” she growled in response. “Are you sending someone to stop me?”

  “No.”

  “You realize then, that is as much giving me the okay.”

  “I’m telling you, dear stepdaughter, that should you accomplish your goal, I will not come to your rescue, neither will I allow your mother to. You’re acting on your own, and as such, you will face the consequences alone. I will not get involved in your petty revenge against my brother’s great grandchildren.” He paused. “Should Vlad ever surface and know that I sentenced his offspring to death, it would be an all-out war.”

  “He’s not shown himself in well over four centuries.”

  “His tomb was found empty.”

  Rosalee rolled her eyes. “If his ego is anything like yours, dear Stepfather, then he most certainly is dead. No way could the arrogant ruler not show his face in over four hundred and seventy years.”

  “If you do this, Rosalee,” she could hear the warning in his tone, “you will no longer be allowed to return to Italy.”

  “Then so be it.” Her smile grew. “Kaleb Tepes will die. I cannot allow Kane a moment of peace.”

  “Then be prepared to start a war with the Sons, of which I cannot be part of.”

  A true leader would stand with her. “You’re a coward, Mircea.”

  “Wise, my dear, never a coward. You’re a fool to think you can best a Tepes. You forget Vlad was my little brother, and he was feared for good reason. His offspring should not be underestimated.”

  “Duly noted, old man,” she said and hit the END on her cell.

  Rosalee smiled, knowing now that she would get no interference from her stepfather. The coward would never leave Italy to raise a hand against his brother’s offspring, for fear of retaliation from the feared ruler. She laughed. Vlad Tepes hadn’t surfaced or been heard from in centuries. The Impaler had died in 1476 at the tender age of thirty-five. He wasn’t about to just show up in Oregon to save his great grandson, far removed, from being beheaded.

  Chapter 19

  Cara and Joe Hernandez leaned against her black Charger in the parking lot of the Rave, waiting for their mark to arrive. The clubs doors opened promptly at eight every evening, even on Sundays. A quick glance at her watch told her that someone should be arriving soon. Hernandez stood beside her, arms crossed over his chest, looking pretty damned pleased with himself. Her partner had to know exactly what this interrogation would cost her.

  Kane would no doubt have her head. Cara had made a brief call to him, informing him that she would be working late. At the time, she had no idea that the person Joe had in mind was Draven, the Blood ‘n’ Rave’s elusive owner.

  Yep, she would be dead meat.

  The minute they left the club Draven would no doubt put a call in to Kane, asking him what the hell gives. Cara and Kane both used the Rave for donors. It was what Draven had given them, a place of anonymity to feed, women to provide that nourishment. Cara hoped to put in a request for male donors one day. Why should the men have all the enjoyment? Her sly smile at the thought was hard to contain. She doubted Kane would ever allow the petition. The look on his face, knowing she had asked, would be worth the trouble though. Cara needed to keep Kane on his toes, keep
him from getting complacent in their relationship.

  Now? She’d be lucky to live through the night. Figuratively of course. Cara knew Kane would never raise a hand to her in harm. But she’d certainly consider herself lucky if he spoke to her at all. Not to mention what the rest of the Sons would think.

  Yep, dead meat.

  The rumble of a Harley’s V-twin caught her attention, telling her of someone’s arrival, long before she caught sight of the black bike, red flames gracing the gas tank, pulling into the paved parking area. Cara recognized the barkeep, even before he removed his helmet. They hadn’t escaped his notice as his gaze swung to them briefly. Stepping over the bike, he tucked his skullcap under his arm as he removed a set of keys from his pocket and headed toward the side door of the building. Joe pushed off the car first, and walked at a clipped pace, no doubt hoping to head Draven off before he entered the building and forced them to knock, and possibly not gain an audience with him.

  “Draven,” he said, securing the man’s attention.

  Draven paused, booted foot between the door and the frame to keep it from closing. He barely gave her partner a glance before his gaze landed on Cara. “What the hell you want, copper?” he addressed Joe.

  As Cara came to stand beside her partner, Draven’s lips turned down, obviously pissed to see her in the company of the Sheriff’s Office. Cara hadn’t exactly advertised the fact she was back on the job. Word would soon spread.

  Joe broke the tension by clearing his throat and gaining Draven’s attention. “Just a few questions for you, if you have time.”

  Draven shrugged, opened the door wide and indicated with his hand for them to proceed him into the backroom. The barkeep followed them through the side door and flipped the switch, flooding the room with light. Running his hand through his longish dark hair, he then set the skull cap on an old vinyl and steel high top chair sitting beside the exit.

  Cara had never been in this part of the club before, never really had a reason to. Since Kane and some of the other Sons frequently used Draven’s upstairs office, she supposed he needed his own place to hang. The office upstairs was far more plush. A plaid orange and brown sofa bed sat along the back wall with a matching ottoman in the center of the small room. A tweed, brown chair that looked as if it had seen better days, graced the other wall. A scarred end table sat to one side with what looked like last night’s empty glasses.

  A dark walnut, pantry-style cabinet took up the entire wall across from the sofa bed, possibly containing extra bottles of liquor, or whatever might spill over from the storeroom behind the bar that Cara knew to be on the other side of the interior door facing them. The only other piece of furniture gracing the tiny backroom was a rolltop desk, with a worn black leather desk chair. The top had been left in the up position, papers and whatnot strewn in a haphazard fashion. If this was Draven’s private space, it didn’t appear as if he concerned himself with neatness.

  Draven placed one black booted foot on the steel round of the yellow vinyl chair by the door and crossed his arms over his knee as he leaned in and gave them his attention. “What sort of questions? Ones that I might need a lawyer for?”

  “You have a reason to need one, Draven?” Joe didn’t hide the smirk on his face. He baited the barkeep.

  “Why don’t you ask your questions, copper … then be on your way. I have a business to open.”

  Draven’s gaze went back to Cara, making her uneasy. She was pretty sure Draven was angry with her for not giving him a heads-up about their little visit, when in truth, she hadn’t known herself.

  “You know anything about drugs being dealt from your nightclub?”

  Draven’s expression remained unchanged, even though Cara knew for a fact Draven personally sold X to some of his customers. “Nope.”

  “You sure about that?” Joe rubbed his chin between forefinger and thumb. “I have it on pretty good word that you might.”

  Again, Draven’s gaze went to Cara before landing back on Joe. “I say your source is fucking lying. You got no proof. And unless you provide it, hit the door.”

  Great, now Draven thought she was the snitch. This couldn’t be going worse for her at the moment. And yet, she had no clue how to fix it. If she didn’t say something soon, she’d be lucky if Kane ever talked to her again.

  “Draven,” Cara said, hoping her eyes conveyed what her mouth could not, “no one mentioned your name. We need you to keep an eye on things, and if you see anything, promise you’ll call one of us.”

  Cara handed Draven her business card, which he took. Joe, on the other hand, nearly murdered her with his dark look. No doubt unhappy that she had all but excused the barkeep’s involvement. The “damned if you do and damned if you don’t phrase” stared her in the face. No doubt about it, either way she’d be damned for her association with the case.

  Draven looked at her business card, then tapped it on his raised knee. “I’ll be sure to do that. Now if you don’t mind—”

  “Look,” Joe said, “my partner may excuse away your part in this, but I don’t. Honestly, Draven, I think you’re in this up to your neck. I won’t go as far as saying that you are personally dealing the X from your club, but someone is and I think you know who that person is.”

  “As I said earlier, show me the proof. Now unless you have a warrant to search the place, I’d say it’s time for you to get the fuck off my property.”

  “We’ll be back. I’m far from done.” Joe squared his shoulders. “But just so you know, it’s not you I want to take down. You’re small time, Draven. I could care less what you do. I want the name of your supplier. You provide me with that, and I’ll cut you a break.”

  “Are you done?”

  Joe smiled. “Think about what I said. We’ll show ourselves out.”

  “You do that. Come back again and you best have a warrant.”

  “You call that number on Brahnam’s card if you have a change of heart and want to talk.” He winked at Draven, whose scowl blackened. “But until you do, know that we’re watching your every step.”

  Draven didn’t move a muscle as Cara exited the door behind Joe. Thanks to her partner’s closing statement, she’d be lucky if she were ever allowed in the front door of the Rave to feed. Cara shook her head as she followed Joe to her car. Shit just got complicated and Kane would no doubt let loose on her the moment she walked through the clubhouse door.

  * * *

  Kane paced the clubhouse. His gums ached with the need to unleash his checked anger. He wasn’t used to holding back. But where his mate was concerned, he needed all the self-control he could get at the moment.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  He knew her job meant nearly as much to her as he did, but she had just crossed the line. Maybe allowing her to go back to work had been a mistake from the beginning. Kane would have to tell the rest of the Sons, and certainly didn’t relish the idea, but first he needed to talk to his mate and see where the fuck her head was.

  A car door slammed and her scent hit him long before the door opened. Kane thanked his good luck that the rest of his brethren weren’t in residence at the moment. He needed some alone time, and not for his usual reasons. If Cara didn’t quit her job following this major fuck-up, he’d walk into Sheriff Ducat’s office himself and hand the bastard his mate’s badge. If she stayed, no way in hell the rest of the Sons would forgive her. Cara messed with their lives. They couldn’t very well live without their donors, and Draven had the power to take that all away.

  The door opened, and Cara walked through. His heart panged. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, wrap her in his protective arms to shield her from the oncoming shit-storm. If Kane knew about her actions, it wouldn’t be long before Kaleb did. His twin hadn’t liked Cara from the beginning, but seemed to be slowly softening where his mate was concerned. What a fucking mess she had just created.

  Cara paused inside the doorway, her blue gaze landing on his. He saw genuine fear in the ocean-blue d
epths. At least she had the decency to feel bad for her ultimate betrayal to the club. They’d never trust her again and this time Kane couldn’t say that he blamed them.

  Tears immediately spilled from her lashes. Kane opened his arms and she walked into his embrace. “I’m so sorry,” she said into the front of his tee.

  Kane smoothed his hand down her back. Hell, he couldn’t even get rightly pissed at her when she turned on the waterworks. He kissed the top of her blonde head, then inhaled the scent he loved so much. He needed to figure out how best to handle this situation, with the least amount of damage for everyone. His biggest obstacle in this mess would be Kaleb, no two ways about it.

  He gripped the sides of her head and tilted her gaze up. “You want to tell me what the hell happened so I can possibly help?”

  Her lower lip quivered. She pulled it between her teeth as though trying to hold back more tears. “I never meant for this to happen. I thought I could handle it.”

  “You should have come to me, mia bella.”

  “I couldn’t, don’t you see?” Another tear fell from her lashes to mix with the others already wetting her cheeks “Joe would’ve spotted the fact I told you the minute we questioned Draven. It’s probably why he never told me who he wanted to question tonight until we were already there. And by then, I couldn’t so much as warn you.”

  “Draven called.”

  “I knew he would.”

  “Look, I don’t approve of the drugs he deals from the nightclub. I’m not a big fan of the club drug. But other than the fact Draven provides us cover and manages all donors, I don’t give a rat’s ass what the man does in his spare time. You do understand, he can’t get busted for this, correct?”

  She gave him a quick nod.

  “If his club is closed down due to the drugs he runs through there, we’re all fucked. I supposed we could find another place, someone else to watch over the donors … but it would be damn inconvenient and take more time than we have to spare. I’ll make sure the drugs disappear from the club. You get the heat off Draven’s back. Is that understood?”