Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel

by Gwen Mitchell

  “It must be a Cabal with connections inside the Cloak. I don’t know if I can trust the offer they’re making.” Julian sounded tired and frustrated.

  “You spoke to them?”

  “No, but I have it from a good source they want Alex alive. The Grigori want her more, though I can’t understand why. I thought they would want her eliminated, but they’ve even approached the Cloak wanting to negotiate for her.”

  “Will you tell her?”

  There was a whisper of fabric, and then Julian’s voice came again, from another direction, as if he were pacing. I inched back from the door, afraid he would get close enough to pick up my scent, but I kept my ears keened to what was going on inside the room.

  He sighed. “She won’t understand. She’s already so…”

  “Julian,” Monique chided, “you cannot protect her from what she is.”

  “I know,” he grated.

  “Look at you. Look at what this is doing to you. Why? How do you know this isn’t an elaborate—”

  “No.” His clipped tone breached no compromise.

  Monique’s breath soughed out, and there was a long silence. Before I even thought about what I was doing, I leaned to the side and peered into the narrow strip of light from the cracked door. Julian stood with his back to me, facing the wall. Monique crossed the room and stood behind him. Her dainty hand slid up the wide slope of his back.

  The image blurred. I blinked back tears.

  “Just think on it, mon amour,” Monique whispered. “What do you know of this girl? The Cloak wants her, at any cost. What if they would be willing to pay with his freedom?”

  I took in a sharp breath, and then tensed, afraid they’d heard me.

  Andreas.

  Julian’s head lowered, and he turned slightly to look at Monique over his shoulder. The glimpse I caught of his expression was anguished, and squeezed my chest. An urge rushed up in me, to comfort him, to make that pain disappear. But I may as well have been worlds away.

  “The Cloak will do anything to have her, and even more to keep her from the Grigori. Can you do any better? What will you do, hide forever? This is the chance you have sought. You can have Andreas back. It can be like it was before between us.” She smoothed her hand down one side of his face and wrapped her other arm around him, pulling him close.

  Julian eased against her, still silent.

  My face twisted in an effort to keep my tears in check. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing or hearing. The world was spinning back and forth like a broken record, replaying that moment over and over, making my stomach heave.

  Monique’s voice came again, low, cajoling. “You have not seen to your own needs, my love. How long has it been?”

  Julian didn’t answer, only buried his face under a curtain of her black hair.

  “Too long.” She undid the top two buttons of her blouse. “Drink, mon amour. We can decide the rest later.”

  Julian lifted his face away from her, though he pulled her closer. Monique sifted her hair to one side, baring her neck. With his eyes pressed closed, Julian leaned down and sank his fangs into her.

  I didn’t stay to watch.

  I kept my jaw clamped shut to keep from sobbing as I rummaged through my room, throwing things into a satchel. Three bottles of blood, some shampoo and a toothbrush, and my manual — everything I had to my name. I pulled on my jacket and spun out the door without looking back. As long as I kept moving, the shock and pain of everything I’d just witnessed wouldn’t have time to sink in.

  What the hell is the matter with me?

  Once again, my feelings had blinded me to the truth. Why would Julian be so willing to risk so much for a pain in the ass like me? He needed me for something — plain and simple.

  I tried to keep it from hurting, to hate him for using my biggest flaw against me, but I couldn’t blame Julian, not entirely. I had wanted so much to believe what he told me. I had wanted this time to be different, and against my better judgment, I had let myself count on him.

  It’s time to start counting on yourself.

  To let my head guide me, instead of my weak-ass heart.

  Confusion and disbelief got me through the first few corridors. Then my fury set in, and my strides lengthened. How could I have been so wrong? So stupid? I could have walked through a wall. Instead, I just sent Carl sprawling when he stepped right in front of me just yards from the exit. The look on his face when he sat up was a mixture of fear and desperation.

  My muscles knotted with tension, but I didn’t move. I wanted to throw myself at him, to cry and be comforted, to beg his forgiveness. And I wanted to rage at him for being the one who was there, offering me everything I wanted, and being the wrong person.

  He scrambled to his feet. “Where are you going?”

  “Away,” I answered, my jaw set. I tried to shoulder past him, but he grabbed me and spun me around.

  “Carl, please.” I turned my face away. I couldn’t bear to see the pain in his eyes. It would undo me. The little bit of a life I’d managed to scrape together since my other one had ended was shredded to thin, unraveling ribbons. I felt like my anger was the only thing keeping me together. If I let him take it away, I would just come apart.

  It always ends like this.

  “No,” Carl's deep voice echoed down the hallway. He dug his fingers into my arms. “You’re not leaving here alone. I’ll go with you.”

  I glanced up at him then, and his eyes were wild, panicked. His heart was pounding, reverberating through me like a bass drum. For an instant I considered it. He would never leave me, never betray me. But I couldn’t ask him to follow me where I was going. I didn’t even know where that was, but I knew being with me was likely to get him killed. I wouldn’t survive the guilt if something happened to him. I was a danger to all of them. It was better for everyone if he just let me go.

  I shook my head, and before he could issue another argument, I wrapped both hands around his neck, yanked him down to my level, and kissed him. It was deep, and hard, and desperate. A goodbye kiss. He still tasted like fresh spring rain, and I almost didn’t want to let him go.

  But I did.

  “Don’t make me knock you out. You know I’ll do it,” I said, breathless. Then I reached up and tore the collar from around my neck. Carl stood there with a stunned look on his face, as I tucked it into his hand.

  “Please tell everyone I’m sorry.” I turned and ran up the stairs. I didn’t look back. When I reached the top landing, I sent a thrust of power out in front of me, and the heavy metal door flew open with a crack. I bolted through it and lost myself to the night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I ran through the rain for a long time. Like a bird loosed from a cage, I didn’t have any direction but away. I had never really tapped into my Undead capabilities, but as my legs stretched on tirelessly, I thought I could run forever. And I wanted to.

  Keep running until it stops hurting.

  I leapt over puddles and curbs with a grace I’d never had while living. If I hadn’t been so brittle and numb on the inside, I might have enjoyed it. The air wasn’t fresh, but after being cloistered and listless for several days, the act of movement freed me. I wove and turned, streaked down alleys, and zigzagged between buildings, determined to make it as hard as possible for Julian to track me.

  If he would even bother looking.

  But of course he would. I was his golden ticket.

  My eyes stung and my vision blurred. I finally slowed and threw myself against the side of a rusted warehouse door, a sob strangling out of me.

  How could he do that to me? How could he make me believe him so much? How could I be so wrong about what I felt? Julian didn’t want me for me — who would? I wasn’t worth the trouble I caused.

  Clearly, as my mother and therapist suspected, there really was something wrong with me. I just had no sense when it came to men that I wanted. I always wanted the wrong ones. It should be a recognized disability for all it had scr
ewed up my life. Now my life was over. The un-life I thought I wanted was a lie. Anyone who came in contact with me was in danger. That was my life in a nutshell: unwelcome everywhere, safe nowhere.

  Antsy, I started moving again, this time with direction. I needed to find something public, blend in to a crowd. That was as far as my plan extended. I tucked my piddly supply of blood under my arm and crammed my hands into my pockets. Avoiding detection was a given. But what then? Get lost. Disappear. Maybe I could find some hunky millionaire, make him my blood slave, and get swept away to Tuscany. Start over.

  Alex Moore, immortal heiress extraordinaire, and her spectacular fire-writing trick.

  Inspecting the grungy grey buildings towering over me, I thought that was about as likely as pulling a new identity out of thin air. Maybe less likely. One colorful sign swung up ahead — wood painted green, with a harp and O’Doyle’s in gold lettering.

  I ducked under the awning. A neon Guinness sign flickered in the window, and the wall of bottles lining the back glinted from the shadows. The pub was boisterous as I stepped inside. The clang of the bell signaling my entrance was lost in a chorus of groans as most of the patrons fixated on replays of a football game. The scent of the room was distinctly male, which I confirmed by hesitant glances at the sea of plaid shirts and holey jeans.

  “Figures,” I muttered under my breath. Of all the places to run to, I had to find the unemployed loser’s happy hour at O’Doyle’s. So much for Plan A.

  I stuck out like a sore thumb, and come commercials, I would be the center of attention. That left me about twelve seconds to get to the phone booth I spotted on the far wall. I edged my way through the beer-musky crowd, slinked behind the faux wood paneling, set my bag on the floor, and lifted the receiver.

  Who could I call? My mom came to mind, but I froze on that thought and chewed on my lip. I didn’t want to get her involved in this mess. As long as I stayed away and kept her ignorant, she should be safe. At least, according to Julian. Could I really believe him though? Maybe I should warn her. I slammed the receiver back down. The coins inside jingled. I knocked my forehead against the box. Think, Alex.

  “Need some change, beautiful?” said a slick voice behind me.

  My eyes snapped open. I turned slowly, unsure if I really wanted my vision to confirm what my ears were telling me.

  “Cody?” I fell against the wall behind me when my knees turned to water. I managed to make it look like I meant to do it, and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

  He gazed down at me, mildly amused.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Sweetness.” He leaned one arm on the doorjamb, effectively trapping me. “After I’ve been looking for you for so long, you don’t even give me a hello kiss?”

  My lip curled. “You’ve been looking for me? Really? Was that before or after you found out the price on my head?”

  Arrogant, lying bastard. I wanted to spit in his face.

  “There’s a price on your head?” He blinked down at me, his cornflower blue eyes just as mesmerizing as ever.

  And just as misleading.

  The snake that gave Eve the apple. I had followed him straight into hell.

  “You really don’t wanna screw with me, Cody,” I said. “You’ll get hurt.”

  He sighed and bent his head so low it was almost resting on my shoulder. “Lex,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. Really. I just wanted us to be together. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. When the Cloak summoned me, I got spooked. I didn’t know you’d turned until I heard that Knight had kidnapped you and gone Rogue. I’ve been looking for you since.”

  “Why?” My initial adrenaline rush at seeing Cody’s ghost was draining away, leaving me full of bitter confusion that was determined to leak out my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry for him, though. Not one more fucking tear. He was last person I wanted to see just then — a reminder of everything I’d done wrong. And the fact that I felt nothing, no stirring of my old feelings, made the sting I felt over Julian that much worse.

  “I want us to be together. I want to have you, Lex. I’ve always wanted you. I can protect you, I promise. The Cloak will let us be together.”

  I shook my head. He had to be lying. Maybe Julian had misled me about his plans, and maybe he’d even been lying that the Cloak and the Grigori wanted me dead. But he hadn’t been lying to Monique. I was a precious commodity, and now I knew it. There was no way they would just let Cody keep me. It was too perfect. And why else would he want me all of the sudden? He’d been quick to bail before…Something was wrong.

  Until I knew what, I was stuck. So, I shoved down my instinct to knee him in the balls and bolt, and instead relaxed against him. He snaked an arm around my waist to hold me closer. I put a false stutter in my voice. “What are you saying, baby?”

  “I can sponsor you. We can make a life together,” he purred in my ear, then brushed his lips down my neck. My spine tingled, but not with familiar wanting. Something definitely felt wrong, but it eluded me, a phantom sensation I couldn’t hang on to.

  Cody pulled back from me with a wicked smile, and then kissed the tip of my nose.

  He’d never done that before.

  I furrowed my brows and examined him closely. There wasn’t an eyelash out of place. Everything was the same. It was Cody’s eyes that looked at me with his usual heated malice, Cody’s lips that whispered all the right things. Everything I secretly wanted to hear from someone — just not him. He told me everything I wished I could believe, like he’d read the aching lines carved into my heart.

  His lips brushed over mine, and there was a split second of hesitation, a flutter of unsurety. Then something else registered: he smelled wrong. Cody had always smelled like cigarettes and sweat. The scent infusing my senses was older, cleaner, like powder and citrus. I was glad I didn’t have a heartbeat to give away my anxiety. I wrapped my arms around his neck and met his lips.

  Cody’s lips, but not Cody’s kisses.

  What the hell is going on?

  I pushed us back until he thumped into the narrow hallway’s other wall. I didn’t like feeling pinned. His hands slid up my sides under my jacket, the same hands, but too gentle. Definitely not Cody.

  Without time to think it all the way through, I went forward on impulse. Some stranger was trying to trick me by impersonating my ex-boyfriend. My skin prickled with a chill of warning. Here I was in — well, I didn’t know where I was — but someone who knew my deepest secrets had me cornered there. The only thing I had going for me was they didn’t suspect I was onto them. So, I kept up the act to buy time.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” I said between kisses.

  “Mmm,” not-Cody mumbled, yanking me forward again. I put on a decent show. It didn’t hurt that whoever was kissing me was wearing Cody’s delectable mouth, and knew what he was doing. It had to be a he. Only a man would think a woman wouldn’t spot an imposter from his kiss. Desire spiraled up around the spikes of fear shooting through me, and the mixture was enough to trigger what I recognized as a primitive Undead instinct, another tactic I’d forgotten was in my arsenal.

  “Do you really mean it?” I blinked up at him, making my eyes wide and trusting.

  “Yes, baby.” His hands slid down to rest on my ass. “I even have somewhere we can go.”

  Yeah, that was gonna happen. I wondered how long he would keep up the farce. Would he fuck me first, before he sold me to the highest bidder?

  Creep.

  “How about right here?” I twined my fingers in the hair on the back of his neck. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Let’s go somewhere private,” he urged, looking smug.

  “You never minded public before.” I reached between us to rub the front of his jeans and run my fingers under the hem of his shirt, along his stomach. It was enough to tell me I really had put on a good show. He — whoever he was — was turned on. Even though I hated admitting how my own body was responding, I decide
d I could use that too. Press my advantage, try to catch him off-guard.

  “I’ve never wanted you this much before.” He forced my hand away and squeezed my wrist.

  I made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a purr, then fixed him with a glare, equal parts challenge and invitation. Arousal permeated the air between us. My skin heated up. I was thankful, for once, that my body didn’t have to agree with my mind.

  Mr. Imposter responded by pulling me harder against him and crushing our mouths together. This time I didn’t think about who he was, only about how he felt. There was a hunger there, for control, for possession, that hit buttons for me. I focused on that, drew off of it.

  I wasn’t an expert by any means, but three days trapped in a small space with a blood donor had given me some useful experience. I pushed all of my desire at him, like dousing a campfire with lighter fluid. His temperature rose as I licked behind his ear and scraped my fangs along his neck.

  Cody wouldn’t have a heartbeat, but there was one. I didn’t hear it so much as feel it, a dull ache on the back of my tongue. My fangs prickled and lengthened. As my blood thirst surged up and filled my head with a red haze, I thought, this is a better plan than running. Take control. Turn the tables. I was thirsty for fresh blood, angry, and scared. Thanks to my new instincts, that all added up to hot and bothered as hell. I didn’t have to fake it. I wanted this — to feel the strength his blood would give me.

  He was too carried away on the wave of pheromones to resist.

  I rubbed against Cody’s delectable body, writhed under his eager hands, and worked us both into a frenzy. No more complaints about privacy. I lifted my head and pulled my lips back, bearing my fangs to the light. The imposter went almost limp in my arms, sinking down the wall. The heartbeat that shouldn’t have been there burst to life under my hand as I gripped his throat. I squeezed, leaning closer.

  His heartbeat sped up. He didn’t fight me, couldn’t. Even though I could have torn his throat out, he would have leaned against the wall with a stupid lopsided grin on his face. Had I been so weak? So easy?