by J. C RIMELL
Okay then.
“I'm going up to my room.” Kit said, turning to leave, only to stop when the scratching friction of the scouring ceased and her aunt sobbed, a cry catching the back of her throat. “Jo?” Kit approached the woman who was always so strong. Kit couldn't even remember when she'd last seen her aunt cry.
“Oh, Kit! I was so worried.” Her yellow-gloved hands clutched into fists at her chest. “I thought. I thought―”
Kit rushed over and embraced her at once. “No, I'm fine. It's okay,” she reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically. God only knew how she must have felt when she'd found out about her going missing. Jo was her friend and guardian and had been a tower of strength through all Kit's grieving as well as her own.
“I honestly thought I would have to call your momma and...” she cut off mid-sentence, her throat squeezed tight and her eyes were wet.
Kit waited until her sobbing subsided, then pulled back gently to look at her, tears brimming her own eyes and blurring Jo's image. “I'm here now and I assure you I'm fine. It'll be okay.”
She wanted to believe that she was fine. She wanted to believe that what had happened hadn't affected her. But even she wasn't fool enough to think she would be able to avoid seeing those images of his face. Those eyes, haunting her dreams for a very long time―if not forever.
Chapter Fifteen
On arrival, Cade could see Becker's Bar had been cordoned off with police tape. Two squad cars were parked at the front and the back of the premises while a couple of officers stood logging the human traffic in and out of what was now a crime scene, one of which he recognized.
“Hey, how's it hanging my man?” Cade slapped a hand on the cop's broad shoulder in a familiar greeting. He was one of the select few human officers that Henderson trusted and Cade knew him well.
“Good―you?”
Cade shrugged. “I guess. What's the crack?” he asked, his eyes wandering past the cop's shoulder in search of his cousin.
“Ah, Jessie discovered a dead guy in the ladies' room, she's pretty shaken up.”
Yeah, and wouldn't you just love to comfort her? Not that Cade could blame him. Half the guys in town had tried their luck with her and failed miserably. Damn, he would have to be straight with that female, it was no good for her to be waiting around for him. He and his wolf were clear there was only one woman they wanted, and she just wasn't it.
Cade caught sight of Henderson and he beckoned him over. Ducking under the tape he made his way to the entrance where the Chief of Police stood waiting.
“Someone local?” Cade asked as Henderson ushered him forward into the bar.
“No. But we don't have a full ID yet.” Henderson side stepped him before handing him some latex gloves and some white plastic covers to slip over his boots, then led the way past the bar and pool tables through the dining area. Cade glimpsed Jessie sat in one of the booths giving a cop her statement. Her mahogany eyes flicked over at him and softened as though his presence eased her, made her shoulders drop slightly as she relaxed a little. “I'll see you after,” he mouthed silently and flashed her a tender smile, happy when she nodded and smiled back.
The scent of stale blood and rotten flesh rose up into his nostrils and caught his attention. He'd picked up the identical smell off Kit. His wolf's hackles rose and Cade bared his fangs.
Fuck, this was him. An anger flared in the pit of his gut, pissed he'd been robbed of the chance to slaughter the bastard himself.
“Get a grip, Cade.” Henderson's hand squeezed his forearm. “Your eyes are glowing, buddy.”
Cade took a deep breath and got his head in the game. “I'm cool. Let's do this.”
The Scenes of Crime Officer looked up as the two of them approached. “I'm about done here,” he said, gathering up his evidence bags.
“What have you found Ken?” Henderson asked the SOCO, who was looking completely miffed. The guy's face was a map of intricate lines that stretched across his forehead and shot out from the corners of deep, green eyes that had clearly seen it all during his service.
Except this.
That was evident as he stared back at the two of them. As a New Yorker, Ken was well accustomed to homicides of varying degrees and wasn't the kind of guy to let things get the better of him.
“I've never seen anything like this.” Ken shook his head in a quandary. “There's no sign of a struggle, of impact, or use of a weapon. I need to do some further investigation. Get him to the morgue as soon as possible.”
Once the room was empty, Cade bent over the corpse to take a better look, but didn’t recognize the guy and figured perhaps he was from out of town.
“Do you have the scent?” Henderson asked him.
Hell, yeah. Good job the guy's already dead, or his wolf would've ripped him to fucking shreds. “Yeah, the same scent was all over Kit.”
“We also have a missing person report matching this description,” Henderson said holding up the iPad that flashed the dead guy's photo and stats. “Think it may be linked.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. “Here.” Henderson handed him a fax bearing the photo of a young blonde woman. “Make sure everyone on the team sees this. She was the last person who came in here and now she's missing.”
“Sure.” Cade stood back up, tucking the paper into the back pocket of his jeans. “Any chance you can get some of the samples sent over to Madoc?” he asked, following his tall, dark-haired cousin back into the bar.
Stopping, Henderson pivoted round. His deep, apple green eyes narrowed in contemplation, a hand resting on his holster after sweeping his jacket back out of the way.
“Has she found out anything about the Others, yet?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed.
“Nothing substantial, but she's still working on it,” Cade informed him.
Henderson ran a hand through his luscious mane before giving a clipped nod. “I'll see she gets what she needs. Tell Fleet, I'll be in touch.”
Cade's attention turned to Jessie as Henderson left. Now sat in the booth alone, he slid into the seat next to her and slipped an arm around her shoulder to offer comfort, like so many times she'd given him without her even knowing it.
“I'm glad you're here.” Her honey sweet voice quivered as she rubbed her arms briskly as if she was cold and trying to warm herself up.
He let out a sigh. Ah, hell. This would be a lot tougher than he thought.
“Me too,” he offered and felt more than a little awkward when she remained silent. “Hey, why don't I give you a ride home… hmm?” The least he could do was make sure she was safe after what she'd been through.
She nodded, and he caught the sparkle of expectancy that flashed behind her soft, brown eyes. “Thanks, I'd appreciate it.”
Christ, this would be way tougher. Cade cursed silently.
Chapter Sixteen
In the underground caves of a remote location that teetered on the edge of Wyoming, Leon waited with a burning flame licking the back of his throat. His coven was dwindling in numbers, and although he was trying to rebuild their population―which was not without many flaws―it was purebred females he specifically sought to quench his thirst.
The few pure ones who remained were in hiding. AWOL. Along with many others of his coven who had fled the fire that had destroyed his home. They knew well that refusing to return and serve their King meant they had signed their own death warrants. Leon's preternatural ability to track an individual's personal impression in the world would make it practically child's play. He would hunt them down eventually if only to make an example out of them.
Something caught his senses, brought him back to the present and beckoned his attention.
Sitting in his deep, Chesterfield chair, Leon unclasped the cufflinks on his shirt cuffs. Then watched with an intense craving as his queen entered his chamber.
Valerie's pungent and hypnotic scent of wild orchids preceded her. She was a pureblood and her lineage were of a wealthy, aristocratic vamp
ire family. Through the decades to this day, her bloodline remained undiluted. He was silently thankful for Valerie and the small circle of pure ones that still remained.
He undid his shirt with methodical precision, and his thoughts veered to the past once more. To when he had lived like a true King, with servants and pure-blooded virgins to feast upon at his leisure. Leon and his brother had left their homeland in France and settled in a castle perched on the border of a rural village in central, England. Being heavy with woodland, it offered abundant shade and thick camouflage for the high stone walls.
Now he was a prisoner, living like a rodent in an underground cave.
The expansive hunting lodge which stood at the base of high mountains and overlooked a vast lake was a mere facade added within the last century. Below they had created more rooms and escape routes so they'd never be trapped again.
They used the building well enough. It provided the modern technology they needed to keep up to date with the outside world. A single dirt track led to the property. Surrounded by tall, thick evergreens, they provided shelter from the occasional sunny days and supplied an array of wildlife for his coven to feed on. He snarled in distaste at yet another contemptible, dependency that had become increasingly necessary.
Leon had fled his fortress with only a few survivors of the fire that had roared through the halls and set ablaze to his kingdom, taking his brother with it. The loss of his sibling still caused his chest to tighten painfully. Simeon had been only half Leon's age.
The humans soon discovered what lurked behind the thick stone walls were creatures of the night that fed on the blood of their women, and foolish, human men. Then they came in their hundreds and torched the place until the sky was thick and gray, and the trees were burnt to cinders.
His kind was not easily killed, but fire if unable to escape it, was one sure way to end their immortal lives.
As was decapitation.
Leon stood up and slipped free of his shirt, letting the fabric fall to the flagstones. His muscles tensed, ticking against his skin while his throat ached with hunger.
He was sick of it. His plan of rebuilding his population was taking too long and there were many complications. The Ancient Walkers weren't ideal. They couldn't live long enough without new hosts to sustain them.
The other problem was only pure-blooded females could reproduce. This could happen every ten years in conjunction with a solar eclipse. Over the centuries, female vampires bedded the human males they fed upon, and the lineage grew weak. Once impregnated with human spawn, they were no longer considered pure. They could not service the pure vampire males, and more importantly, their King.
He still had a few purebred male vampires in his clan though none were of the same caliber as Leon. So while he never feared his supremacy over them, he remained vigilant. Only the strongest male could be King. Not a birthright, but a position won by the most powerful. They, too, were becoming restless and were not altogether comfortable with their new companions. Neither vampires, nor humans, but an oddity of ancient, supernatural beings that had existed even before they had.
“Sire?” His queen's voice cut through his cogitation and his dark gaze narrowed. The fire ablaze in his throat suddenly becoming his sole focus.
Valerie swept seamlessly across the cool flagstone of his underground chamber. It was lit only by candlelight that cast sultry shadows over the cold stone walls.
It's a tomb, she thought. One big tomb from where there was no escape, not for her at least. Yes, they were lucky, weren't they, those who hid? The females who would rather have an end to their immortal lives than be subjected to this torment.
Quietly she draped herself onto the mattress of the large, cast iron bed. Untying the knot of her red silk gown, she revealed her naked body, her nipples puckering against the cool air that crept across her skin. She propped her feet on the edge of the bed and let her knees fall apart to expose the core of her sex.
That's how he liked it.
There was no love, no tending to her needs, no preparing her for the hard thrust of penetration. She waited yet again for her King to take everything from her.
Her Blood. Her Body. Even what little remained of her soul.
“I am ready to serve you, sire.” She closed her eyes and felt her body tense for the abhorrent intrusion. A glacial chill slipped across her skin as he inched closer to the bed. A gasp leaving her lips as his rough grip tugged heedlessly on her thighs. Her mind swam away to clear waters and fantasies of a lover who would be kind and adore her. Make her feel alive, even though her heart was a rhythmless pulse in her chest. She had taught herself the escapism after the third night with Leon.
At twenty-one, Valerie had been so young in vampire years and easily persuaded by the strong and handsome male, who had just become King of their race. Like most of the pure ones, her parents were only too willing for their daughter to be of service to him. It was considered the highest honor.
Valerie had thought she was special. How wrong she had been. Now her King was not so handsome, and she was not so young and naïve.
Chapter Seventeen
It was late in the morning by the time Kit fell into bed. Having shut out the hazy sunshine with her blind, she lay in the darkened room listening as Jo left for the Café. She'd refused outright to allow Kit to go along and insisted that she stayed home and got some rest. Kit doubted sleep would fall upon her easily, it rarely ever did. Even with eyelids like lead weights, it couldn't prevent what lurked in her mind from rearing its ugly head. Those ice blue eyes had cut so deep into her psyche, they had left an open wound.
She fought to clear her mind, not just from recent images but from those of the accident too. Scars that marred and maimed her internally, ice and blood, screams and flames, which had left her an emotional cripple.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, she fluffed her pillow, plugged her ears with her iPod, and turned the volume up hoping it would help her think of something else. Serenity seemed so far out of reach. She tried harder to think of something comforting, something familiar.
She ended up thinking of Cade.
Deciding she needed the distraction more than ever, Kit pulled him into her mind. It was easy, she'd used his image as a diversion countless times from the moment he stepped foot into the café, and subsequently into her life. Even if it was at an unreachable distance.
With thoughts of him planted firmly in the front of her mind, she allowed the heaviness of her eyes to win over her obstinacy to stay awake, and welcomed Cade Grayson into her dream.
§
Cade led Jessie up the steps to her beach front house and waited for her to open the door before stepping inside. The sunlight flooded through the small windows of the property as he checked every room. Once he was satisfied she was safe, he opened the door to leave, only to feel Jessie's hand smooth over his shoulder.
“I'd feel safer if you stayed,” she said, her voice brushing past his ear, soft and low before placing a lingering kiss on the curve of his neck.
Shit! “Ah, Christ. Look, Jess.” He wheeled around to face her, damn, she was a mighty pretty looking lady. Her big brown eyes were soft and dewy, lightening their deep mahogany to shimmering amber. She'd never beg, that just wasn't her style. Hell, she wouldn't have to ask any man to stay, most would give up one of their balls to sleep with her. He had to come clean, but he felt like a bastard for doing it to such a great woman.
Before he knew it, Jessie's generous lips were covering his own and the animal inside of him lapped up the attention. Even though Kit was all he could think about and his wolf yearned for her more than anything else, it also had an itch that needed scratching on a permanent basis. His body responded automatically, an instinctive, visceral action that was damn hard to control. His cock had grown thick and hard as soon as he'd felt the sweep of Jessie's hot tongue trace the seam of his mouth and slip it between his lips, he'd opened willingly.
Stumbling, he moved forward still locked in a
kiss and pressed her up against the door, ran a hand under her short, denim skirt, between her silky thighs and pulled aside her panties. She was already slick with arousal and he couldn't resist slipping in a finger. Her leg came up and hooked around his waist while her hand fumbled with his belt and then his fly until his erection sprang forth and she gripped him possessively.
Oh, Fuck! Somewhere in his subconscious Cade knew this was wrong. But behind his closed eyes, this wasn't Jessie he was screwing around with, it was Kit. All he could see was Kit's face, imagined her feeling like this with him. And yet there was another side, a selfish, jealous side, that wanted no one else to be with Jessie either.
He took his finger from out of her wet core and pulled back slightly. God, what the fuck was he doing? Jessie's eyes were hooded and lustful and she rocked against him with need. If he were a better man, he'd be honest. He would have been straight with her a long time ago, and damn him to hell, but he couldn't allow himself to leave her like this.
Yanking open her cotton blouse, the buttons flew off hitting the wooden floor, and she gasped as he tugged down the cups of her bra to expose her full, mounding breasts. Dropping his head, he flicked his tongue across one deep, pink nipple and then the other, loving the way they puckered under his touch. She let out soft gasps and knotted one hand in his hair as her other stroked his shaft. His fangs had punched out and his eyes were luminous against her satin skin. He closed them tightly, lowering to his knees, she released him with a frustrated moan. Shoving up her skirt, Cade ripped the small piece of thin underwear, throwing the discarded fabric aside.