by J. M. Adele
I can’t take it anymore.
I want more.
Her legs scissored, pushing him away. He raised his head, licking his lips. His gaze flickered with blue and green sparks. He dipped his head again, kissing the insides of her thighs.
She lay spent, her heart fuller than it had ever been, and wanting to give him the loving he deserved in return. “What about you?”
“No, babe. It’s all about you tonight.”
Oh. My.
“I fucking hate that I can’t give you what you deserve. You should have big-ass bunches of flowers and dirty weekends away in five-star hotel rooms. I want you sleeping with me every night.”
Sounds like heaven to me. She brushed his hair away from his face, giving him a cheeky grin. “We can have a date night in. Wanna go eat ice cream and chill in front of a film? Or, you know, do bad things that would normally get us kicked out of the movies.” She licked her lips as her mind started wandering to all sorts of possibilities.
He coughed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
They didn’t leave the room all night.
Wait Up, What?
Shiloh took a seat next to Margo at the kitchen table. Through the windows, pink and orange streaked across the horizon as the encroaching night dimmed the blue sky. Coffee and cinnamon scented the stale air. Shiloh hooked a finger in the neck of her T-shirt and gave it a couple of tugs. How long had it been since she’d been outside?
“Any word from New York?” Please tell me they didn’t drag Lanie from the Hudson. “D-did they find my sister?”
“She wasn’t there, honey.” Margo patted Shiloh’s hand before reaching for her coffee.
Shiloh’s shoulders dropped. Thank God. She wanted to find her sister, but not floating face-down in a filthy river.
Where the hell are you, Lanie?
“But we’re pretty sure Jax was and now we finally have a place to search.”
It wasn’t much, but it was more than they’d had in a long time.
Hold on, Lanie. Please hold on.
Margo took a sip before continuing. “Ren commented that he’s getting sloppy. Something must have happened to cause him to have a blood orgy. The NYPD pulled seven bodies. Our insider said none of them were vamps. Whoever killed them didn’t intend on turning them.”
“How do you know? Maybe the killer was scared off.”
“True, I guess. But seven?” Margo’s brow bunched. “That’s a lot of digging. And once they’re reborn, their sire has to feed them all.”
Shiloh clasped her hands together. “What if it was more than one vampire?”
Margo shook her head. “Lock reckons it was definitely a single vampire. The bodies have been taken for autopsy. The wounds were almost all identical. The poor bastards were probably sightseeing and got more than they bargained for. He must’ve had help rounding up his prey.”
Shiloh tilted her head. “But why would he drink human blood if he had vampires available?”
“Maybe they were bonded. He would’ve needed help keeping seven humans immobilized for long enough to drain them. Vampire persuasion only works to a point. If a human senses mortal danger, all bets are off. There were no signs of a blow to the head, or abrasions from restraints. If he was in full bloodlust, he wouldn’t have had the patience to tie them up or knock them out, anyway. This has Jax written all over it.”
Shiloh spread her fingers on the table top, watching them as her thoughts churned. “What if he’d been starving, like someone had drained him too much? Would that cause him to have to drink so many to death?”
“Sounds legit. But he’s too smart to let anyone do that to him.”
What if she didn’t need to get close? What if her connection with him was enough that she could tap into it somehow and drain him? And if she could hurt him . . . could he hurt her too?
There was no way she could tell Margo what happened the night before. Not after Zain’s reaction. She hadn’t seen him since they’d come clean to Devlin. “Yeah. He was too smart before. But if he’s behind the slaughter of these people, he’s slipping. I want to go to New York.”
“Not a chance.”
“Lanie’s there somewhere.”
“We don’t know that.”
“If I get close, I’ll be able to feel him.”
“Honey, there is no way in hell Devlin, or any of us, for that matter, will let you within spitting distance of that son of a bitch.”
“I’m Lanie’s greatest hope. You’re risking her life to save mine when mine’s already over. It’s the stupidest . . . shit!” She pressed her fists into the sides of her head. “We have to play smart. Let’s remove the emotion and use our brains. Jax knows I can find him. He also knows you won’t risk me that way. So why don’t we do what he’s not expecting? I’m still here, so the bond isn’t broken. I want to be the one to break it.”
Margo whistled and shook her head. “If it was up to me, that speech would’ve had me buying you a plane ticket to the big apple, but honey, D won’t do it. Not ever.”
This is just fucked.
Letting her head flop back, Shiloh eyed the ceiling. What was it gonna take? They were letting Jax have all the power.
“I’m going for a swim.” The chair legs scraped on the floor as she stood.
“You sure you’ve got the energy?” Margo raised her brows, the hint of a smirk on her lips.
“I’m fine.”
“I bet you are. Anything else you want to share?”
Shiloh’s face flushed with heat.
“No words necessary, honey. That face says it all.”
She trapped a few curse words on her tongue as her eyes narrowed. Typical Margo. She was so blasé about the important things. Life. Death. Love. It was all a fucking joke, apparently.
“You know what, Margo? It’s none of your fucking business.” Shiloh headed for the door.
“Oh, come on! Devlin’s rubbing off on you.” She burst out laughing. “For real, I swear I didn’t plan that joke. But it was perfect.”
Fuck off. The woman did not know when to stop.
Passing through the exit, she saw movement at the far end of the hallway. Dark hair. That’s Sienna. She disappeared into the clinic. Shiloh followed, sticking her back to the wall beside the door. I’ll wait all damn night for her if I have to. Sienna had inside knowledge on the situation in New York. Shiloh wanted to pick her brain.
“. . . doesn’t know.”
“She’s unaware. I’m sure of it.”
Oh, shit, the door’s open a crack. I’d better give them some privacy. Shiloh peeled her back off the wall and took two steps.
“Good. Have we done another blood test since the incident?”
Incident? Shiloh froze before she about-faced.
“No. I won’t need another sample until twenty-weeks’ gestation.”
Um . . . gestation?
“I’d like another test now. I have a theory I’m trying to dispel.”
“Certainly. I’ll go by her room in the morning.”
“She’ll be in the east wing. He wants her with him for her last days.”
Holy fuck, they’re talking about me! Gestation? Are they talking about pregnancy? Last days?
“Don’t wait up for me tonight. I’ll be back in the morning. Keep me updated.”
“Of course.”
Shiloh scurried into the theatre room, gluing one eye to a tiny gap in the door. She counted to three. Sienna didn’t pass. Why didn’t she pass?
Opening the door wider, Shiloh risked a peek, catching sight of Carter vanishing under the staircase.
Was there a basement? A secret exit? Of course there frickin’ is. If they were under attack, they’d need a way to get out safely.
Shiloh backed up and closed the door, gliding to one of the chairs in a daze. Her palms covered her belly. Was there a baby growing in there? Her baby?
Jax’s baby.
Her stomach rolled.
Torn between amazement and disgust, she stared at her stomach feeling
a whole new level of empathy for Sigourney Weaver’s character in Alien. He’d planted his spawn. Was the baby the reason for her new abilities? If she was gaining power, was Jax able to tap into that, too? He’d gotten just what he wanted. He’d successfully stolen Devlin’s birthright . . .
And he wouldn’t need Lanie anymore.
Oh, my God. If he finds out, he’s going to kill her!
Shooting to her feet, Shiloh hustled to the door and flung it open. Shit! The cameras. Feigning composure, she walked up to her room and into the closet. She threw some clothes and supplies in her backpack and got into her warmest outfit. That scarf from her mom was going to come in handy after all. Mom, Dad, I hope you’re okay. I’m going to bring her home. She’d have to bolt at full speed if she had any hope of avoiding the cameras. But it didn’t matter if they came after her, as long as she had a head start.
Securing the pack in place, she closed her eyes and blew out a breath. She hadn’t had a chance to test her powers, but she had a feeling—
If Devlin is right . . . if I really am a Lilin . . . I hope this works.
Light as a feather. I’m as light as a feather.
She wobbled, throwing out her arms for balance as her shoes rose a foot off the ground.
Yes! Fuck. I hope this works.
She streaked out. A split second later, she faced the spot where she’d watched Sienna disappear. There was no door. How the hell? Giving the wall a shove, she was met with solid resistance. No, no, no!
Shiloh balled her hands into fists. Scarlet bled across her vision. A high-pitched ringing almost deafened her as energy pulsed from deep within. Heavy footfalls on the stairs vibrated from above. Fuck. She raised her hands and imagined the wall disintegrating as she shoved again, backing the action with all her power. The wall crumbled to dust, exposing what was left of a doorframe leading down another level. Choking on the concrete dust, she jumped, taking ten steps at a time.
“Shiloh!” Devlin’s deep voice threatened to bowl her down.
She raced down a long hallway, green metal doors flashing by in a blur. Another metal door blocked her escape at the end. Heaving her power, she blew the barrier off its hinges, the sound mimicking a car crash. The twisted steel remains tumbled for a few feet before falling over the edge of a cliff.
“Stop, Shiloh!”
I’m sorry. I love you.
She jumped through the gaping hole and followed the door over the edge.
“Noooooo!” His roar echoed through the valley below.
Her legs kicked, her arms pinwheeling. Cold air rushed under her jacket. Her backpack pushed up under her ponytail. Her heart threatened to bail out.
Light as a feather. Light as a feather.
Fuuuuuck! Pain ripped through her shoulder blades as black, blood-drenched wings tore from her flesh. Her backpack and jacket were flung off completely, the items plummeting towards the ground. Her body abruptly shunted upwards, knocking the breath from her lungs. She flexed her new appendages, rising higher.
Holy fucking shit! Lanie is going to love this.
She spun around, spotting Devlin standing at the edge of the cliff, watching her. The guards gathered in the yard, mouths agape. Margo waved from the patio, grinning as she raised her mug of coffee. Zain stood at the windows, headphones in his hand, jaw on the floor.
Thank you for keeping me safe, but I have to do this.
She started to turn away, but caught sight of Devlin, taking off his jacket and shirt. Two massive obsidian wings unfurled from his back. He speared her with a look, his eyes licked with flames.
Oh. My. God. Check him out.
Her core clenched. It was so wrong to be turned on, but faced with her avenging angel in all his glory, she had no choice. They were equals in every way. This was why the Fates had put them together.
Her mouth curled in a seductive smile. Flapping her wings, she mouthed an invitation before speeding off.
Come and get me.
If Only the Trees Could Talk
Tumbling in a ball of feathers and skin, Shiloh and Devlin crashed into the wilderness somewhere in New York State. Her lungs burned, surging in a bid for more air. White-hot pokers stabbed into her shoulder blades. She hissed as she dug out a rock from under her hip before rubbing the bruise it had left behind.
In the moonlight, the bare oak trees looked like ghostly skeletons, guarding their territory. An eerie calm cloaked the mysteries stored in their wood and sent Shiloh’s senses pricking.
Death has been here.
Shivering, she shook out her feathers and cocooned herself inside her wings. Wearing only jeans and a bra, she was in danger of freezing to death in the November night air. She’d lost the rest of her T-shirt somewhere over Kansas and she had no idea what had happened to the scarf.
Devlin jumped to his feet, his body overshadowing her huddled form. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“It’s-s the . . .” She gasped for air between words. “. . . on-ly w-way.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“He’s n-near.” The sickening tug of the membrane had pulled her from the sky. “I f-feel it.”
“Exactly why we gotta get the fuck away.” He scooped her up and took off.
Below them, the sparse scattering of houses looked like tiny boxes, dim light spilling from their windows. As they got closer to town, the gaps between neighbors narrowed. He landed on the roof of a shop, tucking his wings out of sight as he put her back on her feet.
“Put your wings away. We don’t wanna get caught on camera.”
Goosebumps traced the withdrawal of his embrace as she wondered how the hell she was going to do that. “I don’t know how.”
“Imagine them going back in and they will.”
She gave it her best shot. It took a few seconds for her wings to respond, but she did it. Jiggling her shoulders, she adjusted to the weight she now carried. It was uncomfortable, but nowhere near as painful as setting them free.
“You’ll get used to it. It won’t hurt as bad the next time you whip ’em out.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to stop her shivers. “Why did you bring us here?”
“I ain’t lettin’ you walk around half-naked. And we need to chill for a bit until I round up the team.”
“I don’t think the shops are open.”
“The liquor store is.”
“They don’t sell clothes.”
“Who said anything ’bout buyin’ clothes?”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her to the edge of the roof. They crouched down, staying hidden in the shadows as they surveyed the scene across the street.
Central Park, Liquors. Peekskill, New York. The store logo used Old English font and featured two winged lions protecting two bottles of wine topped by a crown.
Two winged predators.
Red wine—symbolizing blood—topped with a crown.
Royal blood.
How appropriate.
Devlin pointed to the street. “See that guy over there? Bushy beard. Leather jacket.”
Bushy Beard was heading into the bright lights of the lion’s den. “Yeah.”
“I reckon he’s ’bout my size. And he’s got a girl waitin’ in the truck.”
Shiloh gave him a sidelong glance. “What are you going to do?” She didn’t like the gleam in his eye.
“The truck is heated. They’ll live.”
“Devlin.”
“Do you wanna die of frostbite before we get Lanie back?”
Good point. “No.”
He raised his eyebrows and turned his attention back to the store. Loaded up with two bottles of something and a six-pack of beer, the guy exited the store.
“Wait here.” Leaping to the ground, Devlin reached into his jean pocket, pulling out a smoke as he strolled across the street.
“Hey, man. Got a light?”
The guy’s head snapped around to face Devlin, his shoulders pulling in to his ears. He stood still for a whole
minute, watching D hold up his smoke. “No. Sorry.”
“Damn shame. That’s a nice jacket. You wanna give it to me, don’tcha?”
The guy bent to put his drinks on the sidewalk before shucking off the leather. He handed it over, no questions.
His girl opened the door of the truck, but Devlin pointed a finger in her direction, shutting her in.
If she sensed any danger, this could go to shit.
“I’d like to meet your woman.”
Bushy Beard started to lead the way.
“What about your alcohol?” Devlin picked up one of the bottles, inspecting the label.
The guy spun back, grabbing the remaining stash. He held out a palm for D’s bottle.
“Not this one. You don’t really want it.”
The beard shook his head and carried on his way.
Reaching the truck, Devlin opened the door for his new friend. “Hi, I’m Dean. Your man is somethin’ else, helping me out on a cold night. Thanks for your help. What did ya say your names were, again?
“Jack. And this is Erin.”
“Erin. I like it. You’re too hot wearing that in here. Take it off. I’ll look after it, I swear.”
Shiloh couldn’t see the woman’s face, and if she spoke at all, she was super-quiet. But two minutes later, Devlin was knocking on the roof of the truck and walking away with a bottle of whiskey, a leather jacket, his and hers matching Henleys, and a hooded women’s puffer jacket.
Shiloh felt slightly sick. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for his skills. She just knew what it was like to be on the wrong end of vampire manipulation. If she could repay those people for their gifts, she would somehow.
Dev leaped up to where she was hiding. “I know you don’t like it, but it’s what we gotta do to survive.” He put the bottle of Jack down and handed over the clothes.
“I know.”
After throwing on his new Henley, he reached both arms into the leather. “I called Lock. They’re on their way. I gotta get a few more things. Get dressed.” Adjusting the jacket collar, he took the Jack and jumped to the ground. “Meet me inside.”
She wrestled the clothes over her trembling body and followed him inside the neighboring convenience store.