“Of course,” Oren said quickly.
“Are the warlock and shapeshifter allies to our runaways?”
“I believe so.” Oren shuffled away from a human who could hear his conversation. Who did she think she was, hovering near him? What, was she going to run and tell Christian the truth about why he left Pureblood with the group? I’ll kill her first.
“Good,” Phoenix said. “With two allies injured, they’ll forget about any possible traitors because their focus will be on taking revenge on Pureblood. Where are you?”
“I’m at the Rouses in Metairie.” It wasn’t the closest grocery store to the house, but it wasn’t so far enough away to make him look suspicious.
“Good, stay there until we show up. You’re going to send a message back to Christian.”
Oren felt himself tremble before he reminded himself that he was a vampire, the strongest creature that existed. He could take out this entire store if he wanted to. Bullets wouldn’t kill him.
He was invincible.
“What’s the message?” he asked, feeling slightly better.
“You’ll see soon enough.” With a click, Phoenix hung up.
His confidence fading slightly, Oren tossed the disposable phone he’d been using in a nearby trashcan and took the list of groceries out of his pocket. It was scrawled in Charlie’s sloppy handwriting, and the first few items were things only she would want. He ignored her request for oatmeal cream pies and made for the meat section, gathering as many cuts of red meat as he could buy.
By the time he wheeled his cart to the dairy aisle, he’d forgotten about Purebloods coming into the store. He remembered the moment someone hit him in the back of the head, causing his vision to blink in and out before his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground with many blurry hands pinning him there. There were faces too, unfamiliar ones that leered down at him disgustedly.
“What’s your message?” Oren asked as calmly as he could. He didn’t fight back. To hurt his own people in any way was an offense Phoenix wouldn’t tolerate, especially given that he’d been told of this meeting.
“Tell Christian and the rest of your friends that we expect you to turn yourselves in by Mardi Gras day. If you don’t, we will kill five humans for every one of you who still hides from us each day after.” The man spoke closely to his ear, and his voice carried, uncaring of anyone who could overhear him.
When Oren nodded, promising to pass on the message, he caught sight of something red on the floor.
It was blood—and it wasn’t his own.
Before he could turn to see where it was coming from, the man who spoke with him bit down on his neck, and it hurt. He screamed and screamed, having never felt this level of pain before. Surely those weren’t fangs in his skin, but branding rods. This is what it feels like. This is what it’s like to have the life sucked out of you.
For the first time, he wondered whether he should have ever involved himself with Pureblood. Really, he shouldn’t have become a vampire at all.
* * * *
“What?” Cael had just begun getting used to Briony’s own brand of bizarre, but this was too much. When she first said he didn’t kill Ava, he considered the possibility.
Until he came to his senses and remembered there wasn’t a possibility that anyone else killed her. If there were, he would have found the bastard and gutted him himself.
“Big Mama’s certain of it,” Briony said, nodding. “When she looked at you, instead of the aura I was looking at—it was much lighter than usual until now actually—she saw a great wrong someone committed against you, and she knew that wrong was blaming you for that girl’s death.”
“I did it.” He wouldn’t be argued with. His penance was technically complete, but it wasn’t something he could forget about. His crime would affect every day of the rest of his life because it meant he could never be intimate with Aiyanna.
With her, it had to end with kissing. It wouldn’t be enough for a woman as passionate as she was, but he had to try. Now, he was giving her everything he could without risking her.
Yet Briony dangled the possibility of his innocence, of being able to have a full relationship with Aiyanna. He gritted his teeth.
“No, you didn’t,” Briony said.
The assertion in the witch’s voice made him snap. There were too many problems for them to deal with without hunting down the phantom killer of a woman who died a hundred years ago. He had to focus on Aiyanna, on keeping New Orleans safe from Pureblood, all the while keeping in mind that the warlocks were lying in wait for his pack.
Briony chose the wrong time to screw with him.
Rising to his full height, he looked down at her admittedly kind face and yelled, spit flying from his mouth like the animal he was. “Leave me the fuck alone, woman! I won’t hear any more of your lies.”
It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep him from shaking the witch by her shoulders. He was furious, but he’d never be so far gone to hurt a woman over a disagreement.
Aiyanna took his arm and yanked him away from the now ashen-faced Briony. For someone whose gun injury had just been reopened by an overzealous werewolf, Aiyanna’s grip was surprisingly strong.
Heath and Sophia must have overheard his shouting. Without looking at Cael, Heath appeared next to Briony and took her away, most likely back to New Orleans. Sophia jogged into the room seconds later, but she hadn’t opened her mouth before Aiyanna started on him.
“She was only trying to help you.” She hadn’t released his arm. “She and Big Mama might be the first people to believe in you and dare to vocalize it.” Her eyes were slivers of gold, pleading with him to listen. “I agree with her. Are you going to yell at me too?”
When he looked at her, it was as if he’d never seen her before. There was so much hope radiating from her, taking away much of the exhaustion he’d been able to glimpse only minutes ago, turning the grimace of pain she’d tried to hide from him into a smile.
With her like this, believing he was someone other than a killer, he realized the truth. As he was, he would never be enough for her. Whatever had sparked between them would soon die out, snuffed by what-ifs.
Aiyanna’s beauty, the memories of her kiss, and of Briony’s soul-wrenching words…they were all too much. He wished he were anywhere but in this room, preferably somewhere that no one knew who he was.
Air brushed up behind him, and before he could do anything, say anything to the woman who scared him shitless, it took him away, dropping him onto a snow-covered street.
It was good enough for him. He needed time away from everything, everyone. Even Aiyanna.
He should have been thrilled he could travel on a whim, flitting from place to place using his air powers. He wasn’t very surprised. Each of his packmates had altered powers after all the time their abilities were bound. With air, there were only so many alterations that could happen.
Ambivalent to a skill most werewolves would kill to possess, he shook the melting snow from his hair and trudged up the road until he found a small diner that boasted the best coffee in Jackson.
Wondering idly if he was in Jackson, Wyoming, he walked into the restaurant, ordered their oh-so-special coffee, and put his head in his hands. When the frustration clawing up his throat abated, then he would go back to Aiyanna and his pack.
If he went any time before, he just might kill all of them.
Chapter 12
“TOUCHY.” Sophia raised her eyebrow at the place Cael had stood a moment before. “Did you know he could do that?”
Aiyanna shook her head. “Today’s been a day of Cael revelations.” She ticked off her fingers. “First, he was innocent after all. Meaning he could mate with me if we wanted to.” That hope she’d felt earlier surged again, dimmed only by Cael’s reaction to the news. “Second, he possesses the unsavory talent to command his very own super-speedy air travel, which obviously makes it far too easy for him
to run away from his problems.”
“So you don’t find Briony’s announcement strange?” Sophia asked, looking uncertain. “I’ve read Cael’s file. It’s going to be hard to prove to anyone that he didn’t suffocate the woman, especially him, since he’s accepted that his air powers somehow went awry after they had sex.”
“Of course, it’s strange. Witches are strange.” Given, the witches who lived in New Orleans were their own kind of crazy. “But it makes sense. Has that ever happened before, a lover accidentally killing someone with air?” She was no werewolf, but she would have heard about something like that, especially if it happened often.
“No, it’s usually fire elementals getting pissed and burning down homes and apartment complexes,” Sophia answered with a not-so innocent smile.
“Someone else killed her. We have to find who did it, and prove to Cael that he never so much as hurt that woman.” Aiyanna moved to stand, waving Sophia off when she tried to help. With a redressing of her bandages and some real clothes, she’d be good to go.
There was only a small chance the murderer was a mortal, so they were probably alive. Now all they had to do was find this fiend and get a confession.
That plan sounded so lame inside her head, she didn’t dare voice it to Sophia.
“He’s from Belfast,” she murmured. “How big of a city is that?”
“The biggest in Northern Ireland,” Sophia said promptly. She frowned. “That doesn’t tell us much, does it?”
They stood in silence until Sophia whipped out her phone. “I have an idea!” She typed quickly, and Aiyanna could hardly consider what this idea was before Vale appeared, Katarina holding his hand. A sparkling pink cast shone on her arm, practically screaming of Briony’s work.
Katarina didn’t let go of Vale when their feet were firmly planted on the floor, and it made Aiyanna smile. Something told her that warlock-wannabe could use a break, and it was a miracle anyone had cracked the wall that was Vale. He was the most controlled, unfeeling creature she’d ever met, and now a hint of a smile played around his mouth, his hand tightening on Katarina’s.
“You mentioned something about Belfast?” he asked Sophia.
“You told Heath that Cael sent you to get two brothers from Belfast.”
“Oh.” Vale nodded. “Those were the brothers of the girl Cael, uh…” He shrugged awkwardly, unwilling to talk about Cael’s alleged crime. “They weren’t too happy to see me once they knew I was helping him.”
Aiyanna caught on to why Sophia brought him here. “Would you take us to them? Cael’s innocent, and they’re the only starting point we have to find who really killed Ava.”
“Wait.” Katarina broke her hold with Vale and held up her hands. Aiyanna could have sworn the air around the woman’s hands shifted and shimmered, but after a short moment there was nothing to see. Maybe it was the cast.
“You think it’s a good idea to barge into two men’s lives to ask them about who they think killed their sister…after a man served imprisonment for that crime and was released.” She clapped. “Bravo, you’re all idiots.”
“Don’t you think they deserve to know that it was someone else?” Aiyanna cried. “They’ve hated Cael for all these years, and now there’s a possibility that anguish was aimed at the wrong person. They ought to know that.”
“If my brother were killed, and I thought the wrong guy was responsible, I’d sure as hell want to know,” Sophia mused. “Too bad that first person would be dead already.”
That made Aiyanna smile. She didn’t doubt it—Sophia and Sebastian were so close, it occasionally left her a smidge jealous. They had no idea how lucky they were to have a sibling. With no family left to speak of, she couldn’t imagine having someone she could depend on for the entirety of her life.
It was part of why she’d always wished she could have her own family someday.
“For the sake of the girl, I’ll take you to Belfast.” Vale looked Aiyanna up and down. “But you need to change first.”
She made for the closet, but Sophia beat her to it. After a minute or so of rifling and stifled laughter at the healer’s wardrobe choices, a pair of jeans, socks, a long-sleeve shirt and a sweater were thrown directly at her. Aiyanna caught all of the clothes and made for the bathroom.
After a warm shower, the heat stinging her abdomen, she took a look at the injury that had her moving slower than ever. Sure enough, there was a hole in her middle, right where her lung lived underneath her ribcage. The ribs trying to protect her lungs were certainly dinged from the way it hurt her to twist her torso or bend over, and her lungs seemed almost completely healed. She reminded herself to thank Ingrid more profusely later.
Bruises surrounded the bullet hole, turning the left portion of her chest sickly shades of purple and black. Her back was free of any exit wound, meaning the bullet had most likely ricocheted around her middle before stopping. That healer truly was something, literally saving her from certain death the way she had. If Ingrid or any of the San Francisco healers ever needed anything from her, Aiyanna would be there.
As quickly as she dared, she re-dressed her wound, disinfecting, bandaging it, and wrapping her torso with an ACE bandage she found in a cabinet. It wouldn’t be fun to walk around Belfast, but she had no doubt it that was exactly where she needed to be. Besides, this dressing would do her fine until tonight. Then she could re-examine how she could heal faster. She planned to consult Briony on that; the witch had some seriously handy concoctions for all bodily aches and pains.
Her hair tied in two braids under her ears, Aiyanna went back into the bedroom to find two healers frowning at her, flanked by an equally disapproving Heath. Katarina didn’t bother to hide her smirk, but at least Vale and Sophia seemed welcoming enough.
“Cael will literally kill me if I let you go to Ireland.” Heath held up a finger. “I’m not misusing the term ‘literally’ here. He will literally kill me. You aren’t well enough to chase down a murderer.”
“No, you’re not,” Ingrid agreed. “If you re-break your rib and a lung gets punctured, you’re in—what was that term you like to use, Cassidy?”
The human met Aiyanna’s gaze, something like anger in her own. “Downtown Fucksville.”
Ingrid nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s where you’ll be if you aren’t careful.”
Aiyanna already knew all of this. It was the reason why she’d wrapped her ribs so carefully. They were right—she was screwed if some linebacker of a human or creature decided to tackle her.
But she didn’t see that happening, so it wasn’t going to stop her from helping Cael. How bad could Ava’s brothers be anyway?
Heath’s phone vibrated in his pocket, silencing Aiyanna’s retort. His expression turned puzzled when he saw the caller, and when he answered, it sounded like Christian who spoke.
“Oren’s hurt, really badly. He keeps talking about Pureblood, but he’s hardly coherent. Is Aiyanna well enough to heal him?”
Heath pinned her with a glare and shook his head. “No, but I may have someone else. I’ll be right there.” When he hung up, he turned to Cassidy. “Will you come with me now? A vampire needs your help, and I don’t think Aiyanna’s up for it.”
Cassidy nodded, and Heath leaned across Ingrid to press a quick kiss to Sophia’s mouth before he grabbed Cassidy’s shoulder and took her to New Orleans. The human’s scream was piercing, the way it began loud, rapidly faded into nothing.
Undoubtedly, she’d still be screaming when she arrived with the vampires.
“Well, now’s a better time than ever to go,” Sophia said cheerfully. “Heath can’t stop us until he comes back.” She held her hands in two thumbs-ups.
“Let me see.” Ingrid pointed to Aiyanna’s midsection, and Vale turned away, giving her privacy while the other healer inspected her newly dressed wound. “Not bad,” she conceded. “But you still must be careful.”
Aiyanna promised she would, both to herse
lf and Ingrid. She didn’t want to hurt any worse, and she certainly wanted to keep her lungs doing exactly what they needed to do. They weren’t exactly organs one wanted to mess with.
“I’ll help watch her back,” Katarina promised, surprising the hell out of Aiyanna. When she stared at the warlock in shock, the other woman merely tugged a lock of her straight, shoulder-length blonde hair and shrugged, as if she didn’t know why she was willing to help, either.
“Between the three of us, no one can touch her.” Sophia planted her hands on her hips, the position appearing strangely like a Wonder Woman pose.
“Be safe,” Ingrid said, clasping her hand in front of her.
Vale took the chance to take both Aiyanna and Sophia, landing them on a street in front of a redbrick home that looked like every other one on the block. There was snow on the ground, and the cold bit through her sweater as if it was a piece of gossamer lace.
The neighborhood didn’t appear distinctly European, but it was obviously not the United States, mainly because of the smaller sizes of the cars with their strip-like license plates.
“It’s that house.” Vale pointed to the home directly facing them and vanished, returning a moment later with Katarina. “The brother with the temper is Hugh, and the other is Sean. Remember, they’re both water elementals.”
That point in mind, Aiyanna marched up the few front steps and knocked on the door before she could hesitate. Immediately, she heard the creak of a wooden chair, followed by someone walking down a set of stairs and then toward the front door.
They didn’t open it.
“Who are you?” A male voice called, his accent thick.
That made her freeze. What could she say? Oh, we’re just here to discuss your dead sister, and how no one really knows who killed her. Yes, I would love a cup of tea, thank you.
“We’re from San Francisco,” Katarina chimed in, stepping up beside Aiyanna. “And we’re thinking about moving to Belfast. I was told you could help me find the local coven, and get Sophia here involved in your pack?”
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