by Aliya DalRae
When Harrier reached Mason’s office the door was closed, and he knocked before letting himself in. He didn’t wait for me—just walked on in to the rustic room, leaving the way open for me to enter, which I did.
Mason was seated at the big roll top desk, surrounded by his tidy stacks of paperwork and modern work tables, but he rose to greet me when I entered.
My last visit to this room was the night I’d learned that monsters were real, the night my whole life changed forever. So much had happened since then, but as I looked around I noticed that the office was exactly the same.
Moss and Redlin prints of game birds and retrievers decorated the plain cream walls in a manner that conflicted greatly with the man standing before me. Mason was tall, lean and very GQ. His dark hair was neatly styled and slicked back to perfection. His tan Dockers and off-white silk shirt were wrinkle free, in spite of the long night he had most likely endured. In fact, the only thing out of place with the man was the drawn look on his face and the tired smile he offered me with his hand. I shook his hand reluctantly, then wiped my damp palms on my sweatpants.
“Please, Miss Sweet, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the large sofa on the far side of the room.
“If it’s all the same, Mason, I’d rather stand. I don’t have much to say, and I’d just as soon be on my way.”
“I see.” Mason’s tone was flat, and his tolerance seemed forced. Harrier had retreated to the far side of the office and had planted himself in one of the large chairs arranged by the couch. With Mason’s two word response, Harrier looked up at me, and something in his eyes encouraged me to change my mind. Go figure.
“Well, maybe for a minute,” I mumbled. Dropping my bag, I trudged across the room, planting myself on the sofa nearest Harrier’s chair, surprising both of us. Mason joined us, raising his eyebrows when he noted how close Harrier and I were sitting, but thankfully, he said nothing. The animosity between Harrier and Raven and me was legendary, but for some reason right now I felt calm around the male, which kind of pissed me off. I didn’t want to feel calm around another Vampire, especially one who had already attacked me once. I wanted to get this over with and go home.
Famous last words.
Chapter Nineteen
H arrier’s mind wandered as Mason took the seat opposite him and turned his attention to the girl. Obviously Raven, in some attempt to soften the blow, had told Jessica about the murdered human and that he was suspected. Based on her reaction, he hadn’t gotten to the part about Mason backing his claims of innocence, and there could be only one reason for that.
She’d had a vision.
Harrier didn’t understand how her premonitions worked—had never really cared to—but the one thing he knew was that they always came true. If she was running from Raven, it was because she’d seen him commit the crime.
Harrier couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew all of Raven’s claims of being cured by the love of a good woman were bullshit, and that this day was inevitable. He was surprised, however, that it had happened so soon.
“Is something funny, Harrier?” Mason’s voice was soft, but Harrier sensed the Warlord’s patience was on a string.
“Nah,” Harrier said with a shrug. “Just thinking.”
Mason glared at him. “If you have more pressing issues to tend to, you’re more than welcome to go.”
“I think I’ll stay, if it’s okay with the human,” Harrier said, but subsequently kicked himself for not taking the out. Why the hell had he said that? It had been a long, crappy night and he was tired as hell. It must be way past sunup, and his bed was calling. A glance at the girl, though, and he was glad of his choice. Her face was pure relief as she nodded her consent. Who knew there would come a day when she would prefer his company over that monster’s? It was hard to keep the smile from his lips, but he managed it. Just.
“Jessica,” Mason was saying, “I’m truly sorry about the death of the human, but I was hoping you could help us.” She looked at him expectantly, but kept stealing glances Harrier’s way.
“We know that there seems to be a connection between this girl’s murder and Raven’s past, but I’ve spoken to Raven and am inclined to believe that he was not responsible. Unless you can give me reason to think differently.”
Jessica’s eyes widened, and her hands were trembling, but she kept silent. Harrier leaned forward in the overstuffed chair.
This was going to be good.
Chapter Twenty
S eriously? Wait, what was I thinking? Of course, Mason would want to side with Raven. He would never want to believe that the male he had taken in and trained so vigorously to be civilized would revert to his old ways of killing and…and…stuff.
I was quivering with emotions I couldn’t even put a name to, thoughts tripping through my brain so fast I couldn’t catch one to say out loud. All I could do was stare at Mason and hope he was kidding. Harrier was edging forward, watching me intently, expecting lord knows what.
Mason sat there, relaxed and waiting.
“I’m having a little trouble wrapping my mind around all this,” I said, finding my voice. “A girl is dead, slaughtered in a manner you are all too familiar with, seeing as how it was Raven’s modus operandi. You call us both here, but you talk to Raven first. You know I have visions, especially ones related to Raven. Did it not occur to you to talk to me first? How can you just take his word?”
Somehow, I’d ended up on my feet and my tone was less than respectful, but to hell with respect. Mason’s demeanor hadn’t changed, and a glance at Harrier told me that he, at least, was thoroughly enjoying this. Bastard.
Mason tapped his fingers on the arm of the wingback chair he occupied, before standing to face me. He was quite a bit taller than me, and I had been totally cowed by him when we first met. I was either too scared or too foolish to be impressed now, and I met his gaze full on when he looked down at me.
“I understand you are upset with the circumstances, but I ask you to try and calm yourself, to look at this rationally. Raven hasn’t committed this kind of treachery in centuries. Since you entered the picture, he has been happy for the first time in his exceedingly long life. I’ve known him for the majority of those years, and I know he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what he’s found with you. If he were experiencing impulses from his past, he would come to me, or to Tas, to help him regain his control. And that is because he loves you.”
Mason placed his hands on my shoulders, and I only flinched a little.
“I spoke to Raven first,” he continued, “because I didn’t want to be influenced one way or another by what you had to say.”
I was nonplussed.
“Influenced? What, by the fact that I woke up at two in the morning, in full on freak out? Influenced by my vision of the man I’ve been sleeping with using his fangs and—other things—to torture and mutilate a girl I happened to know, personally? Or are you just so cocksure of Raven, that you are willing to ignore the fact that my visions always come true?”
Mason’s grip on my shoulders tightened, but not painfully, and he shook me a little when he responded.
“Yes, I was interested. And yes, I am that sure of Raven.” He said it with such conviction that I almost believed it myself. God knows I wanted to.
“Tell me, Jessica, what did you do when you had this vision? Did you call me immediately to ensure that Raven was taken into custody, that the streets of Fallen Cross were protected from such a despicable creature as he? To perhaps prevent the murder from taking place? Or did you dismiss it as a mistake?”
If my brain had itched I would have sworn he was pulling memories from my head like Raven used to do. Since it didn’t, I had to assume that Mason was trying to make me see things from all angles. Like he knew I had tried to reject the vision as a dream, because the truth was too horrible to imagine. Because I didn’t want to imagine it.
Who knew the Warlord was a romantic? Still I didn’t r
espond. He already knew the answer anyway.
“Since I didn’t receive that phone call, and no one reported having heard from you, I can only assume that you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt as well.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, it had become so intense. I shifted my eyes to stare past him at a print of a golden retriever with a pheasant in its mouth. It might have been a Redlin.
“Think, Jessica. Could the man in your vision have been anyone other than Raven?” Mason asked, returning to his chair and crossing his legs, resuming his relaxed pose.
I sat as well, giving myself a minute to think. I had been so sure of what I was seeing—the silky black hair, the sapphire blue eyes, and how they sparked with amethyst light right before he attacked Mandy. But in the vision, I never really got a good look at his face—just an impression that was so Raven-like I simply assumed it was him.
“When you all get, well, excited, your eyes change, right?” I asked, and Mason nodded. I was too embarrassed to even glance at Harrier, but I could feel him suppressing a laugh. “Well, Raven’s go all purple, right? Do you know anyone else whose eyes go purple?”
Mason thought for a bit, drumming his fingers on the chair arm again. I thought he’d forgotten the question, but he finally answered.
“It’s not uncommon for more than one Vampire to spark the same color, though I admit I do not know of another whose eyes glow quite the same as Raven’s.”
I thought for a minute. It was a vision, and I woke up scared. All I saw was purple, which in my mind equaled Raven.
“I guess it could have been someone else,” I admitted, but I wasn’t so sure. “Really, Mason, I wish I could say for certain that it was someone else. The last thing I want is to think I was responsible for Raven reverting to—that. But I don’t know. It felt like Raven, do you understand? Crap—how could you understand? You don’t have visions, do you? Of course you don’t understand.”
“Do you love him?” Mason interjected, and Harrier made a derisive noise. I glared at him before admitting that I did. “Then you must trust that I know what I’m doing.” I looked at him, saying nothing, and he added, “I’ve given Raven a week to find who is responsible for this. If, in that period, he is unable to resolve this, I’ll have to reconsider my position.”
“But what if someone else dies?” I asked in a small voice.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I still wasn’t ready to see Raven, and I had a lot of questions about how the Vampires were going to handle Mandy’s disappearance. Mostly, though, I just wanted to go home. Mason promised to keep Raven away from me for a while, and was kind enough to loan me a car so I could leave right away. I picked up my bag, which was right where I’d dropped it, and headed for the bank of elevators.
When the lift arrived I walked inside and pressed the button for the garage level. Just as the doors were closing, a massive hand impeded their progress, and they reopened to reveal Harrier on the other end of that intrusive appendage. I was starting to think he was stalking me. He entered the car and I pushed the button again to get us on our way.
“Mason asked me to walk you to the garage.”
“You knew, didn’t you,” I said quietly. “When you so graciously offered to take that walk with me, you knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Not my place.”
At least he looked uncomfortable. I was noticing a lot of expressions on this big Vampire I never thought I’d see. Somehow, that didn’t make me feel better.
The elevator stopped and I walked out into the underground garage. I fumbled with the key fob Mason had given me, pushing a button to see what I’d be driving. The lights on a black Porsche Carrera blinked on and off, and I shook my head as I made my way to it. Not that I’d expected a Honda, but a vehicle this swanky was going to look really out of place in my gravel driveway.
I opened the driver side door and threw my bag on the passenger seat. I looked up to find Harrier standing on the opposite side of the vehicle, watching me.
“You okay to drive?”
“I’ve driven standard before,” I said, deliberately misunderstanding.
“Okay,” he said, and he took a step backward.
“Harrier?”
“Yeah, J?”
“Why are you being nice to me? I mean, honestly, what’s in it for you?”
Harrier dragged a massive paw though his hair and said, “You’re the second person to ask me that today.” Then he turned and walked away.
The drive home was uneventful. Mason had decided a while ago that if I was going to be such a big part of Raven’s life, it stood to reason I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize him or the Legion. So I took a solemn vow of silence and was given my very own directions to the Compound. They weren’t easy though. On my first solo visit I drove past the drive three times before I saw it. They have it glamoured pretty good, and if you don’t know what you’re looking for, you totally miss it.
When I got home, I parked the Porsche up close to the barn, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally scratch it, grabbed my bag and headed for the house. I’d only been gone a few hours, but it felt like days. Weeks. I don’t know. It just felt good to be back on my own turf.
Malcolm was on the porch when I walked in. I was barely through the screen door when he jumped off his chair and wove a figure eight pattern around my legs. I dropped my bag and picked him up, giving him Eskimo kisses, which he returned with gusto. Piper was crazy. There was nothing creepy about this cat. He was a big ol’ sweety, that’s all.
I shifted the cat to one arm and unlocked the front door. Kicking my bag into the kitchen ahead of me, I carried the big, black feline inside, and headed straight for the couch where I laid down with Malcolm on my belly. I was asleep before I could close my eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
J essica was home. Malcolm hadn’t expected to see her until Sunday night at the earliest. It was barely past noon on Saturday, and they left just before dawn today. And what was with the Porsche? Sweet ride, totally, but definitely not Jessica’s, or Raven’s for that matter. He drove a Corvette
Malcolm rubbed his whiskers on Jessica’s neck, and though she smelled of Vampire, her scent was more one of sweat and sadness. She was wearing workout clothes, so she must have come straight from the gym. Had she worked out at the Club, or perhaps gone to her own dojo?
Malcolm didn’t care. The fact that she was here spelled trouble, with a capital T, and that had him on the verge of an undignified happy dance. He thought he had imagined the tension between her and the bloodsucker as they left earlier. He’d been watching from his place under the sofa when Raven came in, and those two hadn’t wasted a second in doing the nasty. That had Malcolm running upstairs with his eyes closed, and doing mental calisthenics in an effort to ignore what was going on in the room below.
But now, his mind was a tornado of thought. What could the Vampire possibly have done to piss her off so badly that she’d borrowed a car from the Legion to get away from him?
Wait—had he hurt her? Malcolm stood up and stretched, before walking up and down the sleeping girl, looking at every inch of visible skin—and there it was. A purple bruise in the shape of a large hand decorated her right wrist like a macabre bracelet.
Malcolm hissed and Jessica stirred. He laid down on her stomach again, and she reached up with her damaged hand, stroking him in her sleep. He rubbed his nose against her wrist, trying to get a scent, to confirm who had done this to her. At first he only smelled Jessica, her clean sweat mixed with honeysuckle, but soon there was no doubt. It was there, at the source of it—the leach’s musky scent.
Malcolm purred as he rubbed his cheek against her arm. Jessica could never forgive the bloodsucker for this. All he needed was an opportunity, a small crack to slip through, and the stupid Vampire had given it to him. The door was now op
en, and it was time for Malcolm, the man, to make his entrance.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I slept for about an hour, and when I woke, Malcolm was still with me. He was usually not this attentive when I’d been with Raven. In fact, Piper and I joked that he acted jealous, but it wasn’t far from the truth. The longer I was gone, the more aloof he was. If I stayed at the Compound for more than a couple of days, it was at least that long before he’d come near me again. I knew he missed me when I was away, separation anxiety or something, but I always made sure there was food and water out for him and my other kitties. I don’t think he liked dining with the masses though. He’d become such a pampered house pet. Quite the diva.
After a quick shower and a handful of household chores, I hit the barn to see if I couldn’t knock out that table this afternoon. It was after two, but I thought I could still get it done if I worked hard and didn’t take too many breaks.
I ended up moving the Carrera to the other side of my old silver Honda hatchback, thinking stripping chemicals probably wouldn’t mix well with Porsche paint.
With one of my more energetic play lists blasting through the old stereo speakers, I got to work, my head bobbing with the music. I finished the table lickety-split, and was back in the shower by five.
Not wanting to be alone tonight, I decided to call Piper to see if she had plans, ignoring the twelve missed calls on my cell from Raven’s number.
“Hello,” Piper sang. Piper loves to get phone calls.
“Hey, what’s up?” I said, putting on my best girlfriend voice.
“Jessica,” Piper shrieked. “I thought you’d be with Raven this weekend. Ohmigod! You’re not going to believe the new shoes I just got. They are so amazing. Jimmy Choo’s, and I even got them on sale.”