by Aliya DalRae
Several Soldiers were busy cleaning up things I tried hard not to picture as having once been part of a sentient being. The feral who had attacked me was merely in two pieces. Raven’s attacker, however, was all over the place. What in the hell had happened to make Raven do this? I’d seen him kill before, and though it wasn’t a happy thought, I knew that he was clean and methodical about it. Once his opponent was dead, he was done.
This, however, was an act of rage, of fury. It looked like a pack of hyenas had gotten hold of a gazelle and torn it to pieces, playing tug of war.
Playing.
No. Raven couldn’t have done this for fun? I swallowed hard to dismiss the thought. Making an effort not to step in feral bits, I worked my way to the driveway where Tas and Raven were talking.
Raven pulled me to his side when I reached them, holding me close with an arm draped gently, but possessively, around my sore shoulder. I put my arms around his waist for warmth as much as comfort. I was disturbed by so many things that had happened tonight, but being near Raven still seemed like the safest place for me.
“Jessica,” Tas said. “You okay?”
“Sure. Whatever,” I replied, resting my cheek against Raven’s chest. His heart was beating, slow and steady, and I was grateful that the pull I had felt earlier, the desire ignited by that rhythm, was absent. “You call the whole crew out?” I added, seeing more Soldiers there than I had initially spotted.
“Raven said it was…messy,” Tas said, rolling his eyes at my Vampire. “It’s been a busy night for them.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Raven stared at Tas. “What’s he doing here?” He didn’t say which “he” he was talking about, but I had a feeling I knew.
“I’m here because I wanted to come,” Harrier said behind us. “Had to see for myself what kind of shit storm you managed to bring down on Jessica this time.”
Raven spun around, maneuvering me behind him and out of Harrier’s reach. I knew he was being protective, but recent events made it unnecessary. Explaining that to Raven? Too much to worry about tonight.
“You’re not welcome here,” Raven growled, and Harrier laughed his cynical laugh.
“Not your call, asshole.” Raven took a step toward Harrier, who matched the move putting them nose to nose. This was going nowhere.
I stepped out from behind Raven and put myself between the two, a hand held up to each.
“Is this going to break up soon, or do I have to get the garden hose?” Two sets of angry eyes turned on me and I suddenly felt very small. But Tas was snickering behind me, and after a beat Harrier smiled as well. Raven was the only one not feeling my humor.
“Seriously, guys, I’m tired, I’m sore, and I want to go to bed. You two start and there’s going to be more work for those boys, and I honestly don’t think my grass can handle it. So can’t we call a truce, at least for tonight? Please?”
Raven seemed repentant and Harrier made a concession by taking a step back and leaning against a Legion Hummer.
“Raven,” Tas said, and we turned to face him. “Mason asked me to remind you he still needs to talk to you. You can add recent events to the agenda. I’m supposed to bring you back with me as soon as the Cleaners are done.”
By all appearances, that would be soon. The Soldiers looked to be finishing up, loading equipment into their vehicles, and from what I could see in the dark, the yard was pristine. I don’t know what they used, but I suppose being a Vampire you would have to know all the tricks for removing blood and guts from just about anything.
I nodded to a Soldier as he walked past, and he nodded back. He seemed really young—even younger than Perry—and thinking about that particular Soldier reminded me that I wasn’t the only one suffering tonight.
Raven said my name, bringing me back to the present.
“Will you be alright here, or do you want to come back to the Compound with me?”
“For my own good?” I asked with a sardonic smile.
“Of course,” he said, his face softening in a smile of his own. He was so pretty when he smiled, but I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ll lock all the doors and windows, and won’t invite any Vampires in for coffee.” He narrowed his brow, apparently not convinced, but I took his arm and led him to Tas’s SUV.
That’s when it hit me.
I really was tired. Tired of the blood and the violence. The killing, and the overwhelming uncertainty that came with being involved with these people. I was tired of running, of being afraid. Of my goddamned lawn taking a perpetual beating. Was this what the rest of my life would be like? Was constant turmoil the price I would pay for loving a Vampire?
The memory of the taste of Raven’s blood on my tongue, the smooth headiness as it slid down my throat, sent a shiver of fear-tinged excitement through my belly.
Or would the cost be even higher?
We reached the vehicle and I turned to Raven, searching his face for some sign that we could have a normal life together. I wasn’t seeing it. After a moment, I shook my head and took a deep breath, resolved and understanding what I had to do.
“You know Raven, I’m still trying to come to terms with you not being the monster in my visions, even though he looks exactly like you. I’ve been chewed on and nearly, well, you know, by another Vampire. And that thing happened when you healed me. It’s occurring to me that I’m a little vamped out right now. Vampire overload, I guess. I just want to climb into my jammies, curl up on the couch with an Emeril rerun, and pretend like Vampires are make-believe monsters that have nothing to do with me.”
“Even this Vampire?” Raven asked, panic evident in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Raven, but especially this Vampire. I need to sort things out, and being around you won’t help. Until I can figure out what is going on with me, I think I need a break from the supernatural.” His eyes hardened and I added, “I love you, Raven, I do. But I can’t be with you right now. Please try and understand.”
I opened the passenger door and motioned for him to enter. As he climbed in I thought it surprising how cooperative he was being, and I was thankful.
But before I could shut the door, he pulled me to him and kissed me. Hot, smoldering, passionate, loving—everything good I’d ever known about Raven was in that kiss, and I responded without thought. Before I knew it, my hands were in his hair, holding him to me, not wanting the embrace to end, and he devoured my mouth as though this kiss would be our last. Maybe he thought it would be.
Maybe I did, too.
Chapter Sixty-Five
T he Soldiers finished packing up and left right behind Tas and Raven, taking Perry’s Hummer with them.
And leaving me alone with Harrier.
“Good night,” I called to him as I headed back to the house. I was hoping to avoid the questions I was sure he had, and eager to get on with my moratorium on Vampires.
“Jessica, wait.”
I stopped at the porch door and waited.
“I suppose you want to make a liar out of me, see if I’ll invite you in for coffee?”
Harrier smiled a real smile that softened his features, making him seem almost approachable.
“Nah. Just wanted to make sure you’re really okay. Seemed like there was more going on here than you were willing to get into with the Rap…” I glared at him. “With Raven around.”
I thought about it a minute. I should tell him to go home, but I had so many questions. In spite of what I said to Raven, I was desperate to find out why that blood thing happened. I knew Raven would look into it, regardless of how we left things, but Harrier was here now, and I was hoping maybe he knew something. It never hurt to ask.
I decided to put a moratorium on the moratorium and asked him to come in. Raven would have fits if he knew I was talking to him, but I wasn’t afraid of Harrier anymore. In fact, he made me feel safe now. Protected, like I’d felt around Raven, only different somehow. My, how things change.
&n
bsp; “I’m out of French Roast, but I have mochaccino or plain old Folgers—pick your poison,” I offered.
“Got any of that tequila left?” he countered, and I thought he might have a point. I found the bottle Piper and I had tackled, and there was still enough for at least a couple shots each. I wasn’t driving, and he had a Vampire’s metabolism. We should be fine.
I waved the bottle of Cuervo at him with a conspiratorial smile and grabbed a couple of shot glasses from the cupboard, banging them on the table upside down. Harrier turned them over and, taking the bottle from me, filled them to the rims. Without a word, we slammed back the shots, banging the glasses on the table when we were done. No wimpy-ass salt and lime for us. Another pour, another shot, another bang, and I was ready to talk.
I sat down at the head of the table, and he took a chair on my near side. We sat for what seemed like hours, but with the tequila racing its way through my body, it might only have been a second or two.
“Can I see the wound?” he asked. Not the starting point I’d planned, but as good a place as any. I tried to pull the neck of my sweatshirt down for him to look, but you couldn’t really see anything. I should have thought twice about pulling my arm out and exposing myself to him, but it all seemed so clinical that it never crossed my mind. I tugged the shirt off my bad arm and over my head, covering my bare breasts with the hanging fabric.
Harrier leaned in to examine the damaged skin, oblivious to my near nakedness.
“How’s it look?” I asked, and he reached up to touch me. I didn’t flinch—thank you Jose—and when his fingers brushed my skin, it didn’t even hurt. He didn’t say anything, so I looked down to see what he was seeing. The skin was almost completely smooth, although it still looked red and irritated. It was another freakin’ miracle. Yippee.
“What did he do to you?” Harrier asked, turning his head as he motioned for me to redress.
“What do you think he did?” I shot back, a little harsher than I’d intended.
“I think he fed you his blood again, that’s what I think. I’m waiting for you to tell me I’m wrong.” When he faced me again, I shrugged, and Harrier hissed. “Ah, Jessica, why does he keep doing this to you?” I think it was a rhetorical question but I answered anyway.
“I’m pretty sure he was trying to save my life.”
“Humans have their own doctors. Couldn’t he have taken you to a hospital? I mean, I get the first one, but, Christ, Jessica.” Harrier sat back in his chair, grabbed the tequila bottle, and finished it off in one go, his russet hair falling across his eyes as he lowered the bottle.
“He gave me the choice,” I whispered, and Harrier’s arm jerked when he set the bottle down.
“He what?”
“He let me choose. I was losing a lot of blood, and the wound was bad. It looked like I’d been through a rending machine. I didn’t know what I would tell the doctors, and I guess knowing how thoroughly his blood would heal me—you know, no scars? I just…let him.”
My voice trailed off, unable to verbalize what happened next.
“If it was your choice, little one, why’re you so miserable?”
I took a deep breath, held it for a bit, let it out slowly. Sharing this with Harrier seemed like a betrayal to Raven, but I really needed a friend right now. Piper and Alex were out of the question, and Perry had his own things to deal with. Harrier was the closest thing to a sounding board that I had left.
“Something happened,” I said with a shrug. Harrier wasn’t breathing. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I suppose. I took a deep breath before continuing.
“Raven bit his wrist and offered it to me. Everything was fine at first, but I guess I sort of latched on, you know?” Harrier nodded, but was tense as a new strung bow. “Well, it’s all kind of muzzy, but I guess I sort of…umm…liked it?” I finished, afraid of what Harrier would think of me. I glanced up and his eyes were huge, sort of how I imagined I looked when I realized what I had done.
“What do you mean, you liked it?” he asked, trying to reserve judgment.
“I kinda, sorta—bit him,” I grimaced at the confession, my face turning every shade of red in the spectrum. I felt like I’d just confessed to liking nipple clamps or whips and chains.
“I don’t understand,” Harrier said, shaking his head, ignoring my embarrassment. “Was he glamouring you?”
“No, I would have known if he was in my head. I can feel it, you know? And Raven didn’t understand it either.” I don’t know what I expected, why I thought Harrier would have all the answers, but I was so bummed to learn that he didn’t.
“Do you remember anything from the Sorcerer incident?” he asked.
“No. I was more almost-deader then, than I was tonight,” I said, proper English be damned.
“I was there,” he reminded me. “I don’t think there was anything unusual about how you took his blood. I just—arrgh!” He stood up, almost knocking the chair over in the process. “You have any more?” he asked, pointing at the empty bottle.
“No, but there’s amoretto,” I said, and he made a face that almost made me laugh.
Harrier leaned up against the sink, and I noticed the bloody tweezers were still lying near the faucet.
“Harrier?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to turn into a Vampire, am I?” An unexpected tear slid down my cheek. Harrier knelt in front of me and forced me to look him in the eye.
“No,” he said emphatically. “That I can guarantee. It is absolutely not possible for you to be turned.”
“Promise?” I asked, feeling extremely vulnerable.
“I promise,” he said. A sadness beyond what current circumstances warranted marked his features briefly, but was gone so fast I could have imagined it.
With a shake of his head, Harrier ruffled my hair and said, “Jessica, Jessica. How do you keep getting pulled into all this shit?”
I shrugged, “Just lucky, I guess.”
“No, it’s him,” he stood up calmly. Too calmly. “Your life would be much simpler if he had never been part of it.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But if he hadn’t landed on my door step, I never would have met you.” I think I surprised him, and maybe it was the tequila talking, but I then did something even more unexpected. I got up, put my hands on his shoulders, and stood on my tippy toes, giving him a kiss on the cheek before impulsively hugging his neck.
It was kind of like hugging a tree for a minute, but when I didn’t let go, he put his arms around me and hugged back. It wasn’t sexual, not even close. It was kind of like hugging a brother, like hugging Alex, only less so because I knew Harrier wasn’t attracted to me any more than I was to him. It was just nice.
And I felt better. When Harrier said I couldn’t be turned, I believed him because he had nothing to gain one way or another. I didn’t think Raven would lie to me, but I also didn’t think he would say anything to frighten me if he thought it could be avoided.
No, Harrier was the WYSIWYG of the Vampire world—what you see is what you get. I was confident that I could always count on him to be honest with me, no matter what.
When I let him go, Harrier took a step back, and regarded me a moment before walking toward the door. I walked with him, to be polite.
“Thanks for the snort,” he said, and I giggled, feeling a bit giddy. Tipsy was probably a better word.
“By the way, the real reason I came out tonight?”
“You mean it wasn’t just to piss Raven off?”
He smiled a wicked smile as he reached for the door and said, “That was a bonus. Actually, I’m going out of town for a while, trying to clear up still more of your boyfriend’s mess. Not sure when I’ll be back, but…” He shifted his feet uncomfortably as he turned the knob. “Guess I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” I said. Weren’t we both full of surprises tonight. “Well then, have a safe trip.”
“Right,” he nodded at me. “And try not to get
dead while I’m away,” he added before closing the door behind him.
Chapter Sixty-Six
R aven sat in the War Room, trying to focus as Merlin listed the details of the previous night. Another girl was dead, and even though it was not by Raven’s hand, he still felt guilty. He was being targeted by someone, that was obvious, but two questions plagued them all—who and how?
Raven’s first instinct was to suspect the Sorcerer, Helmut Fuhrmann, who held Raven responsible for his wife’s death, and rightfully so. She had been the witch who cursed Raven so many centuries ago. Fuhrmann was still out there, and had proven that he was willing to defy even his own race to exact his revenge on Raven.
The only problem with this theory? Fuhrmann looked nothing like Raven. He certainly had the motive, and intimate knowledge of the kind of damage Raven was known to inflict on his victims.
However, Jessica had been adamant that the person committing the murders was Raven. There was no way that skinny white-haired bastard would ever be mistaken for Raven’s dark complexion and broad build. Unless, as Tas had suggested, there was some kind of magic potion that could change a person into someone else.
But this was the real world, not Harry Potter.
Besides, Jessica’s visions would have told her something was off. Surely she would have seen the true form of the monster, and she said it was him. If she said she saw Raven, the only explanation was that Raven had a doppelganger running around. A monster not content to simply look like him, but who essentially wanted to be him. The old him.
It had to be a feral. Your average Vampire wouldn’t be caught dead impersonating the former enemy of the Primeval. So he was probably off radar, unregistered, and seriously fucked in the head.