She nodded, not the least bit surprised that Liam had come to the same conclusion she had. They’d always been in sync on their cases. One of the reasons she’d been so drawn to him.
Their minds worked alike.
And their bodies were pure fire together.
“Should have been a perfect setup,” Liam continued. “But the bastard didn’t contend with that guy—” he jerked his thumb toward the operating room “—fighting so hard to live.”
“I figure them for twins,” Sadie said. Only thing that made sense. A sigh as her shoulders fell. “I’m guessing the prick who left him for dead didn’t count on him being strong enough to survive.” A hard smile, one that she knew showed her sharp teeth. “He was wrong.”
Miller ran a shaking hand down his face. “So the killer’s still out there? Hunting on Miami streets?”
Unfortunately.
“Christ.” He reached for his phone. Pressed speed dial. “Jennings, get the men back on the streets.”
Sadie watched him pace away.
“You saved his life, you know.” Liam reached for her hand.
Her lips twisted. “Maybe, maybe not.” Attacked like that, by his own brother. What kind of life had he led?
Hell. Jacob would sooner bite off his own hand than ever hurt her.
Blind. She’d never met a leopard shifter who couldn’t see. The senses were so much a part of the beast.
And so necessary for hunting.
“You gave him a chance, then.” He nodded. “Better than letting him take a bullet—which would have happened without you.”
Her hand turned in his grasp so that her fingers locked with his. “Thanks for backing me up.”
Liam’s head inclined toward her. “Don’t you know yet, love, I’ll always back you?”
Yeah, she knew. No, she’d thought she knew that he’d have her back. Until he’d left her all alone in a house that smelled of him. He’d been with her so much in her home and in her bed, that his scent had marked everything.
As he’d marked her.
Every day—every damn day—she’d smelled him and thought that he was lost to her.
“Why, Liam?”
His brows pulled low. “I don’t know what makes a man cross the line and start killin’—”
“No.” Sadie wet her lips, rose to stand right in front of him. She had to find out, because she hurt. In her heart, the one he’d touched. Then and now. “Why did you leave me?”
Understanding flashed in his eyes even as his lips tightened. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”
She wasn’t going to let him off that easily. Her shoulders stiffened. “There are always choices. You could have come to me—told me what happened—”
“And what?” His voice was harder, the Irish he could hide when he wanted rolling under the words now. “Have you turn from me? Call me a monster? You tried to kill me when you realized I was a vampire!”
“If I’d wanted you dead, the stake would have been in your heart.” Hell, she felt like the one who’d taken a weapon to the heart. Damaged. Broken. She’d been like that for two years. “Didn’t you ever think about me?” Sadie couldn’t believe she was even asking him the question. Where was her pride?
But she had to know. She’d thought about him—
“Every night. You were the last thing I thought of before sleepin’ and the first thing on wakin’.”
The hole in her heart closed a bit and her breath seemed to come easier at the absolute truth she saw on his face. “But you never came back to me.” Because, as he’d said before, he thought she was a human and wouldn’t be able to handle him? No, it just didn’t ring true, there had to be something more.
He caught her hands. Held tight to her. “Sadie, I’m not the man you remember.”
No.
“After I got out of containment, I-I did things…things I never thought I’d do.”
Her hands were still in his grasp, but her heart pounded too fast and she knew, with his enhanced vampire hearing, that he heard the hard beats. “Tell me.” The darkness was within him. She’d seen it from the beginning. Maybe, if he’d stayed just a man, the shadows in his soul would have eventually disappeared. But he wasn’t just a man.
“You know the stories about the Born Masters…” No Irish, just cold, dark words.
The vampires who’d been born, not made. The ones who had the strongest psychic powers and the deadliest desires. Sadie nodded.
“Well, those tales don’t even scratch the surface.” An orderly walked down the hall and Liam paused, waiting until the man vanished. “The Borns can touch the minds of all they make—but it’s not just through the blood link. They can control, sneak inside, and steal every damn thought you have.”
Goose bumps rose on her flesh. She’d never encountered one of the Born Masters. Few had, and lived to spread the story.
“Ozur—”
Ozur. Oh, shit. Her claws sprang at the mention of his name. She’d heard of that ancient Viking killer. Insane, bloodthirsty, and sadistic. He’d left a trail of bodies around the globe.
“He’s the one who turned me that night and, later, he tried to control me.”
Her heart stilled, then raced in a triple-time beat. “What did you do?” Not her Liam, he wouldn’t hurt—
“I incinerated the bastard.”
Her breath left her in a startled rush. “What? How?” As far as she knew, only level ten demons were strong enough to control fire to the degree needed to—
He laughed, but it was a harsh, cold rumble of sound. “I let the bastard think he had me. I drank from the prey he gave me, I hunted his enemies, and I got close. And when he rested, I fuckin’ torched him.”
Silence.
Then the intercom crackled to life as a Dr. Tom Brown was paged to ICU.
Liam dropped her hands. “Don’t look at me like that.”
What? She shook her head. “No, Liam, I—”
“I did what I had to do in order to survive. I didn’t kill the prey he gave me. I let them live, Sadie, and when that prick was dead, I freed them. Yeah, I killed other vampires, I killed demons, but not innocents. Not—”
She rose onto her toes and kissed him, shutting off the tumble of his words and offering him the only comfort she could.
I fuckin’ torched him. She’d heard the agony in his voice. Knew that he’d lived through hell.
His arms swept around her, nearly crushing her with his too strong grip. His mouth was frantic on hers. Kissing. Taking. Tongue driving between her lips.
She met him back with full passion and hunger. To know the torment he’d lived broke her heart.
Liam.
He ripped his mouth from hers. Breath ragged, eyes wide, he stared down at her. “You still want me?” Stunned disbelief.
What had he expected? “I’ll always want you, Liam.” Utter, stark truth.
His gaze, darkening, held hers. “I watched you.” An admission that seemed torn from him. His fingers tightened around her, holding her in a grip that would have probably been painful for a human.
For her, it felt just right.
“October twelfth, last year, I came to you. Watched you—you were walking in the rain, just before dawn. Going to your house.”
She remembered. She’d smelled him. Caught the faintest trace of his scent on the wind and ached for an hour because she’d missed him so much. She’d thought the scent was just a trick of her mind.
“I’d just killed Ozur. His blood was on my hands. I wanted you so badly but I couldn’t go back to you. I was a killer, am a killer, and I couldn’t ask you to accept me.”
Her hands pressed against his chest. Such a strong chest. Sculpted muscles. Beneath the flesh and bone, she could feel his heart. Pounding out a frantic rhythm that matched hers. “You don’t have to ask, Liam. I want you, all of you.”
She’d given him her blood and her body. She wasn’t turning from him now.
The doors of the OR swished open behind hi
m. Liam turned at the sound, and Sadie saw a tall, golden-skinned doctor storm toward them.
His face was all angles and harsh planes, his eyes a dark silver. He pointed at them, one long finger raised. “You.” His coat flapped behind him.
Oh, no. This couldn’t be good news. Hell, if that shifter hadn’t made it, then—
“Why the hell did you bring a shifter to my OR?” The doctor, whose name tag read Dr. Jonas Micco, glared at Liam.
Sadie stepped forward. She wanted to jump Liam and let the wild sex settle things between them, but now wasn’t the time, and with the furious doc glaring at them, certainly not the place. “I brought him here.” Her nostrils twitched. This guy didn’t smell like a vampire or a shifter. A human?
She studied him again, noticing the closely cropped black hair and high cheekbones. Native American. The Other had always heavily populated their ranks.
“To a human hospital?” He shook his head. “What, you want him to be on the six o’clock news as a freak show?”
He was about to piss her off. A growl rumbled in her throat. His eyes widened and the doctor backed up a step. Good move. “We didn’t have a choice,” she told him, voice cool. “He was dying on us.” It had been the human hospital or nothing.
“Well…” He exhaled and seemed to become a bit calmer. “You’re damn lucky I was on rotation tonight.”
“Is the guy still alive?” Liam asked.
“Yeah, alive and healing at an in-freaking-credible rate.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “You’ve got to get him out of here before folks start asking questions.”
She caught Miller’s cheap cologne scent behind her. “Will do.” Her head cocked as she studied the doctor. “You know, we could use someone like you…”
Another hasty step back. “I’m not a shifter.”
“No.” But he knew the score, and someone like him—a guy with medical training who wouldn’t start screaming if he cut open a body and saw two hearts inside—he’d be a serious asset. “But you’re someone who knows all about the real world, aren’t you?”
She didn’t need his grim nod for confirmation.
“I know about it, and want to stay the hell away from it.” His jaw was clenched when he gritted, “I’ve seen just how much hell the Other can wreak.” He jerked his thumb toward the ER. “He wants to see you, and I want you to get him out of my hospital before I have to convince any more nurses that they imagined skin sealing back up on its own.” Shifter flesh could mend itself. Not a perfect repair—the flesh would be lined with a faint red scar at the wound site, but it was still a damn amazing trick.
A genetic trait she’d always loved.
He spun away from them just as Miller arrived. “Hey,” he began, eyes on the doctor’s retreating back, “is that the doctor who—”
“Shifter’s ready to talk,” Sadie cut through his words, deciding, for now, not to mention the full details of her conversation with the doctor. She knew a scared man when she saw one, and if she told Miller about the doctor right then, well, Micco’s choices would be ripped away.
Like hers and Liam’s had been.
He whistled. “Damn, that was fast. Thought the cat was dead.”
She was already marching toward the swinging doors, with Liam at her side. “Well, you know the old saying, cats have nine lives.” More than that, really.
“Yeah,” Miller muttered behind her, “but I think that shifter used up about twelve.”
True.
Liam’s hand shoved open the green door.
They stepped inside.
And found the shifter on his feet, clothed in a loose hospital gown, with fangs bared and claws up.
Oh, hell.
No wonder the doctor was freaking out.
Chapter Seven
Liam’s first instinct was to fight. To go in punching and slashing with his own claws, but Sadie stepped in front of him, chilling the blood in his veins and making him realize that his lady walked on the wild side way too much.
“It’s all right.” Her voice was pitched low. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
The shifter’s eyes, bright, glassy green, locked right on her. “I smell you,” he spat. “I know what you are.” That stare shot to Liam. “And what you are.”
“We didn’t do this to you.” Still low, soothing. Sadie crept toward him. They were lucky, all of the nurses and doctors had cleared out, probably courtesy of Dr. Micco. “We didn’t—”
“I know who the hell did this to me!” Fury. Pain. “The bastard who’s spent thirty years trying to kill me. Thirty damn years.” His blond mane shook. “He didn’t succeed before, and he won’t.”
Liam kept his attention fully on the shifter. Sadie might feel pity for the man, after the hell he’d been through, but Liam knew a wounded beast was one seriously dangerous beast. One most likely to bite off the hand that wanted to help him.
No one would be biting Sadie but him.
If he had to throw the shifter across the room to protect her, he was more than ready for the job.
She still wants me. She’d looked at him with honest desire in her eyes. She knew the truth about him, and she still wanted him.
Hell, no, he wasn’t about to let anyone hurt so much as a single hair on her gorgeous head.
“Ease up, shifter,” he ordered, aware of Miller stumbling to a stop behind him. “We pulled your body out of that dump and saved your hide.”
“Hell. Knew we should have killed him.” Miller’s quiet mutter.
The shifter’s head snapped up. “What?” His nostrils flared. “You. The trigger happy moron.”
Uh-oh. Looked like the shifter hadn’t been quite as out of it as they’d thought.
Silence.
Then Miller brushed past Liam. Liam lifted his brows but made no move to stop the man. If Miller wanted a beating, fine by him.
“That’s Special Agent Miller, cat. And, yeah, I’m the one who almost put a bullet in your head.” His right hand brushed back his jacket, revealing his weapon.
Didn’t the guy understand that if the shifter decided to attack, he’d never have time to so much as draw his weapon?
Apparently not because Miller continued, “When I got dead women in the city, butchered women, I don’t play nice. The last vic is alive, thank Christ, but—”
The shifter was on him in an instant. “Su is alive?” Hope had his face lighting up like some kind of candle.
Ah. Sadie glanced back, met Liam’s gaze. No denying the connection there.
He gave a slight nod.
“Liam saved her,” Sadie said. “She’s in this hospital, recovering and—”
“What the hell?” Miller shook off the shifter’s hold. “Why are you telling him?”
“Because now, he’s going to tell us some information.” Her left eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you, shifter? Tit for tat. You wanna know about the vic, you tell us about the bastard who tried to slice you open.”
Tried? The guy had been sliced open.
The shifter’s shoulders fell. He turned around, paced a few steps away, and gave Liam an unfortunate view of his arse, courtesy of the gaping gown.
Liam glanced up, found Sadie getting the same view. He snarled.
The shifter spun back around. “He—he’s my brother. Michael Munroe.” He gestured to his face. “Twin brother, but I guess you already knew that, huh?”
Liam stared into the face that was the perfect reflection of a killer’s. “He set you up—you know that, right? He wanted us to find your body and think that you were the killer.”
A nod.
“Where is he?” A demand from Sadie.
“I don’t know, I—”
“He has to have a safe house around here. Friends. Hunting grounds.” She pushed relentlessly. “Tell us. We can’t let another woman die!”
“Dammit, I know that!” His hands shot into the air. “Don’t you think I fucking hate him? He took Su!”
“Just who is this Su to you?” M
iller asked. “A lover—”
“She could have been.” His shoulders fell. “She could have been…everything.”
Almost helplessly, Liam’s gaze rose to Sadie.
Everything.
Poor bastard. He knew just how the guy felt.
“Now, she’ll never be mine.” Desolation washed across his face. “Because of that sick asshole!”
“Where is he?” Sadie asked the question again.
“I don’t know.” His lips pressed together for a moment, then, “Hiding. Waiting. Getting ready to watch the news and see the story about the dead body that was found—my body.”
A story he wouldn’t see and he’d become enraged.
“You’re coming with us,” Miller said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Until this bastard’s caught and I know for absolute certain that you weren’t involved.”
“Involved? I’m not a killer!”
“Sure you are.” Miller glanced from his face to the claws that were still out. “Everyone is, human and Other, deep inside. All that matters is how much of a push it takes to get the killer out.”
Liam knew that, for once, Miller spoke the truth.
“You stay under guard,” Miller continued. “Until your brother’s body is at my feet.”
They took the shifter to a safe house, one surrounded by guards who were Other.
Sadie tossed a suitcase onto the floor near the guy, Kyle. Kyle Munroe. Miller had sent an agent out to get clothes for him. “You should have everything you need.”
Liam waited for her, just outside the room. She hesitated. She knew she should go but—
“You don’t have to pity me.” The man’s shoulders were stiff, his back to her. Clad now in green scrubs—courtesy of Dr. Micco—he wasn’t flashing golden skin any longer.
His words had her flushing. “I-I don’t.” Okay, she did. The guy’s brother was a psychotic who’d tried to kill him. She had a brother who faced devils to protect her.
“I might not be able to see, but it doesn’t mean I’m weak.” Harsh.
Her lips parted in surprise. “No, it’s not because of—”
He turned toward her and his eyes zeroed instantly on to her face. “You’re five-foot-two, one hundred fifteen pounds. You’ve got blond hair, you use rose-scented shampoo, and you’ve been fucking the vampire who is pacing outside the door.”
Belong To The Night Page 24