Shaking his head, Aden heated up a glass of blood and drank it while standing silently against the counter. The scratch, scratch, scratch of Daniel’s pen on the paper sounding as loud as gunshots to his anxious brain. He had until tomorrow night to rescue Carissa from the pack, and there was no room for error. If he was correct in his suspicions, he knew why tomorrow was so important. They would want Carissa mated to a werewolf before the moonrise of her first shift—leaving her available to her new husband on the most fertile lycan night. Aden’s hand vised around his coffee mug, cracking the empty cup in half.
Over my dead body!
Cursing under his breath, he tossed the mug in the trash just as Daniel tore a page from the notebook. Aden wiped his hands on his jeans. First thing’s first.
He walked up and snatched the paper from Daniel’s hand. “Let me double check it, old man.”
“Come on!” Daniel sputtered indignantly, “When have my calculations ever been wrong?”
Aden raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Well—”
“Shut up,” his mentor interrupted, his face red as a ripe tomato, “That was one time!”
“In the last week,” Aden muttered, his eyes perusing the hastily drawn map of their evening’s plans. If all went well, he’d have all the answers he needed before the night was over. He passed the paper back to Daniel. “For once, I don’t see an issue, old man. If we can capture the slayer, maybe we can finally get some answers.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped open. “C-capture? But—”
Aden held up a hand. The deer-in-the-headlights look his mentor had was enough to fuel his suspicions to new heights. Daniel might not be courting death, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t on death’s side. Aden had a sneaking suspicion he was about to be led into a trap.
“But, nothing,” he said quietly, “I told you I won’t be killing again unless I have to. If you aren’t on board with this, there’s the door. I have bigger things to worry about right now.”
Daniel’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. Were the situation not so serious, Aden would have found his expression amusing. He watched worry flicker in his mentor’s eyes, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well?” he asked. “Are we going to do this my way, or are you ready to spill your secrets?”
Had it been possible for Daniel's eyes to bug out further, they would have. He gaped at Aden. “What secrets? I’ve told you everything,” he said, his voice too controlled to be truthful.
Aden raised an eyebrow and tapped his foot. “So…my way, then?”
Daniel’s mouth set in a hard line. “I have my reasons,” he muttered under his breath, so low Aden almost didn’t catch it, then louder, he said, “Yes. We’ll do it your way, Aden. And when we’re done, we’ll go get your girl.”
Aden stopped on his way to the door, turning a sharp look in Daniel’s direction. “What did you just say? I didn’t say anything about Carissa.”
His mentor crossed his arms over his chest and kept his silence. Aden could feel the night becoming darker, and as much as he hated it, knew he had no choice but to leave it be. Two short strides and he stood in front of the older man. He twisted his fist in Daniel’s shirt and pulled him until they stood nose to nose.
“If this is a trap, old man, I’ll be rethinking my decision not to kill tonight,” he growled out through clenched teeth.
Eyes even wider, Daniel gulped without a word. Aden released him, banking his fury for the moment and strode out of the house. As they walked down the street, he knew, as certain as he was of his love for Carissa, that there’d be blood on his hands before the full moon rose—and that this time, he’d enjoy it.
Chapter Forty-One
The night sizzled with tension as they ran, their inhuman speed eating up the distance in no time at all. They arrived not long after, where Aden discovered the slayer in the same room as before—a highly suspicious coincidence. The chill under the humid night air told him something was wrong with the situation, but his friend was no help.
Aden tapped Daniel on the shoulder while they stood by the road. “Something’s wrong with this, man. Remember what I told you. I won’t hesitate to kill you if this is a trap and you have something to do with it.”
The older vampire stiffened, but his placid expression never changed. “I’m sure this is a trap, but it’s not what you think.”
Before Aden could respond, Daniel hurried to the door, and motioned for the younger vampire to stand on the other side. Aden approached cautiously, his senses on high alert. He could hear someone moving around inside the room, and knew he’d have but one chance to subdue the slayer. Pulling the potion from his pocket, he readied it as he gestured for Daniel to open the door. His friend did so, and disappeared inside without a sound.
Then, Aden heard something that made his blood run cold. A woman’s voice, as sticky-sweet as the night that cocooned him outside the hotel. “Come inside Aden, and put down the vial.”
The sickening sound belonged to Jasmine, his ex-girlfriend, sire, and Vampire High Council member. He had two choices: he could leave Daniel to an undetermined fate and run, or he could go inside and hope for the best.
He was clumsy, but he’d never been a coward.
Aden dripped a couple of drops of potion onto the buckle of his watch, taking care not to touch his own skin. Screwing the lid shut, he placed it on the ground, hidden in the grass, then squared his shoulders and walked through the doorway. At first glance, Aden didn’t see Daniel, but when the door closed behind him, he knew where his friend was hiding.
Aden glared at the older vampire as Daniel walked over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jasmine. Another man—likely the slayer—stood slightly apart, on her other side. He was taller than everyone else, standing at least six foot four, and his build was lanky, with bulging biceps peeking from under the sleeves of his shirt. The man’s hair was long and matted, covering most of his face, and the little bit of exposed skin sported a multitude of nasty scars.
Judging by the putrid smell, the were-beast wasn’t a cuddly pup.
Aden wrinkled his nose and hooked his thumbs in his pockets without speaking. Eleanor was right—he should have been a little more careful about whom he trusted.
Jasmine looked at him with interest, her eyes narrowing as a smile played over her ruby lips. “You look a bit more life-like than the last time I saw you, Aden.”
He raised an eyebrow as she stepped closer. She stalked him like a cat stalks weak prey. Circling him, she traced a crimson nail around the skin of his neck. “I wondered how you would take to the gift. A werewolf turned vampire.” She laughed—the sound unlike the bells it used to be, now as nerve-pinching as nails on a chalkboard.
Jasmine’s amused smile stayed in place as she pressed her mouth lightly to his, tracing her tongue over his lower lip. “Mmmm. I see you still taste the same. It’s a pity I have to kill you.”
She stepped back and gestured the slayer to come forward. “Bert! Remove the mutt’s boots and make sure he’s not armed.”
Aden sat in the chair to his left and allowed the man to do as instructed. When the slayer found nothing, Daniel finally spoke. “See? I told you he never carries a weapon.”
Jasmine moved in front of him. “Where’s the potion, Aden?”
He glared at her and said nothing.
“Go look for it,” she told the slayer, “Check the grass around the door. Daniel assured me he had it on him when they arrived.”
Bert did as she told him, but came back quickly. “The ground is trampled, ma’am, but the vial isn’t there.”
The slayer moved behind her, as she focused her attention on Aden. “I don’t know how you pulled that off, but it hardly matters at the moment. I have what I want.” Jasmine flipped her raven hair over her shoulder, slapping Aden in the face with it as she turned her attention to Daniel. “Get the stake,” she told him.
Bert followed his mistress’s gaze, leaving no eyes on their captiv
e. Taking advantage of the distraction, Aden leapt to his feet. With a guttural roar that made them jump, he charged, knocking Jasmine off her feet and into the slayer. As the two went sprawling, Aden ignored their cries of surprise and bolted from the room. He cleared the parking lot in seconds and disappeared into the trees. He didn’t care where he ran, just as long as he was safe. Unfortunately, he could hear the brush crashing behind him, and he could smell the beast on his heels—the swamp wasn’t usually filled with the scent of rotting meat and alcohol.
Ducking under branches, Aden sprinted around bushes, praying his clumsiness wouldn’t catch up with him. Alas, he couldn’t escape himself. He came skidding around a curve, breaking through the trees onto a cleared path, where his foot slid in a patch of mud, and he fell face-first onto the damp ground. The wind knocked out of him at the impact, he grunted and rolled, his movements too slow to thwart the attack of the slayer in non-human form. The werewolf landed, snarling, on Aden’s chest, pinning him into the mud. The creature growled low and reared back, preparing to strike.
Aden brought his left arm up and the wolf mashed his jaws around the watch, sinking one row of teeth deep into the vampire’s wrist. He snarled and shook his head, flapping Aden’s arm around like a rag. The animal growled, a mixture of blood and saliva dripping onto the ground, the putrid scent stinging Aden’s nostrils almost worse than the pain of the bite. Then suddenly the wolf stopped moving. His eyes bulged, rolling back in his head as he whimpered. The jaws sprung open, releasing Aden’s arm, and the wolf let out one long, mournful howl before collapsing onto the vampire’s chest. As Aden tried to push him off, the wolf convulsed, shimmering back into a disgusting human before disintegrating into bloody dust.
The potion had accomplished its job, and although he hadn’t enjoyed this death, Aden didn’t regret it. Head pounding, he gained his feet. The bite burned with unholy fire, the pain of it stabbing torches of fire into his nerves. He clamped his hand over the puncture marks to stem the flow of blood as he studied his surroundings. Knowing the area was his advantage. He didn’t have much time. Jasmine and Daniel couldn’t have been far behind the werewolf.
Removing his shirt, he tore it into strips, and tied the makeshift bandage over his arm, shoving the extra scraps of fabric into his back pocket. Now Aden could hear the other vampires’ footsteps as they made their way cautiously through the woods. Cursing under his breath, Aden knew he needed to get out of there, but there was no way he could outrun two healthy vampires with the werewolf venom taking effect. Already his skin tingled, starting at the wound and radiating across the rest of his body. Zaps of electricity attacked each and every one of his nerves, causing him to feel as if his legs would give out at any moment.
Aden was so jittery he could barely stand upright. He heard the hiss of an alligator at his back, and the footsteps of his enemies approaching the break in the trees. He looked around at the trees and water, the solution dawning on him with all the brightness of the sun at midnight.
Body shaking, Aden staggered to the bank of the bayou. He waded in, deeper and deeper, trying desperately to stir the water as little as possible. When he reached the deepest point, the water was up to his chin, but he could feel tree roots beneath his feet.
Being a vampire meant he didn’t necessarily have to breathe, but some habits were hard to break, so he took a deep breath and sank under the water; grabbing the wet wood to be sure he didn’t bob to the surface.
The water stilled in the nick of time, leaving only a very disinterested alligator as a witness.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Where did he go?” Jasmine hissed as she and Daniel reached the edge of the water.
“I don’t know.” Daniel shrugged as he crouched down, reaching out to rub the copper dust on the ground between his fingers. He looked up at his companion. “He must have had the potion on him, still. I’m pretty sure this was Bert.”
Jasmine kneeled beside him. “You’re positive? I didn’t think the old witch’s potion could do that much damage.”
“Well, it can—and I said ‘pretty sure,’ not ‘positive.” This could belong to someone else, but that’s unlikely. Still, since we didn’t see what happened, there’s no way to know for sure.” Daniel stood up, dusting his hands on his jeans. He frowned in disgust. “Either way, that’s definitely not a pleasant way to go.”
“No, I wouldn’t think it is.” She rose to her feet as well, and gestured to the path. “Where do you think he went? I can’t smell him.” She turned and eyed the water—and the large alligator staring at them from the murky stillness.
Moving beside her, Daniel shook his head. “Not that way, I’m sure. He just killed a werewolf. I doubt he’d want to end the evening by throwing himself into the bayou.”
Jasmine rested her hands on her hips, and gazed up at him through half-closed eyes. “Are you certain of that? Could your friendship be clouding the issue?”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “My friendship? Friendship doesn’t outrank my loyalty to the Council, I assure you.” He smirked and mimicked her movement with the wave of his right hand. “But if you’d like to search the water, be my guest.”
Jasmine shuddered and took a step back. “No. I think I’d rather not.” She eyed the empty path again. “He’s probably out of town by now. We need to consult with the Pack Master and let Myrick know of the sorceress’s potion. We’ll get your friend later. He won’t be able to resist the ceremony, will he?”
Daniel began walking down the path. “No, he won’t. He’ll do anything to rescue his woman—even risk us finding him.”
“You’re sure?”
Jasmine couldn’t see his eyes cloud over in the darkness, or the venom that lit his gaze as he watched her step in front of him to lead the way. “I’m counting on it,” he muttered.
Aden listened as Jasmine and Daniel scoped out the area, their voices tinny and distant, with few of their words penetrating the dirty water covering his hidden body. He waited twenty minutes after he heard the last muted rumble of their footsteps before he was comfortable climbing out. Shaking off the water, he glanced at his arm. The tingling had stopped, but he was light headed from loss of blood. Taking a chance, he snuck back to his house for sustenance, clean, dry clothes, and his backup pair of boots. He cleaned his wound—he was surprised it hadn’t healed already—and bandaged it properly. He grabbed some extra clothes, packed up his laptop, and filled a small cooler with ice and the rest of his supply of blood.
Aden didn’t bother locking his door as he headed back out into the night. He’d hole up in the secret space beneath Eleanor’s shack until tomorrow night. Once rested, his first order of business would be finding Carissa – before any kind of ceremony – and his second would be finding his treacherous friend and the bitch who changed him. Knowing Jasmine, Aden was sure they wouldn’t be looking for him in town, so he didn’t bother using his speed to get where he needed to go. She was so confident she could run anyone off; she often forgot she wasn’t as scary as she thought she was. Flexing his muscles, his feet connecting with the concrete in furious, but soundless steps, Aden mulled over the different ways he could complete his goals.
Impulse dictated a straightforward, in their face, fight to the death. Instinct, however, spoke in hushed tones of sneak attacks and informed choices—and as he looked down at his freshly bandaged arm—the possibility of shifting. However, as much as Aden wanted to go in and rip the throats out of the Vampire Council members and the people holding Carissa captive, he knew instinct would win. The last thing he wanted was to find out the hard way that he wouldn’t have control over his body when the wolf took over. But if he was wrong, if he could control it, what a glorious battle he could wage…
His mind filled with thoughts of spilling blood, Aden looked up at the moon, a curious feeling invading his body. Unknown strength blossomed in his muscles as the tingling sensation came back. It raced up his arm, overwhelming his senses, giving him no chance at all to prepare for th
e onslaught. The wolf awoke inside him and howled in pleasure at the thought of sticky red death. Aden’s eyes popped wide, the air around him taking on the bright gray tint of power. The sound coming from his lips was a hauntingly human tone, but full of animalistic rage. His wolf’s howl was not the sound of discovery.
It was the sound of vengeance.
T crossed the room, steps hesitant. “Sir, Ryker’s man is dead, and Jasmine and Daniel lost Aden’s trail at the swamp.”
The sorcerer kept his eyes glued to the images swirling inside his crystal ball. He waved off his assistant’s words with an impatient hand. “That’s the least of my concerns right now.”
“Sir?”
“I have seen glimmers, and all will play out as planned, even without our hands involved. There is love between the werewolf princess and our vampire. They will not fail us.” He gestured to the orb. “There is dissention amongst some of our followers, Jeremiah in particular. He believes his pet sorceress to be under his control, but she is not. I want them watched, T, more than I want you to oversee the pack business in Jaune. Sometime in the next couple of months, I foresee Jeremiah becoming a problem. I need someone I trust to ensure the damage is kept to a minimum.”
“You can count on me, sir.” T took a deep breath. “I do have other news, however, on this pack business. I have it on good authority that the eldest daughter is finally breeding. One of the other pack members said that Gwyneth has been ill as of late. I don’t believe she has confirmed the possibility, but all the signs are there.”
“Good. That’s very good. This means we have a backup should things fall through with the younger sister.”
“My thoughts exactly, sir.”
“One last thing, T. Send a liaison to Talvin’s Realm. If there is anyone capable of finding Annixia, I believe it to be him, and I need her to fulfill her curse.”
Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1) Page 24