Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1))

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Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1)) Page 7

by Dawn Chartier


  “I’m ready.” Mike stood and wheeled around. His focus drifted, a frown turning down his mouth.

  Trace spun on his heels. The council’s second-in-command leaned against the doorframe. Not now.

  “Hello boys.”

  He stiffened and cursed. This was not the best time for a meeting. “Deveraux.” He nodded. “Can we do this later?”

  Dev smirked. “No.”

  Trace groaned inwardly. “Look. There is a mortal in danger. A man kidnapped her and he plans to hurt her or worse…kill her. We are running out of time.” Trace walked past Dev. Dev’s hand shot out and gripped his arm. Trace glared at him.

  “Is this mortal in danger from the Vry?” Dev asked knowing damn well she wasn’t.

  “You know she’s not.” Trace glanced at Dev’s hand on his arm.

  Deveraux shook his head. “Then leave her be.” He released Trace’s arm. “She is none of the Pry’s concern.”

  Mike cleared his throat. “Then why are you here? What’s the problem?”

  Dev growled at Mike. “You are the problem, Mikal.”

  Mike hated when Dev used his formal name.

  “Me?”

  “One of our insiders at the police station received a call stating that you are linked to a murder. They found a woman’s body, and recovered a knife at the scene. The Morgan’s blade, the one Trace gave you. They’re running it for prints soon.”

  Mike frowned. “Shit. That doesn’t mean anything. I didn’t do it.”

  “Maybe not this time. Maybe not you.” Dev glared at Trace. The words hit him head on. The council still blamed him for Jessica’s death. Not actually killing her, but for getting involved with a human. Dating them wasn’t against their laws, but turning them into Poryria was. Trace hadn’t turned her, which proved he didn’t do it. She’d died hours before he’d arrived, and he’d vowed since her death he’d never get involved again. But, for some reason he found himself worried for another woman’s welfare. Hell. It was more than that.

  Trace sensed Dev hid something from them. Maybe to do with Mike’s future? Too bad Mike couldn’t read Dev’s mind. Damn, they had a mess on their hands. But first things first—Kira.

  “Man, we’ll come as soon as we finish. You know I don’t beg, but I will.” He paused. “Dev… ” Trace stared the council’s right-hand man down. He wouldn’t give in. He had to find Kira before it was too late.

  Dev glared at Mike and then back to Trace. “Make it fast. Five hours.”

  A gush of air rushed from Trace’s lungs as relief filled him. Trace nodded to Mike, and in the blink of a Poryria eye, they vanished, then reappeared in Mike’s vehicle. Burnt rubber filled the air behind them with a cloud of smoke. They had to make up for lost time.

  “Can’t this thing go any faster?” Trace yelled.

  Mike turned a cold glare on him and punched the pedal. “Better?”

  No. It wasn’t better. It wouldn’t be until he had Kira back in his arms.

  They found Jeff’s house. The modern home appeared empty. He’d give Jeff ten minutes to arrive before he would search the other address. He clenched his teeth, grinding them, waiting impatiently.

  A growl vibrated his chest when a jeep sped into the drive. Even in the darkness, he zeroed in on the driver and recognized the asshole brother-in-law, Jeff from the hospital. He and Mike kept hidden while Jeff walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle and lifted Kira into his arms.

  “Shh. You’re growling, man.” Mike whispered.

  Trace narrowed his eyes. “So?” He sniffed, catching a familiar scent. Tremors jolted through, hitting him like a brick in the face. That memorable odor at the bridge was Jeff’s. He must have followed them to his house, and then followed Kira to the hotel. Damn it. How could he have been so stupid? Since being around her, he lowered his guard. It fell around his ankles, exposing him for the lonely beast he was.

  “Why are we here? I thought you said we were going somewhere?” Trace heard disappointment mixed with fear in Kira’s voice.

  “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” Jeff gripped her arms and shook her.

  “Say when,” Mike whispered.

  Trace stiffened. His arms tingled, then burned, as though his blood boiled beneath his skin. He glanced down and recognized the scorched flesh patterns etched in his skin. No other Poryria had this warning except him. “Damn it. Not now.” The Vry were too close. He had to get Kira to safety fast before she witnessed anything he couldn’t explain.

  “Not now?” Mike tilted his head.

  “No. I mean yes—now.”

  Mike didn’t need another confirmation. He instantly removed Kira from Jeff’s arms. Trace jumped on Jeff’s back, knocking him flat on the ground, his face pressed hard against the grass. Trace itched to break his damn neck. His hands lingered squeezing tight, choking him. Anger consumed him as he thought about the things Jeff might have done to her.

  Jeff gagged. “Get off.” He coughed again, then cried out from the weight of Trace crushing him.

  Trace felt Kira watching him. He glanced at her, his eyes searching hers, then he saw her torn shirt and injuries. An ache clenched his heart. Seeing the marks on her; it took every ounce of will power not to shred Jeff into a million pieces. That he hadn’t done it by now surprised the hell out of him. He knew he would have lots of explaining to do if he did. He couldn’t tell her now, although a male human reaction wouldn’t make her suspicious. Trace lifted Jeff’s head and banged it once into the ground. “Is this how you like to treat women?” He slammed his head again. “Damn you!”

  Jeff groaned and then lay limp.

  Trace stood, then hurried toward Kira. He couldn’t look at that piece of trash any longer. The smell of blood taunted him, commanded him to fulfill his need to kill. Shaking his head, he ignored the urge.

  As he turned her around, he ripped the rope off her hands, she flinched, and her entire body trembled. “I’m sorry. I know it’s painful.” He didn’t want to cause her more agony.

  He gently veered her around to face him, and her eyes met his. His heart bled as he observed the bruises and cuts marring her pixie face. He laid a finger gently against a forming bruise. “I’ll kill him!”

  She shook her head slightly. “Don’t. Please.” Kira’s eyes widened when she glanced behind him.

  Trace sensed, and then heard Jeff moving. He turned and found a gun pointed directly at him.

  “Don’t move or I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Jeff glared.

  “Really?” Trace asked. “As long as I get to rip yours off after.”

  Jeff’s eyes were wild while he fidgeted with the gun in his hand. If Kira weren’t so close to him Trace would tell the bastard to go ahead and shoot. Instead, he needed to get the gun from Jeff.

  You want me to handle him? Mike stood ready to crush the man’s mind.

  No Mike. I’ve got it.

  Trace turned toward Kira to warn her to duck out of the way.

  “I told you both not to move,” Jeff yelled, glancing behind Trace.

  Trace shot a look back at Jeff and heard a soft whizzing sound pass his ear. At first, he thought Jeff had shot at him, but instead, an object struck Jeff directly between the eyes and he crumbled to the ground, knocked out cold.

  Trace cast a glance backward. Kira held her necklace in her hands and panted hard. Stunned, he closed his mouth. She’d just saved him. Not that he would have died, but he was proud of her courage. Words escaped him.

  “Damn. Where’d you learn how to sling like that?” Mike asked.

  “A friend taught me a long time ago.”

  Mike nodded. “Not bad for a human woman.”

  Trace shook his head. “You amaze me. Um. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  Mike laughed, then lifted Jeff like a sack of cement. “Right. Thanks for saving him.” He laughed again.

  Kira tilted her head as though confused by his “human” comment, shrugged and then released a loud sigh. “Anytime.” />
  He noticed the worried creases near her eyes, but knew she hadn’t caught on to what Mike had said. He stepped closer to her. “Hi.” It was all he could think to say.

  A faint curve formed at the corners of her mouth as her eyes filled. “Hi.”

  His heart ached for her. She was a tough woman, but she’d been through so much. How could he have allowed this to happen? Disgust filled him. He’d let her down. She tilted her head, then touched his cheek. His eyes closed and he pulled her into his arms. Warmth sank beneath his skin. How could this woman make him want to live again? “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  “I’m fine, and you were here for me.” She wiped her face dry. “I’ll be fine.”

  Trace couldn’t get over her strength, even some Poryria women would have fallen apart. Not Kira. She held herself together stronger than any mortal he’d known. Plus she’d knocked Jeff out cold. What more could he ask for?

  A chill settled in the air around them. His arms burned beyond belief and he knew he had to get her out of there quick. Jeff’s head would have to wait. The vibes rattling in his chest told him the Vry were close. “Follow me.”

  He ran with her to Mike’s car and helped her inside. “Stay here. Lock the doors and lie down on the seat. Don’t look out the windows until I come to get you. Please.”

  “Um. How did you find me?” She blinked.

  “Please. Just stay in the truck.”

  Her brows knit together, questioning.

  “There’s no time to explain.”

  She hesitated then took his hand. Warmth spread up his arm and down to his groin. He ignored his body’s ill-timed response, hoping she hadn’t noticed. “Please.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I trust you.”

  Trace swallowed the lump forming in his throat. She trusted him. The guilt for lying to her ate at him. But right now he didn’t have a choice. His hand grazed her bruised cheek, and then he closed the truck door. He wheeled around and raced toward Mike.

  “She okay?” Mike asked.

  “She better be,” he said as he smacked Jeff upside his head. Jeff moaned as he came to. “Lucky for her, I don’t shred you and feed you to your neighbor’s dog.”

  After they blindfolded Jeff, they dragged him into the house. Trace dialed the police and disconnected the line. Mike used the rope and tied Jeff’s hands, pushing him into a chair. The chair rocked back and Mike gripped it before it tipped completely over.

  “You should have let him fall.” Trace faced Jeff and couldn’t resist a knee to his balls. With his arms blazing, it was all he had time for before the Vry and the police arrived.

  “Mike. Vry.” They dashed outside, and found the same creature who took Mike’s knife. The vampire stood several feet away, facing Mike’s truck.

  The creature twisted around, curled his lip and exposed pointy teeth dripping with saliva. Its penetrating blood red eyes caused Trace’s burnt flesh to crawl due to his closeness. His skin would heal once the creature died; it wouldn’t take long, but it hurt like hell.

  He frowned. He couldn’t allow concern for Kira to show on his face, but inside he ached to run and protect her.

  The rogue smirked and turned toward the truck. He swirled then glared at Trace, a bad feeling pitted deep inside him. Had the Vry read his mind? As the putrid stench assaulted Trace’s nostrils, the rogue raised an eyebrow and disappeared. Trace’s arm began to heal, but the rogue hadn’t gone too far. The sensations still lingered beneath as did the odor in the air.

  Mike raised his hands. “What the hell? Was it just me, or is that bastard taunting us?”

  “You read my thoughts. It’s time we find out what this is all about.” The only one who would know—would be the council’s queen. The only Poryria who usually knew everything.

  Trace cast a glance toward the Yukon and spotted Kira peeking out the window. Oh hell. The way her gaze held his told him she’d seen the Vrykolakas. He closed his eyes. Not good.

  Chapter 8

  Kira struggled to breathe through her constricted lungs, and held her trembling hands in front of her face. What just happened? Something, whatever it was vanished. Grayish-purple. Her skin crawled thinking about it. She glanced at Trace. From the hard expression on his face, he’d seen it too. So had Mike. She watched the brothers’ body language–a silent conversation passed between them from the looks on their faces. Then Trace lifted his eyes to hers, his gaze concerned.

  He strode forward and opened the door after she released the lock. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “What was that thing?” She paused. “Did it…did it just disappear into thin air? Was that a trick?” Her fingers fidgeted. “You did see it right? Or am I seeing things?” Maybe the bump on her head had her hallucinating. Please be hallucinating.

  Trace frowned. “I saw it.”

  Kira wrapped her arms around her stomach and took a deep breath. Not what she’d hoped to hear. “Where’d it go? Do you think it’ll come back?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure.” He surveyed the ground, avoiding her eyes. “Kira, I need to tell you something.”

  Kira slumped in the seat. Her stomach clenched in knots when Trace wouldn’t look at her. She spotted Mike, who turned away. There were times when you knew you were about to hear something bad, and this was one of them. Maybe she didn’t want to know what the damn thing was. She didn’t want to see anything like that ever again. “I’d like to leave now.” Her body trembled. She no longer felt safe, even with him.

  “Please understand. We’re not one of them.” He peered at her beneath his dark lashes.

  Not one of them? She swallowed and her heart raced. Kira glanced from brother to brother and then rubbed her fingers in circles on her temples.

  Her chest ached. “One of them?” Why would he think she thought he was one of those things? “So, you know what that thing is?”

  Trace nodded and took a deep breath. “I’d hoped to spare you more trauma. I’m sorry.”

  Mike cleared his throat. “I’m goin’ check on the pig. Be back in a sec.”

  Trace leaned closer, lifted her trembling hands to his lips and held them there for a few seconds. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”

  When she wouldn’t look at him, he leaned forward, tilting his head down to catch her attention. “You sure you’re okay? Did Jeff…”

  She met his concerned gaze and knew exactly what he was asking. Had Jeff raped her? No. Thank God, he hadn’t. For some reason, he had decided against it. In Jeff’s sick mind, he thought she would come around to him on her own. He’d said the day he and his brother had spotted her at the restaurant he’d told Steve that he’d liked her. Then Steve went behind his back and dated her. Jeff had said she would come to his bed begging him for his touch. Her stomach knotted. The man was insane. That would never happen. “I guess…I’m okay.” She realized he’d easily changed the subject, which was okay for the moment.

  He closed his eyes for a second and then released a breath. “Good. That’s real good.” Trace paused then brushed a finger against her cheek. “I don’t think I could have handled it if he had. I wanted to kill him. I still want to.”

  She knew he meant it.

  Trace lowered his head. “I was so worried.” She watched as his chest lifted and fell. It seemed he was fighting for control over his actions or words.

  What wasn’t he telling her? With such intensity growing within him, she feared to ask what he meant when he said he wasn’t one of them. For now, she’d rather not know what “them” were. However, the thought of him worrying for her safety touched her deeply.

  “I’m okay, really. Just shaken up by what had happened, and then this. That thing…” She licked her dry lips. “You said you weren’t one of them.” The words came out accusing. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t need to know what he’d meant.

  “I’m not.” Trace leaned inches closer, his eyes penetrating.

  Pulse racing, nerves shattered, she inhaled his musky scent and
her head swam. She fidgeted with her hair. In an instant calmness washed over her as though she’d just taken a sedative. What had he said? Odd… she felt like she could say whatever was on her mind. It was now or never. She shook her head clearing the trance-like feeling that tugged at her.

  “Then what are you, other than my guardian angel? Don’t tell me you are an angel after all,” she said. He glanced off. She lifted her hand under his chin and angled his face toward hers. Whatever he was, he was her friend and that she’d always be grateful for. “Trace you are…”

  She jumped as he cut her off. He clutched her hands and said, “Don’t you dare tell me I’m a good friend!” He grasped the back of her neck and drew her toward him. His mouth captured hers in a possessive, yet gentle kiss. As his hands slid to the sides of her head, he embraced her tight. Her pulse thumped in her ears and her lungs struggled to catch a breath. He angled his head as though he couldn’t kiss her deep enough.

  She gasped when a small ache from her cut lip sizzled beneath the pleasure of his touch, his taste. Heat spread throughout her body and thawed parts she’d thought long ago frozen. The ice melted and moistened between her thighs. He sucked gently on her tongue. It was an odd, yet erotic feeling. His taste—so intoxicating—so addicting.

  He moved back only an inch from her lips. “I can’t control myself around you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  Her body burned as sirens blared in her mind. She blinked then leaned back. It took a second to find her voice. “Trace.”

  The sirens weren’t in her mind. They were real and the police were coming down the street.

  His thumb gently traced the outline of her wet lips. “Forgive me for being too forward.”

  Kira shook her head. “You weren’t.” She hoped he might do that again. Later when things were cleared up.

  “Mike and I must go. Someone will be here shortly to bring you to my place, unless you’d rather not.”

  “Um.” Why was he leaving her? Was he wanted by the police?

 

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