by Lisa Olsen
And then I heard it, the sound of pebbles hitting the kitchen window. “Anja… I can’t get in unless you invite me.”
“Bishop?” Gorram it, had I forgotten to invite him in, in all the craziness? “Bishop, get in here! You’re invited,” I called out, and he shouldered the door open seconds later.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over me quickly and efficiently, checking for wounds.
“I’m fine, I’m not the one out there getting shot at. You?”
He didn’t bother to answer, already moving through the house with purposeful strides. “Get down,” he barked over his shoulder as I moved to follow. “There are at least two shooters, one working with the darts and the other with regular bullets. Carter’s out there sniffing them out with Tucker’s help, and I want…”
A yelp of pain cut through the stillness, and Maggie leapt up from her hiding place. “That’s Tucker!” she cried, starting for the door.
“Both of you stay inside until I come back for you.” There was a burst of compulsion in his voice that Maggie responded to in an instant, but I wasn’t the least bit affected, of course.
“You’re not going back out there, are you?” I demanded, following him to the door.
“Carter needs my help.”
“Then let’s both go together and we’ll end this that much sooner.”
Bishop didn’t even consider my suggestion, going on as if I hadn’t spoken. “The house should protect you until I’m back as long as you stay away from the windows. Stay inside, I’ll go out the back and circle around.”
“But…”
He turned to face me, his face twisted with anguish. “Anja, promise me you’ll stay inside.”
I didn’t have to. He wasn’t strong enough to stop me, not anymore, but I saw the truth in his eyes. If I went out there, his concentration would be split between catching the shooter and keeping me safe, and that distraction could get him killed.
“Okay, just be careful.”
Bishop took precious seconds to lean in and press his lips to mine in a brief kiss. “I love you,” he said, and I didn’t much care for the look in his eyes, as if he’d already made peace with the idea that he might never see me again.
“Prove it,” I demanded, my chin coming up in a challenge. “Come back to me.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile. “Yes, ma’am.” And then he was gone, out the door faster than I could track.
“Do you think Tucker’s alright?” Maggie whimpered, and I huddled beside her on the ground, wrapping my arms around her.
“I’m sure he’s fine. Shifters are made of tough stuff.” I didn’t mention a word about how they’d brought Lee down. I didn’t think she’d seen the darts, and there was no point in worrying her any worse than she already was. “I’m betting that’s why there’s been no more gunfire. My money’s on Tucker, and he’s been busy tearing his throat out ever since.”
“I hope not,” she ventured with a sniff, and I smiled over her tenderheartedness. Once I’d been the same way, but the more people kept trying to kill me, the harder it was to argue that every life was sacred. “We’ll want to question him before we kill him,” she added matter-of-factly, and I laughed as I hugged her tight.
“Oh Maggie, what would I ever do without you?”
“I expect the same as you’ll do without Gunnar and Lee,” she replied with a forlorn note to her voice. “I don’t understand…”
“Neither do I, Maggie. Neither do I.”
A familiar whistle sounded – Carter’s all clear, a signal we’d used in the field before. I ventured a peep up to the window and spotted him frog marching a guy up the front walk. The shooter’s mouth was stuffed full of his own dirty socks, and his hands were bound with the shoelaces from his missing boots. The guy looked vaguely familiar, dressed in dark clothes, a black watchcap covering his auburn curls, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before.
Mindful of my promise to Bishop, I ducked just my head out the door. “Is it safe to come out? What about the other guy?”
“Gone,” Carter called out, changing his direction to bring his prisoner to the rear of the house for interrogation, I assumed, since he couldn’t be allowed inside.
“Where’s Tucker?” Maggie cried, and Carter jerked his head backwards.
“Bishop’s bringing him.”
“Bringing him? Oh Lord, he’s hurt, isn’t he?”
Carter didn’t reply, he kept dragging the guy to the back courtyard. Bishop appeared at the end of the walkway, carrying Tucker in his arms. The shifter had reverted back to human form, naked, and passed out.
I expected the injury to be pretty horrific, given the fact that he’d lost consciousness, but the wound was less than an inch long. “It doesn’t look too bad, why can’t he walk?” I wondered aloud.
“He has silver poisoning.”
Sure enough, I could see spidery, dark lines radiating out from the wound as he got closer. “Like Lee?” I gasped, wondering if it was too late for the young shifter too.
“No, it looks like they got him with a silver dagger and the damage is much more localized. He’ll need treatment though.”
“What do we do?”
“Beats the hell out of me, I’m no shifter,” Bishop replied irritably, leaning against the wall.
“Are you alright?” He didn’t look like he’d been shot anywhere, but he seemed a lot more worn out than he should be.
“I’m fine.”
Maggie gave a mournful sigh. “I’ll bet Lee knew of a way to counteract silver poisoning.”
Not that it’d done him any good. “I know, we’ll call Kane.”
“Yes, that’s brilliant!” Maggie’s face lit with hope. “He’ll know what to do.”
Luckily, I had Kane’s number on my desk, and the shifter answered right away. “Somebody better be dead if you’re calling me this early,” he growled, and I took a quick steadying breath before I snapped back at him. After all, he didn’t know.
“Somebody did die, and I need your help to keep Tucker from dying as well.”
His manner changed abruptly, alert and all business. “What happened?”
I gave him a brief rundown of Tucker’s injuries, leaving out the particulars of Lee’s death for now. He’d find out soon enough, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it yet.
“I’d better come right down. In the meantime, look around for some whiskey or vodka if you’ve got it.”
“Why, for sterilization purposes? We have a well stocked first aid kit.”
“No, he’s gonna want a drink before I get started. What I have to do is gonna hurt like fuck.”
“Kane’s coming over to help,” I reported as I rejoined them in the living room. “I forgot to ask if we should move him. Do you think we should keep him on the couch or move him up to his bedroom?” I turned to Bishop, only to find his face covered in a sheen of sweat. “Bishop?
He stumbled and fell to his knees, taking out an end table on his way down.
“Bishop, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he grunted, fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt, but his hands shook too much to manage it.
“That is not nothing. Sweet zombie Jesus… what was in that dart you got hit with?”
“I didn’t stop to ask anyone,” he laughed weakly. “It’s okay, I had my vest on.”
Brushing his hands out of the way, I tore open his shirt, never so glad to see the tactical vest in my life. “I don’t get it, if you had your vest on, then why are you so messed up?” I ripped at the Velcro and the t-shirt beneath it, sucking in a breath when I saw the wound below. The teensiest tip of the dart had punctured the vest, and the skin around the puncture was angry and red. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It’s not that bad, my body’s fighting it,” he groaned.
“I’d say it’s losing,” I muttered, pulling him up to lean against the bottom of a wingback chair. It wasn’t sil
ver nitrate, that wouldn’t have fazed his vampire physiology. It had to be ACBT, a tiny amount. “We have to do something.” It was spreading, that much was obvious, albeit slowly, without a heartbeat to pump it through his body.
In a flash of insight, I grabbed one of the knives strapped to his boot and slashed him across the chest, making a tiny crisscross, like you do with a snake bite. I had no idea if it would work or not, but I planted my mouth over the wound and sucked, spitting out the poison into an empty vase. Bishop frowned down at me at first when I cut him, but the second my mouth closed over the wound, his head tipped back with a deep sigh of pleasure. With each time I drew against his flesh, he held me closer, fingers sinking into my hair, and his pants bulged with unmistakable interest.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” I frowned, after I spit out another mouthful of poisoned blood.
“You started it,” he panted, and I couldn’t tell if his cheeks had more color because I was getting the poison out, or because I was making him happy in his pants.
“Do you think it’s helping?”
“Yes, definitely,” he nodded. “Don’t stop.”
I punched him lightly in the shoulder when I saw the hint of a smile curve his lips, but I went back to suck at the wound for a couple more tries, to be sure I had it all. “I think you should probably take some of my blood, to be on the safe side,” I suggested after rinsing my mouth out.
“If you want me to return the favor, all you have to do is ask. But now might not be the best time for that kind of a distraction.”
Did he think he was being funny? “Do you seriously think I’m in the mood to get grindy after what happened here tonight?” Lee’s body was still out on the porch and all that was left of Gunnar was ashes. That didn’t put me in the sexiest of moods. “I’m trying to keep you alive, dummy. You’ve seen what ACBT does to a body up close and personal. If there’s any trace of it left in your system…”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of the head. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. That was just distracting, what you did with your mouth, and… sorry.”
“Never mind, just take the blood.” I thrust my wrist at him, and he lifted it to his lips. There was no seduction, no preamble, his lips brushed over mine in the faintest of kisses before his fangs sank deep. And then I was the one breathing heavily, clutching the arm of the chair as he drank from me. Despite the pain and heartache of losing those I loved, I couldn’t deny my body’s reaction to what he was doing, even though it was to preserve his life.
Through the haze of pleasure, I heard Kane’s arrival, and Maggie letting him into the house. I heard his low whistle at inspecting Tucker’s injury, and the brief discussion on flushing it out with alcohol. I scented the blood in the air as Kane cut away the infected area where Tucker had been stabbed, and the foul smelling poultice he’d brought with him to draw the rest of the toxins from the wound.
“Thank you.” Bishop’s low words brought me back to reality as he kissed my wrist, licking away the last of the blood as the puncture marks healed themselves.
It took me a second to compose myself, but soon enough I could focus enough to speak. “How are you? Do you think it was enough, or do you need to see your doctor for a transfusion?”
“I think it’s fine. Only a tiny bit got into me before I pulled the dart out, I promise. How about you? I didn’t take too much, did I? Do you need blood?”
“No, I’m good.” I’d need to eat soon, but I could function. At least, my body could, my heart wouldn’t heal so easily. I sat there watching Kane wrap up Tucker’s thigh with less than gentle hands, quick and efficient. The shifter looked up, caught my eyes on him, and gave me a quick, reassuring wink.
“He’ll be alright,” Bishop was quick to comfort me as well. “I’ve seen shifters survive far worse damage before. You’d be surprised what they can heal.”
“But not Lee,” I murmured. It didn’t make sense. Lee didn’t have any enemies, not with the local pack, and there wasn’t even a whiff of Hunters in the area. And my prankster at the party aside, I had no really dangerous enemies that I knew of. “Why?” It was the only word I could get out as it hit me, and Bishop gathered me into his arms.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
Chapter Thirty
Carter had the shooter out in the back courtyard, hogtied and tipped over on his side. One half of his face was battered and bloodied, his eye completely swollen shut, the other stared up at us wildly, his mouth still full of a soggy sock. There were rivulets of blood streaming from various wounds where Carter had cut him in all the most sensitive spots on the body – not enough to maim, but definitely to weaken his body as well as his spirit.
“You know you don’t have to do that to get him to talk,” I pointed out. My compulsion would do the trick without any bloodshed, but I didn’t scold him very hard. I wanted the guy to suffer for what he’d done.
“I know, but I wanted to. This guy hunted us down like animals, I was just repaying the favor. He doesn’t seem to be cooperating though.”
“You could try removing the gag out of his mouth.”
“Spoilsport,” Carter muttered, pulling the sock free. The shooter spit out a mouthful of bloody phlegm, but made no sound as he glared up at us. I had the feeling that I’d seen him once before, but that was about it. I definitely didn’t remember any kind of argument or interaction to justify his actions against my family.
“Does anybody recognize him?” I asked. His clothes had that commando look that the Order members were so fond of, but Bishop shook his head along with Carter. I knelt in front of him, surprised to find a human, not a vampire, as I’d believed. I put my face right up to his, so that I had his undivided attention as I unleashed my compulsion on him. “I’m not going to mess around. I want to know why you did this.”
“I ’ave me orders.” His accent was British and roughened by the streets. Not too unlike Rob’s, but lacking his clarity of speech.
“Orders from who?”
His brows drew together into a single dark line. “I… I ’ave me orders.”
“Tell me who gave you those orders,” I insisted, and his mouth worked without any sound before he shook his head.
“I ’ave me orders.”
Carter let out a disgusted breath. “Shit… he’s been compelled.”
“Son of a biscuit,” I frowned. “Okay then, what are your orders? To kill me?”
“No. Just everyone you loves.”
“Everyone I…” Words deserted me as the terror of that statement sank in. Was that what Hanna’s car accident was about? Taking away someone I loved? “Is that why you killed Lee first, before we got home?”
“That’s the cowboy fella, yeah? I didn’t kill ’im, I killed the big bodyguard.”
“And you shot me,” Bishop grumbled, but the guy shook his head.
“No, me orders was to take out the bodyguard, the secretary chippie, and the pet ’unter.”
“You’d better not mean me,” Carter growled, and I laid a hand on his shoulder.
“And my sister?”
“Don’t know nuffin’ about your sister. That was the other bloke.”
“Who is the other guy?”
“I… dunno. I ’ad me orders, and ’e ’ad ’is, just the same.”
“What happened to him? Is he still out there?”
“I reckon ’e ran after ’e stuck your wolf.”
“Where did you get these weapons?” Bishop asked, kicking at the captured rifle with his toe. “They look Order issued.”
“Answer him,” I nudged when he remained silent.
“Dunno.” He gave what might’ve been a shrug, if he hadn’t been so tightly tied up.
I decided to try another tack. “Do you know the person who put you up to this and you can’t physically say it, or do you not remember who they are at all?”
“I… don’t remember. I got the orders and come to do the jo
b.”
“What are you supposed to do after the job is done?” Carter asked.
“I’m to go ’ome again, but only after the word is given.”
“Then he or she will be contacting you again? How? Do you have a cell phone?”
“I dunno. Could be the phone, I couldn’t say.”
“I think it’s safe to say this guy is less than useless,” I sighed, feeling very tired all of a sudden. “Go ahead and stick the sock back into his mouth.”
“Wait,” Bishop stopped Carter. “Do you know what’s supposed to happen to Anja after everyone she loves dies? Was the other guy supposed to kill her too?”
“Dunno. Just know she wasn’t to be ’armed in this strike.”
“Oh, what about the tainted blood prank at the New Year’s party?” I remembered suddenly. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“Blood? Dunno nuffin’ about it.” He shook his head.
“Which means exactly nothing,” I frowned, motioning for Carter to gag him again. “So all we know is, someone hired this guy and one other to attack my loved ones, but not me.”
“Not yet. The next step could be an attempt on your life,” Bishop pointed out. “Let’s focus on what we know for now. This guy’s British, well equipped with Order caliber weapons, with obvious training, probably military. We all know you’ve got an enemy in Simon Corley since you got him kicked out of Vetis. Maybe he decided to pick his moment and move on you now? Just because he didn’t come openly with Jennike doesn’t mean Corley’s not here. He could be holed up in the house across the street right now for all we know.”
Carter had a different take on it. “Yeah, but last we heard they wanted Anja alive for their plot to unite the Houses.”
“Which I not only turned down, I told Jennike not to listen to Corley’s advice any more. Maybe this is his retaliation for that?”