Heart of Fire (Alice Worth Book 2)

by Lisa Edmonds

  “I don’t know.” He slid his hand over so it was touching mine. “Or maybe I do.”

  We stood silently, staring into space, not looking at each other.

  “You looked beautiful in that dress,” he said finally. “I shouldn’t even have noticed, probably, given the circumstances, but I did.” He closed his fingers around mine. “I wonder what it says about me that I think you look even more beautiful wearing burglar clothes.”

  “These are not burglar clothes,” I informed him. “This is what I wear to go sleuthing.”

  “Black hoodie, black jeans, black boots.” He reached into my pocket and pulled something out, holding it up. “And black gloves.”

  I took my glove back. “It’s cold outside.”

  “It’s not that cold.” He laced his fingers through mine and turned to face me. When he spoke, his voice was strangely gentle. “Talk to me, Alice.”

  I tried to pull my hand away, but he held tight. “You just don’t give up,” I said with a sigh.

  He smiled—not the deliberately charming smile he’d unleashed on me before, or its more shark-like version, but an affectionate, easy grin. “We’ve been over this. It’s one of my finer qualities, remember?”

  I huffed. “Maybe your boss at SPEMA thinks it’s a positive character trait, but it’s a little less endearing to have you popping up all over the place, trying to catch me doing something that might get me in trouble.”

  Lake tilted his head. “What have you done that might get you in trouble?”

  Exasperated, I pulled free and yanked on the handcuff. “I’m going to do something that’ll get me in a lot of trouble if you don’t take off these damn cuffs.”

  “I’ll take them off right now if you tell me where you were headed.”

  “I told you—”

  “—A lie,” he interrupted. “A convincing one, I’ll give you that, but still a lie. In fact, I’d guess at least eighty percent of everything you’ve ever told me since the moment we met has been a lie.”

  “Then why the hell do you keep asking me questions?”

  “Because I keep hoping one day you’ll decide to tell me the truth.” He took my hand again. “Forget the construction site murders. Forget whatever the hell happened to you last night outside the Midnite Café, or how you sobered up so fast when you clearly haven’t brewed any coffee in here. Tell me who you think killed the man who was like a second father to you. Let me help you get justice for Mark Dunlap without getting yourself killed in the process.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so sure I’d get myself killed.”

  “If your target is a high-level blood mage or a harnad full of them, you’re likely to end up dead. I don’t want to find your body in an alley or have you disappear too.”

  “Mark was my mentor,” I ground out. “My friend. And, yes, a second father or something close to that. I told him I would have his back, and now he’s dead.”

  “Is that what this is? You think he died on your watch, so you’re going out in the middle of the night on a suicide mission to try to kill the blood mage who murdered him?”

  I said nothing.

  “Silence instead of a lie; that’s progress, at least.” His tone was dry.

  “Just go, Lake,” I said dully. “Take off the damn cuffs and go home and leave me alone.”

  “Let’s go together.”

  I blinked up at him. “Go where?”

  “To find the blood mage.” His jaw was set. “That’s where you were headed, right? Let’s go. I’m your backup.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Why not? You don’t think I’m good enough to back you up?”

  “I’m sure you would be if we were both federal agents executing a legal warrant and arresting a person suspected of murder, but that’s not what would be happening. This isn’t a job for SPEMA.”

  “It’s a job for a lone vigilante who’s so angry she’s not thinking straight?” I opened my mouth to retort, but he continued. “And I never said I was going with you as a SPEMA agent.”

  “There’s no other way for you to do anything.”

  Lake pulled out his credentials and tossed them on the counter. “What if I went with you as Trent? Not Lake, not a SPEMA agent. Just Trent.”

  I snorted. “This again? Even if you left behind your I.D. and your government-issued guns, you’re still a fed. You think like a fed, you act like a fed, and when the chips are down, you’ll react like a fed.”

  His expression hardened. “If that was true, I would have arrested you for killing Scott Grierson. I certainly would have turned in the earring I found at the construction site and had you hauled in for questioning. I’d have taken you downtown the night I ran into you on the Stroll the first time, when you were obviously withholding crucial information about the case. I would have taken you into protective custody when you showed up bloody and beaten the other night, or tonight for obstruction, since you clearly know who is responsible for Mark Dunlap’s murder, or at least have a strong enough suspicion that you’re ready to act on it. I did none of those things, so why do you keep trying to convince yourself that I’m nothing more than a goddamn fed?”

  I stared up at him, stunned into silence.

  Lake’s eyes blazed. “If you ask me to, I will go with you to find the blood mage who killed your friend. I am not my badge, Alice.” He pulled me against his body and lowered his mouth to mine.

  The force of his kiss surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. If I’d come to know anything about Lake over the past month or so, it was that he never did anything in half measures. My fingers tightened in his shirt, feeling the hardness of his chest, as his hand cupped the back of my head. He tasted perfect, like coffee and a hint of Scotch.

  He pulled back to stare into my eyes. “Who am I?”

  “Trent,” I said softly.

  He sat me on the counter so our heights were more evenly matched and nudged my knees apart. He moved between my thighs and pulled me close as his mouth returned to mine. Desire, hot and hungry, made me slip my free hand under his coat so I could slide my fingers into his waistband and tug him to me. He took my other hand in his and laced our fingers together.

  I was suddenly very aware of the cuff on my right wrist and it occurred to me handcuffs could be fun. I didn’t know if it was me or if my reaction was enhanced by Niara’s blood, but I didn’t particularly care. He was dangerous—a federal agent with the power to turn my life upside down—but in the wake of Mark’s death, the danger was arousing. It made me feel alive instead of numb.

  He slid a hand under my sweatshirt to curve around my waist, his fingers warm. His touch was electric and I gasped a little against his mouth at the sensation.

  Lake drew back. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He brushed the hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “So, where are we going?”

  I was confused before I remembered what we’d been discussing. “You can’t come with me.”

  Frustrated, he ran his free hand through his hair. “Why the hell not?”

  I opened my mouth, a half-dozen easy lies on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I surprised myself. “Because he’ll kill you.”

  He stared at me. “I think that was the truth. What will happen to you if you go by yourself?”

  “He’ll almost certainly kill me.”

  “If I take these cuffs off and leave you by yourself, will you still go?”

  “Probably.”

  He kissed me, his hands on either side of my face. When he drew back, his expression was grim. “Then the cuffs stay on, and I’m not leaving.”

  “Take off the cuffs,” I told him. “Stay, and I’ll stay too.”

  He eyed me.

  “Scout’s honor.” I touched his face. “Stay, so I’m not alone.”

  Lake reached into his pocket, withdrew his keys, and unlocked the cuffs. I flexed my wrist and made a face at the reddened lines where the metal had dug into my skin.

  He put the key
s and cuffs on the counter next to his credentials. “The fallout from this is going to be pretty bad. We should both try to get some sleep if we can. I know the living room is empty, but tell me you have a bed.”

  “I do. I also have a guest room, which also has a bed.”

  He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

  I put my hands on my hips. “What, you thought you were going to share mine?”

  Surprisingly, it didn’t look like that was what he’d been thinking. “How do I know you won’t disappear the minute my back is turned?” He glanced at the cuffs on the counter. I had a feeling he wasn’t thinking about fun ways to use them.

  I crossed my arms. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. I give you my word I won’t try to sneak out.”

  Lake regarded me. “I’ll take you at your word,” he said finally. “I’m not sure what to do with all this honesty.”

  “Don’t get used to it. I’m sure it’s only a temporary condition and it will wear off soon.” I slid down off the counter. “If you’ve got a change of clothes in your truck, you might as well go get it so I can raise the house wards. Oh, and Lake?”

  “Yes?”

  I pointed. “Don’t touch the basement door.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Thanks for the warning.”

  I headed for the stairs. “Get your stuff. Guest room is upstairs, second door on the right. Bathroom’s across the hall. Make yourself at home.”

  Lake went out to his truck for his bag. When he was back inside, I raised the wards and shut my bedroom door. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and changed into pajamas before climbing into bed.

  His footsteps went back and forth between the guest room and the other bathroom. Once, he paused in the hallway and I half-expected him to come to my door, but he went back to his room. I couldn’t decide whether I was disappointed or relieved.

  I had no business kissing a SPEMA agent, much less inviting one to my bed, but I couldn’t deny that Lake was no longer just a fed to me. The realization that I had come to see him as a man scared me. I was beginning to think that at some point in the past month, his motivation for turning up wherever I was had changed, long before the scene in the walk-in cooler. I’d been too preoccupied with other things to notice.

  He could have run me in a half-dozen times, but he hadn’t. That in itself spoke volumes about who he was beyond the badge. Even so, I was playing with fire and the stakes got higher every minute he was in my life. He had an uncanny ability to sense when I was lying, and I had much more to hide than my involvement in the construction site murders. If Lake ever got the inkling I wasn’t the same Alice Worth who’d grown up in Chicago and lost her parents in a boating accident, everything might come crashing down around my ears.

  And then there was Sean, who said he wanted to make me happy, and what was I supposed to think about that?

  I groaned softly and rolled over, curling into a ball under the covers.

  Despite the ache in my heart and my tangled emotions, my recent lack of sleep and the events of the day left me exhausted. I was just dozing off when my door opened and soft footsteps crossed the room to my bed.

  Warm lips brushed mine. “Good night, Alice.”

  “Good night, Lake,” I murmured just before sleep took me.

  A persistent buzzing dragged me from a sound sleep just after dawn. Bleary-eyed and confused, I fumbled to find my phone on the nightstand. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on the caller ID. The number was local, so I swiped the green button and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?” My voice was thick with sleep.

  A long pause, then: “You should at least be dead too.”

  It took my groggy brain several seconds to recognize the voice. My stomach knotted. “Sharon?”

  “You told me you would have his back.” Her voice was shaking, but not with grief. With rage. “You gave me your word.”

  My throat closed. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I wanted him to stop working for the fangheads, but he wouldn’t listen.” Sharon’s voice was rising. “For years, I’ve been telling him they’re dangerous. They’re killers. They have no loyalty. Humans are nothing but food to them. He wouldn’t listen to me.” It was nearly a scream.

  “Vamps didn’t kill him. It was the harnad.”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me,” she snarled. “The detective said he was bitten and they drained him. He told me you tried to claim it wasn’t a fanghead. Mark’s dead and you’re trying to protect them. You’re disgusting.”

  “I’m not trying to protect them. If I thought it was a vampire who killed him, I’d be the first to grab a stake and go hunting. I saw the so-called ‘bite’ and it looked more like the holes were made by needles than fangs. Let me explain—”

  She cut me off. “Save it. Your employment is terminated, effective immediately. All agreements you have with MDI are void. Do not attempt to come on our property or contact any of our employees.”

  I sat up in bed. “What about the investigation into the kidnapped women?”

  My bedroom door swung open. Lake stood in the doorway in his undershirt and bare feet, buttoning his pants.

  “As far as we are concerned, there is no investigation anymore. I informed the Court an hour ago that MDI is no longer affiliated with them in any way.” While I was still reeling from that news, Sharon added, “Tell the fangheads justice is coming for them. After today, they won’t be able to hide behind their lies anymore.”

  I went cold. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “There’s a protest this afternoon, led by Don Hall of the Daylighters. He’s invited me to speak about what happened to Mark.”

  “Sharon, please,” I said desperately. “Mark was not killed by vamps. If you tell people he was, every supe-hating extremist is going to try to kill any vamp they can find and the vamps will have no choice but to protect themselves. It’ll be a bloodbath.”

  “There’s a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them,” she said flatly. “I hope they all burn in hell, every last one of them.” Beep. I looked at the screen. Call Ended.

  Slowly, I lowered the phone. Lake moved from the doorway to the side of my bed, his face grave.

  “How much did you hear?” I asked.

  “Enough.” He sat down next to me.

  My chest felt tight. “They’ll burn the city down.”

  “I have to go to work.” He took my hand. “Promise me you won’t go looking for that blood mage until I can go with you.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t promise you that.”

  His gaze turned stony. “What are you going to do?”

  “Whatever I have to do to find out who killed Mark before what happened in Cincinnati happens here.”

  His hand tightened on mine. “I was in Cincinnati three years ago—before, during, and after.” I saw it in his eyes: the haunted look of someone who had witnessed the carnage firsthand. Like me, Lake had seen the worst humans could do to each other and to those who were different from them. Maybe we had more in common than I’d originally believed. The thought was unsettling.

  He touched my face. I closed my eyes and leaned against his hand. When I opened them again, his gaze was piercing. “You be careful,” he said.

  “Of course.” I gave him a fleeting smile. “When am I ever not careful?”

  He snorted and rose. “Do you need to do something to let me get out through the house wards?”

  I shook my head. “Not to leave.”

  He leaned down to kiss my cheek, then headed for the door.

  “Lake?”

  He turned around and waited.

  I thought about a couple of things I wanted to say, but settled for, “Watch yourself.”

  He smiled. “Always.” He disappeared down the hall. About ten minutes later, heavy footsteps went downstairs and the wards tingled as he left.

  16

  I dragged myself downstairs to make coffee and get my laptop. On the way back, I checked th
e guest room and saw Lake had made the bed before he’d left. The only hint he’d been there was a wet washcloth draped neatly on the sink, a damp hand towel, and the faint scent of his aftershave. I went back to my room and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and sipping my coffee as I went online.

  As I’d expected, Mark’s murder was big news. I was in no way prepared for the punch in the gut of seeing his picture under the headline Vampire Court Investigator Found Murdered, Drained on CNN’s homepage. Worse, several stories cited “sources within the police department” as saying a vampire had killed him. While officially the department stated the investigation was ongoing and no official cause of death was yet known, both local and national news outlets, fully aware of what would get readers to click on the story, emphasized the possibility a vampire was responsible.

  The anti-vamp rally was scheduled for one o’clock outside city hall. The Daylighters’ website was already promoting Sharon’s participation and their main page was a graphic and highly speculative account of Mark’s death, blaming a vampire for draining him dry.

  The story was accompanied by a gory stock photograph of a savage vampire bite that bore no resemblance whatsoever to the wound Mark had suffered. People commenting on the article assumed it was an actual photo of Mark’s throat—as the Daylighters had no doubt intended—and the comments were increasingly violent and frightening. The group’s leaders were whipping their followers into a frenzy ahead of today’s rally.

  Mark’s death was like an anvil crushing my chest, but my grief and anger had evolved past the blind rage that had made me want to smash John West’s wards and confront him. With the benefit of a few hours’ sleep, I was seeing more clearly and what I saw was the need to take a more measured approach.

  At the same time, there was no time to lose; the clock was ticking, counting down the minutes until the rally. The riots that had torn Cincinnati apart, leaving dozens of vampires, shifters, and humans dead, hundreds injured, and whole sections of the city burned to the ground, began with an anti-supe rally much like the one scheduled to begin in just a few hours.