Dangerous Retaliation (The Harcourte Vampyre Society Book 4)

by Kelley, Morgan

  Jolie patted Camille’s knee, knowing the vampyre was scared for the man she was attracted to. “It’ll be fine. Flynn won’t hurt Tommy.”

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he handed it to Mathew. It was one of his favorite mementos from Jolie in Paris. Why ruin it to prove a point?

  Tommy looked panicked at what was unfolding in front of him. Surely, his friend wasn’t going to do something so asinine. “Wait, don’t! Are you crazy?”

  It was too late.

  “Shoot me.”

  Jacques took his shots.

  The popping sound made everyone in the room jump as it echoed against the walls and reverberated around them.

  Tommy gasped as his friend stumbled, grabbing his torso. Horror filled him as there stood his friend with four bullet holes in his stomach and chest. The rivulets of blood started to run down his flesh.

  “Jesus!” Tommy took a step toward Flynn but stopped as he held up his hand. “We need an ambulance. You’ve been shot!”

  “Wait for it,” Flynn said, through the pain.

  Everyone watched as the bullet holes began moving. The non-silver rounds were being pushed from deep within his body, preparing to evacuate from his flesh.

  They clinked to the ground one by one.

  No one spoke, including Tommy. The look on his face said it all. He was shocked, horrified, and scared.

  Flynn was a monster.

  He could see it in his friend’s eyes.

  “When you can do that, Tommy, come talk to me, and we’ll discuss it. Until then, you’re not going. The human friend you knew is dead. He’s no longer alive. I gave up my humanity months ago.”

  Tommy didn’t move. He was shocked.

  Flynn took his shirt from Mathew and shrugged back into it, wiping the streak of blood on his chest with his fingers. When he licked some of the red from his thumb, his eyes met Tommy’s.

  “I’m not like you. Don’t make that mistake when you remember the man I used to be. Jacques is a killer, but now, so am I. The old Flynn is dead, Tommy. I’m trying to spare you from getting trapped in the world between, like I am.”

  There it was.

  Here was the truth.

  Flynn wasn’t human, and he wasn’t undead.

  He was a freak.

  “I need to be alone,” he said, lumbering from the room. For now, he had to find a place to think.

  The detective stared as he left. “My God,” he whispered, staring down at the bullets on the pricy Oriental rug. “I didn't think he was…”

  “Was what?” Jolie asked.

  “Not human.”

  Jolie moved from her place on the couch to go after her mate. She could feel his pain, and it was eating away at her and Jacques.

  “Go, my love. I’ll stay here.”

  She headed toward the door, but paused there. “While we’re not quite sure how to classify our Flynn, one thing remains the same. He still hurts from emotional scars, just like physical ones.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “We know,” Jolie stated. “You need to remember what he showed you. We don’t die easily, but you do. It’s time to listen to your friend.”

  With that, she was gone.

  Jolie needed to save Flynn.

  And his heart.

  It wasn’t often that Flynn ventured out to take a walk. Sure, they headed to Jolie’s garden, but a walk--that was a rarity. The last time he’d been out in the thick trees surrounding their plantation home, it was the day they arrived.

  He recalled it fondly.

  They were beginning a new adventure, and now…

  He was confused.

  What he’d just done went against everything inside him. Flynn didn’t protect and serve. He’d just scared the shit out of his friend.

  He’d lost so much of his humanity that terrorizing the man inside the house didn't seem to matter--until that moment.

  Now he had regret.

  And anger.

  Exactly what had him so damn pissed off was eluding him. Granted, he could push all this off on his old partner, who riled him up about joining them at the biker bar, but he knew it was so much more.

  It was a combination of everything as of late.

  Zola.

  Tommy.

  Mathew.

  The missing baby.

  It was all beginning to weigh on his shoulders.

  Surely a walk through the night air would lift his spirits? Right?

  Wrong.

  Somewhere between blowing off steam and getting a break from it all, he realized just how angry he was. It astounded even him at what was brewing in his gut. Where he should be finding peace, he was finding more anger.

  Flynn picked up a stone and whipped it as far as he could, only to have it crash in the distance, out of sight.

  It only added fuel to the fire.

  Flynn needed to beat the hell out of something, and the only handy target was the large tree in front of him.

  The self-loathing, hate, and anger erupted from him, as he used his fists to repeatedly pummel the tree. With each strike, his split flesh healed almost immediately.

  It didn't stop him.

  Again and again, he kept slamming his fist against the bark, until he finally felt it.

  It hurt.

  That had to be good, right?

  The tiny glimmer of pain reminded him that he was still human and alive. He dropped to his knees in submission, resting his forehead against the bloodied bark as the anger swallowed him whole.

  He’d never realized it before, but he’d never mourned what he’d lost.

  Finally, he was.

  Flynn didn't know whether to be glad or even angrier at the piss poor timing.

  On second thought, yes, he did.

  As she sought him out in the woods, Jolie knew she was getting closer. When she arrived near his location, she found him on his knees and not moving.

  Her heart ached.

  Blood splattered his shirt, the tree, and his face. Everything in her was stirred up, as all she wanted to do was heal him.

  Deep down, she knew the truth.

  She was partially to blame, and this was her greatest fear.

  They stole his humanity, pulling him into their world. This is why they never wanted to bond him to them. How were they to know that her connection to death would change him into … them? The day they gave him her blood, they damned him to a life without humanity. With each day and taste from her, he was further dragged into the darkness. Her brave cop was losing the battle, and she was helpless to stop it.

  For weeks, she’d tried to talk herself out of the guilt. Jolie loved him so much, so it was easy to push the truth aside.

  He wasn’t a killer because of him.

  He was a killer because of her.

  It was time for her to help him, any way she could.

  “Flynn?” she whispered, stopping behind him far enough away that she remained out of his reach. “My love?” she called again, unsure if he heard her the first time.

  He didn't look at her.

  Jolie stared down at the blanket in her arms. She’d brought it along in case he felt a chill while in the swamp. Then again, maybe she brought it as some makeshift shield, offering her protection from his anger.

  Finally, he acknowledged her presence.

  “Yes, Jolie?” he answered out of respect. She was the mother of his child. Where he wanted to rage and storm around, pulling her into his misery, he refused.

  What kind of father would he be if he was cruel to the woman giving his child life?

  Flynn already felt like an asshole for scaring the shit out of his friend. Did he do it to save him? Scare him? Or just prove that he was stronger and dead inside? He wasn’t going to do the same to Jolie.

  “I’m worried about you.” She moved closer just out of reach of his body.

  Flynn kept his eyes closed, swallowing the pain. “Don’t be. I’m perfectly fine.” He had to grind his teeth to just get out the lie. It was so
very far from the truth.

  Jolie lifted a brow before stepping closer. Now she was so close, she could touch him. “Yes, I can see that.”

  He didn't speak.

  “It’s pretty out here in the night.” The area around them was alive with night sounds--crickets, frogs singing their song, and the flickering of lightening bugs.

  “You should go inside,” he whispered. What he wanted to tell her was to run far from him. He deserved to be alone.

  “Will you let me keep you company?” she asked hopefully. “We can remain out here and just talk.” Jolie laid the blanket on the ground behind him. “Join me?”

  Finally, he gave up.

  Giving in, he crossed to her sitting on the blanket. The fact that he could find her, as he navigated through the pitch blackness, irritated him even more.

  When he sat, neither touched.

  “Is Tommy okay?” he finally asked, worried about the man.

  “He was a little startled, but he’s fine now. We all got the point. You heal just as fast as Jacques.”

  Flynn laughed, and it wasn’t a good one.

  “If it matters, my love, I know how you feel.”

  He didn’t buy that for a second. “I somehow doubt that, Jolie.”

  “Remember the night outside the vampyre club when you questioned my judgment, and I showed you my power?” Jolie thought back to when she stopped his breathing, erroneously deciding to close off his throat and scare him into understanding. That brash decision nearly cost her everything.

  “Yes, I remember it.”

  “I’ve regretted it since then because it scared, hurt, and placed a scar on your heart that I’ve never forgotten.”

  He looked over at her, surprised by Jolie’s words. “It wasn’t the same thing.”

  “You’re right. It was far worse. You scared Tommy, but you didn’t harm him. When I did that, I hurt and nearly lost you because of the fear. You ran from me after that, and I’ve regretted that day since.”

  “I’m not the man I was then, and in fact, I’m not sure if I’m a man at all,” he whispered in so much pain. “I don’t know what I am. I’m caught between two places and in limbo. I want to be more like you and Jacques, but everything in me is fighting it. I feel like I’m being torn in half.”

  It was then she touched him, pulling Flynn against her body. “I love the man you are. Why do you have to be one or the other? Why can’t you just be you? What you are is amazing, special, and unique.”

  “I feel so weighed down by everything.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?” He pulled away to face her. “What am I?”

  Jolie took his face in the palms of her hands and left a trail of kisses across his blood splattered skin. Gently, she licked them away, tasting the man she was hopelessly in love with. “You’re Flynn Xavier Brogan. You're a cop, a good man, and half of my heart,” she offered, answering his question. “And you’re the father of one of our children.”

  “Why do I feel this way?” He needed to know what was happening in his mind to make him doubt everything. “I don’t want to be angry, and that’s what I’m feeling right now.”

  Jolie knew why he was feeling like this. It was the darkness that owned them all. It was death, the loss of a whole soul, and everything they’d lived through the last few months. All she wanted was to give him something to hold him to her and heal his heart.

  “Do you have a knife?” she inquired.

  “Yeah,” he pulled it from his boot. Anymore he’d learned to carry silver knives and bullets. It was just one more thing a normal man never had to stress. “What are you going to do?”

  Jolie moved toward the tree, grinning over her shoulder. “This is something that I’ve never done in my entire eight centuries of living.” She went to work. “I want to give you a gift, and you need to know that it’s ours and ours alone.”

  He watched her out of curiosity. He didn’t understand until he saw it.

  Instantaneously, some of the pain drifted away.

  On the tree, deep in the bark where his blood was splattered, she’d carved a heart and inside it gouged their initials.

  J.H + F.B

  Gently, he ran his fingers over it and couldn’t help but smile. “You gave me a heart.”

  She grinned. “Yes, and you’ll be the only one I ever give it to. I’ve never done it before with anyone, including Jacques. I know it may seem silly, outdated, old fashioned, and human…”

  He simply stared at it.

  Jolie stuck the blade in the tree and went to him. “I can’t make you human again. I can’t erase our past, but I can give you this part of me. No one else will ever have my initials in a heart on a tree. Just you and me, Flynn. Let me come to you and be human with you for a while. If you’re stuck in the middle, let me come to you.”

  “Jolie,” he was ridiculously touched. This was so very sweet and innocent. It was something he’d lost along the journey.

  “I've lived inside you, Flynn. I’ve seen it there before, just with different initials.”

  Emotions overwhelmed him.

  “Who did they belong to?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t prying.

  “My mom and dad. It was their initials that you saw. In our front yard, my dad did the same thing for my mom right before she died of cancer. He carried her out there, carved them, and then held her in his arms. It was his last gift to her.”

  Jolie wrapped her arms around his body and kissed away the tear that escaped down his cheek.

  “Then let’s make this official. This is ours and no one else’s. In one hundred years, our child will see this tree and smile. We’ll still have it for so many years to come. When the tree dies, we’ll pick another tree. I’ll carve up a forest of trees for you to show you how much I love you.”

  He dropped his chin to the top of her head.

  “Meet me in the middle. Not all vampyre and all human, but here at our tree.”

  It was ordinary, simple, and perfect.

  She’d given him exactly what he needed.

  He wrapped his arms around her and did something he hadn’t done since the day he found he was alone in the world. Flynn Xavier Brogan trusted another person so much, that he let her hold him as he mourned.

  Jolie led him back to the blanket, allowing him to curl protectively in her arms. She held on to him through the storm, like he did for her so many times before.

  She let him purge the pain, while slipping into their minds to block them both from their other mate. This was for him alone, and she’d protect the man she loved from everything in the world, if need be.

  Holding him tight, Jolie gave him a way back to the light, a way back to her, and a lit path out of the sadness and to her heart.

  They’d survive this.

  They were made for each other.

  ∞ Chapter Twenty-Five ∞

  Early Monday Morning

  Jolie and her mates relaxed in their quarters. Flynn sat at the table cleaning all three of his guns, while Jacques was in his favorite chair reading a book. From her position on the bed, Jolie was able to watch them both.

  After sharing the evening outside, Jolie was still worried about Flynn. Yes, he’d seemed to let it go, but still…she hated to see him suffering.

  As they curled together on the blanket among the chirping nature, they were able to enjoy that moment of silence.

  Oh, and the sex. Flynn had needed her touch, but he also longed for that little taste of humanity. When they came together, under the stars, she let him lead the way.

  It was safe.

  It was sweet.

  It was very…human.

  While she had wanted to share her blood with him, Flynn didn't try to take it. In that moment, she knew he wanted to make love.

  So, being the doting mate that she was, Jolie held on and let him take her for one heck of a ride.

  After making love, his heart seemed to be healed a little more. Jolie couldn’t help but lay there and smile at
the memory of their moments together. For once in her life, humanity ruled and being a vampyre fell away.

  Honestly, she didn't mind.

  “Why are you smiling, my love?” inquired Jacques curiously. Both mates left earlier, and when they returned everything seemed better all around. Only, he felt like he was missing something monumental.

  Flynn glanced up expectantly, wondering if she was going to tell Jacques what happened in the trees on their property.

  “I’m thinking about the two most amazing men in the entire world.” Her eyes met Flynn’s, and they shared that one look. His earlier admissions were safely hidden deep within her for all eternity. No one would know what was said but the two of them.

  He winked at her, reassured that his worries were protected. Flynn indeed felt better. Jolie’s gift had helped him feel alive once more. When they came together under the stars, she gave him what he needed.

  Control.

  As they lay spent in the afterglow, she’d given him more. That was forever their spot, and if he went there, she’d play the role of human for him.

  If Flynn needed to slip back into his old life, she’d act as the bridge to making it happen.

  He couldn’t love her more than he already did.

  It was sweet that she’d meet him there without a question.

  ‘I love you too,’ she whispered through his mind.

  Someone approached the door and both men paused.

  “Come in, Mathew,” said Jacques, after he peeked his head around the door.

  “Am I bothering you?”

  Jolie sat up on the bed. “No, why? Is something wrong?” she asked, looking at the package he carried in his hands.

  “Nothing at all, Jolie,” he stated, trying out her name in front of the masters. When neither batted an eyelash, he relaxed. “I finished the painting that Jacques wanted commissioned for your room. I figured I’d drop it off here.”

  Jacques took the offered package that Mathew held in his hand. “I can’t wait to see it. I imagine it’s just as spectacular as the first one you showed us.”