Dangerous Retaliation (The Harcourte Vampyre Society Book 4)

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Sure, I’m his bitch. What is your name?”

  “Leo.”

  Jolie opened her arms. “Come to me, Leo. I’m hungry and need to drain you of your blood.”

  He shrugged again. “Okay.”

  Flynn shook his head. It always amused him how easy the vamps had it. Every human was like fast food--easily accessible.

  Jolie pulled him toward her body before roughly biting in to his throat. As she gulped, her energy returned.

  When she was done, she dropped him.

  He fell to her feet as the tendrils began to feed.

  “Wow, someone’s angry tonight,” Flynn stated. Generally, Jolie was gentle with a donor.

  “He tastes like strippers and booze,” she said, wiping her hand across her mouth.

  Flynn laughed. “Is that a flavor? Can I try?”

  Jolie pointed at him. “Tread lightly, or the only action you’ll be able to get will be a drunken stripper.”

  He raised his hands in surrender.

  It took everything for Jacques not to laugh. His mates entertained him.

  “He’s upstairs,” she stated.

  Jacques agreed. “I can sense him. He’s not alone. It looks like Flynn might get his stripper after all.”

  “Hey now!” he whispered, as they climbed the rickety stairs to the second floor.

  When they reached the door, Jolie pushed it open with her mind. They’d been right. Patrick was in bed, and with a very naked female.

  She was covered in bite marks.

  “It looks like he fed well before going to death,” Jolie whispered.

  The girl stirred, rolling to her back. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, not even bothering to cover her nakedness.

  Jolie dropped the accent. “I’ll tell you who I am,” she said, a southern twang to her voice. “I’m his damn wife, and you’re in bed with my man!”

  The woman stared openmouthed. “What?”

  “My brothers and I are going to kick his ass, and then I’m going to file for a divorce. You can have him when we’re done with his sorry ass!”

  “Bessy, we’ll kick her ass too,” added Jacques, his voice also mimicking the same accent.

  Flynn just stared at them in awe. ‘Who are you two?’ he whispered into their minds.

  It was met with laughter.

  “I had no idea. He said he wasn’t attached. I didn't know he had a wife!”

  “Oh, he’s about to be very unattached when my brothers here beat the hell out of him. I suggest you run for it, before I have them hold you down, so I can take out my anger on someone.”

  The woman scrambled for her clothes and took off down the stairs. Jolie laughed when she heard her horrified scream.

  “She obviously found Leo.”

  Then there was the squeal of tires.

  “Very nice, baby,” offered Flynn. “Maybe next time we’re rolling around, we can play three naughty British tourists,” teased Flynn, winking at her.

  Jolie started laughing at his lecherous stare. “That can be arranged.”

  “We need to get this done.” Jacques pulled the sheet off of Patrick so Jolie could find a spot beside him.

  “You both can wait outside. I want him surprised.”

  The men obeyed.

  “He is in for a special treat,” snickered Flynn. “Keep yourself safe,” he added.

  It didn't take long.

  Jolie could feel him stirring. She watched him take a deep breath, and when he rolled over to pull her against him, there was confusion.

  “What are you doing dressed, baby?” he asked sleepily. “I have more in store for you.”

  She stayed silent.

  When he opened his eyes, it took a few seconds for recognition to hit.

  “Holy shit,” he yelped, but couldn’t move. Jolie was pinning him into place with energy.

  “Patrick, you’ve been a naughty boy,” she stated, sitting up as her mates entered the room again. “I hear you’ve been aiding Zola again, and that makes me unhappy.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  Jolie tsked him. “Liar liar, soon you’ll be on fire.”

  He looked worried.

  “Look what we found in the other room,” Flynn said, holding up some silver chains and manacles. “Someone likes to play bondage games.”

  “Well, I hope it’s not him. That will ruin my fun. Chain him to the bed. He screwed with us, and it’s time to pay him back.”

  He began struggling as the men did what Jolie asked. They stretched the vampyre out, chaining his legs and arms until he was spread eagle.

  “Ready,” Flynn stated.

  Jolie took a seat beside Patrick. She flicked a long elegant finger over one of his pierced nipples. “Have you been helping Zola?”

  “No.”

  Jolie turned toward her mates, reaching for their minds. ‘I’ve promised Death three kills, and all must be violent. I ask that you leave the room, and don’t come back.’

  ‘Jolie, we’ll stay,’ Flynn offered.

  ‘Thank you, my love, but I need to do this alone.’

  ‘If you need us please call,’ said Jacques, turning to leave.

  “Where are they going?” asked Patrick. becoming more and more alarmed.

  Jolie laughed at her captive on the bed. “They know what’s coming, and they don’t want to get bloody.”

  “Oh God,” he whispered, obviously terrified by the look on her face.

  Suddenly, he felt it.

  His expression said it all.

  “That would be my mistress. When I kill someone, she feeds on the energy. I guess Zola didn't warn you, huh?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m the harbinger, and you’re my first offering for the night,” Jolie answered, straddling his body at the waist. “Now tell me where Demetre is, and we’ll stop playing this game.”

  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, his lips moved like a fish out of water.

  Jolie slowly began choking life from him.

  “While you’re at it, where’s that deranged bitch? I’m going to end her life.”

  Both men could feel Jolie using her energy to block them from the room and her mind. They could hear the screams as she started to get the information she needed out of Patrick. The last scream was particularly horrific and Brogan had to say it.

  “She’s really torturing him, isn’t she?”

  “It appears.”

  Another scream.

  “What do you think she’s doing?”

  Jacques shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s nasty. Jolie isn’t happy. Zola has insulted her, and someone’s going to pay.”

  Yeah, he could tell.

  A wail filled the air, and Flynn stared at the door, a sick feeling had begun building in his gut.

  “She’ll be fine,” he reassured.

  He didn't buy that. He knew Jolie. This would eat away at her. While she was a killer, she had a piece of his soul. When this was over, she’d suffer.

  He had to believe that.

  He needed to.

  Then came the next scream.

  Jolie sat on his hips as she played with the silver blade that was embedded in Patrick’s stomach. She was getting the answers she wanted, but Death wasn’t satisfied.

  Jolie could hear her mistress’s voice in her head, begging for more. This was a position she didn't want to be in, but she’d made a deal.

  The two little lives were worth it.

  When this was over, there was no doubt that Patrick’s blood would stain her forever. This was torture, and Jolie prided herself on never crossing that line.

  Now, she was.

  It flashed her back to what had been done to her those many years ago. It was something she promised to never do.

  Great.

  She’d become just like Goethe.

  Still, she continued, “Now, Patrick. You’ve told me that you helped Zola by getting Demetre there, and that you know where he is, bu
t I need more. How about you tell me where that bitch is hiding?” Jolie twisted the knife as she cut further down his stomach.

  He screamed in pain.

  “Please!”

  “The quicker you spill it, the sooner I’m done.”

  He seemed to buy that. “She’s at a private house once owned by Delina. She didn’t think you’d look there!” He screamed as Jolie pulled the knife lower, leaving a seven inch cut in his stomach. “Please, I helped you!”

  Jolie laughed. “Yes, you did, but you also helped Zola, and that’s a crime punishable by death in our world. I’m truly sorry Patrick,” she said, as she sliced completely down his body eviscerating him.

  The sound he made was probably the worst thing she’d ever heard in all her life.

  It was like an animal being ripped to pieces.

  Jolie couldn’t watch as his body turned itself inside out. She escaped to the bathroom to clean up as he screamed and begged. She washed her hands and returned to see the puddle of blood start to drip off the bed.

  “Please! I’ll serve you. Save me!”

  It was too late.

  Here came the black tendrils. They crept from her body, moving toward the prone vampyre.

  Jolie was sick watching it, but she didn't look away. She couldn’t.

  She’d done this to him.

  When his body shook from Death draining him, Jolie wanted to be ill. Her hand pressed over her belly, she tried to rationalize it.

  This was her duty.

  She was primus.

  When had she become so weak?

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” she whispered, as she waited for Death to finish feeding.

  It was now out of her hands.

  Out in the hallway, both men heard the most blood curdling scream of their lives. Flynn couldn’t wait out there anymore. He needed to get to her. His mate was facing this alone, and it would eat away at her heart and soul.

  Jacques blocked his path. “Flynn, she wouldn’t want you to see what she’s doing. Give her time.”

  “I can’t! I’m worried.” He stared at the door. “She’s going to need us.”

  Jacques patted him on the shoulder, impressed that their mate truly saw what he saw. Jolie would suffer and like good partners, they’d be there for her.

  “We need to trust her. We’ve been treating her like she can’t handle it, but Jolie can, and will, be okay.”

  Flynn only had her for under a year. He didn't have the luxury of watching and learning over centuries. What he wanted was to wrap her up and keep her safe.

  Clean.

  Protected.

  Both men glanced over as the door opened.

  “It’s done.”

  Neither man missed how she looked like hell.

  Jacques moved to her side, pulling Jolie into his arms. She was coated in the stench of death, and the black tendrils were weaving their way up and down her body.

  He didn't care. Instead, he held her close.

  “Are you okay?”

  She didn't speak. Instead, Jolie inhaled his scent.

  Flynn cautiously approached. “Baby,” he said, placing his body behind her, trapping Jolie between them. “We were worried about you.”

  She believed him.

  In fact, she was worried about her too.

  “I hated that,” she admitted. “At least one is done. I only owe Death two more.”

  “Thank God,” Flynn muttered, kissing her tenderly on her neck.

  Jacques began leading them away. “We should go.”

  Jolie went to follow, but remembered something. “Oh, my dagger! I may need it later.”

  Flynn got there first. “I’ll get it for you, baby,” he offered, pushing the door open. The smell hit him, and it took him back. For the first time, he couldn’t walk into a scene like this.

  “Wait, Flynn, don’t…” But it was too late.

  “Oh Christ,” he whispered. He didn’t know what was worse--the decaying vampyre who was lying there in his own internal organs, or what was left of him after Death’s feeding.

  Jolie walked past him to retrieve her dagger. She could see it all in his eyes.

  He was disgusted.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that, Flynn.”

  “Yeah, so am I.”

  ∞ Chapter Thirty-Three ∞

  Wednesday Evening

  The entire ride back to the plantation, no one spoke. Normally, while riding their bikes, there’d be chatter in their minds.

  This time…there was dead silence.

  And it was deafening.

  Jolie could still feel the horror flowing from Flynn. His face was contorted with something she’d never seen before, and it hurt her.

  She knew what she’d done, but Jolie believed that her mates would stand by her--not be appalled.

  After all, that was her job.

  Flynn looked scared, and that didn't bode well. Something was coming, and Jolie was trying to brace for it.

  What choice did she have?

  Slowing the Interceptors down, they approached the run down building that Patrick had sworn Demetre was hiding in. She scanned the area and felt nothing, which either meant there was no one there, or everyone was dead.

  Each step toward the building was tenuous. Jolie was actually praying that the man was dead. If he lived, Jolie would have to handle him too.

  That might mean losing Flynn forever.

  Still, he wasn’t speaking, and he’d plastered a stoic look on his face.

  “I don’t feel anyone,” Jacques confirmed, as he came to stand beside his mate.

  It looked like Death wasn’t getting fed again.

  Lucky her.

  “She wouldn’t let him live,” Flynn stated, leaning against the building. “Zola would tie up all the loose ends.”

  They agreed.

  “We still have a problem,” Flynn offered, pushing the unlocked door open with his booted toe. “We can’t get in.”

  Yeah, that was going to be an issue.

  Jolie knew she had to confirm Demetre’s death. She closed her eyes before speaking out loud. “Vanth! I need you,” Within seconds, the woman shimmered into their midst.

  The demoness stood there. “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Can you switch to Chloe and invite us in? Then pop home and guard the house?” Jolie inquired.

  The demoness did what was asked of her. “There’s one human upstairs. He’s not in good shape,” she warned.

  “Thank you,” Jacques offered, right before Vanth left the building.

  Literally.

  The three moved through the dark until they came to a dim hallway. It was Jolie who came to a stop first.

  “Blood,” she whispered, sniffing the air.

  “Yes, it’s very strong and most likely fresh.”

  Flynn placed his body in front of hers. While their guardian in training was being punished, he would head in first. Not that Mathew would ever think to do that…

  Jolie laid her hand on his back. “Maybe I should go first,” she whispered to him. She didn’t want him to become more upset by what waited on the other side.

  “No, I’ve got it,” he said, with no emotion. The fact he was disturbed by what he saw before didn’t matter. He loved her, and she was pregnant with their children. Protection came first, despite what he felt about the dead vampyre he’d seen. She was his mate, and she needed to be shielded above everyone else.

  “Okay,” she whispered softly. Jacques reached for her mind, and she let him in.

  ‘Don’t worry, my love. He’ll adjust,’ he reassured.

  ‘Yes, I know, but it still hurts that he’s afraid. He saw what I was forced to do--what lives in me, Jacques.’

  ‘Jolie,’ he whispered, trying to comfort her.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she replied, but it was clearly not.

  Flynn did his cop thing, booting in the door. The second he did, he gasped in horror.

  Here was his second shock of the night.

  L
ying on the floor, pinned there with large gauge steel spikes, was Demetre.

  “Son of a bitch,” Flynn muttered, turning his head. He’d already had to watch one man’s entrails sliding across the floor, and twice was a little too much for even him.

  Jolie pushed past him, clicking across the tile floor in her heels. “He hasn’t been dead long.”

  “Only an hour,” said Jacques, sniffing the air.

  “You can tell that by the smell?” asked Flynn, with his hand protectively covering his nose. He’d been to a lot of crime scenes, but he normally had something to smear under his nose to mask the scent of bowel.

  “Yes. It’s pretty distinctive as he decays.”

  “Christ, that’s a bad way to die,” Brogan admitted, keeping his eyes adverted from Jolie. While he wanted to look at her, he couldn’t do it. The last thing he needed was her in his head.

  Then the truth would be out.

  Jolie closed Demetre’s eyes. She, too, was getting sick looking at his empty stare. “Trust me, Flynn. Any way you die is quite unpleasant.”

  “I guess,” he replied, moving away from the dead man. He needed to put space between them. Flynn might just puke.

  Jolie was getting angry. He wouldn’t look at her. He wouldn’t touch her. She’d let him see what she really was, and he was pulling away.

  “Flynn.”

  “No, Jolie. Stop.” He was trying to keep his gut from emptying again. This was a bad week for him when it came to tossing his cookies.

  She snapped in rage. “Why don’t you just say it, Flynn? Why don’t you look me in the eyes and tell me that I'm no better than Zola? I’m a heartless animal who has no soul when it comes to torturing people. I disgust you now. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “What?” He looked genuinely surprised.

  Jolie stared at him with lavender eyes blazing. “Since you saw what I did to Patrick, you’ve been acting like I’m a monster. You can’t even look me in the eyes. Well, I’m sorry, but this is what I am!”

  “Jolie,” he said softly, wishing she’d let it go.

  “Tell me, Flynn! Why you won’t look at me? Why are you moving as far from me as possible?” she asked. “Is it because you can’t bear to believe it? Yes, I’m a killer!”

  Jacques could hear the explosion coming. Jolie sounded borderline hysterical, and Flynn looked like someone sucker punched him in the gut. He wanted to intervene, but this was something that they needed to work out between them. Instead, he simply covered the dead man’s body with a worn blanket.