by Kim Schubert
Firmly buckling me in the Beast, Jerry went around to the driver’s side. I stared at my hands, seeing the blood I had already washed off. It was my fault. I was out shopping while they were being hunted and eliminated. What were they? I asked myself bowing my head into my hands. Every indicator said human, plain old basic human. What made them so special that they needed their throats torn out?
I let the darkness close over me, drowning out all other emotions, watching their deaths play out over and over again.
Hours later, I assumed by the night sky out the window at Jerry’s small but comfortable home, I buried the memories, having replayed them and tormented myself enough. I didn’t get a look at him in any mirror or reflective surface, nothing. Not a scrap of seeing through his eyes gave me any idea how he had been able to manipulate me either.
Jerry placed a cup of coffee in front of me, sitting across the table in his pale yellow and green kitchen. I took a sip, shaking my head.
“I can’t see anything that helps us know who did this or how he would be able to manipulate my vision.” I rubbed my temples, feeling overwhelmed.
Jerry cleared this throat, his vision lost to the brown surface of the coffee. When he finally gained the courage to meet my eyes, he said, “I have an idea on that.”
I set my cup down and crossed my arms over my pink shirt, waiting for him to elaborate.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Before you go jumpin’ to conclusions, I had nothing to do with it, nor did I even know it was actually possible.”
I relaxed my arms into my lap, noticing the softness of the denim, giving him the benefit of the doubt. He leaned his dark lean frame forward, pushing his usually immaculate suit against the whitewashed table. “This is old magic,” he said, using his pointer finger to tap the table, adding emphasis to his revelation.
I didn’t tamper in magic aside from what was naturally gifted to me. “What’s the difference between old and new?” I asked.
Jerry blew out a breath, leaning back against the white chair. “You got a few decades?” he asked seriously.
I smirked. “No. What are the main features that make you think this is old magic?”
“Well for one,” he said, leaning forward bracing his elbows on the table, “it ain’t been seen in a century.”
I braced my elbows on the table, mirroring his stance. “How is it, on occasion, you are well-spoken individual, while on others, your grammar leaves much to be desired?” I asked, honestly interested in a break from the turmoil in my head.
He smiled a wide carefree gesture, brushing pretend dust from his shoulder. “It’s all about presentation. Sometimes, I need to be a well-educated individual; other times, a hood rat be betta.”
I smiled, leaning back against the chair. “Very true.”
“Now,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “back to this being older magic than my granddad.” He cast a look behind me and my back stiffened, waiting for the attack. When he turned his gaze back to mine, I relaxed. “There are ancient stories of mortals walking in the realms of the gods, learning and bringing back that knowledge to the people. That is the first and last time it is ever mentioned. So for this fucker to be able to do it to you, he has to be old and powerful…” He paused on that word, searching my eyes with an uncomfortable intenseness. “So do not think you can handle him alone,” he stated slowly.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, got it,” I said sarcastically. Before he was able to scold me again, the kitchen door opened.
I reached in my boot for one of my hidden daggers, while Jerry, on the other hand without looking at the open door just waved in Mark from out of the rain, expecting him. Oh geez, how much did I miss? I had been out of the loop for only a few days, wasn’t it?
I shook that out of my head, focusing back on the matter on hand. I raised a now red eyebrow at Jerry, silently asking if Mark could be trusted.
He nodded, getting back into his explanation. “The second reason is that it is a very high level of magic, which takes, oh, maybe a century to master until the wielder is no longer frying the subject’s eye sockets.”
I sat back hard against the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Fantastic, not only did I have a psycho on my hands, I had a well-educated mage psycho. The key was to figure out what the similarities were between the two families, and that was Mercer’s court not mine.
Mark opened the fridge, grabbing a beer and sitting to my left at the table. “Interesting day at work?” he asked Jerry.
Jerry now raised his own eyebrow, silently inquiring if I trusted Mark enough to share the day’s events. I nodded. “It’s either from you or on the news, I would guess,” I said, shrugging and rubbing my temple.
Jerry relayed the events that led to my being in his kitchen, while I checked my cell phone. There was nothing from Mercer, but I did need to share with him what Jerry had said.
The thing that is killing is old magic, and experienced. Be careful, I sent, grabbing my own beer from the fridge and sitting back at the table.
Jerry went to the drawer next to the sink, pulling out takeout menus. “Well darlings, what will it be?”
We finally decided on Chinese. I ordered the chicken lettuce wraps without chicken. Jerry was properly scolded on the phone for that request. He pulled the phone away, glaring at me.
“What?” I said, pretending innocence. “I like the sauce!”
Jerry made an annoyed sound after hanging up the phone. “Oh,” he said, turning from the wall kitchen drawer, “whoever is getting into your head has your blood. That is the only way to make this connection.”
I nodded. “That list has to be very small. I can start there tomorrow and work backwards.”
After dinner and a report from Mark that Kass, Darren, and Hannah had been successful moved into the safe house and Darren had an offer in on another home not far from our manor, I took my leave.
Jerry let me drive the Beast to my hotel, partially to conceal where I was staying and partially to allow him and Mark to have some time together; besides, I still hadn’t come clean with the details of my own personal hit squad and I didn’t relish getting either of them involved. Steven was mine.
Pulling out of the older, quiet neighborhood, I took a few side streets and turns I didn’t need to in order to ensure no one was following me.
A lonely night bellman helped me with my numerous purchases. I tipped him and closed my door, wanting a shower to forget this day, but knowing full well my night would be short and terror driven.
I pulled the new pink V-neck over my head, tossing it on the couch following by my boots and jeans. Reaching a hand to release my bra clasps, I stopped dead in my tracks, shocked at the undead sitting on my bed.
“What the fuck?” I spat, mildly humiliated in my underwear, and annoyed that Tate had found me.
Eventually, his brown eyes made it back to my own dark green ones. “We need to talk,” he said softly, the attraction plain on his face.
I scowled, crossing my arms over bare skin, watching his eyes track back down for a moment. He cleared his throat. “We heard what happened.”
I sighed walking towards the shower. “You are going to need to clarify which incident you’re talking about,” I said, starting the hot water for a shower. “And furthermore, you can either wait until I get a shower or talk to me while I’m in it,” I said stripping out of my undergarments, leaving the door partially cracked. “It’s been a long fucking day,” I whispered to myself, stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain, glad it was only transparent to my shoulders before becoming a solid white.
“Why is that?” Tate asked, his voice coming from just outside the bathroom.
Damn vamp hearing; I forgot how annoyingly impressive it was. I sighed letting the hot water run rampant over my body. The bruises from the hit and run had healed along with the cut. I slammed my hand against the tiled shower stall; that’s how my blood became open to the general public. I just left that vehicle in the
fucking street. Idiot!
“Are you alright?” Tate said, now in the bathroom with me.
Rubbing my hand and checking if I had cracked any tiles, I glared at him until he resumed his previous post outside the bathroom.
“What incident did you need to talk about?” I asked Tate, the exhaustion perfectly evident in my voice.
“The letting you had Morgan and I assist with,” he replied.
Had to give it to the man, his political tact was spotless. Dimly, I wondered what house he was master of and if, his age would be catching up to him.
“I didn’t force him against his wishes,” I said, referring to the young man he had pulled from. I shampooed my hair, washing the blood and dirt out, sad to see some of the dye leaving with it.
Tate moved uncomfortably against the open threshold. I sighed, turning off the water and pulling a thick plush hotel towel around me, before also wrapping my damp hair up. True to form, the place was similar to a sauna.
“Tate,” I said quietly, opening the door, “I swear I did not force him. I only helped get through the rage of first blood to help him calm down. If he didn’t want you to drain him, I couldn’t have made him say what he did.”
His eyes again took their sweet time finding my face. Crossing my arms with irritation, I kicked a hip out against the door fame as well, noticing the yellow cast in Tate’s eyes.
“Holy fuck, when was the last time you fed?” I asked, now very worried.
I watched Tate’s fangs descend. “Not since that day,” he said around his enlarged teeth. “I was worried.”
“Fuck, Tate, how old are you?” I said, moving to sit on the bed and holding out my wrist. “Let’s go, you idiot.”
He moved silently next to me, kneeling and greedily inhaling my scent through his now even more advanced senses. Succubus blood was powerful; freely given to a vampire, it was doubly so. I was feeling a tad sorry about putting him off now that I saw how seriously he had taken it.
I closed my eyes to squish the sensations he was building in me, which was a terrible idea, as it only made them more alive. From my wrist, I felt his gentle lips move along my forearm to my elbow, and give a gentle nip at my shoulder.
That earned him a yip from me and I could feel him smiling against my neck. “Are you certain you are telling me the truth?” he whispered against my neck.
“Yes, Tate,” I said, fighting to keep my voice and heartbeat even. The last thing I needed was to kick out seduction pheromones and end up in bed with him. I was tempted to; the extended life of vampires led to an amazing skill set in the bedroom, as I had the pleasure to experience firsthand. But one of my cardinal rules was to not sleeping with those I worked with. Tate, being the head of one of the houses here, where I was bound to spend time, unfortunately counted as a coworker.
I felt him push the towel off my damp hair. “Tate,” I warned, “I will withdraw my offer.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Gently, I felt his fangs pierce my skin, one landing perfectly in my jugular, while the other was slightly off. Asshole, I thought to myself. He knew exactly how to prolong this. A clean bite into my jugular with both fangs would be a quick feeding. He had essentially doubled his time at my neck. Asshole.
One thing vamp books had correct was how amazing pleasurable a bite feels. It was a prelude to seduction or a heightened sexual experience, which I was not thinking about. I warned myself feeling my pulse escalate while my breathing was a little too close for panting for my liking. It probably had something to do with the fact Tate now had me pinned under him in the bed, my calves against the comforter, while my toes brushed the carpet fibers as I flexed them.
He twisted ever so slightly, causing my back to arch and a whimper escape my lips. Dammit, now I was panting.
Pulling his fangs out, Tate bit his lip with his still drawn fangs, pressing his blood against the wound in my neck to stop the bleeding. I didn’t expect to feel his forehead against my own; I opened my eyes wide into his brown and yellow tinted gaze.
“Olivia…” My name on his lips was a promise, one I desperately wanted to have him fulfill. I was so dangerously close to saying yes.
“What about the other incident?” he asked.
I clenched my eyes closed, feeling all the heat and desire shut down faster than I could pull it in. I pushed against his chest, and, thankfully, he moved to sit next to me.
I sighed, running my hands through my tangled hair, bracing my forearms on my knees. From those few moments of intimacy, I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t. “Nothing you need to worry about,” I answered, standing and rummaging through my bags for something to wear.
He leaned back, legs spread apart, hands situated behind him. Hot asshole, his eyes, still glowing, watched me too closely.
“It did not sound like nothing,” he responded, clearly having no intention of leaving.
Huffing, I dressed under the towel into black yoga pants and a turquoise tank top with new undergarments.
“It will be nothing,” I answered levelly, turning back to him with my arms crossed, thankful his eyes had returned to being only a lovely shade of brown.
“Your vehicle was totaled,” he said, still showing no signs of leaving.
I sighed, returning to the now vented bathroom to comb my hair, not knowing what else to say to Tate. Yes, I was almost killed. Yes, I know who one of the men was. No, I’m trying not to start an internal species issue.
Hair combed, teeth brushed, I exited the bathroom to find Tate leisurely lying on my bed with his hands behind his head.
I took one look at him and rolled my eyes. “I’m going to bed,” I announced, not remotely caring he was trying to throw my game. Let him try; it would take more than one sexy-ass vamp to screw with me.
He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Alone,“ I said, throwing back the covers and snuggling in.
I was far more exhausted than I admitted to myself; once my head hit the pillow, I was out. I never heard Tate leave. I expected my dreams to be the same awful nightmares as my waking hours. I was surprised when the sunlight snuck between the curtains, waking me up. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept an entire night.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I had lost my bra and pants, which was more typical of how I slept. What I wasn’t expecting to see was to see a shirtless vampire next me to. I’m not going to lie; I really wanted to pull down the covers too see if he had anything else on under the sheet. Well, at least that explained why I hadn’t heard him leave.
The view was amazing. While I initially wouldn’t call Tate my “type,” I was suddenly learning how wrong I was. His lean exterior hid the chiseled sculpted chest and perfectly formed abs. His arms were still behind his head, emphasizing his bulging biceps.
A lazy smile graced his lips, and I knew I was in trouble. “Are you enjoying the view?” he asked with his eyes closed.
Cocky asshole. “Nope,” I said, hopping out of bed. “I was debating if I should kill you for not leaving.” I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing, as his eyes opened, I wasn’t wearing any pants.
His tongue peeked out running his bottom lip before his eyes made it back to my eyes. “Damn it, Tate,” I scolded, “I work with you.” I dashed to the bathroom, feeling my self-control fading fast.
When I exited cautiously, Tate was gratefully dressed and in the other room. Quickly, I grabbed my clothing, moving out of his sight to get dressed. After losing my working leathers, jeans would have to do and a jacket over my white shirt to hide my guns and silver knives.
Coming back into view, he said, “Sorry, Olie, it’s been a long time since I woke up to the smell of desire.” He gave me the strangest look.
What the hell do I say to that? I opted for nothing, noticing his interest in my files strewn on the table.
“I’d like to help with these,” he said, indicating the murders.
I sighed, sitting next to him. “Me too.”
“What do you need?” he as
ked gently, moving the photos across the table.
I ran a hand through my red hair, pulling it into a pony. “I need to know how they’re connected. The killer thinks they’re abominations, evil, and must be eliminated. If I knew why, what trait they shared and which member had it, I might be able to protect others.”
He nodded. “Can you get me DNA samples?”
“I can,” I answered. No, Mercer would never ever give me what I wanted, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other methods. Besides, working in the system had proven ineffective and gotten another family killed, I was done playing the Governor’s game.
Tate pushed away from the table, standing, his earlier attraction forgotten. I really wished I could do the same; it pushed against my self-control, straining to make it past my skin and into the air where he would undoubtedly sense it again.
At the door, he paused, turning to look at me again strangely. “I saved my number in your phone. Call me once you have what we need,” he said.
I nodded, leaning against the doorframe. His hand reached out to cup my cheek while his lips touched briefly on my forehead. “This isn’t done, Olivia.”
I smiled. “Nothing ever is,” I answered, moving to close the door. I sighed heavily. That’s a complication I really didn’t need, attraction to a master vampire.
Rolling my shoulders, I pulled my phone from my purse, answering Jerry’s text, What time you be here?
I laughed and texted, 45 minutes.
Chapter 6
After making sure that Jerry had Mercer thoroughly distracted and away from his office, I crawled into the dusty ventilation shaft of the morgue. I had already persuaded the security guard to shut off the security cameras, and, yes, it was possible; I used my fists.
Dropping down into cold storage, I set the backpack on the ground, getting to work. Cold storage was exactly as it sounded: table after table of dead bodies. No one was here this early; apparently, the budget cuts had eliminated the morning shift, so only swing and graveyard were left. That provided me with an opportunity to steal what I needed.