Raine came into the room just in time to catch Ashe’s vicious scowl as he leaned forward from his place on the love seat, his focus on the three Markers that were lying on the small coffee table in front of him. “If that’s true, then how do we get them out?”
“Depends on how deeply he imbedded them,” Seth replied, his voice tense. “We might risk damaging the Markers if we screw around with them.”
“But if he’s bugged them,” the vampire muttered, “then he’ll be following us, mirroring our every move, until he finally tries to take every last damn one of them.”
Raine picked up one of the Markers, turning it over in her hand. “Then we’ll just have to be ready. As long as we know he’s tracking us, we can’t be taken by surprise.”
They talked for a moment about how Gideon and Liam would remain in the town, keeping an eye on the apartment, as well as Spark, and then Ashe collected the two Markers on the table, taking the one that Raine offered back to him as he moved to his feet. “I’ve got to go and get my things from the safe house,” he said, shifting his gaze to Seth. “Then I’ll meet you guys back here and we can head out. I told Kierland we should make it back to Harrow House by tomorrow. Apparently, they’ve been lucky with these last few crosses and now Saige is getting close to having the last map decoded, so we’re going to need all the Markers in one location as soon as possible.”
While Seth saw the vampire out, Raine headed into the bedroom to collect her things. Though she should have been buzzing with restless energy, she felt a kind of calm acceptance of what was to come, the end of the war finally nearing. Seth came into the room behind her and leaned his shoulders against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, a guarded expression on his face as he watched her move around the room.
“Are you looking forward to going back to Harrow House?” he asked in a low slide of words.
She didn’t look at him as she responded. “I’m not going back just yet.”
There was a sharp curse, followed by a guttural command: “You’re done, Raine.”
“You said you would help me go after Wentworth. Was that a lie?” she asked, dropping her open bag on the bed as she looked over at him.
“No, it wasn’t a lie.” His breath roughened and he dropped his arms, flexing his hands at his sides, his expression grim. “I guess I was stupidly hoping that you’d be reasonable once we had the Markers.”
“But there’s still one cross to find. And I can’t return this one until I’ve killed Wentworth,” she said, pulling the Marker she’d taken from Harrow House from her pocket.
A scowl creased his brow. “I thought you didn’t know where he was.”
“I was finally able to get a read on him while you were gone and he’s close, Seth. In Florence. We’re talking only a few hours by train, and my parents have a new villa there that we can stay in.” She took a quick breath, then rushed on. “I can’t just let him get away. If I’m lucky, I’ll take him down fast and have this Marker back to the Watchmen before they find the last one…and everyone will be happy.”
“Really?” His eyes narrowed to hot, angry slits. “Because I’m thinking that you’re pushing your luck, and the odds are high that you’re going to end up dead.”
Softly, she said, “And like I told you before, I’m willing to accept those odds.”
Frustration flattened his mouth, but he took a deep breath, obviously trying to figure out the best way to handle her. “Your hatred’s like a drug,” he rasped a moment later, his deep voice thick with emotion. “Trust me, I know the feeling, Raine. But the problem with any addiction is that it keeps eating at you, long after you’ve gotten your fix.”
“But without the hatred, I’ll be left with nothing but the guilt.” She gave a breathless laugh that was flavored with bitterness. “And between the two, I’ll take the hatred any day.”
“Damn it, you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I wish I could agree with you, Seth. But I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
His expression was so tortured, she couldn’t help but feel like a bitch. But damn it, she couldn’t give in, no matter how tempted she was to just tell him what he wanted to hear. This was something she had to do. If she ever wanted to have any kind of normal life again, then she had to know that she’d done everything she could to avenge her sister’s death.
Throwing in the last of her things, Raine closed the pack and lifted it over her shoulder. “You can either come with me or head back with Ashe,” she told him, forcing herself to meet that furious green gaze. “But either way, I’m finishing what I started.”
Harrow House
The Lake District, England
HAVING WORKED HIS ASS off in a grueling session down in the manor’s gym, Noah Winston was feeling remarkably mellow as he walked out of his bathroom and headed for his dresser with a towel wrapped around his waist. Of course, the instant he caught sight of his reflection in the dresser’s mirror, he winced, his body pulling tight with a familiar tension. His eyes seemed lighter each time he saw them, looking more and more like a Casus each day. That pale shade of ice-blue color continually mocked him with the knowledge that his hours were numbered, as well as those of his family.
Tick…tick…tick…
And then there were the nightmares. The disturbing dreams of him hunting and killing, feeding on human flesh and drinking his victim’s blood. It’d gotten to the point that he was afraid to fucking fall asleep, every night’s dreams worse than the last.
Of course, his behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed. He knew the others thought he was acting strange—but hell, it’s not like it should have been hard for them to understand. As a member of one of the strongest Casus bloodlines in existence, Noah had reason to be cranky. A millennium ago, one of those Casus bastards had raped a human female who miraculously survived…and went on to give birth to a child, and so his bloodline had begun. A bloodline tainted with Casus blood.
And while the Winstons weren’t the only humans with Casus blood flowing through their veins, such bloodlines certainly weren’t common. They were, however, in hot demand at the moment, since it was these cursed lines that were used as host bodies by the Casus shades.
Considering how worried he was about his family, the only thing keeping Noah sane at the moment was the search for the Markers and his work on the death journal, which they hoped would provide them with a way to destroy the Death-Walkers once the Casus had been killed and the Walkers had escaped from hell. Noah had written several letters asking for information and mailed them to Louisiana, hoping the crazy Broussard family he’d grown up with could give him some answers about the strange language used in the part of the journal they believed referred to the Death-Walkers. He’d had to mail letters, since he knew the Broussards, who lived out in the bayou, refused to have anything to do with computers or telephones. But he didn’t know if anyone had received his inquiries. They certainly hadn’t bothered to reply. The last time he’d talked to his youngest brother in San Francisco, who was staying at Noah’s condo, there’d still been no response.
Either the letters Noah mailed had been ignored…or they’d simply been thrown away without being opened—and considering how the Broussard family felt about him, he supposed neither scenario would have been all that surprising.
A heavy fist knocked on his bedroom door, but he pretended he didn’t hear it, not in the mood for company as he ripped open a drawer and pulled out a pair of sweats. Unfortunately, Kellan Scott never waited for an invitation to enter—but just came right on in, a satisfied smile on the bastard’s face, which was about the only expression the Lycan ever wore these days. The guy reeked of romantic bliss, and though Noah tried to be happy for his friends, he couldn’t help but feel that everyone at Harrow House was finding a bit of heaven in the midst of all this hell…except for him.
“I’ve got some bad news, and I’ve got some good news,” Kellan drawled, propping his shoulder against the wall as Noah p
ulled on the sweats, then hooked the towel around his neck. “Ashe called to say that Westmore got away, but they managed to get the Markers.”
“Did Saige finish the map yet?” he asked, using one end of the towel to dry his hair.
“No, but she’s nearly got it.”
“And what about the Marker that the psychic took off with?” He tossed the towel on top of his overflowing hamper, then turned and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the Lycan. “Did they get it back from her?”
Kellan gave an easy shrug, his thumbs hooked in his front pockets. “Not yet. But Seth assures us that they’ll be bringing it back within the next day or so.”
Noah made a thick sound in the back of his throat, hating the damn waiting. He wanted this war over and done with, terrified that any minute now one of those Casus assholes was going to take over someone in his family. Someone he cared about.
“You know what I think?” Kellan asked. “I think there’s something else going on that you’re not telling us.” The Lycan’s gaze was dark with concern. “And I think it’s got something to do with that blonde witch we ran into back in the Wasteland. The one who was working with Gregory. The one you said that you knew.”
Noah worked his jaw as he turned his back on the Lycan and headed toward the room’s window, his muscles coiled, his insides cramping. He’d told the others he had no intention of talking about what had happened on the night Kellan had faced off against Gregory DeKreznick…and that particular witch had used her power to freeze them all in place, before disappearing. But Kellan just wouldn’t let it go.
And until someone from the Broussard family answered those letters, he wasn’t telling anyone a goddamn thing.
Bracing his hands on the top of the window frame, Noah stared out into the glittering darkness and pulled in a slow, deep breath. “I appreciate your concern, Kell. But I’d really rather just be alone right now.”
The Lycan gave a worried sigh, but finally left him in peace…and Noah stayed at the window long after Kellan had left, lost in his thoughts, his rough breaths keeping perfect time with that ominous countdown in his head.
Tick…tick…tick…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IGNORING THE PASSING scenery, Seth sat with his back to the train’s window, his attention focused on the woman sleeping in the seat next to his. She’d wanted to simply go into one of her light trance states, but he’d argued that she needed a couple hours of good, solid sleep while they were traveling to Florence. Though she claimed she didn’t need a nap, she’d finally relented after he’d explained that he’d caught a few hours earlier in the day.
And while trains usually made him feel restless and cramped, the seats too small for someone his height, Seth was feeling remarkably content as he sat there and watched her, soaking in her beauty the way a leaf soaked in rays of sunshine. It was a kind of sustenance, like manna that fed some inner hunger burning inside him.
He’d never realized what a difference it would make, sleeping with someone who knew all of him, instead of just the pieces that he chose to share. The sex had honestly been…mind-blowing, her body endlessly soft and sweet, drugging his senses with pleasure. He could have stayed inside her forever. Still wanted to, even though she was slowly killing him with her thirst for revenge. He was so damn terrified of losing her, he couldn’t think straight, a burning urgency to hide her away and keep her protected boiling through his blood.
I should lock her in my room the instant we reach Harrow House. Should just keep her there until West more and the Casus are destroyed. Until it’s safe for her again…
But Seth knew he’d only end up turning her against him if he followed through on the primal impulses. That he’d only turn whatever she felt for him to hate. He’d gotten lucky when she’d chosen to forgive him for going after the Markers without her, but to do something like that a second time would be pushing his luck.
The minutes stretched out, bleeding slowly into hours, the rhythm of the train’s wheels the only sound but for the soft, husky murmurs she would make every now and then. Seth used the time to relive those heart-pounding moments when he’d had her naked and willing beneath him, the remembered pleasure scraping all the way down to his bones.
And yet…just because he couldn’t get her naked now didn’t mean he couldn’t touch her. Powerless to hold back any longer, Seth leaned toward her, nuzzling his face against the side of her throat. He imagined laying her down in a field of soft, vibrant flowers, her pale skin shining like a pearl. Imagined all the wicked things he would do to her in that verdant field.
Breathing in a greedy lungful of her scent, he kissed his way up to her ear, whispering how badly he wanted her…how much he needed her, and she came awake with a small cry, chill bumps spreading over her skin as he nipped her delicate earlobe with his teeth.
“What the hell are you doing?” she moaned, shivering as he kissed his way back down the slender column of her throat, sucking at her soft skin, the pressure just shy of marking her.
“I don’t want you to forget,” he rasped, the husky words laden with hunger.
“Forget what?”
His reply was soft, his lips moving against her as he spoke. “How good we are together. How it feels when I touch you. When I’m inside you.”
“Are you…are you trying to seduce me into changing my mind about continuing with the hunt?”
The words held a heavy note of suspicion, so Seth drew back until he could look her in the eye. “It’d be nice as hell if that were possible,” he rumbled, “but no, I’m not trying to manipulate you.” He brushed his knuckles across the softness of her cheek. “I just want to make sure you remember there are things worth living for.”
“Like what?” she asked. Her voice was breathless, her slender hand trembling as she tucked a honeyed strand of hair behind her ear. “Pleasure? Sex?”
A wry grin twitched at the corner of Seth’s mouth. “I was thinking of something a bit more specific. As in sex with me.”
She laughed, her beautiful eyes sparkling as she gave him another one of those soft smiles, the second one hitting his system just as hard as the first—his chest tight, breath locked in his lungs—and Seth knew, in that instant, that he’d do whatever it took to keep this woman safe, no matter the consequences. Suddenly, everything had become so clear, it was as if he was finally seeing for the first time. Colors, shapes…emotions.
He would have a talk with her once they reached Harrow House, and try to make her see reason. Seth knew she planned on going into battle against the Casus with him and the others when they found Meridian, and he was going to do everything he could to talk her out of it. But if he failed, he couldn’t keep worrying about how she’d react if he had to take action and have her restrained at the compound. Yeah, it was going to suck to have her angry at him, and he had no doubt that he’d be left groveling for years to come. But he’d do the time, if it meant keeping her safe. He had to…because he didn’t have any other choice.
If that’s what it came down to, he’d do it because he loved her.
Florence, Italy
2:30 a.m.
SETH HADN’T SAID much on the way to the villa, or as Raine had left him standing there with his shoulders propped against the door to their room when she went to take her shower. But as she came out of the bathroom, dressed in sweats and a tank top, he sent her a sharp look from his place against the door and finally said what was on his mind.
“It’s over now,” he rasped. “He was the last one, Raine.”
Seth had cut his arm again as soon as they’d reached the city, giving her a hefty dose of blood, and then they’d immediately gone after Wentworth. Luckily, it hadn’t taken long to find him. In less than a half hour, they’d managed to corner the Casus in a dark alley, the two of them working together with perfect timing and precision. And this time, Raine had allowed the soldier to be the one who used the Marker to fry the bastard.
It no longer felt strange or scary to have
Seth helping her carry out her revenge against the Casus. What frightened her was what Calder had planned for the human once they reached Meridian.
“I said it’s over, Raine.” There was a sharp note of impatience in the words. “Your hunt is finished.”
“In a way, yes.” She sat down on the foot of the room’s massive antique bed and forced herself to look at him as she said, “But Westmore is still alive.”
His chest lifted, stretching the soft cotton of his T-shirt as he drew in a deep breath, his beautiful eyes dark with disappointment. “We got the Markers back from West more. And the Casus on your list are dead. That’s what you wanted.” His voice was getting harder…rougher. “I wasn’t going to have this talk with you until we reached Harrow House, but it can’t wait. I’m begging you, Raine. Just find a way to be happy and let it go.”
“But Westmore’s the one who gave the order for Rietta to be killed,” she argued. “And Carlson isn’t in hell yet. When you shot him, his shade was sent back to Meridian. If I stop now, I fail, Seth.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his knuckles still scabbed from where he’d punched that wall in Paris three nights ago. Three nights that felt like a lifetime, but then, they’d packed a lot of emotion into the time they’d been together. Whatever else was said about their relationship, no one could ever call it boring.
“And what if I swear to you that I’ll make sure Westmore and Carlson pay for what they did?” he demanded. “Will that make a difference?”
“Their crimes were against my family,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be the one who keeps taking on the danger. You don’t deserve that.”
Bitterly, he said, “I’m a vampire killer, remember? I probably deserve that and more.”
“You know I don’t feel that way,” she said, her emotions no doubt blasted all over her face, so easy for him to see. “You’re a good man, Seth. One of the best I’ve ever known.”
His eyes burned as he suddenly pushed away from the door and crossed the room to her, the color like bright chips of molten green. “So exactly when does it end, Raine? When you’re dead?” A muscle pulsed in the side of his jaw as he towered over her. “Because you might be willing to accept that outcome, but I’m not.”
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