Come Hell or High Water (Hellcat Series Book 5)

by Sharon Hannaford

  Blushing a little, she collected the tablet, but left the papers, which were transcripts of the messages, on his desk. Then she rose to her feet, for once meeting his gaze squarely. “You need to tell her,” she said to him, her words measured and heavy with meaning. “I know you were holding back because you didn’t have anything solid, and I will never betray your trust, but she’s an intelligent woman. You know it will end badly if she finds out any other way.” Then she turned and quietly left the room.

  Julius dropped his head onto his clasped fists, Trish’s words resonating through his mind. She spoke the truth, he couldn’t deny that. If Gabi found out that he was keeping secrets from her, secrets that could affect their lives and the lives of those around them…well, Red Rage might just look like a toddler tantrum compared to that.

  And worse, it might just break something between them. Trust was an intrinsic part of any relationship, and her trust was gifted only to an honoured few. He knew that, and treasured it.

  And yet he hadn’t been able to tell her. Each time he considered voicing his suspicions, each time the words gathered in his throat, he remembered how close she’d come to walking away from him just a few months ago when she’d thought it would protect him and all her other loved ones. She would do it in a heartbeat. And that scared him all the way to his bone marrow. Gathering the papers, he prepared a text message to four of his most trusted advisors; perhaps they would bring him some resolution.

  ********************

  “What are we doing meeting here, Julius?” Alexander asked him, striding into the private pool room at Flamingos Gentlemen’s Club. His second in command was the last to arrive, his tousled blond hair more mussed than usual, his boot laces untied, and wafting a lingering scent of honeysuckle. Julius suspected his long-time friend was keeping something from them. That something being a pretty, blonde and powerful High Magus named Athena. He needed to have a word with Alexander later. The raucous noise of catcalling men, whistles and loud music blared before Alexander shut the door. The din dropped a thousandfold and Julius flexed his jaw, easing the pain in his eardrums from the brief onslaught. At least the girls would be making good money tonight.

  Fergus, the brash Scotsman who was part of the Clan by choice and not by Siring, was standing patiently on the opposite side of the room. Nathan and Liam, brothers and his security and business advisors respectively, retired from their game of pool, laughing. It wasn’t much of a game when the first person to break always cleared the table.

  “I didn’t want to risk being overheard or disturbed,” Julius said in a low voice. This room was soundproofed better than a twentieth-century asylum, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “What I have to tell you is to go no further than the five of us without express permission from me.”

  “Where’s Hellcat?” Alexander asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “She is one of two reasons we’re here instead of at the Estate,” Julius said. “I haven’t discussed this with her. Yet. I will only do so if it becomes necessary. She has enough on her mind right now.” The excuse sounded feeble to his own ears, he knew his men would see right through it, but they wouldn’t go against his wishes, not even Alexander. With Alexander’s recent upgrade to Master level, courtesy of Gabi giving him blood to save him, something had changed in the man. He walked with new vigour, acted with more authority, and had handled a tough leadership role with assured confidence at the cursed battle for the Source. And Alexander loved Gabi too, not in the same way that Julius did, luckily for both of them, but he had a soft spot the size of Russia for her. Despite that, Julius absolutely trusted in his friend’s compliance. They’d been together too long to doubt each other.

  “The second reason is our resident Princep?” Alexander guessed, and Julius nodded with pursed lips. He was finding it increasingly strange that Benedict, the Vampire Princep who had come to assist them retain possession of the Source, hadn’t yet returned to the Princep Court. Though he suspected that Alexander’s lovely, and officially single, High Magus had something to do with that. And that fact had everything to do with the distaste apparent in Alexander’s tone as he spoke of the Princep.

  “You have news of the Shadow group?” Nathan asked, immediately leaping to the right conclusion. It was with good reason that Nathan headed Julius’s security department. “You have some verifiable intel?”

  “Yes,” Julius said with a drawn-out breath. “As you know, I’ve become increasingly concerned that we’ve attracted their attention. Too many unprecedented events have occurred lately to pretend ignorance. Trish intercepted some encrypted messages that are almost certainly private missives between members of this group. The messages confirm that we are firmly in their sights, and they’ve been keeping a very close watch on the goings-on here in the City. They have some kind of affiliation with at least two of the Princeps, possibly a third, but we haven’t been able to confirm which ones. It’s even conceivable the Princeps are all their puppets.”

  “From mah experience that wid be unlikely, Sire,” Fergus interjected. The Scotsman had spent several decades working as one of the Princep Enforcers, the small, highly trained army that hunted down renegades and executed Vampire lawbreakers. “Some, maybe, but nae all o’ them.”

  “Are they out to eliminate us or just keep us off balance?” Alexander asked, frown lines marring his forehead.

  “So far Trish hasn’t found any precise details of plans that involve us. We don’t know if that’s because they haven’t made any yet, or because we just haven’t found the data yet. But something tells me life in the City is about to get extremely challenging.”

  “We’ve done challenging before, Sire,” Nathan said, and Liam backed him up with a nod. It was true; being the Clan of the youngest-ever Master Vampire hadn’t been an easy road. Their ultimate success in gaining their own City lay largely with the strength and belief of these men.

  “Aye,” Fergus agreed, “and we’ll stand our ground again.” They would fight to the death to keep what they had won. “But, Sire.” Fergus caught and held his gaze, something very few Vampires were able to do. “She is one o’ us noo, she is yer Consort. She needs tae know.”

  ********************

  Dawn was creeping inevitably closer as Julius gazed at the woman in his bed. It was rare to see her so vulnerable. Rare that she fell asleep waiting for him. The jasmine and coconut fragrance of her shampoo complimented her own natural scent of vanilla and fine sherry. Her breathing and heartbeat were both steady and strong, and the flickering light of the gas fire highlighted the hint of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was on her side, facing the door, one leg thrown over the covers, the medical brace on her knee outlined against the navy yoga pants she wore. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, she’d been waiting for him. Her breathing changed, and she drew in a long slow breath. She was awake and aware of his presence. The sudden increase in her heart rate and the subtle scent of her arousal was too inviting to turn down.

  Julius divested himself of jacket and shoes and stalked her from the foot of the bed. He tugged the bedcovers away before deftly unbuttoning the oversized shirt she was wearing and then easing her yoga pants down over the knee and ankle braces. When he was done, he paused to take in the sight of her lean, muscled body. She blinked sleepily, watching him drink her in with a calmness contrary to her body’s response to him. He set to the task of gently but speedily removing the braces, dropping them on the floor. As her pale skin was revealed, still slightly mottled by bruising and the impressions from the braces, he kissed it, sliding his lips over each bruise, her skin hot to the cool touch of his mouth.

  Slowly. Oh, ever so slowly, he worked his way up her legs, using just his mouth and his teeth. Her skin so soft and smooth he could touch her forever and still not get enough. Guttural little moans escaped her lips and her hands dug into the sheets, but she lay quiescent beneath him. It wouldn’t last; she didn’t do pliable for long. She liked, if not total control during sex, at least h
er moments of control. And he had absolutely no problem with that.

  As his mouth neared the neat triangle of auburn curls, a shudder ran through her and her breathing quickened to short, harsh pants. The simple pleasure of bringing her to the brink made his erection ache painfully. He breathed through the overpowering need to plunge into her soft, slick flesh. His hands spread her legs, careful not to put pressure on her knee, opening her to him; the sight of her nearly drove him over the abyss. He closed his eyes and plunged his tongue deep into the heat of her. A hoarse cry left her and her hips rose to meet his mouth, the sheet in her hands ripping as she fought for control. Control he wouldn’t allow her to keep.

  As the final shudders of her orgasm racked her body, he watched the effects of her pleasure mark her body. A fine sheen of sweat beaded her breasts and stomach, a rosy flush reddening her chest and neck, her eyes half-closed as the last vestiges of pleasure still rode her. One of her hands flashed upward towards his hair, but he caught her by the wrist before she touched him, a wrist so tiny that his thumb overlapped his forefinger. The bones so delicate, so fragile, he knew even a human man could snap them without much effort. Julius had to remind himself constantly of that reality, keep a leash on his movements and temper every touch. And yet she was so strong. So able, so capable. He knew he was one of the very few who would be allowed to wrap his large, dangerous hands around those delicate wrists, he knew it was an honour and the ultimate demonstration of her trust.

  She grumbled a little, trying to pull from his grasp, using a leg to draw his body towards hers. He released her with a smile. Tonight he would teach her patience; he wasn’t even halfway done with her yet.

  “Why was the City so plagued by Rogues and fighting Werewolves when my father and Byron started the SMV?” Gabi asked, when her breathing had finally returned to normal. They were lying entwined in a nest of torn sheets, her head on his chest as she traced patterns across the muscled ridges and dips of his torso. The topic was one that had been bugging her for days, after a passing comment a Shape-shifter had made. “The more I learn about Vampire society, the more that confuses me. Isn’t it the Master’s responsibility to keep order in their cities?”

  Julius didn’t answer immediately, but tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear as she tilted her face to study his expression.

  “It’s not quite that black and white,” he finally said. “There is no definitive rule book when it comes to how a Master manages their city and its inhabitants. Other than the overriding law of not drawing unwanted attention, Masters may, within reason, do as they please within their city. And, as with any group or race, there are those who either don’t care enough to keep on the correct side of the line or actually like to push the limits of the line, and see how far they can go before they get smacked back onto the right side.” He took her exploring hand and pressed a cool kiss to the back of her fingers. “My predecessor was of the former variety. He had…” Julius broke off and shifted uncomfortably. “He had unusual tastes.”

  Gabi raised an eyebrow.

  “In the bedroom.”

  “Ah.” Gabi was still confused, but at least now she understood Julius’s reticence. He was adventurous in bed, Gabi loved that about him, he took her out of her comfort zone to places she wanted to linger forever, but he was surprisingly prudish when it came to speaking about or discussing sex. She kept her expression neutral and gave him time to find appropriate phrases.

  “Once he was given his own city, he had more than enough time and resources to play out all his fantasies and sate all his fetishes. He became so preoccupied with satisfying his own needs that the actual running of the city eventually fell to his underlings, who weren’t powerful enough to maintain control. It didn’t take long before the Vampire grapevine spread the news that the City was easy pickings. The Solas Nomades who like to cause trouble or don’t like to conform and those addicted to adrenalin actively seek towns and cities without strong leadership.”

  He shrugged. “With such a large city they would’ve migrated here in droves. The Princeps would’ve tried to bring him in line; for that kind of transgression they would issue warnings first, giving the Master time to rectify the problems. Unfortunately for him he had lost the respect of his Clan by then, and the turmoil in the City was too great for a simpleton like him to turn around. Finally the Princeps removed him, and I was offered the City. It was a troubled place by then, attractive to Rogues, as you call them, of all varieties, and no one else wanted the assignment.” A slow grin spread across his face. “Luckily I was a desperate fool, who decided the risk would be worthwhile. And I was right.”

  His attempt at humour didn’t sway her from the issue that was niggling somewhere deep in her brain. The reasoning seemed so…so inane.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “So, my father died because your predecessor was a sexual pervert who was more interested in copulating than taking care of the City?”

  Julius’s fingers trailed down the back of her arm, offering quiet comfort. “No, my Lea,” he disagreed, “your father died because he couldn’t stand by and see innocents hurt. That kind of extreme altruism always finds a release. If he hadn’t been fighting supernatural creatures, he might have been running into burning buildings, or had himself deployed to one of the human wars around the world, or been smuggling medicine to refugees.” His fingers moved to trace lazy patterns over her bare shoulder. “That personality trait is immutable; nothing would’ve held him back from it, not Byron, not your mother, not even you.”

  Gabi was quiet as she considered his words; then she sighed hugely and turned her head slightly to touch her lips to the smooth skin of his chest. As much as she wanted to argue, she knew he was right, she knew that just as certainly as she knew she had that same trait. It needed a name, she decided, maybe the kamikaze gene.

  And suddenly she was tired; her father had died doing what he had to do, the why of it wouldn’t bring him back to her. She closed her eyes and for the first time in weeks just let it all go, forgot the world and everything in it, simply experiencing the moment and the man with his arms around her. In seconds sleep had claimed her for its own.

  Julius lay for a long time simply breathing in her scent and basking in the rare feeling of her unconscious serenity. After tonight there would be little chance of peaceful sleep.

  CHAPTER 2

  Razor, Gabi’s dog-sized tabby cat, wound between her legs as she made her way to her desk, coffee in one hand, chocolate croissant in the other, while a tiny squirrel attempted to nest in her hair. She grimaced; her desk could officially be declared a war zone. Her office was the only place her housekeeper, Rose, didn’t clean. Gabi held firm on that one; it was the only way she ever knew where anything was. She wasn’t what anyone would call a neat freak, but she always knew where something was when she needed it. Well, mostly. If Rose tidied up, Gabi would spend more time looking for stuff than she would working. Surveying the mess, she reminded herself that she really had to keep the office door closed in future.

  It looked as though two armies of garden gnomes had battled it out for hours in the midst of her paperwork and stationery. Recent spring rains had turned the garden into slush and Rocky the squirrel liked nothing better than to scamper outside as soon as the sun showed its face. What she forgot was to wipe her feet on the way back inside. Razor, being the attentive foster parent he was, would follow his charge outside, ostensibly to make sure Roman, the Rottweiler, didn’t do anything unpleasant to the tiny rodent. Apparently he too had forgotten to clean his feet before the two of them decided to play tag in her office.

  “I should use you two as cleaning rags,” she grumbled, shoving pens and muddied scraps of paper aside to make room for her coffee mug. Razor had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. Rocky showed absolutely no remorse whatsoever as she disentangled the tiny squirrel from her hair and set her on the ground next to Razor. In the greater scheme of things this mayhem was minor compared to the damage Razor could cause
if he was annoyed with her. He’d cost her several thousand in replacement furniture over the past couple of years. Luckily he’d calmed down a little in the last few months, possibly as a result of her taking him out with her on a regular basis. Or maybe even because she herself was calmer and more relaxed since being with Julius. She couldn’t be sure if it was simply that being in love had changed her or if it was that her body was getting the nourishment a Dhampir needed, but she suspected it was a combination of the two. Either way, she knew from personal experience that pets often picked up on their carer’s moods and had a tendency, much like children, to act out or shut down when their carers were unhappy or unsettled. Despite all the danger and craziness around her in recent months, she was happier in her own skin than she’d ever been in her life.

  She pressed the start button on her desktop and waited for it to power up. She had a tablet, but she found using the keyboard too finicky, so she still preferred to reply to emails and update her calendar on the ‘old clunker’. As it noisily came to life, she sorted through some of the scattered papers, rescuing some bills and invoices and tossing the unsalvageable bits into the bin. Her accountant was going to hate her more than usual this tax period.

  She swept a handful of paperclips, USB cables, pens and loose sticky notes into an already overflowing drawer as her email programme opened and thirty-seven messages began downloading. She ran her eyes over the usual assortment of spam, joke emails from Kyle, several requests for appointments to help with misbehaved pets and a couple from production assistants checking if she was free for movie work. Only one stood out as needing immediate attention.