by Jaime Rush
Except he wasn’t, because he launched at Greer again. Man and beast rolled, with Greer on top, then Ted. He managed to thrust out his hand, and Shea followed the direction in which he pointed. The umbrella lifted from the table, hovering before turning like a spear, the point aimed right at Greer’s hide. She pushed against it, letting the shovel drop to the patio deck with a clang as she put all of her focus on that deadly projectile.
The umbrella pulled free of her grip and shot toward Greer. She focused on him, pushing hard with her hands. He tumbled off Ted a second before the spear hit. It sank into Ted’s chest. With a sharp gasp, he looked down at the shaft coming out of his chest, and reached for the pole with trembling hands, gripping it. They fell limp to his sides, and he dropped to the ground. Blood poured from a gash in the side of his head. Scratches covered his arms, and his clothes were torn.
She staggered over, hardly able to breathe. Greer as panther stood nearby, studying the man for signs of life. His body was still taut, ready for another resurrection. The man had taken a shovel to the head, after all. She sank to her knees, because they wouldn’t hold her anymore, and with hands just as shaky, checked his pulse. She felt nothing.
She met Greer’s eyes, dark and inky, his mouth open as though he were panting. He morphed back to man.
“You pushed me, didn’t you?” he asked, touching the pole. “He’d thrown this thing at me, and you pushed me out of the way.”
She nodded.
He came over and helped her to her feet. “That was incredible. You saved my life.”
“Then we’re even.”
“You okay?” He smelled like smoke, and soot covered his face.
She shook her head. “That was my father. He said he had to kill me.”
He pulled her against him, rubbing her back. “You’re all right now.” He pressed his mouth on top of her head.
She felt so safe there against his big, hard body, wanting to climb inside him and forget everything that just happened.
No, you can’t do that.
She pushed back, looking at him. “There’s another one. Frost. He’s your birth father. He knows about you. The car parked on the street across from my house—that must have been them. So they saw Darius, too, since we left at the same time. They probably followed me to the fire house. I’m sorry. I exposed you to them.”
He brushed wild strands of hair from her face. “It’s not your fault. We have to get his body out of here before someone shows up. I know the owners aren’t home, but I hope no one else is in there.” He nodded to the back of the house, lots of windows and sliding glass doors all facing them. “There was no way I couldn’t Become and save you. Not only couldn’t I help myself, I couldn’t have reached you in time otherwise. I didn’t even consider someone seeing us back here.”
Just like Tuck had said when he went crazy seeing one of the men they’d fought grabbing Del. Darkness made them lose control. She tried not to think about the implications of that.
“No, everything’s done inside.” She scanned the yard, what had been so pretty and peaceful not long ago. “It’s ruined.”
“That’s the least of our problems.”
“I know.” She smoothed her hair back in a quick, nervous gesture. “I know, but it’s obvious a fight broke out here. Look, there’s blood and—” She turned away from the body, a cold chill shuddering through her.
“Give me your keys. I’ll back the truck up in the yard so I can put him in back. Sorry, Shea, but he won’t fit in mine.”
“No, it’s okay.” She walked robotically around the side, looking at all the new plants that would be crushed beneath her tires.
When they reached the truck, she clutched the keys in her hand. “I can do it.” She needed to be in control of something.
He got into the cab with her, and she backed up as carefully as she could. The man’s body lay in the sunshine, clear as could be in her rearview mirror.
This wasn’t happening. They were not going to be hiding a dead body. Her birth father.
No, she had to keep it together. She put the truck into park and he hopped out.
“I’ll take care of putting it in,” Greer said.
“I’ll help.” She didn’t want him protecting her.
He hefted the top part of the body and she grabbed the ankles. So heavy, even that part of him. Together they steered the body into the back. She covered it with the pile of empty bags and a few of the pallets.
“I don’t know where to get rid of a body.” She laughed, a sound that was suspiciously on the edge of hysterical. “Never had this problem before.”
“There’s a quarry not far from here, and a man-made lake where they dug out the dirt. If they’re closed, we’ll break in and weigh his body down, sink him to the bottom. I can do it, Shea.”
“Don’t. Don’t be all ‘I don’t want little ol’ you to have to deal with this.’ I’m strong, okay.”
He met her gaze. “I know you are.”
A light in the darkest of days.
“But will you let me drive?” he asked.
“Why?”
He nodded to her hands. “Because it’s going to be hard to drive with your hands shaking like that.”
Her whole body was shaking. She couldn’t make it stop. She could, at least, hold back the tears that wanted to burst out. She’d been calm during the altercation, but now she wanted to scream and cry.
“It’s just adrenaline,” he said, watching her. “My stomach’s all knotted up.” He glanced at the body. “I feel like I could puke about now. No big deal, but we can’t afford to attract the attention of a cop.”
She nodded. “Drive.”
He drove at a nice, normal pace. “You said a man named Frost is my father? So Tucker and I aren’t related then, because the guy they killed was definitely his father.” He gestured with his head to the bed of the truck. “This guy didn’t have Darkness, which makes sense since you don’t. Maybe this Frost guy was the one who attacked me today.”
“What?” Now that she had a few spare brain cells not frozen by adrenaline and fear, she had the wherewithal to wonder why Greer had gone to her job site.
“Someone with Darkness attacked me at the warehouse fire I was called to, which was probably set for that purpose. I never saw him, only his form as smoke.”
She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, God. But you’re okay?” She let her gaze survey him, thankful to see nothing obvious like a bone sticking out or blood flowing.
“I won’t know which bumps and bruises came from which altercation, but yeah, I’m all right.”
“How did you know I was in trouble?”
“I figured if I’d been targeted, there was a chance you were, too. On my way over, I had a feeling to get to you as fast as I could.” He glanced at her. “If you believe that sort of thing.”
“How can I not?”
“I’d better let the bonehead know what’s going on. With both of us being attacked, he could be a target, too.” He fished his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Darius, you at your shop? . . . Everything’s okay, then?” He told him what had happened, then glanced at her. “Yeah, she’s fine. Going back to her house is not a good idea for any of us. They picked up Shea there, and probably you, too. Be aware. We’ve got to dump this guy’s body . . . We’ve got it, thanks. We’ll catch up with you later. Don’t go to Tucker’s or meet with him, Del, or Cody. I want to keep them out of this. Talk later.” He disconnected. “He hasn’t seen anyone yet. He wants to hook up with us, but I’d rather keep him at a distance.”
“Agreed,” she said.
They drove in silence, out of town to Mills Road Quarry. Thankfully it was closed, no sign of recent activity. He broke the lock and drove in, pulling behind the mounds of rocky dirt.
He put the truck in park. “Wait here for a sec, let me check it out.”
She didn’t want to sit in the truck waiting by herself. She got out, giving him a pointed look, and stepped up beside him.
Weeds grew in the loose gravel, and wind had rounded the top of the mini-mountains. This place had been closed for a while.
They walked around to the back of the truck, uncovering the body. She looked at the man who had, as he’d put it, sired her.
“He said he was sorry, felt bad about having to kill me. I could see that he did, too. He’d just found out about me and wasn’t going to tell the others, but Frost recognized that I’m a . . . whatever it is that we are. So he had to kill me because their boss—leader, I think he said—knew about me. I begged.” She lifted her gaze to Greer, who was watching her. “I begged for my life, like a coward.”
“That’s not being a coward, Shea.”
She had denigrated herself for not fighting harder when the three men were raping her. She had begged then, too. But prevailing against three men—or one otherworldly man—was next to impossible. She could see that now. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They took up their earlier positions, Greer holding the man’s upper body, she gripping his legs, and they carried him to the edge of the big hole in the ground and set him down. The opaque green water would hide something that was only an inch beneath the surface.
“How did you know about this place being so perfect for hiding a body?”
He lifted a thick dark eyebrow. “Because of the last two bodies I dumped in here.”
“Seriously, Greer, this is not the time to kid.” She couldn’t take any more revelations. “You are kidding, right?”
“I am. I know about this place because some friends dared me to swim in it years ago. We broke in; the place was operating then.”
“And did you?”
“Yep. It felt good, actually, on a hot day.” He lowered his voice. “There’s nothing in there that’s scarier than me.”
“You are scary. That’s the first time I saw you fight in Darkness.”
He looked at her for a few seconds. “It’s probably better that we didn’t go any further with whatever it was that went on between us in that bathroom.”
She couldn’t take her eyes from him, the words not sending relief through her. Finally she forced herself to say, “Uh, yeah.”
“Because of what I am.” He shifted his gaze away. “We need to find something to weigh him down.”
They scouted around, Greer picking up a big rock.
“I’m not afraid of you. Of your beast, I mean.” Though she was, a little.
He didn’t look relieved either. “It’s not my beast that’s so troublesome, in and of itself. It’s the fiercely protective, insanely jealous part.”
She walked to the back of her truck and pulled out some twine. “Have you ever felt that way?”
“Never let myself get that close to any woman.”
“Is that why you’re a serial dater? You date a woman a couple of times, and we never see her again. You seem to have a good time with them, at least from what I’ve heard in your bedroom as I’ve passed by.” God, had she sounded wistful? Jealous? “I just figured you were a slut.”
He barked a laugh. “Good to know you have such a high opinion of me.” His expression sobered. “I don’t have much choice.”
Now he looked wistful. He took the roll of twine and headed back to Ted’s body. She picked up another rock, not as big as the one he’d set on the man’s chest, and brought that over while Greer tied it tight to his body. Once the rocks were secure, he rolled the body into the water.
“It drops straight down,” he said, watching bubbles rise to the surface.
“Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.” She walked to the driver’s side and got in. “I’m okay to drive now.”
“Where do you get your plants?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Go there and we’ll pick up whatever you need to replace what got ripped apart. We’ll replant them, fix the rocks.”
She could only stare at him. “Now?”
“How long do we have before the owners return?”
“Tomorrow.” She glanced behind them at the pit. “I’m having a hard time thinking about something so ordinary after what we just did.” They’d dumped a body. She’d murdered someone, inadvertently, and now they’d disposed of the body. Even though it was out of self-defense, the reality of it rocked through her like an earthquake.
“That’s over now. We fix your job because I know what a perfectionist you are. Be hard to work in the dark, so we’d better get moving.”
In the midst of all the horror she’d gone through, that he cared, knew her work ethic, warmed her completely. She could only nod past the lump in her throat.
Chapter Six
FORTY MINUTES LATER Shea had two trees, several plants, and a couple pairs of work gloves. They each carried a tree around the side to the back. She’d remembered all the plants she had to run over, so she set a tray of them around the side on the second trip.
They worked in the late afternoon sun, Greer using the same shovel she’d sent flying at Ted to dig out the damaged trees. He rubbed his arm over his forehead, wiping off the sweat. He still had dark smudges on his face. He’d come straight from fighting that fire—and the monster within it—to her.
He pulled off his shirt and flung it over the back of the patio chair. She felt a catch in her heart at the sight of him, wide chest and ridged abdomen, pure male perfection. Then she saw that his shoulder and side were bruised, red and purple blotches marring his olive skin.
“You’re hurt.”
He looked down, running his fingers over the bruised areas. “Not bad.”
“I can heal you.”
“No,” he said, almost too fast. “I can heal it myself, with Darkness, but it makes me weak. I can’t afford to do that for some bumps and bruises. And you can’t afford to take on the pain yourself. There’s another of those sons of a bitch out there. We have to be ready.”
He continued to tamp down the dirt around the newly planted blue Douglas fir with his boot. Though it was cool out, the sun was hot. She could see a bead of sweat trail down the curve of his pecs and over his stomach.
She forced herself to finish her plantings and clean up the stray stones. The scent of the earth was always comforting, and working with plants and rocks usually kept her focused. Not this time, however. She kept glancing up at Greer, now kneeling as he patted down the dirt around a fragrant verbena with his bare hands. The pink clustered flowers looked at odds with his masculinity.
They worked for another hour, and when she stood, her body aching, the yard looked just about perfect. Again. She smiled as she took it in: the cleaned patio, Greer watering the plants with a hose. He set the hose over the table and washed his hands in the stream, then splashed his face and upper body.
His back was scraped and the bruises were now a vivid purple. Someone had attacked him. He could have been killed. She might never have seen him again.
If it wasn’t for him, she’d be dead. She shivered at all those realizations. He looked her way, as though sensing her attention on him. She felt that spark again, like the one in the bathroom when all she should have felt was anger and humiliation.
“You okay?” he asked, flicking the water from his hands.
She nodded, shrugged. “Everything’s really hitting me now.”
He walked over to the spigot and turned it off, grabbing a towel and drying his face and chest. She took off her leather gloves and met him where they’d put their work tools.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
“No, it won’t. This Torus knows about me, that I’m a person of interest in Frankie’s mauling. That I’m half of whatever he is. The next guy they send to kill me won’t be sorry. Frost will try to kill you again.”
She focused on the hollow at the base of his throat, afraid to meet his eyes and see either sympathy or compassion there.
“We could leave, start over somewhere else.”
“We?” She met his gaze on that.
“All of us. Don’t worry, I’m not
asking you to run off with me alone.” Though he was smiling, she saw something deeper in his expression. Something that said he was.
That he would even suggest pulling up roots to leave town with her . . .
She reached out to his bruises and ran her fingers over them. They disappeared, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps instead. A dull pain throbbed through her, a small price to pay for what he’d done for her. She stood very close to him, feeling his body heat, smelling smoke, dirt, and his own scent. Her fingers trembled as she erased the scrapes on his back and arm. When she returned to the hard ridges of his stomach, she couldn’t pull away.
“Shea,” he whispered, something raw in that one word.
She fell against him, pressing her cheek against his cool damp chest, closing her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, because she wanted to be here and was so scared to be here, too. Her hands flattened against his lower back, holding her in place.
His hands brushed against her head, fingers sliding through the strands. Something unfurled inside her at his touch, at the feel of him like a rock solid wall of strength, and the memory of how he pulled her into his arms when she’d needed that strength most. She felt as though she were walking a tightrope as she turned her head so that her mouth brushed his skin.
She felt the war inside her, that self-protective part urging her to pull back, a long-buried part of her crying out to be released. He felt so good, his fingers sliding down her neck, and then he tilted her head and leaned down toward her. She saw the question in his eyes as his thumbs stroked her lips. Whatever he saw answered it. He leaned farther down and touched his mouth to hers. She had noticed his mouth before, lower lip full, and it felt warm and soft as it covered hers in a gentle kiss.
His hands slid down over her arms in long, slow strokes, sliding to her waist. She had a flashback of hands on her, holding her down. No, Greer’s not doing that. He’s not even touching you anywhere intimate.