The Thorndykes 1: Dispossessed
Page 10
He came in long spurts, streams of his semen releasing inside her. Thanks to their mental connection, she felt every convulsion, and she climaxed again in short, hard flutters, clutching his shoulders to prevent herself from collapsing against his chest.
They opened their eyes at the same moment, warmth and utter contentment radiating through them both.
She let out a deep breath. “That was wonderful.”
“Wasn’t it? We only have to practice a little more, and we might make it even better.” He chuckled and reached for the soap. “Now do you think we should get out of here, or pour some hot water in?”
She opted for rinsing and climbing out. The soft rug cushioned her feet from the promise of cold tile underfoot. Every sensation added to her memories. She wouldn’t forget any of this, wouldn’t allow herself to. He helped pat her dry, each touch a caress, so she leaned back into his arms and let him do what he wanted. Which seemed to be to treat her like porcelain. “Did you have many lovers?” She needed something to help create distance between them.
“Don’t ask,” he said.
“I’m asking.”
“Yes.” He kept his voice low and unchallenging. “Did you think I was celibate before I met you?”
She caught his thought before he thrust it deeper than she could reach. “Although sometimes it feels that way.”
“Really?”
“Every lover is new and different. Some are for friendship, some for solace, some for…other reasons.”
“Love?”
He paused in his movements. “It’s rare. Once, a long time ago. No rival to you.” He kissed her shoulder, warm and wet. “She’s long dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” His tone gained a tinge of melancholy, and she wished she hadn’t asked.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“That’s okay.” He turned her around. His eyes had grown cool, but his mind was filled with someone other than her. She hadn’t caused that chill—something she could be glad of. She’d hate that expression aimed at her. “You know little about me.” He huffed a laugh. “Maybe because there’s so much of it. You can’t help but gain a history.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, but he kept them away from her. “She was the reason I became a vampire.”
“You said it was boredom.”
“It’s what I tell everyone.” The corner of his mouth flickered in a dry smile. “Partly it was. The world seemed pointless without her. Typical youthful obsession, I’m afraid. The duel I was seconding? It was over her. Two of her suitors, one a vampire, fought over her. My vampire friend, my sire, chose pistols at dawn because it was fairer. He couldn’t call on his stronger side then, you see. Any vampires feeling their powers drain away at dawn don’t call on their mortal strength to replace it for a short time. He fought, he lost. And he bled to death.”
“So vampires can convert in the light?”
He shook his head. “Not usually. He hung on until nightfall, but he wanted to die. He’d had enough, he said, and her rejection proved the last act of his life. I spent that day tending to him, trying to persuade him to change his mind, but he was adamant.” He wrapped a towel around her hair. “I didn’t believe him, and I said yes to stop him becoming agitated. Then at sunset, he did the deed. I’d agreed, as far as he was concerned. I will always hold part of him inside me, and that’s my consolation, that he is there within me still. I did my best to honor him, but since he hadn’t led a particularly exemplary life, I didn’t lead one myself.”
He turned away and picked up a towel for himself. “It was long ago. The woman isn’t worth remembering, so I don’t use her name anymore. She led men on until they did something foolish, and she repeated it many times. Him, on the other hand, I honor for his strength and the way he unapologetically lived. His name was Mark, Lord French.”
She’d never heard of Lord French, but she’d remember it now. For Jay’s sake. “And you were James.”
When he faced her once more to her, his expression was lighter. “Yes, I was. We didn’t have as much choice for names then. We weren’t as well traveled or as inventive as people are today. James, Charles, William, Frederick, and lots of Georges.”
The coldness left his eyes, replaced by his usual wry humor. She was glad to see it. “We should go visit your brother. He’s awake—can’t you sense him?”
With a shock, she realized she hadn’t concentrated on Drew for the past half hour while Jay and she had made love and he’d talked to her. Now she stretched out her senses and found her brother awake. She didn’t speak to him, but he’d gotten a glimpse of her wrapped in towels, glowing with her recent exercise. She felt his warmth and withdrew hastily.
“We should dress.”
Jay followed her, chuckling. “Yes, we should.”
Ten minutes later, she went into the suite next door, nervousness filling her. She’d tied back her damp hair, flung on jeans and a T-shirt, but that hadn’t stopped Jay pausing to tell her she looked wonderful. She could at least scoff at him. “Are you the kind of man who says that whatever the woman is wearing?”
“Not at all. I saw you in evening wear, and I saw you naked. Different kinds of beauty. Now it’s different again. You’re a natural beauty.”
For sure he was flattering her. She’d looked into the mirror. Without makeup her skin was unnaturally pale, her lashes too light. Her hair, though, that didn’t need a great deal to make it flatter her. She had been known to brush it over one side of her face so everyone was looking at that, and not the rest of her.
But on the whole, not bad, she had to admit.
Too uncomfortable, she didn’t argue with him now. Although she’d had lovers before that her brother was aware of, she’d never— She was close to Jay in a way she had never allowed.
They didn’t have a chance, she told herself. She wouldn’t be able to keep him for long, but she’d enjoy the experience while she could.
With that thought to ground her, she faced Drew. He was sitting up in bed, and his lips quirked in a knowing grin as he caught her gaze. She didn’t look away, knowing a challenge when she saw one, but lifted her chin.
Jay dropped his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Anything to say?” He sounded cool once more as if waiting for the insults to rain down on her.
“He’s fine. He’s my brother, and he has rights other people don’t.”
“Nobody speaks to you disrespectfully.”
“Knight in shining armor?”
“Tarnished, but I still have some honor.”
Her smile turned genuine. “You’re better.”
“A bit weak,” Drew admitted. “That’s why I’m still in bed.”
The door opened to admit Nathan, who glanced at Jay and then Drew.
“You’ve eaten?” Lucille asked Drew.
“Slept, eaten, slept, eaten, bathed. Ate.”
Drew shot a poisonous glance at Nathan, who gave an unrepentant grin. “He behaved. I woke him every four hours to eat. He’ll live.”
Lucille swallowed, realizing all over again how close she’d come to losing her brother. “So what now? I’m going back to the bar tomorrow, but I’ve agreed to work nights.”
“Too soon,” Jay said with decision.
Nathan gave him a hard glare. “If we spook them, they’ll run.”
“Then we’ll have them when they break cover.”
Nathan made a sound of derision. “They’re better than that. I’ve been fighting these bastards for years. I know the way they operate.”
“I’m not ignorant of their ways,” Jay said, the old-fashioned twist to his words making him seem distantly arrogant.
That only made his compatriot laugh. “Not in the detail I have. The PHR has had a long time to practice what it does. They go away for training in basic methods, then go back where they come from. If we let them know we’re on to them, they’ll dig in and cease operations until they think they’re safe. We’ll never find them.”
&nbs
p; Jay swore. “You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair, disordering the slightly too-long strands. “In another day, Drew, you’ll be almost fully recovered, but I don’t want you going home.”
Drew glanced around the luxurious room. “Fine by me. Do you have a library?” Intelligence shone from his eyes, and Lucille felt proud of her brother. While he wasn’t perfect, still had fun, he also had a thirst for learning that she was thrilled to see in him. Who knew what he would achieve? And what she’d nearly lost? The only person in the world who understood her completely, who she could trust with her life.
Except the two men with them who smelled of danger. They had a ruthless edge she would never have. Never wanted. In many ways they remained enigmas.
Perhaps the feeding and fucking they’d done had led to their more profound connection. She didn’t know. She had no way of finding out.
“What happened to your parents?” Nathan asked suddenly.
She sighed. She guessed it was a natural thing to ask, considering the attack on her brother. Nothing she could do but tell them. “Dad said it happens sometimes. Because we live so much longer than mortals, a couple shouldn’t expect to spend the rest of their lives together. Mom just left. Without a word. Everybody was very sympathetic, but my father was heartbroken. He wandered around at a loose end; then he started to go into Houston to get drunk. During the day, of course—which the townsfolk here thought was scandalous—more than doing it at night. They shunned us for a while. Small-town mentality.”
“It happens in big cities too,” Nathan said calmly. Jay gave him a sharp look, but Nathan didn’t return it. He kept his attention on her.
“Then he disappeared. Just went. I thought he’d been moved on because he was getting indiscreet.”
She felt the tension in Jay’s body, heard him swallow as he prepared to tell them an unpalatable truth. “If the Thorndykes had moved him on, they wouldn’t have left you alone and vulnerable at such a young age.”
“You think…” She shook her head. “No, we’d have noticed something long before.” She flicked a glance at her brother.
“I always imagined he found somewhere he could lie down and just die. Like an elephant,” Drew said. “I found his diary.”
He hadn’t told her? “You never told me!” Anger and bewilderment filled her mind as she realized the one person she’d shared her life with for the past twenty years had kept something so important from her. “Why make two people unhappy? It was awful. Every day he said how much he missed Mom. They were soul mates, he said, and he wished they’d bonded.”
A slight tremor disturbed Jay’s hold on her, and immediately she pushed his hands away so she could turn and face him. Why had he shaken like that? “What’s wrong?”
“Bonding,” he admitted, not restraining his shudder. “I never want that. Two people becoming one. Never to have a private thought, to trust each other right down to the last atom. Talents already have more intimacy than mortals. I envy mortals their solitude, their undeveloped telepathy.”
“You don’t change, do you?” Nathan said, sounding amused. The notion had caused Jay enough stress that she wanted to punch Nathan for laughing at him. “Always alone.”
“I came close once. The biggest mistake of my life.”
“If that was your greatest mistake, then I pity you. You can always kill the person you’re bonded with. Usually when one dies, the other does, but if you’re strong enough, you can survive it.”
“I never heard of that happening.” Jay didn’t seem concerned, but she felt the shudder in the recesses of his mind, indicating that he’d cut off his thoughts.
“It’s rare. But like everything in this life, you should never discount the possibility of anything. Very few things come in pure black or pure white,” Jay said.
“Philosophical, are we?” Nathan strolled across to the bed and touched Drew’s wrist, testing his temperature. “I don’t think we need that now.”
Lucille wished she could eat and drink at night, but the only thing she could ingest right now was blood. Which reminded her. “Drew needs to feed.”
“He’s fed,” Nathan said lightly and glanced at Jay. “I hope you don’t object, but I used the woman who came to collect the empty plates. I took a mouthful and then handed her over to Drew. She won’t remember anything except the kiss I laid on her afterward. She thinks that’s why she left in a hurry. It’ll be enough to bring her back.” His arrogance at the assumption the woman would want more took Lucille’s breath away, but that was something he shared with Jay. Both had an unshakeable confidence, born of their lives, their strengths, but most of all, she guessed, from their natures. Aristocrats in their day, pampered and privileged. Had they ever lived normal lives, passed as normal people? She doubted it. Both had a charisma they’d find it hard to conceal.
“Okay, here’s the thing. You know I’m here chasing a PHR cell?”
Drew nodded, so Lucille guessed Jay had told him sometime during the day.
“We suspect the Wheelers.”
“What?” Lucille gaped. “Ryan’s a Wheeler. He’s been courting me for the last year.” The knowledge slowly penetrated her mind. “If he was one of them, don’t you think they’d have grabbed me before now?”
“She has a point.” Jay moved closer to her.
Nathan let out a deep breath. “Until recently he was in the army. We don’t think he’s involved in the cell. I tend to agree, but I’d like to get closer, to read him properly.”
Lucille could hardly believe it. She glanced at Drew and saw his eyes widen, sensed the incredulity in his mind. They’d grown up with the Wheelers. Big employers in Taken, they’d belonged to the community as long as anybody could remember. Although their ranch was primarily a guest ranch now like most in these parts, until lately it had reared cattle for the beef market. If anything the dude setup employed more people than the cattle concern had. The Wheelers were so entrenched in Taken. But Nathan was in complete earnest. One look at his flat mouth, the sincerity in his eyes told her. “What makes you think that?”
“I have a whole dossier on my computer. It’s open to you if you want to see it.”
HALF AN HOUR later, Lucille and Drew were convinced that Ryan wasn’t involved. He wasn’t in any of the surveillance pictures or the reports Nathan’s team had amassed.
“It’s my swan song with the Department,” Nathan said. “I want to take the bastards down. Then I’m moving on.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen enough, done enough. The Thorndykes are helping me, so I’ll help them. I came here to contact Jay and to get his assistance, but I’ve been thinking. I want to get inside that ranch, to identify precisely what’s going on there. And I want evidence. We have a bunch of reports, but everything so far is circumstantial. I want proof before we take the next step.” He took a pace, then turned back. “I have an idea. Tomorrow when Lucille goes to work, we’ll stage a little scene. The only people who saw me here saw what I wanted them to see. They don’t know me; I’m a stranger to them. We can use that.”
Nathan crossed to her, touched her cheek, his finger cool. She didn’t flinch away or move. Let him move first.
He smiled, gazing down at her almost sadly. “What if I kissed you? Would Jay object, do you think?”
“Try it and find out,” Jay said in a voice that offered no compromise.
Chapter Eight
The next night with Drew still at the ranch, Lucille opened the bar. Midweek rarely had much activity. Just the regulars—townsfolk having a quiet drink and maybe a light snack. They served lunches every day, but she’d handed that over to Joe, her short-order cook. They did particularly well on parade days.
God knew Taken had its fair share of parades. Founder’s Day, Labor Day, even Tractor Day, something the people of Taken had invented to fill a less than busy week. No parades today.
Jay waited with her, sitting in a dimly lit corner watching, a half-drunk beer in front of him. Not that he’d drunk the first
half. She’d just served it to him that way. Now and then he pretended to take a sip. If anyone noticed he wasn’t drinking, they didn’t comment.
On the stroke of seven forty-five, Ryan entered, dressed neatly in pressed shirt and chinos. He’d made an effort. He usually wore his neat and pressed jeans during the week. To make up for her treatment of him the last time, and because her conscience was niggling her, she gave him a warm smile and a beer on the house. He paid for it. “You got a living to make; you can’t go giving this away.”
“Thanks, Ryan.” She didn’t argue but put the money in the cash register. “How are you today?”
“Fine.” He frowned. “I don’t like you on nights. Where’s your other member of staff?”
“Here.” Missy emerged from the back where she’d been washing her hands and donning her apron. On a quiet night, they could handle everything they had to.
Missy gave Lucille a mighty wink. She hadn’t spotted Jay. He could appear almost invisible if he wanted to, shade his mind with “Don’t touch me; don’t look at me,” vibes. A neat trick. She’d get him to share how he did that. Ryan hadn’t seen him either.
“She’s in a great mood this evening,” Missy announced. “Those parties at the Trevino ranch are something else. You should’a gone, Ryan. Let your hair down.” She chuckled at her own joke.
Ryan wore his hair military short. Not surprising since he’d done some time with the marines while he was in the army. Instead of going to university, his father had sent him to see the world. He was back now, and except for the hair, didn’t seem any different. The army could change a man. It hadn’t changed constant Ryan.
“That’s gone.” Ryan gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Done. We’re not talking about that anymore. Lucille got her eyeful of how the other half live, and it ain’t pretty.”
“He was.” Missy glanced around the bar, and her gaze stuck on the man lazily watching them. She gave him a saucy smile. “Pretty, that is.”