Passion Bites: Biting Love, Book 9

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Passion Bites: Biting Love, Book 9 Page 17

by Mary Hughes


  “You were inexperienced,” Luke said. “There’s a difference.”

  “No. I was an emotional wreck, and it paralyzed me. He came to take her and I just stood there… Because I was a mess, like this.” I held out my hand, level. It was trembling. “I didn’t, couldn’t do anything, and he chivvied her out the door. Except right before he shut it, he gave me the most maleficent grin I’d ever seen and shot me the finger. I tried to go after them, after him because I felt like I was letting her go with the devil himself. But I took one step and my legs trembled and wouldn’t work. Because of the mess inside me, I couldn’t follow. Couldn’t do anything except let them go. Let her go, back to a life of abuse.” I covered my face with both hands.

  “Alexis…”

  “Lizelle left with him that day because these stupid emotions made me a hot mess. Because I knew what had to be done but instead of dealing with it rationally I let my feelings swamp me, incapacitate me.” I swallowed the truth, and it was hard. “She was right, I’m a glass monster. The only time I’m safe to be around is when the emotions are packed away.”

  “But you can’t control feelings, only actions. Feelings—they just are.”

  I raised my eyes to him and the sympathy in those hazel eyes was so strong I couldn’t live with the lie. “Then I should have acted. I was studying to be a doctor, for God’s sake. I knew about the cycle of abuse. I knew what to do. Why didn’t I tell her how worried I was, help her make a safety plan, encourage her to get into counseling, get him into counseling? I should have done so much more—”

  “No.” He grabbed my damp face with both hands. “Knowing what should happen isn’t the same as having the ability to make it happen. Are you a vampire? Can you compel a person with your voice? Mesmerize them to do anything you want?”

  “No, but—”

  “You couldn’t make her leave him until she was ready. Couldn’t make her stop loving him. Hell, even vampires can’t compel emotions, only actions.”

  I shook my head. “I still blame myself.”

  “You wouldn’t be who you are unless you did.” He kissed the tip of my nose and released my face.

  I took another deep breath. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

  He smiled gently—he knew why I’d asked—and picked up his pants.

  While he was distracted, or at least not looking at me with his too-knowing gaze, I finished it. “They didn’t have enough money, and he made her give up the child. Then there was a protracted cycle where he promised he’d change, they’d reconcile, and the renewed abuse would drive Lizelle away. During one of the reconciliations, her daughter Una was born. But when Lizelle left her husband this time, she said it was the last time.” I grabbed his hands; he’d mostly finished dressing, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I needed his touch. “And it was perfect, Luke. Perfect. Not only did I have plans in place to start a DV shelter and give her a home, but the best possible spot in the world for the shelter opened up. Those townhouses.” I squeezed his hands, trying to tell him without words how serious I was. How important this was. “Now she’s going back again? I can’t let her. I have to give her a place to be free of him. You can see how sneaky he is—I don’t know how he ended up at the party but here he was, right in place to take advantage of this situation. Well, it’s not happening again. I can’t, I won’t let anything stand in the way of my Grand Plan.”

  “Sweetheart. If she wants to go back, you can’t stop her—”

  “I have to try.” I swallowed. “Luke, he was getting increasingly abusive. If she goes back to him this time, I’m afraid he’ll kill her.”

  He studied my face, then nodded. “Okay. Elias doesn’t like our interfering in purely human affairs, but point out this husband to me. I’ll try voicing him to leave Lizelle alone. Get abuse counseling.”

  “No!” My shout hurt my already sore throat. “No,” I said more quietly. “No more changing plans, no more trying. When Lizelle changed colleges, that was the first warning. I tried to adapt. I tried. But that was wrong. What I should have done was insist we keep to the plan. Not to try, but to do. Not to feel, but to think.” I tried to pull my hands away.

  “Sometimes the plan doesn’t work.” His frown was underlined by his tightened clasp, not letting me escape. “Things change, situations change. People change. Alexis, I understand your desire to push the plan through, but—”

  “I’m going to work for Marrone.”

  His whole body seemed to freeze. Then he said, “Marrone isn’t the way. There’s going to be a hidden cost with him; there always is. A gotcha. Sometimes the best course of action is to change plans.”

  “Change plans? Change plans? That’s what I’m trying to tell you. A change of plans leads to disaster.”

  As if I’d cued it, on the word disaster, alarm bells started ringing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luke heard the alarm with his whole being. Those bells weren’t the smoke alarm or carbon monoxide detector. This shrill clang meant one thing.

  Vampire.

  They were being attacked. He reached for his mist…

  An almost physical tension reined him back. He felt as if a tether connected him here, to—to Alexis.

  Ridiculous. He reached for his mist again…and snapped solid. He could no more leave her open to danger than he could stop drinking blood.

  Fine. Made no sense, but vampire realities sometimes didn’t. He swept her up, both of them shoeless, and pounded up the stairs.

  The vampire mates, residents and party guests were crowded together in the back half of the anchor apartment’s living room, Bo and Elena and those who were able holding weapons, at the ready to defend them. The residents were already in one spot to be shielded—one thing this cursed party was good for.

  Julian and his lieutenants were driving rogues back out of the door. Luke set Alexis down behind Bo, gave her a brief, hard kiss, and went to join the fighting.

  “How’d Strongwell get the short straw?” Luke said to Julian between striking off vampire heads.

  “He’s designated spouse today. After last night’s near debacle with all of us arriving so late, we saw the need.”

  “The DS stays with the mates so the rest can mist into battle? Good idea.” The instinct to protect the household was strong, but Luke understood now how it paled compared to the imperative to protect a mate.

  Not that Alexis was his mate…

  His cock twitched, mocking him. Damned thing had a mind of its own. It nodded happily against his fly, forcing him to admit that maybe—just maybe—Alexis could have been his mate, if he’d been free to take one. She certainly had the stubborn will necessary to resist a vampire’s mental domination.

  But he had to remember Adelaide. What meaning would her life have had if he forgot her?

  And when had remembering her become his duty, his onus, rather than his privilege?

  Anger and frustration surged and crashed inside him and made him hack at vampires twice as hard. There were fewer this time, and they seemed less well-organized. The fight was soon over.

  “Bo, Thor.” Julian took charge after. “Stay with the humans until we can check the perimeter. Start talking to the non-householders about what they saw.” Code word for erasing. “Nikos, Reece, you’re on outside duty. Sweep and clean.” Code for scooping up stray vampire parts. “Steel, with me. We’ll scour the place for wandering guests.” He stalked toward the back hallway.

  Luke held up a hand. “Get started. I’ll be right there.” He had to check on his family first, on the twins…and on Alexis.

  He found himself at her side. His feelings around her were confused, but that didn’t stop him from kissing her deeply, like a promise. He raised his head, embarrassed. “I have to check on the children.”

  Her beautiful eyes opened. “Of course. You should have done that first. Go.”

  H
e smiled. “I don’t have to physically check. I can sense any donor within range.” The children weren’t donors—that was anathema and rightly forbidden, but the twins were his flesh and blood. He could sense them like he could his own brother. The loquacious Zinnia had donated on an occasion or two; he’d make sure she was safe upstairs as well.

  He closed his eyes and accessed his blood sense for Zinnia and her charges, waiting for the ping on his internal radar…yes, there was Zinnia…but no one else.

  Luke’s eyes snapped open, transformed instantly into the dangerous predator’s, vision red and ears pricked, his gums throbbing as his fangs sought to emerge.

  Nothing else was wrong, no sting of fear-sweat or adrenaline. But then, where were the children?

  He tried to mist upstairs but found himself turning to Alexis first. He was beginning to see how hard it was to tear himself away from her, especially with potential danger.

  But he was, first and foremost, a protector, trained by the biggest, baddest protector on the planet, and the twins were his family. He’d go to them, as soon as he explained to Alexis, wondering what words to use to make her understand quickly enough. “I have to—”

  “Go.” She pushed him. “Whatever is wrong, fix it.”

  He blinked. She was either incredibly perceptive or totally in sync with him, like a mate… The indicators were coming too thick and fast to ignore. His heart skipped a beat, then started pumping even stronger. He’d have to deal with the issue, but later. He delayed one moment more, to grab her by the shoulders and give her a quick, hard kiss, then released her. “Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  He misted upstairs, into what he recognized as a playroom. Zinnia, normally a perky, perfectly-put-together super mom, was quivering in one corner, spinning round and round.

  “They’re gone! I can’t believe he took them. He’s a hero. It’s inconceivable—”

  “Zinnia, slow down.” He caught her by the arm and led her to a chair where he crouched next to her, examining a bruise on her forehead. Nasty, but already healing, and more importantly, he could sense no corresponding damage inside the skull. “What happened?”

  “I was watching the children—I told Twyla to go enjoy some of the party. I knew you’d be up soon to help.”

  Luke winced.

  “Owun came in. Everyone told me how brave he was, rescuing that woman, and I felt flattered he’d join me. Thoughtful too. He’d brought a tray of soft drinks for everyone, and he and I chatted about the trials faced by our protector brethren—”

  “Today, Zinnia.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, the kids were bouncing off the walls, and he offered to take them to the park across the street. It was nice of him, but of course I knew Emersons and the rest of the parents wouldn’t like it if the kids were out after dusk without one of the Protectors of the Night—not even with a hero, not if he was human—” she caught Luke’s slight baring of fangs and rushed, “—but he was so nice and polite and then suddenly I was so tired and somehow I was nodding in agreement and then just nodding off. And then my head hit the table and the pain woke me, but the children are gone! He must have drugged me.” She clasped herself and moaned. “But he was a hero. A good guy.”

  “Everyone was fooled.” While she’d talked, Luke had already done another blood scent scan for the girls. Nothing, which was worrisome. How had Owun taken them beyond the range of his blood sense in such a short time? “I’ll track them. Don’t worry, Zinnia, I’ll find the kids. You go tell Julian what happened.

  “Of course, Mr. Steel.”

  He focused on the scent of Sarah Jane and Ellen Ripley, channeled the hunter inside him and leaped down the stairs.

  Strongwell called after him as he raced toward the back of the townhouse, but he’d caught the trail and time was of the essence. Zinnia would tell everyone what had happened. Emerson and Strongwell would follow and provide backup.

  Mist would’ve been faster, but without blood-scent/taste to locate the children, he’d need his tracking senses, eyes and ears and nose.

  He followed the trail on foot, running as close as he could get to top speed, dodging workers in the kitchen and leaping cars outside, digging his toes into sod to slingshot around trees through the park, chafing at even the few miles per hour he lost because of the obstacles. But falling or slamming into a car could potentially delay him more.

  The children’s scent led him through the local park and out again. As he ran he filtered the smell through his perception. Excited but not frightened—except for the boy Rorik. His scent was touched with a tang of caution. Good boy.

  On the other side of the park, the children’s trail led to and combined with the exhaust of a vehicle. Luke stopped, ice crowding his veins. They’d been taken in a car.

  That was a big problem. The sting of exhaust was strong and fresh starting out, but as the vehicle progressed, its signature would combine and blur with all the other traffic on the road. Unless there was a problem with the engine and it burned oil or leaked coolant, a car in the city soon became impossible to track.

  He turned circles, tasting the air for any unique scents.

  Sugar. Sweet cream overlaid the childish excitement and vehicle exhaust, and whiffs of mint, chocolate and strawberry. Not a car. An ice cream truck. A scent he could follow.

  Dieu merci.

  Luke drew the scent into his lungs and set off, pushing himself to his limit.

  As he ran, it struck him how much this was like the last attack, a vampire battle serving as distraction for a smaller, well-trained, cohesive group, there for one purpose—capture.

  And in this case the victims were children.

  Luke snarled, anger and fear clawing his gut as his feet ate up the city blocks. Worse, the first attack had primed the man Owun to be trusted. It smacked of advanced planning, and Luke had no idea who or why.

  The trail headed west.

  His bare feet began to sting. He ignored the pain, focusing all his senses. His eyes captured even the smallest movement. His ears sorted through city and animal noises and even the rustle of leaves to catch even the faintest clue.

  Just as the twins pinged on his internal radar and his heart eased with relief, he caught the distant but quite distinct sound of tires squealing on pavement in a quick getaway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  My stomach churned, waiting for Luke to return with news of what was wrong. Unaccustomed anxiety invaded my cells, an acid eating them until I wanted to claw off my own skin. All this feeling. I suddenly understood how some people got hooked on alcohol and other drugs, only wanting to make the itching burning wrongness go away.

  To keep myself from self-combusting in worry, I went to talk with Twyla, who was chatting with Nixie and Elena under Bo’s watchful eye.

  I’d reached them when a gust of wind blew down the stairs and out the back.

  Bo snapped out, “Steel? What’s—fuck. He’s gone.”

  That was when Zinnia stumbled downstairs, blurting about the missing children.

  All my worry combusted into pure fear. Brave wounded Sarah Jane. Stoic extraordinary Rorik. Precocious little Jaxxie.

  Bo closed his eyes as Luke had. They snapped open, gone blood red as Luke’s had too. “They’re out of range. Damn it!”

  “You can’t sense Rorik?” Elena’s voice was cop-steady, but a mother’s terror glistened in her eyes.

  “How is that possible?” Twyla’s fear echoed Elena’s.

  While they stood there, stunned, trying to absorb the situation, my training and sheer stubbornness took over, and I clamped down into Crisis Mode. “Zinnia. Tell us exactly what happened, as concisely as possible.”

  She seemed glad someone was telling her what to do and sketched in her story about Owun volunteering to take the kids to the park. She finished with, “And when Mr. Steel heard, he rushed to follow
the trail.”

  I forced a calming breath through my nose. I’d already seen how competent Luke was. I could take comfort in the fact that he’d find the children and save them, or die trying.

  Although the “die trying” wasn’t all that comforting.

  “Who is Owun?” I asked.

  “A new member of our household.” Nixie shook her head. “Ex-member. When Julian hears about this, he’ll be skull-breaking mad—at both the traitor and himself. Speaking of.”

  A column of misty gray swirled into being, collapsing in a crackling whisper into the black-haired lawyer. “What’s the commotion? A third attack?”

  “Owun,” Nixie said. “He…he…” Her face reddening, she couldn’t seem to get anything more out.

  I provided, “He took the children outside under suspicious circumstances.”

  As Bo had done, Julian closed his eyes. When they snapped open they were violet-red, and he snarled, “Damn.”

  “Steel is tracking them,” Bo said. “I was getting ready to follow.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Elena said. “I’ll call the cop shop on the way, have them ping me if a 911 comes through.”

  “I’ll tap Ms. Hinz and we’ll man the phones here.” Nixie spun on her heel and trotted out.

  “I’ll head for the hospital,” I said. “In case—” I barely stopped myself from saying in case the kids are hurt or worse. “In case there’s any movement there.”

  “Good idea,” Julian said. “Thank you for helping out.”

 

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