Burn: A shifter and vampire rock star romance (Underground Encounters Book 4)

by Lisa Carlisle

  I remembered how I’d intended to seduce him to trick him into letting me go. Had it worked, I might have still been on the run from Stefano, looking over my shoulder in fear of the inevitable moment that he caught me.

  Stefano would no longer be looking for me. He’d no longer be looking for anyone. A part of me felt ashamed. He had taken me in when I’d been a lost vampire. But, he also tried to kill me. If there was a choice between his immortal life and mine, well, I was happy with the outcome.

  “Would you like a beverage?” a flight attendant asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No, thank you.” Once he’d moved on, my thoughts returned to Devon. Had I made a mistake in leaving England?

  For what? You have no connections left there besides Devon. And he didn’t ask you to stay. You might as well return to your life as Angelica in Boston.

  Back with Joey.

  How would I explain all that had happened to Joey? No way was he going to listen to my requests to back off after I’d taken off without any explanation.

  After our phone call when he revealed his feelings for me, talking to him would be thorny. How did I feel about him? It was difficult to pinpoint. He was right; there was some sort of attraction between us. However, I wasn’t sure if it was as deep as he thought. Perhaps it was simply physical attraction. Curiosity.

  No, I cared for him. We were friends, after all. We’d spent so much time together in the band. And no matter how many times I told him to back off, it was nice to have someone in the world who cared about me.

  Whatever feelings I had for Joey were dwarfed by those of immense loss after leaving Devon in London. If we were never truly together, why did it feel like my heart was breaking?

  Either possibility was problematical—one was a shifter, the other a human. I was a vampire and lived by night. Perhaps I should look for an immortal to spend the rest of my time with. At least we’d avoid many of those complications.

  But for now, I couldn’t think of being with anyone else. I closed my eyes and thought about Devon’s lips on mine. As the miles increased between us, an ache grew. I hoped it would lessen as time passed.

  Devon

  While I was in the Forest of Dean, I had to meet with my family. Since my work often had me traveling, I didn’t see them as much as they’d like. But when we got together for family time in the forests, it was as if no time had ever passed at all.

  Most of my aunts and uncles and cousins lived nearby. They stayed near the forests where we’d grown up. My cottage wasn’t far from them. My parents lived in a little house in the town of Gloucester nearby, but still close enough to get into the forest. My two sisters, Jayne and Margaret, moved into Bristol for more of a city atmosphere, but still within a short drive of the forest and home.

  I was the only one who ventured out to spend much of my time in London, around two-and-a-half hours away when the traffic was light and did so for more business opportunities. My services would have a limited need in the forests, but in the underbelly of a city like London, business was good. I often traveled to other European capitals for clients, but England kept me well-fed and close to my family.

  Driving out to meet them, I plugged in my phone to play music. When Amy Winehouse’s Our Day Will Come came on, I listened for a minute before I had to turn it off. The last time I listened to her music was with Layla—and I didn’t need any reminders that she was gone—or any false hope that I’d ever see her again.

  The five of us in my family met in my cottage on Saturday morning for our monthly weekend retreat.

  “Devon, luv.” My mum grabbed both of my cheeks and kissed me. “You’ve been away far too long. You work too much, dear. You need to slow down. We missed you last month.”

  She hugged me as if she hadn’t seen me in two years, not two months.

  “I missed you too, Mum. But I couldn’t make it.”

  My father came to my rescue. “Leave him be, Emma.”

  After my mum released me, he hugged me in a more masculine way—a big embrace, a couple of pats on the back and then backing off.

  “Where are Jayne and Margaret?” I asked.

  “They’re already off in the forest.” He laughed at his description. “They said they needed to unwind after a long work week and they scampered off as foxes.”

  “And they didn’t even wait for me?” I asked in mock indignation.

  “They ran off in that direction,” my mum said.

  “Let’s meet them,” I said.

  “Go on, we’ll catch up,” my father replied.

  I removed my clothes in the cottage and headed outside where I shifted into a fox. Bounding in the direction that my sisters went, I soon caught their scent and followed. It led me to two foxes I recognized both by scent and markings. They were rolling around on the ground, wrestling each other playfully. They were so absorbed in their play, they didn’t hear me coming. I pounced on them.

  Devon! Jayne communicated telepathically. You scared the bloody hell out of me.

  Will you ever grow up and not sneak up on us? Jayne asked.

  Never. It’s too much fun, I answered.

  Jayne asked, Where’s Mum and Dad?

  They’re coming. You know how they like to take their time.

  What do you want to do first? Margaret asked.

  Hunt, both Jayne and I replied. Shifting burned a lot of calories and the urge to hunt often followed the transformation.

  My parents caught up several minutes later, and we headed deeper into the woods. In fox form, I craved rabbit, as my cravings often fit with the animal I’d become.

  We spent the afternoon in fox form. After the hunt, we ran and played. The burning off of excess energy helped me. I should visit more often. It even took my mind off Layla for a while.

  That evening, we sat around a campfire back in human form. Although catching up with my family was great, Layla crept back into my thoughts.

  What was she doing now?

  I even entertained wild thoughts of having her here in the forest with me now, introducing her to my family. She was a predator, too, she could hunt. The time I’d hunted deer with her, just a few days before those bloody vampires interfered, returned to mind. Even though the idea of a shapeshifter and vampire doing anything together seemed unnatural, it felt the opposite.

  My family wouldn’t react well if I told them she was a vampire. After Muriel’s death by one, we were all convinced they were evil, soulless, bloodsucking monsters.

  “All right, Devon?” my mum asked.

  “Fine, Mum.”

  “You seem awfully quiet. Even more so than usual.”

  “Probably a girl,” Margaret said.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” Jayne added. “Since when has he been into the same one for more than a few weeks?”

  This was true. I liked staying unencumbered, and the women I dated often grew too clingy for my taste. Before I could censor myself, I said, “This one’s different.”

  Jayne leaned closer. “Ooh, do tell.”

  “What’s to tell? It didn’t work out. She went back to America.”

  “An American?” Margaret said with mock horror. “What, are you daft?”

  If that was her reaction to another nationality, I wouldn’t dare mention Layla was a different species—especially which type.

  “You haven’t met her,” I said. “And she’d lived in England for a couple of years.”

  “I hope we rubbed off on her then. You know how I feel about Americans.”

  “Rubbish,” my dad said. “Just because you’ve disliked a few doesn’t mean the whole lot is spoiled.”

  “Maybe you should take a trip to America,” I added. “Might do you good to break some of your misconceptions.”

  Margaret made a face to indicate her distaste for that idea. “Let’s get back to the subject, shall we? If she lived in England for so long, why did she leave? Because of you?”

  “Ha ha. No, I didn’t scare her away.” I ran my hand o
ver my shaved head. “It’s complicated.”

  “Most people think things are more complicated than they actually are,” my mum said. “If you strip out all the distracting details and narrow the situation down to the essential parts, you might find a way to make things work.”

  Hmm. Layla was a vampire and I was a shifter. She lived in America and I lived in England. She hid from sunlight while I enjoyed venturing outdoors during the day. She sang for a rock band and traveled on the road with them in America. I was a bounty hunter who lived in, and generally worked in Europe. We met because she was a job I was hired to take on, and I’d brought her to a vampire who wanted to kill her. Even if I redeemed myself with her in the end, it wasn’t exactly the most romantic way to start a relationship.

  It wasn’t any way to start one.

  I didn’t see anything but complications to our situation, and no apparent way to fix them.

  The next morning, Jayne asked, “Who wants to fly?”

  We all loved to fly. I believe this made us superior to others, but my mother would smack me on the back of my head and bring me back to reality and say, “We are what we are. No better and no worse than anybody else.”

  Except maybe vampires.

  Since we chose to stay in England, the animal forms we took on were limited. Foxes were a good bet in these forests, although it was also dangerous as we had to watch for hunters. On family trips, we’d venture to more exotic locations where we could experiment.

  “Falcons,” I said.

  Jayne said, “You always say that.” Nevertheless, she was the first to change.

  We all followed suit and spent the morning flying in the forests. By high noon, we returned to my cottage and said goodbye. With them gone, an emptiness returned. Mostly when I thought of Layla out of my life.

  Joey

  Angelica called me from Logan Airport and said she was back in Boston.

  “Can I come over?” she asked.

  As if I’d say no. I paced my apartment waiting for her. What would I say? What happened to her?

  When she walked into my apartment, seeing her again after all this time was like being able to breathe again after being underwater for an extended period. All that pressure that seemed to crush my lungs was suddenly lifted. She was home and in front of me.

  Her image had been burned into my mind, but I studied every part of her again as if seeing her for the first time. Her hair was now a rich chestnut-brown, but the rest of her was how I remembered—delicate features, warm eyes the color of honey, and an unbelievable body. She was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and black riding boots.

  “Angelica!” I ran to her.

  “Joey.” She threw her arms around my neck.

  “You’re safe. You’re okay.” I breathed in her scent.

  “I am.”

  “What’s been going on?”

  She let out a sigh. “I just wanted to tell you in person that I’m okay.”

  “But what happened to you?”

  She turned her head. “There’s so much about me that you don’t know and you’re better off that way.”

  “You’re wrong. I want to know everything about you. You don’t have to keep anything from me.”

  “All you need to know is that I’m safe now.” She pulled her gaze back to me. “There was a misunderstanding and this guy was after me, but it’s over.”

  “What guy? Did he hurt you?” I clenched my hand into fists.

  “Calm down. It’s all been taken care of.” She raised her hand in a placating manner.

  “Taken care of? How? What happened? Was it that guy from the club?” I groaned as I pictured that asshole.

  “No.” Her face appeared pained. “Someone else. It’s not important. Let me get back to the story.”

  Not wanting to stop her from continuing, I forced my questions aside. “Go on.”

  “I was on the run over this misunderstanding, and I changed my identity. You were my lifeline, and I thank you so much for it. I could start over, be someone new.”

  The P.I. had told me that Angelica Blackwell was an alias. Well, at least I could now call him and end our arrangement. Angelica was back.

  “Who are you then?” I asked.

  “I’m still the same person. Just had a different name.” She smiled. “Not so much makeup.”

  She’d admitted she’d changed her identity, but many questions remained. “Why were you in danger? Who was after you?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’ve loved playing with you guys. It was one of the best experiences of my life. I’ll never forget my time with you, as short as it was.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re leaving us?”

  She raised her palms. “I don’t see what other option I have.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not on the run anymore.”

  I raised both hands as I tried to come to grips with what she was saying. “So, wait—you were just using us?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. You don’t understand. My life changed so radically a few years ago in ways that I can’t explain. And then when I had to run off, it changed again so much when I joined the band. I’m just trying to figure out who the hell I am.”

  “Do you want to leave Bloodlust Diamond?”

  She paused. “Not necessarily.”

  “Then don’t.” It was as simple as that, wasn’t it? We’d managed to cover for her while she was out. My voice was decent, but it wasn’t a role I wanted to take on, nor was I talented enough to do so long-term.

  “What about my whole trying to figure myself out thing?”

  “What about it? Why can’t you do it while you’re with us?”

  “Even with all my baggage?”

  “What baggage? You just bring a little carry-on compared to some of the nut jobs I’ve met in my life.” I grinned.

  She watched me and let out a soft sigh. “I don’t want to lead you on and have you think this is forever. Nor do I want things to get awkward between us.”

  I snorted. “What does that mean? I practically spilled my guts to you on the phone telling you how I cared about you.”

  She glanced at the floor. When she caught my eye again, she said, “I’m sorry, Joey. I care about you—but not in a romantic way. If you’re asking if there can be anything more between us, there can’t.”

  Damn it. Why was she doing this? “All that stuff onstage—all that chemistry—you’re telling me it was fake?”

  She rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. Yes, I guess so. We went into it as a gimmick. Maybe parts of it felt real sometimes when we got into it, but it was just fantasy. It’s not real.”

  “You’re wrong. There was something to it.”

  She shook her head. “We were characters on a stage, actors playing a part.”

  “Maybe initially. But I know there’s something more there. Something between us.” I motioned between us to punctuate my point. “Even if you deny your feelings, I know.”

  If she didn’t see it, I’d show her. I closed the space between us and put my hands on either side of her head, so she’d look up at me.

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes and her pupils dilated. My gaze lowered to her lips. They’d parted.

  When I bent closer to her face, she didn’t pull away. I kissed her. I’d make her see that all that chemistry onstage wasn’t just staged.

  Some sort of whimper escaped her. She pushed at my chest gently, but then pulled my shirt, bringing me closer to her again. She kissed me back, proving she had more feelings that she’d admitted.

  She pulled away and stepped back. “No, Joey. This is wrong. I don’t want it. I don’t feel for you the way I do for—someone else.”

  My heartbeat raced. “Who?”

  “Does it matter?”

  I thought about it. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

  She stared at me with a guilty look, spelling it out.

  “That guy from the club last weekend? The one I warned you about?”

&n
bsp; No, please say it wasn’t him. Maybe because all the focus we placed on finding this guy to lead us to Angelica made me cringe about her having feelings for him. Anyone but him.

  “Angelica, are you crazy? Did he take you that night? Force you on the run? Have you been with him all this time?”

  “Joey, I’m not going to tell you anything else. This is personal. You deserve someone better than me. A nice, normal girl without so many—complications.”

  I stormed through my living room. That guy. She was into that guy. “Have I been a fool this whole time? I thought there was something between us. I felt something in that kiss. Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know.” She threw her hands up and dropped them. “Sure, there was something there. Interest, maybe. Attraction. But nothing deeper. You can’t honestly tell me that what you feel is more than an infatuation. You can’t say it’s love.”

  I thought about that. Love was monumental. Did I love her?

  I cared about her, sure. I was crazy attracted to her and wanted to sleep with her. But love? As in I’d do anything for you, and I only want to be with you kind of love?

  “I care about you,” I finally admitted.

  “But it’s not love. At least not that kind of love.”

  “Do you love him?” I asked.

  She bit her lip. “I’m not sure.”

  “Why him, Angelica? You just met him.”

  Her brows furrowed. “I can’t explain it. It just feels—right.”

  Layla

  After I left Joey’s, I was more distraught. I stalked through the busy streets, trying to lose myself in the bustle of activity—the city lights, the traffic, and the din of conversations of those passing by. The ache for Devon had turned into a fierce longing and needed some sort of distraction.

  When Joey kissed me, I’d responded. He was right, the underlying attraction between us wasn’t all for show. There was a reason why women threw themselves at him at our shows. He looked like a bona fide rock star, with wild brown hair and a dark sensuality oozing from his eyes. What woman could resist a hot guitarist?