Rogue the Redeemer

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Rogue the Redeemer Page 6

by Rhiannon Neeley


  “Damn, woman, I love that mouth of yours,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She reached up and cupped his balls, rolling them in her hand.

  Rogue sucked in a hissing breath. His come pulsed up hot and wild through his dick, a burning flame bursting into her loving mouth. “Argh!” he cried, his vision going dark, sparks flashing in the black as the orgasm rolled over him like a steamroller. Kaitlyn made wet, sucking sounds, mewls of contentment floating up to his ears as her tongue lavished him until there was no more of his seed left.

  Rogue moved her gently away, disengaging himself from her feast. “Baby … I gotta sit down.”

  She pulled away, kneeling back.

  Rogue collapsed onto the couch, his legs feeling like water. “I am,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “completely worn ragged.”

  Kaitlyn crawled up beside him and tenderly kissed his forehead. “Thank you,” she said.

  He patted her leg. “You are more than welcome. Believe me.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned. “You are one hungry little bird, aren’t you?”

  Kaitlyn tilted her head, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Are you complaining?”

  “Good Lord, no,” he laughed. He pulled her into his arms.

  “Do you think that we can figure out a way out of this mess?” she asked, resting her head against his chest.

  Rogue sobered. Reality came crashing down on him. “We’ll think of something.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “It’s almost morning,” he said. “I’d better get going.”

  “Can’t you stay?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not yet.” He sat up, releasing her from his hold. “Listen, don’t go in to work tomorrow,” he said, getting up from the couch. “I mean tonight. Call in and tell them you have the flu or something.” He reached for his pants, which had somehow ended up beneath the coffee table.

  “How am I supposed to do any testing?” she asked, tugging her robe back into place. “I need to isolate the virus in my blood.”

  Rogue gave her a stern look. “If you get caught stealing pints of blood, none of it will matter.”

  “I’m not going to get caught.” Her chin lifted defiantly.

  “Every thief gets caught, sooner or later.” He knelt in front of her. “They will put you in jail. You won’t be able to hide from the sun.” He took her hand in his. “Don’t make me lose you just when I’ve found you.”

  She searched his face. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay here. But I’ll have to feed. I can’t make it if I don’t have something.”

  Rogue tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll never let you go hungry, baby. You can count on that.”

  Chapter Five

  Kaitlyn watched Rogue through the living room window as he backed out of her driveway. The headlights of his car flashed over the glass then swung away, spearing the darkness as he disappeared around the corner. She let the curtain drop back into place.

  Feeling a mix of emotion, she wrapped her arms around herself and padded into the kitchen. The house was quiet, the only noise the whir of the refrigerator as the motor kicked in. She moved to the sink and gazed through the window above it. The backyard was dark, no streetlights washing it in security.

  Like my life, she thought, biting her lip. Her life was swathed in darkness but now she had hope. Rogue had brought a flicker of light—of life—into her existence. True, he claimed he was one of her kind but now, even if she didn’t find a cure for this strange malady she suffered from, she knew that she would no longer feel alone. Rogue had entered her life and had quickly embedded himself in her heart. He was not a wicked monster—not like Nicolas. No, Rogue was caring and funny and sexy as all get out. And he had promised to help her.

  Already Kaitlyn felt a closeness to him that she had never felt with anyone before. It scared her but at the same time, made her feel comforted and slightly giddy.

  “And damn is he one hell of a lover,” she said out loud. She shivered, remembering the heat of his touch, the taste of him.

  The first birds of the morning began to wake. Their tentative chirps pulled Kaitlyn back into the here and now. The sun was coming up. Time for her to retire.

  With a lighter heart, Kaitlyn made her way upstairs to her bedroom—her fortress against the sun. She entered, closing the door behind her. Anticipation of the coming of night skittered through her belly as she tossed her robe on the floor and crawled between the sheets of her bed. His scent was still there, clinging seductively to the bedcovers, the pillows. Cuddling one pillow close to her, for the first time since returning from New York, there was a smile on Kaitlyn’s face when she closed her eyes.

  Sleep claimed her quickly but for the second day in a row, Kaitlyn dreamed. She dreamed of a man whose eyes held the ocean’s blue and his golden hair more striking than the rays of sun that she so missed.

  But there was a hint of foreboding on the edges of her dream. Deep in the shadowy recesses, someone lurked. Kaitlyn strained to make out his features. There was something ominous about his presence, there in the corners of her mind. She couldn’t see his face. Didn’t recognize his build. He was tall and imposing. A feeling of dread passed through her. The only thing she could make out about him was his long, raven-black hair.

  * * * *

  Rogue was bone-tired.

  He drove through the quiet pre-dawn streets, the taste of Kaitlyn still on his lips.

  For once in his life, he didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t feel like the wild-child he normally was.

  He felt like a man.

  A man with a responsibility he wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

  The sun was beginning to break, the sky in his rearview mirror lightening at the edge of the horizon. Kaitlyn was probably asleep—alone and dead to the world.

  Rogue pulled the growling ‘Vette into the parking place in front of his hotel room. He killed the motor. Instead of getting out, he rested his head against the seat.

  “How in the hell am I going to keep John off Kaitlyn’s tail?” he asked himself. John Raven was like a coondog running a scent when it came to tracking vampires. That’s why John was the head of the Clan—the Unkindness of Ravens.

  When they had brought Rogue into the world of vampire hunting, he had been amazed and excited to learn the story behind John Raven and his family of vampire hunters.

  As soon as Rogue had settled in at Ravencrest, John had taken him aside and asked if he would like to join their war against the Horde of vampires. Rogue jumped at the chance. He saw the Ravens as almost superheroes.

  A few nights later, all of the men assembled and they told him the story of the clash between Ravens and the Horde.

  Centuries ago, a vampire had taken a young girl, one of the Raven family. The vampire turned her, making her into a monster. The Raven Clan had to destroy her, even though it broke their hearts to do it. Then they had sworn an oath of vengeance and the Unkindness had been formed.

  Rogue closed his eyes, remembering the seriousness of the meeting…

  They had all assembled in the massive main living room of Ravencrest.

  John sat in a large, wingback chair, his hands resting on the arms, one leg crossed casually over the other. But there was nothing casual about his expression. “You do realize how important this is, Rogue. Not just to us.” He waved one hand to encompass the assemblage, his silver armor ring that he wore on his little finger flashing in the light. “It’s important to all humans.”

  Rogue met John’s pitch black eyes steadily from his place leaning back against a large bookcase. “I don’t think it’s a video game, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s definitely what I mean—this is not a game. This is life and death.” John cocked his head. “Your name … suits you, I’m told.”

  Rogue tipped his head and grinned. “I guess you could say that. I’ve been known to be a rogue. Just ask Aunt Grace.”

  Drake, who was sittin
g on one of the couches with his brother Holt, let out a snort. “Grace says she wonders how he ever lived past twenty-one.”

  John shot Drake a look. Drake raised his hands, palms up.

  “I may act up sometimes,” Rogue said, drawing John’s attention back to him, “but you can count on me. I want to do this. I want to learn.” He pushed off the bookshelf and shrugged his shoulders. “One of them killed my grandfather. I want vengeance of my own. This is my feud too. After all, my middle name is Raven. That has to mean something.”

  “You could die … or worse.” John shifted in the chair. He rested his chin in his hand, elbow parked on the arm of the chair. “Are you ready to lay your life and your soul on the line?”

  Rogue looked at the faces of the men in the room. He’d heard stories about each of them.

  Eric Raven stood by the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest. The resemblance to his brother John was evident in the dark eyes, the coal black hair. Eric had tangled with the vampire Anthony Barack in the Maine woods. Barack could shift into the form of a wolf. And he had two female members who could do the same in his Clutch of vampires. Barack had wanted Lydia, Eric’s love, for his own. Though Eric had kept Barack from taking Lydia, he had suffered the vicious bite of the vampire. He had needed a transfusion.

  Dirk Raven sat on the other couch, his dark raven hair straying across his eyes. Dirk’s eyes were different from the others. They were ice blue and piercing. Dirk had been to Roan County, Rogue had learned, and had rescued his woman, Casey, from a Clutch of vampires that had taken up residence in the old coal mine. The battle had been fierce, Dirk and Casey both almost succumbing to the lure of eternal life. Both had been rushed back to Ravencrest in dire need of treatment.

  Then there was Drake. So like Rogue himself, Drake’s mouth often got him into trouble. But that’s not how Drake had gotten himself thrown in jail by Grace. Drake had come to Roan County to help with Dirk’s mission. He returned there only because he wanted to get to know Grace. What he didn’t know was that bodies—unlike any seen before—had been found and Drake quickly became a murder suspect. Rogue thanked God for Drake. If it hadn’t been for him, his Aunt Grace would have become a meal for a vampire.

  Colin Moore sat beside Dirk, looking as out of place in the room full of dark avengers as Rogue did. Colin wasn’t a Raven by blood. Rogue had met Colin when he had come to Roan County to get Drake out of jail. Colin had then joined the quest to destroy the vampires. Colin had been enlisted as a hunter due to the fact that the Raven Clan’s numbers were dwindling. Being the legal representative for the Unkindness for years, Colin was trusted with their secrets and though he was not blood relation, he was in training to become a true hunter.

  And then there was Holt. A silent mountain of a man, Holt Raven was Drake’s brother. The two of them were close cousins to the other three. Rogue knew that Holt was training Colin and if they accepted Rogue into the Unkindness, Holt would train him too. Rogue was still unsure of him. One thing about Holt that was obvious though was the fact that he was big enough and mean looking enough to make any normal man cross the street to avoid him.

  Rogue took them all in, knowing that they had a family stake in this feud. But then, since the loss of his grandfather, so did he.

  He took a step forward. “I’d lay down my life for any one of you,” Rogue said. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

  “You won’t allow a vampire to exist?” John asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “No. Never.”

  …And Rogue had meant it when he had said he wouldn’t allow a vampire to exist.

  Now things had changed. And involved his heart.

  A loud rap beside his ear made him jerk in his seat. He looked to the driver’s side window. John stood, looking down at him through the glass.

  Rogue sighed and extracted himself from the hug of the ‘Vette’s driver seat. “What the hell?” he said, closing the car door. “You trying to give me a heart attack?” He squinted, the daylight brighter now than when he had drifted off into his memory.

  “What are you doing just sitting in the car?” John asked. He lit a cigarette.

  A woman came out of her room two doors down and started to walk to her car. When she saw Rogue and John, she hesitated.

  Rogue caught her look. It wasn’t one of fear. He grinned and waved.

  The woman smiled brightly and waved back.

  John looked over his shoulder, then back at Rogue. “We’ve got a job to do, remember?”

  Rogue looked at him. “What?”

  John shook his head. His hair shone blue-black in the brightening sun. “Come on inside. We need to talk.” He turned and started walking to his own room, tossing the cigarette butt with a flick of his fingers.

  Rogue’s smile faded. “Shit,” he said.

  * * * *

  John waited until Rogue had seated himself at the small table before he handed him the printout.

  “What’s this?” Rogue asked, looking at the paper.

  John sat down on the edge of the bed. “In a minute,” he said, noticing the slight tremor in Rogue’s hand holding the piece of paper. “Are you feeling alright?”

  Rogue looked up. “Yeah. Why?”

  John nodded at his hand. “You’re shaking.”

  Rogue looked down at his hand, then dropped the paper onto the tabletop. Something passed over Rogue’s face, almost a look of impatience, but it was gone in an instant. Propping his elbow on the table, he rested his head in his hand. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “That why you were dozing in the car?”

  “I wasn’t—never mind.” Rogue sighed. “So what it this?” he asked, waving his hand at the abandoned paper.

  John noticed the tired lines around Rogue’s eyes. It concerned him. Rogue was used to staying up all hours. He was young, healthy and energetic. Working at the hospital should not have had this effect on him.

  “That is a patient list,” John said, deciding—for the moment—not to question Rogue further about his sudden lack of spark. “Each name on there has been a patient in the hospital continuously since the blood started disappearing.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Rogue asked, frowning.

  John mirrored his frown. “Those are leads. The thefts may have some connection to one of the patients.”

  Rogue shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “What doesn’t?” John watched Rogue intently. He wasn’t being his normal self. The Rogue sitting in the chair in front of him wore a hard look on his face. He seemed tired and aggravated. Different.

  “Number one,” Rogue said, raising his index finger, “with the new privacy laws, how can you be sure this list is accurate? There may be some patients not listed on here because they asked that the hospital not reveal their names. Number two—,” he raised a second finger, “—don’t you think if it was one of the patients, the hospital would have been in an uproar?”

  “Why an uproar?” John didn’t quite get him there.

  Rogue frowned, and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “If a patient checked in the hospital—for any reason—they would have to be checked over by someone, right? A nurse, doctor—whatever.”

  John nodded. “Of course.”

  “Well don’t you think that the first time someone listened for a heartbeat and there was none, they would be a little confused about why someone with a dead heart could still be alive?”

  John stood and lit a cigarette. He drew deep, savoring the tinge of menthol for a moment before he spoke. “I don’t think one of the patients is the vampire. Of course the hospital would have caught on if they had a walking, talking dead person.” John took another draw from the cigarette then flicked ashes in the ashtray. He was trying to stay calm. He did not want to argue with Rogue but Rogue seemed to be fighting him on this assignment. “What I’m wondering is this—could one of the patients possibly be stealing the blood for a vampire?” John pinned him with a look. “Savvy?


  Rogue sighed and sat back in his chair. “Okay. I got ‘cha. That’s a thought.”

  “Unless you have any new information for me, I think that may be our next plan of attack. Check out the patients and who they’re connected with.” John stubbed out his cigarette. Rogue was staring off into nowhere.

  “Do you have any information? Any leads at all?” John asked.

  “Huh?” Rogue blinked. “No. Nothing.” His wise-ass grin returned. “Lot of pretty women though.”

  John smiled. Maybe that’s why Rogue was so tired. “Don’t get side-tracked, boy. I want this wrapped up within the next few days. It shouldn’t be that hard to track down one vampire. I’m surprised that you haven’t picked up on something yet.”

  *

  Rogue looked up at John and steeled himself for something he didn’t want to do. “I haven’t got one hint about who the vampire is,” he lied. The words had almost caught in his throat but until he had time to figure out what to do to keep Kaitlyn alive, he couldn’t tell John about her. And that pained him.

  He stood and stretched his arms above his head. “How are we going to go about checking the patients?” Rogue asked, trying to get John on a different subject.

  John nodded at the list. “You take that list with you to work tonight. By the way, the list is accurate. The Chief of Police made sure of it. The privacy act doesn’t cover them for investigation issues.

  “The room numbers are on the list. I want you to try to watch those rooms tonight, as many as you can anyway.”

  Rogue picked up the list. There were seven names. “Only seven.”

  “Seven is more that I hoped for. It will be hard to keep an eye on that many rooms and not miss something.”

  Rogue thought for a moment. “Doesn’t someone watch where they store the blood?” he asked. He knew he was going out on a limb. Posting a guard where the blood was kept would put a kink in Rogue’s own plan but it was such an obvious thing to do that he had to mention it.

 

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