Through a haze of pain, Adrian watched Septimus climb into the back, take off his coat, and fastidiously lay it aside. The man wore black leather gloves, beautifully supple as they raked through Adrian’s hair. Septimus gently tilted Adrian’s head to one side, exposing his neck, and traced his jugular with a leather-clad fingertip. He leaned down and licked Adrian’s neck, his mouth warm.
Adrian felt the sharp bite of fangs, first just breaking the skin and then plunging deep. Septimus began suckling, slowly at first, then faster, then with thrusts and pulls of his lips and tongue. He drank still more, with true vampire thirst, as though he’d starved himself to better enjoy this pleasure. His lips were hot, his tongue on Adrian’s throat like a lover’s.
Adrian by this time was too weak to fight him, or even to scream. He lay limply on the bottom of the vehicle’s bed, while an Old One vampire, his ancient enemy, lay on him, holding him and feasting on the lifeblood of an Immortal.
* * *
“A dragon wid a cold,” Valerian snuffled. He buried his nose in a pile of tissues and made a noise like a spouting whale. “How stupid is dat?”
Amber ignored him. She’d taken Ferrin out of her pocket and now the snake lay in a loose coil, looking depressed. Filmy white lids covered his eyes, and he didn’t move.
“Where is he?” she asked the snake. “Find Adrian, Ferrin. Please.”
“He’s not Lassie,” Valerian said, wiping his eyes. “He doedn’t fetch.”
“I know. But I hoped he’d have some clue.”
“I hope he cad survive widout Adrian,” Valerian said. His nose was red, his overly blue eyes luminous and wet. “He’s a bagical being and shares Adrian’s bagic.” He sniffled.
“What happens if you turn into a dragon when you have a cold?” Amber asked him.
Valerian shook his head. “It’s not preddy.”
Amber turned away and rummaged through her bag of magic accoutrements. She had enough charged crystals left for a location spell—that is, once she gained back enough energy to perform it, but she wasn’t hopeful.
Detective Simon, who’d arrived by helicopter a few hours after she and Valerian had reached Alaska, told her he’d put out an alert for Adrian, but he didn’t seem optimistic about it. Simon was now out talking to the local police and the park rangers, to see what information they had, if any. Before leaving, he’d ordered a pizza and made Amber eat half of it, though she’d had to choke it down.
Now Amber sat listlessly in the motel room, watching Valerian and Ferrin, hating to wait for news.
When someone knocked on the door, she all but tore across the room to answer it. Valerian was halfway out of bed, his hand on a long knife he kept by his bedside, but Amber threw open the door without waiting. She hadn’t felt any evil taint of death magic from outside, and it was broad daylight, too bright for vampires.
The woman who stood on the doorstep was supernatural, but werewolf, not vampire. Amber grabbed her and hauled her into the room before throwing her arms around her. “What are you doing here?”
Sabina returned Amber’s hug then looked at Valerian who’d collapsed into the bed, pulling the covers back over his broad chest.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sabina demanded.
“I’b sick. Frob rescuing Amber.” Valerian seized a handful of tissues from the dwindling box beside the bed. “Close de door. Der’s a draft.”
Amber shut the door and locked it. She told Valerian, “You didn’t have to risk freezing to fly to me yourself. Septimus sent a plane.”
“No way I was ledding you on a plane full of bamps alone. Adrian wud kill mbe. Besides, I had to drag you out of dat cave.”
“Well, now there’s a problem with Septimus.” Sabina plopped herself on Amber’s bed, her blond hair haloing her face. “He’s vanished, and Kelly’s very upset. She thinks Septimus has betrayed Adrian to the demon.”
Amber’s heart beat faster. “Why does she think that?”
“She came over with her cook, both of them very worried. Kelly had sex with him—with Septimus, not the cook—and she overheard a phone call when Septimus thought she was still asleep. Manny found Kelly this morning wandering around her house wondering what to do, and made her come over to Adrian’s and tell me what was going on. Detective Simon had already headed out to come up here and start looking for you, I couldn’t get a hold of anyone, so I decided to come myself.”
Amber sat on the edge of the empty bed, feeling numb. “Septimus sent a plane to rescue us. Kelly might have heard him making those arrangements.”
“She did,” Sabina said. “When he took that phone call, she was awake and sitting next to him. But a few hours later, she heard Septimus in her living room on the phone again, arguing with someone like he was afraid, which surprised her, because who is big and bad enough to scare someone like Septimus? Then she heard him arranging someone to get him to, she thinks, Montana. She stayed still, pretending to be asleep, terrified what he’d do if he thought she’d heard. He left her house without coming back into the bedroom, and she hasn’t seen him since.”
“Bastard,” Valerian said from behind his tissues. “I nebber liked himb.”
Amber balled her fists. “Why didn’t Kelly come to you right away? Why did Manny have to drag her over the next morning?”
Sabina gave her a grave look. “I think Septimus made Kelly his blood slave. I know she let him bite her, anyway. She wore a scarf, but it slipped, and I saw the marks.”
“What wad she thinkig?” Valerian asked. “She already escabed one bampire, and only wid Adrian’s helb.”
“Well, Septimus is pretty sexy, for a vampire,” Sabina said.
Valerian snorted. “Oh, blease. He’s oberdressed and ober-combensanting for a small benis.”
“Better than a dragon with a runny nose,” Sabina shot back.
Valerian started to retort then grimaced and bellowed out a sneeze that shook the tiny room.
Amber tried to shut them out and think. If Septimus had betrayed them, then they had one more powerful creature out there to contend with. But again, Septimus could be deep in many plots of his own, and what he was doing in Montana might have nothing to do with Adrian.
There was another bad possibility—if Septimus had made Kelly his blood slave, she might be feeding them false information. Amber rubbed her temples, her head throbbing. She knew she could walk away from all this, return to Seattle and try to go on with her life. Go back to planning the Beltane festivities, giving Tarot readings, cleansing houses, teaching magic.
The demon had pulled her into all this by murdering Susan, and here Amber sat in a rundown hotel with a feverish dragon and a worried werewolf, Amber grieving not only for the loss of her sister but the possible loss of a man with whom she had fallen in love.
Life used to be so simple.
Another complication walked up and knocked on the door. Sabina dashed over to answer it, revealing Detective Simon. He glanced at Sabina in faint surprise, then came inside and closed the door. Amber started to rise then sank down again in sudden lethargy when she saw the grim look on the police detective’s face.
“What is it?”
Simon scraped the chair away from the desk and sat, balancing himself on the chair’s rickety legs. Valerian quieted, wiping his nose in silence, and Sabina perched on the end of his bed.
“I heard a report from park rangers and state police in the Montana Rockies. A ranger on patrol early this morning found signs of a disturbance in a clearing about a half mile off a jeep road. Someone had driven a four-wheel drive out there, a big one, like a Hum-V.”
Simon paused, giving Amber a quiet look from his dark eyes. He’d been the same when he’d come to tell Amber about Susan’s death, sympathetic but no-nonsense, hating that he had to describe things that would hurt.
“A lot of brush had been disturbed,” he continued. “There were definite tracks in the snow—one of a man who’d walked alone and about a dozen tracks of other men who surrounded him.
There was a fight, a bad one. The whole clearing was bloody with it—filled with large pools of blood.” He shook his head. “No one could lose that much blood and survive.”
Valerian spoke belligerently. “How do you know it has anyding to do wid Adrian?”
“Because in the woods near the clearing, the rangers found goggles and a mask, and other cold-weather gear, more than would be needed walking around those mountains in late spring. It was gear from an Arctic expedition, and the rental tags were from a store in this town.”
Amber sat still, a sour taste working its way to her throat. Ferrin slithered to Amber and draped himself dejectedly across her knee.
Simon went on. “I’m sorry, Amber. It looks as though he was ambushed, badly hurt, and taken away.”
“But Adrian cabn’t die,” Valerian repeated.
“I saw the photographs they took of the scene. If he’s alive, it’s only barely.” Simon looked at Amber again, his dark eyes sad. “I’m sorry.”
Amber shook her head, some part of her thinking she should reassure Detective Simon, tell him she didn’t hold him to blame. But grief clenched her, along with gut-twisting worry, and she couldn’t find the words.
“You said this was in the Montana Rockies?” Sabina asked. She gave Amber a significant look.
“What?” Simon asked.
“Septimus,” Sabina said, a wolflike glower on her face. “He had something going down in Montana, and I’ll give you three guesses what that something was. It would be just like a vampire to get something as flashy as a Hummer for his dirty work.”
“Adrian called Septimus an Old One,” Simon mused. “That sounds bad.”
“It means he’s ancient and very powerful,” Amber said. “Strong enough to take on even Adrian if he had help.”
“And Sebtimus had a grudge,” Valerian said. “Yeards of being under Adrian’s tumb.” He sniffled into his wad of tissues. “I bet Sebtimus was habby to get out of dat.”
“Do you know where Septimus could have taken him?” Amber asked him.
Valerian shook his head. “I hab no idea. Hid club or one of hid hideouts if he’ds on his own. Who knowds where if he’ds working for a demon?”
“If Kelly’s his blood slave, she might be able to find out,” Amber said.
“If Kelly’s hid blood slabe, she won’dt tell us jack.”
“On the other hand,” Sabina said, “she might not be able to resist a really pissed-off werewolf. Or a dragon.” She gave Valerian a severe look. “That is, as long as he doesn’t have Kleenex stuck to his nose.”
Valerian scrubbed his nose with the tissues, glaring at her over them.
“We can start in Los Angeles,” Amber said, trying to think. “I have spells, and I can make Kelly tell us what she knows. Which might not be very much, unfortunately. I have the feeling Septimus is smart enough not to spill his secrets to his lovers.”
“He doedn’t bite and tell, you bean,” Valerian said.
“Probably not, but I’ll get what I can from her.” Amber turned to Simon, some of her energy returning. “Detective, do you have any police contacts in Los Angeles? Maybe if we can present evidence that Septimus kidnapped Adrian, they can raid his club and see if he’s being held there, and maybe raid Septimus’s other hideouts too. And if the police won’t go in, I will.”
“With me right behind you,” Sabina said.
“Bee too,” Valerian snuffled. “Even wid a cold I’ll scare the piss out of dem. Dragons sndeeze fire.”
Amber’s heart beat faster. Valerian could tear down the club chunk by chunk and let the daylight in. She and Sabina could interrogate the vampires hiding from the sun—she and Sabina together had enough power to take down one vamp at a time. Plus Amber had Ferrin, whose eyes were glittering now, as though he imagined chomping any vampire who got between him and Adrian.
Detective Simon rose abruptly to his feet. “Amber, can I talk to you? Outside?”
“Id’s cold out dere,” Valerian said.
“We’ll sit in the car. Amber?”
His face was stern, even angry. He wanted to lecture her. Amber was about to refuse, then she got a good look in his eyes. He needed to talk to her, needed to express his fears, and Amber didn’t have the heart to turn him away.
Nodding, she gently laid Ferrin on the bed and rose to follow Detective Simon outside.
Chapter Seventeen
Detective Simon said nothing until he’d ushered Amber into his rental car, climbed into the driver’s seat, cranked the ignition, and started the heat running. He gripped the steering wheel as he studied the dark board walls of the motel in front of them, the once-red paint peeling and curling from years of hard winter wind.
“Amber,” he said. “I don’t want you going back to Los Angeles. I want you to go home, to Seattle.” His cheekbones had stained red, and his wide chest rose and fell with his breathing. He expected her to argue.
“I can’t desert Adrian,” Amber said.
“I knew you’d say that, but you won’t be deserting him. I do have contacts in Los Angeles, and I’ll look into the Septimus angle. I’ll do it for you.” Simon looked at her directly. “But I want you out of it. I want you home. Safe.”
Amber hugged her arms over her chest. “What makes you think home is safe for me?”
“Because from everything you and Valerian have told me, it was Adrian the demon wanted all along, not you. You were only the means to an end. If the demon has Adrian, he’ll leave you alone. I’ve worked on demon cases before, and I know demons are coldly logical. Vampires act on lust and emotion, but demons can be very calculating.”
“Everyday demons are logical,” Amber said. “This one’s different.”
“I know. He’s an Old One, as Adrian called him. But if you’re right about his modus so far, then this demon is being coldly logical. Ruthlessly so. The demon’s got Adrian; and so, he’s done with you. That’s why I want you out of it. I want him to stay done with you.”
Amber shook her head. “I can’t sit home wringing my hands when I could be helping search for Adrian.”
“Amber.” Simon’s voice cut over her words. “I know you care for him. I wish you didn’t, but I can’t change that, so I’ll find him for you. But please, for me, go home and lock your doors. Stay safe. Please.”
Amber let out a slow breath. “I wish I didn’t love him. But I do.”
“And the last person you want comfort from is me. I understand.”
She gave him a surprised look. “I don’t blame you for my problems. You happened to be the officer assigned to Susan’s case, and you’ve been very nice to me. Much nicer than you needed to be. You cared about how Susan’s death affected me—I wasn’t merely the victim’s sister.”
“I was just doing my job,” he said.
“No you weren’t.”
Simon shot her a sideways glance, then he sighed. “No, I wasn’t. But how I feel about you is my problem. I’ll deal with it.”
Amber swallowed. “I’m sorry . . .”
He held up his hand. “Please don’t launch into the ‘we can be friends’ speech. I’ll find Adrian for you, and then I’ll get out of your life. I’m forty-two; I’m experienced in how to move on.”
“I’m still sorry.”
Simon shrugged his broad shoulders. “You can’t always pick and choose who you fall in love with. I mean, look at your choices. On the one hand, you have a loner cop who’s been kicked around a little too much, and on the other a bad-ass warrior with a gleaming sword. I can see how this is difficult for you.”
Amber laughed, feeling hollow. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“And please don’t give me the ‘there’s someone out there for you,’ speech or ‘I bet you have women pounding down your doors.’ I’m divorced, I spend way too much time at work, and my social life sucks. But it’s my own fault, and I’ll get by. Don’t feel sorry for me. But do me a favor—be busy not being sorry for me in your old house in Seattle with all that witch mag
ic around it.”
“Susan compromised the wards, and the demon broke through,” Amber said. “I’ll have to spend a lot of time cleansing the house again.”
“Good. It will give you something to do while I’m investigating in L.A.” Simon gave her a direct look, no longer embarrassed.
Amber gathered her arguments. “I’ll make a deal with you. You let me go back to Los Angeles, and I’ll wait in Adrian’s house while you and your cop friends raid the club. Adrian’s house is much better warded than mine—I’ve never seen a barrier of life magic like it. There’s no way I can’t know what’s going on. At least at Adrian’s house I could listen to the police scanner and know right away whether you found him.”
Simon’s eyes were deep blue, like a lake, and his square face was hard and handsome. He could have women beating down his door if he’d let himself see that.
“All right.” The words were grudging. “But you’d better promise me you’ll stay in that house and not stir a step. I don’t want you doing the stupid heroine thing and rushing in to mess up a perfectly good stakeout.” Simon paused while Amber stared back at him coolly. “But I’ll take that cobra with me, if you’ll tell him not to bite me. I’m betting he’ll be useful.”
* * *
Adrian opened his eyes as the pain eased off. Sweat stung under his lashes, and a lock of blood-soaked hair had matted to his right eyelid. He reached to brush it away . . . and realized his hands were bound above naked body, held in place by industrial-strength chains, strong enough to keep an Immortal tethered. They were spelled to keep him in place even if he broke free of the physical restraints.
When he turned his head, he could see the cheerful pattern of wallpaper he rested against, the inhabitants of this house decorating even the remote corners of it in pretty colors. Adrian’s blood now covered the charming blues and yellows with streaks of scarlet.
From Jennifer Ashley, With Love: Three Paranormal Romances from Bestselling Series Page 63