Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2
Page 25
“I know the feeling,” I said, finding myself strangely, erotically, turned on to hear how much he loved me. For love I believed it was, more now than ever before.
He gave a small smile and looked so sad. It was clear he thought he had his answer, and that my “knowing” involved Bahlin, not him.
I stepped up to him and reached for his hands, never breaking eye contact. “I love you too,” I breathed, leaning forward to kiss his lips.
The world tilted, just like it had that fateful night at the stones, and we clung to each other. Time stopped, and we were suspended in being before the words, “Thar gach ni eile, a chuisle, a chroí” whispered across our skin, and we were slammed back into our bodies. Above all else, my pulse, my heart. Something in me let go. We both went to our knees on the hard floor, the fall jarring me and making my teeth clack together.
Hellion grabbed my face and held me too tightly. “Are you all right?”
I tried to nod but only managed a small movement between his clutching hands.
He dragged me to him, crushing his lips to mine as he lay down with me, his body covering mine, forearms pushed up under my armpits and behind my shoulders so his hands cupped the back of my head. I clung to him like the sky clings to the horizon. He ravished my mouth, breaking away only to nip at my jaw and neck, gripping my hair and pulling my head back for better access.
I gasped. My body ached. I wanted him in every way, in every possible way a woman can want a man. “Take me to bed, Hellion,” I whispered, licking the outer shell of his ear and then biting his neck hard enough that he gasped.
“We’ve a guest to attend to and then I’m all yours. But first, tell me again,” he pleaded, pushing back and looking into my eyes. “Please, say it again.”
“I love you,” I gasped, my voice hardly more than a whisper.
“Why? Why now?” he demanded, gripping my head between his enormous hands.
“I’m tired of fighting what I feel. I know that destiny’s at play in my life to a point, but I still have free will in some of my choices. One of those choices is how well I love you, and I want to do it right. So I choose to love you well, Hellion. I. Choose.”
He crushed his lips to mine once more in a blood-boiling kiss and then he stood, pulling me up with him. “If I didn’t run the risk of being charged as a serial murderer, I’d tell Ben to take a bloody hike. As it is, I need him.”
My stomach fell at the thought of Hellion charged with crimes I knew he hadn’t committed. “Can’t I act as a witness? I mean, I know you were home on more than one occasion when a murder occurred.”
“We’ll see. You know what? I’m going to tell Ben we’ll meet with him Monday. That gives us the rest of today and the weekend to get the two of us sorted out, and that’s got to be my first priority.” He strode out of the bathroom and came right back in to kiss me once more before jogging out of the room.
I sat on the edge of the counter, contemplating the strange feeling in my chest. I love Hellion, I thought, and it gave me butterflies and made me feel breathlessly hopeful. Smiling a bit to myself and rubbing my lips where he’d last kissed me, I turned to straighten the bathroom counter from where he’d put himself together after his brief shower. Picking up his brush, I was struck by the blond hairs stuck in the bristles. Hellion’s hair was naturally that blond that women pay for: brown, gold, platinum, and copper. It was rich and vibrant and…holy mother of Moses.
I turned and sprinted out of the bathroom and through the bedroom door, straight into Hellion, who was charging back into the room after having said his farewell to Ben. He grunted, staggering back from the impact. I threw my arms around him to steady myself.
“What is it?” he demanded, setting me behind him and away from whatever threat he thought was in the bedroom.
I scrambled around in front of him, waving his brush around. “No! Don’t you see? It wasn’t your hair!” I shouted.
“Beg pardon?” he asked, watching me carefully.
“Come here.” He let me drag him into the bathroom and turn on the recessed lighting. It shined down on us, brilliantly illuminating the calico hair in the brush. “See? Your hair is multi-colored, right? What color was the hair in your letter and the hair found at Amaly’s?”
Hellion’s face clouded over and he looked down at his feet. “I’m still not entirely clear, Maddy. It was blond, like mine.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, Hellion. The hair in your letter and, I’m betting, at Amaly’s was a true, solid blond. Not the multi-colored pelt you sport. It couldn’t have been your hair!” I pumped my fist in the air then hugged the brush to my chest, a sense of satisfaction spreading through me.
Hellion finally looked up and he smiled a small smile, but his eyes were shadowed with grief. “So I really did kill her.”
“Huh?”
“Amaly. I really did kill her,” he said. He hung his head and locked his hands behind his neck. “Shit.”
“No, you didn’t. The killer did.” Tossing the brush on the counter, I stepped forward and grabbed his arms, pulling his hands down and sliding my own into his. Hellion’s hands were cold, and I began rubbing them to warm him, though I wasn’t sure it would help. “Hellion, what could a witch or wizard do with hair?”
“We talked about this, Maddy. Hair is an incredibly personal item and could be used to do any number of things. The list is too long to possibly go through, and even if we did I’m sure we’d miss things. No, I don’t think it’s possible.”
I gently slapped a hand to his chest, making him raise his eyes.
“Any reason you’re hitting me?” he asked in a flat voice. His eyes were drawn and bruised looking, his lack of sleep and ricocheting emotions finally catching up to him.
“I need your attention. This is critical.” Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair. “We don’t need all the possible solutions regarding what hair can be used for. We need one probable solution. What we need to know is what this hair was used for.” Taking a handful of his hair, I tugged and pulled his face down to me for a kiss. He came willingly, and his lips moved against mine in a sweet joining that left us both breathless and Hellion’s eyes a little brighter.
“What could this hair have been used for?” he asked absently as his gaze softened and he dug through his mental files, biting his bottom lip and holding it between his teeth. He ran a hand over his chest slowly where I’d slapped him, unconsciously massaging his pectoral muscle.
“Think of it this way,” I said. “Is there some benefit for getting the hair into a person’s home, or even hotel room? Does having hair inside a dwelling do anything for the person whose hair it is? Or was? Or—”
“I get it,” he muttered, switching to rubbing his jaw as he thought. I saw the moment he had the answer because he paled further and swayed. “Holy goddess,” he croaked. “I did kill her, Maddy.”
“Hellion! No, you didn’t. You—”
“Stop,” he commanded in a deep voice, and I did.
I hated it when he pulled magic shit like that against me, even if it was small.
“Just listen. Hair is a very personal thing, unique to its owner. That individuality makes hair a powerful addition to any spell or magic performed. If strong wards are set—for example, around this house—and a person cannot break the magic in order to get inside, she, or he, can choose to get something of theirs that is highly personal and unique to them inside the place that’s warded. In this case, the killer used hair. Once the hair is inside, the person can call themselves to that piece of, well, themselves. Only one or two wards are strong enough to keep someone out when they are calling themselves back together.” He pressed his hands against his temples and pushed, the muscles on his arms flexing and releasing as he pushed then relaxed over and over again. Opening his eyes, he stared at me and asked, “Why would someone want inside these places?”
“For me,” I whispered. “Each place has been somewhere I was or had been. So if anyone killed Amaly
, it’s me.” I hadn’t liked her, but I hadn’t wished her dead, either. It was hard on the conscience to realize your simple existence caused someone else’s death. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you said it yourself. The killer is responsible here.” Hellion gathered me up in a bone-crushing hug then released me and grasped my shoulders. “Now I need you to think. Put that inherited logic to use, Maddy. What is the killer after?”
“Seriously, Hellion, it’s got to be me. Think about it. At the hotel, the hair was put into the card on the flowers and delivered to my room. The killer wanted to be able to get into rooms she, or he, assumed were heavily warded, so he sent the hair. Then at your place, he sent the letter with the hair because he was sure your home was warded against intruders. We made the mistake of carrying the hair to Amaly’s and then—”
“Walking to dinner,” he finished for me, and I nodded. “We walked to dinner and the killer likely saw us, so after he knew we’d gone, he returned to Amaly’s and killed her.”
“Yes.” A feeling of dread was blossoming in my stomach, unfurling like a flower on a time-lapse camera, one petal at a time on fast-forward. “Hellion, Gaitha was here at the front door that night, remember? Darius said she left in a rush when she caught a whiff of something. I’m proposing it was magic that drew her away. Gaitha was at Avebury Henge the night the waitress was killed. And Gaitha saw us leave Black & Bleu.” I looked at him, my breathing suddenly shallow and too fast. “I think we may have our killer.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Hellion and I walked dazedly back into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled me to stand between his legs and laid his head on my chest. There was nothing remotely sexual about the action. This was about comfort.
“How in the name of all the gods will we stop her?” he muttered, eyes closed as I ran my fingers through his hair. “She’s a bloody queen and fae to boot.”
I was quiet, partly because I had no answers for him and partly because I was lost in thought. Was she the killer? It would have taken an inordinate amount of strength to nearly cut the heads off the girls, and if they struggled, it would have been all the worse for the attacker. Did Gaitha have that kind of strength? I wasn’t sure. “Hellion?”
“Hmm?” His voice was subdued, and he didn’t lift his head. Needing him more alert, I stopped rubbing his scalp and pulled his face up to look at me. He slowly opened solemn eyes and blinked.
“How physically strong are the fae? Particularly female fae.”
“Well, I’m not sure entirely since they’re so secretive. I know they’re stronger than the average human, and incredibly fast, though not as fast as a vampire.” He looked at me, brows drawing together. “Why? Does it make a difference if we’ve already figured out she’s guilty?”
“No, I suppose not. I just want to be sure.”
He stroked my arms and then stood, scooped me up and laid me down on the bed. Flipping up the foot blanket, he crawled in beside me and held me close. “The burden of justice is great. Plato said, ‘Not to help justice in her need would be an impiety’.“
I turned into him and buried my face in his chest as his arms came around me. “A man who quotes Plato? I’m a lucky girl,” I teased.
“Damn straight, and don’t you forget it, chit.” He stilled. “Of course, I believe we’re both lucky to have been brought together. Maddy, I—”
A knock at the door interrupted him, and he sighed and dropped his head to my shoulder in resignation. It seemed there was always someone at the nearest door when we had something significant to say to one another.
“What?” he snapped out in a loud voice.
“No need to growl, mate, it’s just me.”
Darius was here.
We sat in the parlor sipping a variety of drinks. Either vampires were quite fond of a glass of wine or what Darius was drinking wasn’t red wine. In that case, I didn’t want to be “paranormally enlightened.” Friendship would only take me so far. Hellion and I had opted for whiskey. Surprisingly, I’d developed quite a taste for the stuff of late.
“So how goes the investigation?” Darius asked from the corner where he lazed by the fire. He was well dressed as usual in fitted black pants that fell over buttery leather boots, a midnight blue silk shirt and a black leather coat that hung to his knees.
“Well enough,” Hellion answered. He was tense, and I wasn’t clear what the problem was. I knew I was tense because Darius had watched me get nasty with Hellion, and there’s nothing that says uncomfortable like being an unwilling victim of voyeurism. I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up now, though, not with Hellion already acting strange.
“Not willing to talk about it?” Darius pressed.
“Not yet,” I answered, glancing between the two men. “Besides, I thought you wanted plausible deniability.”
“Oh, I did.” He picked up his glass of wine and ran a finger around the rim, watching me closely. “That was until I found out Bahlin has been employing a certain wizard with questionable morals. Now I’m wondering if we shouldn’t take a closer look at things before someone else dies.”
“But…” I wasn’t sure what to say. Inexplicably, I still didn’t want Bahlin to be guilty. It was one thing to be disgusted with someone and entirely another to rain certain death down upon them.
Hellion thought to ask the more pertinent question. “Who’s the wizard?” His voice was cool and detached, not the friendly one I was used to hearing when these two spoke to each other.
“Hellion?” I asked.
“Later. Who’s the wizard?” he asked again.
“Connell Darach.”
Hellion clenched the glass he was holding so tightly I was scared he’d break it. I reached to remove it from him and he snapped, “Leave it.”
I jerked my hand back as if he’d struck it. “I’m not a damned dog, Hellion. Set the glass down before you shatter it or don’t, but don’t expect me to help pick glass out of the hand if you cut it up.” I stood and walked to the bookcase, leaving my back turned toward the men as I fought to gain control of my anger and self-doubt. Like Bahlin, was Hellion going to change the way he behaved since I’d admitted I loved him?
Darius’s voice was like a hand brushed across velvet when he spoke, saying, “He’s angry because Connell is one of his primary adversaries. He’s probably the one man on the planet who could challenge Hellion for his position as Europe’s Coven Master and his position on the High Council…and win.” His voice went from soft to sharp, taunting.
“He’d try but he’d no succeed,” Hellion snarled, his brogue slipping into the conversation.
“What’s with you two?” I asked, turning around to find they’d both stood up and taken a step toward each other. I pointed at Darius. “You need to stop being a prick. Seriously.” Turning to Hellion, I said, “And you, you need to stop rising to the bait.” I shook my head and muttered, “Everyone needs one asshole, and I was born with mine. How did I suddenly end up with two extra?”
Darius snorted and said, “My apologies, Maddy.” He sat back down, dropping his head into his hands as if he had a headache. “I’m not sure what’s come over me lately. It’s true I desire you, and greatly, but Hellion’s been my friend for too long to allow things to escalate to such a point, and so quickly.” He rubbed his forehead and I looked down, belatedly realizing his coat had fallen open. Darius was sporting a serious…whoa.
He snorted, and I belatedly remembered his little gift of mind reading. Get out of my mind, you giant tick, I thought, concentrating on mentally pushing him away.
He tipped his wine glass toward me and flashed fang when he smiled.
What was it with everyone jockeying for position where I was concerned? I felt like a queen on a chessboard, with everyone circling around me and trying to figure out how to find the best way to knock me down, knock me out or take me off the board for good. I shook my head, disgusted.
“I want to know what’s going on that has you so, um,
wound up,” I said, blushing and waggling a hand in Darius’s general direction. “Something clearly isn’t right here. If you take a second to tone down the testosterone, you’ll see it too.”
“’Right’ how, Maddy?” Darius moved a step back and set his glass down before lacing his hands behind his head.
“You’re acting like I’m a prize to fight over. I’m not sure what brought this on, but you need to quit.” I looked at Darius, pointedly holding his gaze.
Hellion quietly watched the byplay. He startled us when he spoke. “Something is clearly out of sorts. I believe it has to do with you, anamchara, though I’m not sure what it is. Darius, I’ll ask you as a friend to respect the relationship I have with her. She’s off limits.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Darius muttered. “And I’ll agree something is out of sorts. It centers around you, Maddy, like some sort of primal pull. I’ve never felt anything like it.” Shaking his head, he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m fine.”
In an effort to get the conversation back on track, I turned it back to Darius. “So where is this Connell guy?”
“At the risk of sounding like a smartass, I’ll say he’s likely wherever Bahlin is.” Darius rubbed his forehead and took several deep breaths. It took me a moment to realize what was wrong with that picture. Vampires don’t have to breathe more than a few times a minute unless they were talking or scenting. We were talking, but not that much.