Soft morning light filtered through the small bathroom window, bathing the wood-panelled bathroom in a golden glow. She closed her eyes, steeling herself to stay under the cold water another minute. She had things she needed to sort out today, and convincing Jericho she had to talk to Coulter was one of them. Confronting Bowden was another. A frank conversation between the two of them was well overdue. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly wrapped a towel around herself, teeth chattering.
‘Want me to take a look at your neck?’
In the mirror, she saw Jericho behind her, arms folded.
‘I’m fine,’ she told him.
‘I want you to stay here this morning,’ he said. ‘While I try to sort things out. Things aren’t stable at the Dog House and I want to make certain you’re not in any danger.’
She turned to face him, realising he meant it. That he thought it was his role to protect her, when it was supposed to be the other way around. What went down yesterday would not stand. In fact, a lot of things in Camden weren’t right. But first, she needed to address the issue of Coulter. She gave Jericho a reassuring smile that felt tight at the edges. ‘I don’t need you to protect me.’
His brow rippled with a frown. ‘My world is dangerous, Lydia. I don’t want you hurt.’
‘I know your world is dangerous, but mine is too.’
‘You don’t understand,’ he said, then fell silent, hands dropping to his side. He took a deep breath, before saying, ‘I took you into a secure compound meant for Breed only. I thought I was doing the right thing, but by taking you into Crystal Waters, you came to the attention of those who’d hurt you. Those who think you’re a Hunter.’
She saw the concern in his face, but knew she couldn’t hold herself hostage to his worry for her. ‘I don’t care about your super-secret Breed laws, Jericho. I care about people being able to trust the law that was set in place.’ She inched her chin up. ‘You say some of your kind wants me dead and I should hide? I say let them come and I’ll deal with it. But I won’t stay here while my home town is torn apart.’
‘I’m not asking you to do that,’ Jericho said through clenched teeth. ‘I’m asking you to lay low for a couple of days, that’s all.’
‘You’re asking me to ignore the fact that Coulter knows the identity of a killer in town.’ Her eyes darted away. ‘And the fact that he’s a murder himself.’
‘He’ll pay for his past crimes,’ Jericho growled. ‘And he’ll give up a name for us. I guarantee it.’
Lydia opened her mouth to argue, but saw from Jericho’s face she’d be wasting her breath. She crossed her arms, mimicking his body posture. ‘I’m a cop, Jericho. I enforce the law and I don’t like the idea of your kind running about, thinking they can get away with murder.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘You need to tell me where Coulter is. If he’s still alive, I need to talk to him.’
‘I can’t do that.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Look, just tell me where he is, okay?’
‘He’s somewhere I can’t take you without putting us both at risk, so don’t ask me again. My answer won’t change.’
‘I could get a warrant to search the compound for him, you know,’ she threatened.
Jericho’s eyelids lowered, the hint of an annoying smile playing on his lips. ‘I doubt that, baby.’
‘Don’t call me that.’ She looked away, suddenly fuming because she knew he was right. There was no way Bowden would green light the paperwork for a search warrant. Though what end that would serve, she had no idea.
‘Fine.’ Jericho reached for her, pulling her against him. ‘You want to tell me what last night was about then? Was I just a random fuck?’
‘Let go of me.’ She struggled in his grip, fury mounting. ‘I don’t know what last night was. All I know is I won’t stay here, waiting for the menfolk to return.’
Jericho let her go suddenly and she stumbled back. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Do what you want.’
‘I’m going to go into town,’ she said, breathless. ‘I’ve got to talk to Bowden.’
Jericho opened his mouth to argue when his mobile rang. He grabbed it out of his back pocket, turning away from her to bark into the receiver. Lydia slipped past him and into the room, searching for her clothes. She finally found them in the living room by a cold fire. She had her pants on and was buttoning up her shirt when Jericho stepped into the room, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. She noted he didn’t look angry anymore. In fact, she couldn’t read him at all.
‘Who was that?’ she asked.
‘Turk. I have to go. Right now. There’s trouble heading for the bar and fucking Vaughn is nowhere around.’
Lydia’s radar switched on. ‘What kind of trouble?’
‘Some out-of-town bikers we’ve had trouble with before have been spotted heading towards the bar.’
‘Do you need help?’ The offer flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. Despite being furious at him for treating her like she was helpless, she still felt connected to him somehow, a connection that ran strong and deep.
‘I want you to stay here,’ he said. She heard the concern in his voice, saw how worried he was. A thought glimmered, that maybe Jericho was harbouring feelings for her beyond casual carnal lust. It frightened her when she found she liked that idea very much.
She swallowed, trying to find the right words to make things right between them. ‘Look. I’m just going into town to check in with Bowden. Then I’ll head home around lunch. We can meet up there, if you like.’ She stepped close to him, suddenly wanting to feel his arms around her, his warm skin beneath her hands. She reached up to dance her fingers over his solid chest, before he drew her into an embrace. His lips lowered to hers, seeking, wanting, needing, the kiss hungry and hot. Lydia’s body responded to him, aching for his touch. She clamped down on the feeling, breaking the kiss and pulling away.
‘Agreed?’ she asked, breathless.
He stared at her for a long moment, as if still struggling with the concept of a compromise. She got it. He was a president of a motorcycle club and the leader of the most unstable males of his species. What he said, went. But she was a cop and if he didn’t understand she had her own responsibilities, then whatever they had would die before the morning was done.
‘Agreed.’
She watched as he headed for the door without another look, back stiff. She hoped he could handle the trouble he was heading out to fix, and that things wouldn’t turn violent. But she wouldn’t offer to help—she’d wait until he asked. Then she would give him everything he needed.
He opened the front door and paused to look back at her. ‘Your car’s still out front. To get back into town, follow the road south. You’ll hit town within the half hour.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘I programmed my number into your phone. Call me the moment you need me.’
Then he was gone, door slamming behind him. She sat, grabbing her boots and pulling them on, hearing the roar of his bike start up and fade into the distance.
Chapter 32
Lydia drove towards town in the Solbergs’ ute. She wound the window down, letting the cool morning air into the cabin, a light rain sprinkling her windscreen. On the horizon, storm clouds darkened the sky, and the smell of an oncoming storm came with the breeze.
Despite the uneasy compromise with Jericho, her mind kept slipping back to their night together. He had been a considerate lover, and she had felt at ease with him. A small part of her hoped he’d come to her house later. Maybe for a coffee and a chat. Popcorn and a movie. Some fooling around on the couch. She tried to squash the thought and tried to ignore the way thinking of him quickened her breath.
She braked for a stop light, before turning onto the main street and the fantasy vanished like a wisp of smoke, replaced by frustration. She hit a fist against the steering wheel. If there was one thing her awkward teenage years had taught her, it was that mooning over a man was a waste of time. She would never fit in Jericho’s life, just as he would never fit in h
ers. Last night had been a one-time thing, that was it. Right now, she needed to concentrate on finding Anna’s killer, which meant talking to Coulter. But with Jericho being a stubborn bastard, Bowden was looking like her best chance to figuring out how to get access to the Diablo Dogs compound.
She turned into the police station parking lot, knowing it was time to force the senior sergeant to show his hand. She was going to confront him on exactly what his deal was with the Breed. Maybe he could squeeze out of Jericho where Coulter was. It felt underhanded, but waiting for Jericho to provide her with answers wasn’t going to work for her.
Inside the station, Elaine’s eyes popped wide and she hurried around the counter.
‘Lydia? What are you doing in here? The sarg said you were sick and might be home all week.’ Her words came out in a rush, then she stopped, eyeing Lydia’s clothes. ‘Is that blood?’
‘Uh, no,’ Lydia murmured. ‘Old shirt, old stains.’
‘No clean clothes?’ Elaine gave her a wary look. ‘Okay, I get that. You’re sure you’re feeling okay?’
‘Elaine, I really need to talk to Bowden. Is he here?’
The spiky-haired woman jerked a thumb towards his office. ‘But he’s with Belinda from the Early Bird Bakery. She came in ten minutes ago, all upset and said she wanted to file a complaint.’ Elaine paused, then added, ‘She looked pretty shook up.’
‘This can’t wait,’ Lydia said, hurrying towards Bowden’s door. She burst through the door without knocking to see Bowden behind his desk, face pensive. A woman sat in the chair opposite him, her face flushed and furious looking. Bowden raised his eyebrows at Lydia questioningly.
‘I thought you were sick,’ he said.
‘Is that her?’ The woman turned to fix Lydia with a glare.
Bowden gestured wearily to her. ‘Lydia, this is Belinda Stewart. She owns the bakery down the road.’
The woman’s head snapped back to Bowden. ‘I don’t understand why you’re just sitting there, like what I’ve told you is nothing. He assaulted me.’
Bowden make a placating gesture. ‘He called you a couple of dirty names. I agree, that was out of line. But I can tell you now, it just sounds like he’d had a bit too much to drink.’
‘Too much to drink?’ Belinda looked like she wanted to slap him. ‘So much he thought I was her?’ She jerked a thumb at Lydia. ‘We don’t look a thing alike!’
‘Who thought you were me?’ Lydia asked the woman.
‘Let’s not get too hasty here.’ Bowden held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. ‘After all, a man’s reputation is a fragile thing, you know. You start making accusations about his intentions and before you know it, he gets ostracised from the community.’ He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. ‘If you ask me, that’s a pretty harsh sentence for a young man who just lost his cool and got confused.’
‘Confused?’ Belinda’s voice rose. ‘He called me a whore!’
‘Who?’ Lydia nearly shouted.
Bowden gave Lydia an exasperated look. ‘Lydia, get out please. I’ll see you in a minute.’
She stared at Bowden, frustrated. Then a thought came to her—Elaine would know what was going on. She turned and marched out of the office, heading for Elaine’s desk, when Novak appeared from the bathroom, buckling his belt up. When he saw her, he sneered.
‘I hear you’re a real heartbreaker,’ he said.
Lydia stopped and stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’
He jerked his head towards Bowden’s now closed door. ‘Heard Jamie McCormick went on a bender. Started spewing some shit about you.’
‘Me?’ Lydia frowned. She hadn’t called Jamie after their meal, but to be fair, he hadn’t called her either. ‘I don’t know why. We had one meal together.’
‘Yeah?’ Novak grinned. ‘You sure it was just dinner? You sure he didn’t get some dessert after?’
Lydia didn’t bother defending herself; she knew when she was being baited. She whirled back inside Bowden’s office and he shot to his feet, face flushing red.
‘Constable Gault, I told you to wait outside,’ he thundered.
She ignored him, addressing Belinda. ‘What did Jamie McCormick say to you, specifically? I need to know. It’s important.’
‘How he wasn’t going to let me take his place,’ Belinda shrugged. ‘None of it made much sense.’
Lydia swayed, her hand shooting out to steady herself against the wall, the realisation a sucker punch to the guts. She remembered how Jamie had made her laugh at the Camden Grill. A Breed Hunter, hiding in plain sight.
‘Lydia?’ Bowden started coming around his desk. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I have to go.’ She turned and ran out of the station, Bowden shouting out behind her, asking what was wrong. But she didn’t stop, didn’t bother, because there was only one person she trusted to have her back.
* * *
Karla sat in the passenger seat, listening to the soft swishing sound of the windscreen wipers work against the morning rain and watching the rolling green fields pass by. What Camden lacked socially it made up for in breathtaking scenery. Not that she would miss the place when she moved on. And she would be moving on, despite Vaughn’s plans. No man ruled her.
‘Are you sure about coming?’ Vaughn glanced at her, before returning his attention to the road. ‘This is something I can do on my own.’
‘I’m sure,’ she replied. There was no doubt in her mind that the cop Jericho was so taken with had to die, and she wasn’t one to shy away from watching it happen.
She had been impressed with Vaughn’s handling of the matter. He’d even checked in with a senior council member, who had agreed immediately with the Enforcer’s assessment. Once bitten, an adult must be dispensed with. Anything else was considered cruel. Karla did note he hadn’t checked in with the King on the matter and wondered if perhaps his illness was more advanced than she had been led to believe. But whatever was wrong with her brother, she was sure it would play into her favour. After all, a weak king was easy to topple.
For now, she would be satisfied with the death of the woman Jericho had fallen for. And though Vaughn had wanted to wait until the cover of darkness, she had discovered the cop was home today. Easy prey. And a clear lesson to Jericho that if he crossed her, he would suffer the consequences.
Chapter 33
Jericho’s bike roared as he sped towards the bar. A shotgun blast echoed through the forest and he knew he’d be too late to stop any bloodshed. He twisted the throttle harder, back wheels of his heavy bike spinning out on the dirt driveway as he rounded a corner. The bar shot into view seconds later, the front car park a chaotic clash of toppled bikes and brawling men. He had time to register maybe thirty armed Slayers, against a dozen G1s and his crew, brandishing knives and baseball bats.
He rammed his bike into two Slayers, sending them sprawling into the mud, weapons knocked from hands. He dismounted just as another Slayer came at him with a knife and he ducked, then shot up with an uppercut that saw the Slayer spitting teeth. A right hook into his jaw and the biker crumpled to the ground.
Scoping the crowd, Jericho spied Reaper swinging a bat at offending heads and breaking them with an almost casual grace. Blades darted about, dagger slashing, and Frost kept pace with him, fists flying with an economy of movement that was impressive to watch. Shotguns blazed and men shouted to each other, boots kicking up mud as rain fell about them.
Something solid smashed against the back of his head and he stumbled to his knees, head spinning, bad knee jolting. Twisting, he spied a Slayer aiming a shotgun at his face. His hand jerked up, shoving the muzzle to the side a second before it discharged in an explosion of sound. Ears ringing, Jericho drove himself up and smashed his shoulder into the Slayer’s stomach and his attacker went down. Jericho grabbed the shotgun, and hammered his would-be attacker in the groin, a solid hit that saw the biker roll to his side, gasping. More hands grabbed him then, and he felt something sharp spit by him, blood spilling h
ot down his cheek. He swung the shotgun, making contact with the bodies around him and then he was free. Dropping the weapon, his hands and training took over as he took down as many Slayers as he could.
The ringing in his ears faded and he looked around at the devastation that had come so close to those he was supposed to protect. Among the clash, he spied Turk, one arm limp, swinging a heavy iron chain, and Winger at his back with a pair of knuckledusters.
A terrible desperation welled up inside him, a pressure filling his head to burst. This was his pack, those he’d sworn to protect. And he was failing them. Throwing back his head, he tapped into the soul of his beast and let loose a howl of rage and anger. The sound sliced through the air as if it were a blade, searching for a secret to cut from the night air. And there, at the edge of the wood, something ancient stirred and it flooded his limbs with a newfound power, smelling like leaves burning in sulfur and flooding his mouth with a burning copper taste. Around him, men stilled, as if their primal senses knew instantly something arcane had been awakened. The trees whispered and a wave of fine mist fell on the crowd. When a spray of droplets sprinkled Jericho’s face, his skin tingled and burned as if touched by a burst of acid rain. The wind picked up as Jericho’s voice began falter and a whistling wind deepened to an unearthly moan, as if the forest was answering his call.
The Slayers shifted, darting frightened glances around them, the fight leaving their eyes, replaced with fear.
Goosebumps pricked Jericho’s skin as he lowered his head, seeing he had everyone’s attention. ‘Leave,’ he addressed the Slayers. ‘And don’t show your faces here again.’
A heavy pause, then a silent signal passed through the Slayer ranks. One by one they helped each other climb onto battered bikes and into vans, roaring off. Jericho barely noticed, too busy walking through the wounded and taking stock of injuries as each man helped each other. He nearly missed a fallen G1, who lay crumpled beside an old car, head nearly severed by a blade. Jericho stared down at the fallen man before turning and slamming a fist against the side of the car. Pain shot up his arm and he welcomed it, feeling it was deserved. He flexed his throbbing hand, seeing the deep dent he’d left behind in the side of the car. He’d failed in his duty to protect again. Intruders had come to his home and had hurt his men. Another grave to dig. Another death to carry.
Bite Deep Page 25