Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I)

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  She could count on one hand how many relationships she had, and none of them lasted more than a month. Work always got in the way, but she hadn't cared. With Tremayne, she did.

  Are you in love with the hunter?

  Why oh why had Derek asked her such a question when in the end it wouldn't matter? She couldn't stay here forever.

  She glanced at Tremayne with his chiseled jaw, dark hair and killer smile. She loved being with him and wanted the full romance before she had to say goodbye.

  "Where is this going?" she blurted out, making Tremayne turn in his seat to look at her. He hadn't started the car, but he left the keys in the ignition.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Us?" She waived a hand at him then to her, in a back and forth motion. "Do you see us…together?"

  "We are together."

  She shook her head. "No, we're not."

  "I thought you wanted to take things slow."

  "Slow yes, but not as if time stood still. Geez Tremayne, don't you want to take me to bed?" She felt the heat in her cheeks and she glanced away. "This conversation sounded so much better in my head. Forget I said anything." She was out the door before he could answer her. Maybe she didn't want to know the answer.

  The cool breeze hit her, cooling her burning cheeks as she raced back to her room.

  "Cassandra, hold up," Tremayne called after her, but she didn't turn around.

  Reaching her room, she fumbled for the keycard, and then he was there. His arms were around her, his body shielding her from the cold.

  His hands stilled her actions. "Stop," he said, his breath at her ear as he leaned against her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  "Oh, Cassandra," he said and she could hear anguish in his voice. "You have no idea what you do to me…"

  "And that's the problem," she said.

  "Look at me." he pleaded.

  "No."

  "Please, I… You have to," he said and gently turned her to face him. She met his gaze as she crossed her arms against her chest. Did he have to stand so close?

  "I care so much about you," he told her.

  She wanted to roll her eyes at his speech. Sounded like a brush off. Maybe she should go home for Christmas after all.

  "I love you."

  She could book a flight, and be out of here in— "What did you say?" 'Cause before he rambled on about relationships and such, it sounded like he said he loved her.

  "I don't want to make a muck of the relationship," Tremayne repeated.

  "No, before that."

  His brows furrowed, but then he must have realized what she was asking. "I love you," he told her. "I'm in love with you."

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I love you, too." She said between kisses, and realized it was true. How had it happened? When had it happened?

  "Oh, Cassandra…" His words were muffled beneath their lips.

  He managed to keep his mouth on hers as he opened the door to her room, ushering her in before slamming it closed behind them.

  They ended up on the bed. A slow moan slipped past her lips, a husky sound of want, but she didn't care. She loved him. He loved her. "You have too many clothes on," she told him.

  "So do you," he countered.

  It took them less than a minute to remove them, jackets, scarves, jeans and shirts were scattered in every direction. Underclothes were next.

  She took a breath as she feasted her eyes on Tremayne in all his natural beauty.

  "You're beautiful," they both said at the same time and chuckled.

  "You are," he said and took her in his arms, his mouth ravishing her with sweet caresses. The man knew how to kiss and his hands… oh his hands were quite clever too. He molded his hard rock body to hers, and she did a little caressing of her own. She smiled as she heard his groan of pleasure. Luscious anticipation and the slow burn of desire curled through her. She never wanted anyone so much.

  His mouth moved down her throat, his tongue hot and wet. He nipped lightly at her earlobe making her shudder. She'd never experienced such chemistry with anyone. She clung to him desperately as he did her. The first time making love with someone could be clumsy, but not with Tremayne. It was as if they were meant to be together, meant to love each other, and when they both tumbled over the abyss of pleasure she knew she would never have enough of this man.

  Afterwards, he held her close. A smile was plastered to her face as she played with her necklace and basked in the afterglow.

  "Interesting piece of jewelry," he commented.

  "It was my grandmother's."

  "I wager you have strong family ties," he said as a fact, as if he knew. Maybe he did.

  "The Hayes clan has always been close. Hunters who hunt together stay together."

  "Hmm…"

  She felt a change in him as if what she said had saddened him. She didn't want anything to ruin this moment. She turned toward him and kissed his lips. "Hunting isn't all there is," she said. "And I rather like the other things in life."

  "What other things?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

  She leaned up on her elbow and whispered in his ear. A low growl escaped him and he rolled her onto her back. She squealed in delight.

  "I like how you think, Cassandra Hayes." And then he captured her lips and took her soaring higher than she'd ever been. She may have made the suggestions, but Tremayne fulfilled each and every one and more.

  Well-loved and happy, sleep finally found her and she didn't wake again until the sun shone bright in her room, but she felt chilled. She sat up and realized Tremayne had slipped away sometime in the night. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stayed, but then she saw the rose and the note on the pillow next to her.

  She sniffed the rose as she read the note. Great penmanship she thought.

  To my sweet. I had a meeting this morning with my distributors. Will call you later.

  Love you, need you... Hope you'll join me for dinner tonight.

  I'm forever at your service,

  Tremayne

  She sniffed the rose again. She loved and needed him too. Maybe they could order in. She was more interested in dessert anyway.

  * * * * *

  After their lovemaking, Tremayne had held Cassandra as he watched her sleep. The satisfied curve of her lips made him smile. He hadn't meant to take her to bed, not yet anyway. He had wanted to tell her the truth about him.

  He pursed his lips. She wouldn't be thrilled she'd fallen for a vampire and slept with him, too. This is why they hadn't had the conversation. A hunter didn't fall for a vampire. An Oiche Sith didn't fall in love with a hunter either. And yet here they were.

  He wished he could have stayed with her the rest of the night and woke up next to her, but he hadn't taken any of Sheerin's concoction. He wasn't sure if he should again. It took him days to recover and feel like his old self from the last dose he'd taken.

  He liked to be in control, and he didn't like how the formula made him crave blood as if he were going through the blooding ritual of his youth. He didn't want Cassandra to be around if he finally did loose control.

  Sheerin was aware of the side effects. He'd taken so many vials of his blood, he felt like a pincushion, apparently pain was also another side effect, which Sheerin explained as the human syndrome, where he healed slower or rather at the speed a human would heal. He had a newfound respect for the humans.

  His mobile buzzed. He was pleased to see a text from Cassandra. He'd hoped she wouldn't be angry when she awoke and he wasn't there beside her. The flower and the note must have done the trick. Her text read: Dinner is nice. Dessert is better.

  He texted her with: Will there be whip cream?

  Seconds ticked by and he was relieved when the mobile chimed again. Her text: Kinky. I'm game if you are.

  His lips curved. Dessert would be heavenly.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The night air felt cool, but Cassandra bundled up warm with a
scarf, wool jacket and boots when she met Tremayne at the pub. Their time together had been wonderful before they made love, but it proved even better now. Three days of lovemaking, three days of pure bliss, and she wanted more. She looked forward to the pub being closed on Christmas day, and then she'd have Tremayne all to herself. Perhaps they could spend the whole day together...the whole night and wake up in the morning in each other's arms without Tremayne having to run off to meet with a distributor, or whatever else was required in running a business.

  They walked arm and arm down the walkway. No words were needed as they admired the shops decorated with Christmas lights and holly, but as they came to the crosswalk, Cassandra spotted the Christmas tree lot. "Let's check it out." She ushered Tremayne forward and he let her drag him along.

  Her face lit up as she went down the rows and rows of trees. "When do you put up your tree?" she asked as her gloved hand lightly caressed the tree that had been flocked to imitate snow. She'd stopped to admire it. "We usually set ours up around the first week of December," she told him. "Doesn't seem like Christmas without one?" She sighed.

  "Uh…that's nice," he said and she glanced at him with a chuckle.

  "Nice? Don't you celebrate Christmas? You aren't one of those guys who waits until the last minute to admit Christmas has arrived?"

  "I don't celebrate," he told her.

  Her smile slipped. "Oh…sorry. I just assumed… I guess I assumed you did since your pub is decorated for the holiday."

  "Morris and Georgina's doing." He shrugged. They're in charge of making the pub festive. Christmas and Halloween seem to be their favorite times of the year."

  "So you don't celebrate Christmas. Are you Jewish? An atheist? I can't believe I've never asked you."

  "Neither," he said. "It's been a long time since I partook in any celebration, but at one time my family and I thought of Yule as a time to take stock of the past, and plan for the future. We never decorated the house with frivolous items."

  "But you aren't against Christmas, are you?" she asked and frowned. This was the part of the relationship where the starry eyes cleared and the real getting to know one another came into play. She could respect his beliefs as long as he didn't condemn her traditions. "I mean, you wouldn't mind me dragging home a tree and setting it up in your living room, would you?" She looped her hand through his again and they continued to walk.

  He glanced at her, those all so blue eyes studying her as he halted their steps once more. She buried her hands in her coat pockets. Despite wearing gloves, she was a tad bit chilled.

  He gripped the collar of her jacket and pulled her closer. "Did you know decorating a tree is a pagan ritual? It was believed each tree had a 'tree' spirit attached to it. So chopping down a tree seems… cruel."

  Her brows furrowed, but before she could dwell too long on his words, he leaned in and captured her lips. It didn't take too much coaxing for her to relax. She stepped into his embrace and pressed her body to his.

  She didn't care about Christmas when she was with him. She didn’t care about anything. The troubles of the world seemed to melt away. An illusion? Most likely, but when she had Tremayne at her side, when it came time to face the demons – literally and figuratively speaking – she knew he'd have her back and she'd have his.

  When they came up for air, his lips curved. "If you want me to drag a Christmas tree home, I will."

  She chuckled. "Will you let me put a Santa Claus blowup on your lawn, too?"

  "Now, you're pushing it," he said as he lifted his phone from his pocket. "Sorry, it's work."

  "No worries. I'll just look for that tree we're taking back to your place."

  She'd only taken a few steps, but stopped cold at the sound of Tremayne's voice. Something was terribly wrong.

  "You bastard," he hissed. "You better not harm them or I'll kill you. Of this I promise."

  She strode over to him.

  "Are you there. Dammit," he cursed as he stared at his phone. Obviously, whomever he'd been talking to had ended the call.

  "What's going on?" she asked. She'd never seen Tremayne so angry.

  "He has them."

  "Who?" she asked.

  "Gunthorn is at Eternal Bliss. He's cleared out the place, but he's holding Morris and Georgina hostage."

  "Oh God, no." She covered her mouth. She'd been so happy, she'd forgotten all about Gunthorn. "I thought the GOJ were on it?"

  "They are, but apparently Gunthorn's been clever enough to avoid capture."

  "What does he want?" she asked and dreaded the answer.

  "His trophies."

  Chapter Thirty

  Tremayne had no one to blame but himself. While he was playing human, Gunthorn had been stalking their every move, but he'd been too preoccupied with courting Cassandra to realize they were in danger.

  "We'll give him what he wants," Cassandra said. "It's not worth Morris and Georgina's—"

  They're already dead," Tremayne said.

  She shook her head. "You don't know that."

  "Don't I?" He met her gaze.

  Her hand rested on his forearm. "No, you don't. We have to play this smart. We can do this."

  He shook his head, but she was persistent.

  "You said it before, he wouldn't leave town without his souvenirs he's collected from each of his kills. He knows he won't get what he wants if he kills Morris and Georgina."

  "Maybe," he said and felt a boost of confidence that she might be right.

  "We need a plan," she said. "Are you with me, partner?"

  A half an hour later they had a plan. Would it work? He had no idea, but to do nothing was out of the question.

  Are you with me, partner? Tremayne thought of Cassandra's words as he stood across the way from Eternal Bliss. If she only knew. Her partner rested at the bottom of the ocean, but he couldn't dwell on it now. He had to focus. Lives depended on him, and he couldn't enter his pub as a hunter. He had to enter it as Oiche Sith, or they were all dead.

  He had every intention of telling Cassandra the truth. He just hadn't planned on it coming out this way.

  He glanced at his phone as the text from Cassandra flashed on his screen: I'm in position.

  Fifteen seconds later, he strode into the pub with his hands up to signify he was unarmed. A formality, since Gunthorn would know he didn't need a weapon. He was the weapon if he used his vampire strength.

  He took in the situation. Morris and Georgina had their hands bound, and each had a noose secured around their necks as they balanced themselves on the backrest of a chair appointed to them. Gunthorn stood to the side with the other end of the ropes wound around his waist. If Tremayne made a move to drop Gunthorn, the vamp's weight would lift Morris and Georgina off their feet.

  "So glad you could make it," Gunthorn said. "I was just getting to know your employees."

  Georgina's eyes were wide with fear. A tear slid down her face, but she didn't cry out. Morris looked roughed up, and Tremayne had a hunch he tried to fight off Gunthorn, for what little it did.

  "They're brave," Gunthorn said. "No wonder you like these humans so much."

  "Let them go," Tremayne demanded.

  "Thought we had a deal," Gunthorn said as his gaze slid over him. "But I don't see you carrying anything? Where are my trophies?" His voice turned cold.

  "Cassandra is retrieving them."

  "Don't play me for a fool, Tremayne," he said and backed up one step. Georgina and Morris started choking, their eyes wide as they tried to find their footing and couldn't.

  "Stop. I'm telling you the truth. We don't carry the trophies in our pockets."

  Gunthorn seemed to consider this a second and then slowly moved a step forward. Georgina and Morris found their footing once more. They coughed to catch their breaths.

  "Sit," Gunthorn demanded, and Tremayne pulled out a chair. "Lorelei wanted you dead," Gunthorn continued. "I can understand why now." When he didn't answer, Gunthorn added, "Don't you want to know why?"


  "Not particularly," Tremayne said.

  "I'll tell you anyway. You don't play by the rules."

  "That's rich, coming from you."

  "Preternatural rules," he said. You've lived among the humans so long, you've forgotten what it means to be a vampire." He chuckled. "Your girlfriend doesn't even know, does she?"

  She probably did now since she'd made her way in through the back and was most likely contemplating her move as Gunthorn yammered on, but he remained silent.

  "How good of a hunter could she be?" Gunthorn asked. "I mean, she can't even sniff out a vampire right under her –"

  Gunthorn didn't have a chance to finish his statement. Cassandra leapt over the bar with her sword, slicing through the rope and severing Gunthorn's hold on the hostages.

  Gunthorn stood rooted for a moment, in stupefied shock at being duped. Tremayne didn't waste any time. He flitted toward Gunthorn, his dagger slicing the vampire's neck.

  Gunthorn clutched his throat, but he wouldn't be able to heal fast enough. The dagger had been one of Cassandra's weapons, iron based, and Tremayne buried it deep inside the vampire's black heart.

  Gunthorn fell to the ground, his limbs frozen in place as he bled out.

  With the immediate threat neutralized, he glanced behind him to find Cassandra had freed Morris and Georgina. He strode over to his employees and ignored the pain in his chest when Cassandra backed away from him. Her expression as she stared at him, hurt worse than if she'd staked him, but he couldn't worry about what she was thinking right now. He had a hunch it bordered on ending his life along with Gunthorn's, but first things first.

  Morris had gathered a sobbing Georgina in his arms, and they huddled together in fear and confusion.

  "Look at me," he demanded Morris and Georgina to comply. His tone of authority and determination drew the couple's attention. "You will forget what happened," he told them and fabricated a plausible story for them to believe as the truth. He ended with: "You cleaned up and went home after a lovely night." He'd kept it simple. They'd already been through too much and he didn't want the glamour to cause any ill effects.