by Bianca D'Arc
Steve trusted his older brother to know just how much information to give the bloodletter. The truce between were and vampire in this part of the country was a little stronger than in other places, but there still wasn’t a lot of trust between the two supernatural races.
“Where?” Steve asked. He tried to keep his side of the conversation both low in volume and short in duration. He didn’t want to wake up his mate if he had a choice.
“A few blocks down from the club. In an alley,” Grif reported. “Nobody would’ve known but for a minion of Tony’s who’d been following Jorge on Tony’s orders. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was taking care of the situation. The last time I talked to him was to lodge a formal complaint about Jorge harassing some of the young female wolves. He propositioned them, hoping one would be foolish enough to agree to let him drink from her. Shifter blood is like a drug to vamps. I think Jorge was looking for a fix, and I warned Tony about the potential problem. No way was I going to let that bloodsucker prey on our people.”
Steve had known about the incident with the young wolves, but he hadn’t been privy to the details of the conversation between the two leaders until now. He was glad to know that Tony had taken Grif’s words seriously enough to have his own man watched. Such actions boded well for the ongoing relationship between Las Vegas’s shifter and vamp populations.
“The tail didn’t see who got Jorge?” Steve asked in low tones.
“Got there too late. Whoever did it was fast and silent. Which I think is why Tony called. He probably half-suspected you, or one of our other Clansmen seen at the bar, had done it. I assured him that all our people’s movements were accounted for. To convince him, I had to tell him about the humans being drugged.”
“What was his reaction?” Sometimes a lot could be gleaned from what the vampire didn’t say, Steve knew. He’d had his share of dealings with Tony since moving to Las Vegas.
“That’s why I’m calling. He said he’s seen something like what I described before. Apparently one of the younger vamps was given wine laced with something similar two weeks ago. She got very sick from it and only just recovered a couple of days ago. Tony questioned her and discovered she’d been approached a few days before she fell ill, by a warlock who knew exactly what she was and wanted to know more about her magical abilities. She didn’t tell him much, but they flirted. Apparently, the warlock appealed to her and she considered drinking from him but decided against it after their conversation turned odd and began to make her suspicious.”
“Did he get a description?”
“Yeah. She drew him. Luckily, she’s something of an artist. I already have a copy of the sketch and I just emailed it to you. Take a look. I’ll wait.”
Steve turned his smart phone over and brought up the image on the tiny screen. It was enough. He cursed under his breath as his jaw tightened. He held the phone back to his ear to tell Grif what he knew.
“I’ve seen him before. Last night, at the bar, he was definitely there, but he didn’t approach the women, so I thought nothing of it until just now. And I saw the same guy on our surveillance footage of the incident a few weeks ago with the raptor girls. Remember Joseline and Fedora reported being followed by something that gave them the creeps, but they couldn’t see? They were able to shift and fly away. I got footage of the area—one of the casino security officers owed me a favor—and I studied all the faces, but I couldn’t tell from the tape who it was that menaced the girls,” Steve reminded his brother. “This guy, though, he was on the tape.”
“And in the bar,” Grif repeated, accusation clear in his tone.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “We need to find out who he is and why he’s preying on magical young women.”
“Well, we already know one thing. He’s a warlock. The vamps have given us that much. And Tony’s already got his people working on finding the guy. He said he’d work with us on this. Actually, he wanted our help in tracking the warlock down. I agreed. I’m even gladder I did now after what you’ve just told me.”
“Yeah,” Steve repeated. “I’ll forward the image to everyone on my teams, but I think we need to go one step further and circulate the sketch to everyone in the Clan—especially the young females.”
“Agreed. I’ll issue the warning and sketch. You handle the security teams.” Grif paused slightly. “How are things with your lady? Is she feeling all right after all the excitement?”
“She’s resilient,” Steve was proud to say, though he didn’t want to go into details—not even with his brother. The relationship was too new. Too precious to him. Steve didn’t really want to discuss his mate with anyone just yet. “She’ll be okay. She’s sleeping now, but I’m sure as soon as she wakes she’s going to want to go check on her friends.”
“They’re doing fine. Sleeping it off. I’ve been getting regular updates from Kate. She’s watching over them like a mother hen.”
“Have you slept at all?” Steve was concerned for his brother. The Alpha was, by nature, the strongest of them all, but even he needed to sleep sometimes.
“Cat naps,” Grif chuckled. “It’s enough for now. I already promised my mate a weekend at the lake when this is over. She and I both need a little break from Clan life and some time alone.”
It was odd for an Alpha werecat to have amassed such a large family of shifters around himself, but Grif had done it. Cats liked to roam and be by themselves sometimes, but the Redstone brothers had managed to keep the larger Clan together by taking turns and filling in for each other when they felt the need to let their wildcat run free.
“That sounds nice. We’ll cover for you, as usual,” Steve said automatically.
Grif chuckled on the other end of the line. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m pretty sure you’ll be heading for the hills with your mate too, once she’s out of danger. One of the others will cover for us both.”
Steve liked the sound of that. A weekend—or however long he could manage—alone somewhere peaceful with his mate. Yeah, big brother knew what he was talking about. The more Steve thought about it, the more he realized Grif was right. As soon as this situation was resolved, he was going to take Trisha somewhere. Just the two of them. Alone. Together.
It already sounded like paradise.
“Yeah, you got me there,” Steve admitted. “It’s still kind of new to be thinking in terms of having a mate.”
“You get used to it,” Grif commiserated. “In fact, you’ll begin to wonder how you ever handled anything alone, once you realize how much help a mate can be.”
“I look forward to it,” Steve said with a grin. It was a nice thing to think about—not being alone anymore. Oh, he’d had his family, but cats liked to go their own way and have their own space.
Not anymore. Now all Steve could think about was sharing each moment, each day, each breath, with Trisha.
They ended the call shortly thereafter, each off to do the tasks they’d discussed. Steve was able to send out the image and the alert to everyone on his team using just his phone. The Clan had gone hi-tech years ago and kept pace with every advancement in electronics and communication. It was a hobby of Steve’s, in particular. He had a little workshop in the basement filled with all sorts of toys and doo-dads, and he spent time tinkering down there whenever he had a chance.
As he finished up sending the message, the bedroom door opened. Trisha was standing there wrapped in a sheet, sleepy eyed and deliciously rumpled.
“What time is it?” She rubbed her eyes and then pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, holding onto the sheet with the other.
“Almost dawn.”
“Why are you standing out here playing with your phone? Someone call?”
“Yeah, my brother Grif had some news. The vampire who tried to seduce you and your friends last night was killed shortly thereafter.”
“Wait. There was a vampire? Are those things even real?” She shook her head. “Of course they are. You’re real. And so am I. Darnit all. So
mebody died last night?” She looked a little unsteady on her feet and almost adorably confused, but not knowing basic stuff about their world could be very dangerous. He had a great deal to tell her about.
“Why don’t we go downstairs and I can make some coffee or something. There’s a lot to discuss.”
What followed was an hour of talking, seated at his kitchen table while she learned the ins and outs of the supernatural world. When they got down to the specifics of what had happened to Jorge, he discovered her compassionate nature, which didn’t really surprise him at all.
“I hate to think this Jorge guy was killed just because he approached us. That seems a bit extreme.” She sipped at the tall glass of water she’d refilled twice already. She certainly seemed to thrive on the stuff.
“He wasn’t a good guy. He’s been warned before about his bad behavior and that’s why the Master vamp of the area had him followed. That turned out good for us because now we know we can eliminate him as a suspect in this situation and—” he emphasized the word as he refilled his glass with orange juice, “—I don’t have to worry about him harassing anyone ever again. Or worse.”
“Was he really that bad?”
“The Master thought enough about our complaints to have him watched. That says something. Tony wouldn’t have acted on our words alone, I don’t think. He probably had his own feelings on the matter. Vamps don’t really move around a lot. They settle in a place for fifty years or more, usually. So the fact that Jorge had relocated several times in the past few years didn’t bode well for him from the start.”
She drained her glass and stood to refill it. “You have a filtration system on this tap, right?” she asked as she filled the glass at his kitchen sink.
“Installed it myself,” he answered with some satisfaction. “Weres have sensitive taste buds as well as noses. Most of us filter out the chemicals the municipal water supply adds to our homes. Or we drill our own wells, but that can be problematic too, depending on what part of the country we’re in. Not all groundwater is clean.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s one of the things I can do,” she admitted with seeming shyness. Steve was intrigued.
“You can purify water?” he asked carefully, not wanting to seem too eager with his questioning. She would tell him what she wanted him to know. He just had to be patient.
“I can call springs. I sense water. I know where it is and if it’s clean or not. If it’s not, I can make it flow places that will clean it—through limestone deposits or sand or whatnot. For instance, I know where the water lies deep underground here. It’s very far down, but there’s a surprising amount of it for the climate. I wouldn’t have expected so much hiding under a desert.
“Really?” Steve was impressed. He tried not to make a big deal out of her words, hoping she’d open up more.
“I can also call rain from the sky. If there are clouds, I can coax them into releasing their bounty.”
“I bet you really enjoy the ocean, huh?” He almost didn’t want to hear her answer because he lived in a desert.
If he had to move to the coast to make his mate happy, he’d do it, but he’d really miss his family and he didn’t want to let them down. He was second-in-command here. If he left, it would leave the Clan diminished. His other brothers would have to step up and most of them were off on their own at the moment, being tomcats. He understood and he wanted to give his younger brothers their time to roam, but his mate’s happiness had to come first.
“Actually, the ocean is a little…overwhelming is the word, I guess. Dad says you get used to it, but I never really have.”
“Is it the salt water? I thought you liked my pool out back.” Steve was trying his best to understand her, but her abilities were like nothing he’d ever imagined.
“No, I really like salt water. It’s softer on my skin and more buoyant. But the ocean is full of life. Life like you can’t even imagine. And I can sense it all. I can talk to some of them too. Dolphins have really good senses of humor. Whales are more grown-up, except for some of the smaller species. And some of those turtles can be downright depressing. They don’t see the world the way we do. It’s interesting, but it’s a lot to take in.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a mermaid?” He sent her a smile, hoping his casual attitude and humor would put her even more at ease. He liked that she was opening up to him. He sensed this wasn’t stuff she talked about with just anyone.
“Nah.” She smiled and wiggled the toes on one foot. “No tail, see?” Then she sobered. “They’re not real too, are they?”
Steve had to laugh. “You’d know better than I, sweetheart. I don’t spend a lot of time in the ocean, though I do love the water.” He drank the last of his juice and put the glass in the sink. “Selkies now, they are real. Your dad might know some of them. A few of them are Navy SEALs. I think they like the irony.”
Trisha laughed and the sound enchanted him. “Selkies are men that turn into seals, right? I think I read a book about Ireland once that mentioned the myth.”
“More than myth,” Steve confirmed. “Those dudes are badass. But they don’t hide their skins like in the old legends. That’s all bunk. They’re shifters, just like the rest of us.” He reconsidered his words and added a caveat. “Well, maybe they have a little more magic than most.”
“Dad never called what we do magic. It sounds like a parlor trick when you use that word, even though I know you’re serious.” She tilted her head and looked kind of adorably embarrassed. “I don’t mean to belittle your beliefs. This is all just a little hard to get used to. I was raised thinking I was a lone freak in a world of mostly normal people.
“First of all, you’re not a freak. You are a wonderfully magical woman with an affinity for water. And if you exist, why didn’t you think others like you, but with different abilities, could exist? And I didn’t take offense, by the way. I know this is all new to you.”
“Dad always said we were the only ones. He never entertained my fantasies about magic and wizards and such when I was a girl. He pretty much outlawed that kind of stuff in our house. Ask Deke.”
Steve frowned and then sighed. “You know we’re going to have to come clean with him sooner or later. Trisha…” He hesitated, not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say and worried that it was too soon to talk of the future. But the cat inside him clawed at him to speak the words of claim. He’d obey the cat—to a point. “I feel things for you,” he said, not sure where to go from there. He tried again. “Shifters usually know right away when they’ve met someone special.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn’t coming out right at all. “Trish, what I’m trying to say is that I think you’re special. To me. Special to me. And that what we’ve started here is just that. A start. It’s not a fling or a casual anything. It’s serious. Something I treasure and want to continue.”
He rested his hand on the table and she reached out and covered it with one of her own. Her fingers were so small and delicate compared to his. Everything about her enchanted him. Especially her smile as she met his gaze. It gave him hope.
“I’m really glad you said that, because I’m feeling things for you that I’ve never felt for anyone else. Strange things. Magical things—in the best possible sense of the word. It’s like we were meant to make love and be friends.”
“I want to be more than friends, Trisha.” He couldn’t help the way his voice dropped into the rumble range. It was the cat purring inside him at the female’s positive response.
“I think I want that too. I don’t understand it, and I’ve never had this kind of reaction to anyone before in my life, but I’d really like to see where it goes—if you’re feeling the same way, that is.”
Her uncertainty almost made him laugh, but he wouldn’t embarrass her like that. He didn’t want her to misunderstand his reactions. Not now. Not at such an important juncture.
He set his chair back from the table and took her hand, coaxing her to stand and come
over to him and then sit on his lap. She followed where he led until she was ensconced in his arms, her luscious thighs spread as she straddled him. He claimed her mouth gently, rubbing their bodies together. It was a tender kiss. A kiss of gentle possession that spoke of his desire and respect for her.
“I definitely feel the same way,” he murmured against her lips when he finally let them both come up for air. “I have never felt the mating urge before, but it hit me the moment your real scent hit me.”
“Scent, huh? When was this?” She drew a few inches away to look into his eyes, one of her delicate eyebrows raised in skepticism.
“After you took that shower at the Pack house. Before that, the chemical was fouling your scent. When you scrubbed it away and your real scent was revealed, well, my knees went weak. I knew then that you were special. Trisha, I think you’re my mate.”
There it was. His heart on a platter, if she only recognized it.
“Mate, huh? That means something special among your people, doesn’t it?” Her expression was very serious and somewhat closed to him, which made him uncomfortable. He hoped he hadn’t said too much.
“It’s very special. As special as you are,” he answered obliquely, kissing her nose and setting her away.
She cooperated, standing when he did, though he would’ve given anything to keep her on his lap and maybe have some kitchen sex to start their day. But the conversation had gotten out of his control and he panicked. Time to change the subject. He needed something to throw her off the trail.
“Do you want to call Deke or shall I?”
Yeah, that did the trick. Her expression went from speculative to frowning in the blink of an eye. She didn’t want to call her brother. That much was obvious. But Steve knew the longer they put it off, the angrier Deke would be. Better to deal with him now, while the situation was still salvageable. Somewhat.
“I guess I’d better. I don’t want to, you understand.” She pointed her finger at him, which he thought was cute. “I’ll take a shower, dress and then we can call him together. I’ll want you nearby for him to yell at when he starts to boil over. Deal?”