The Renegade Hunter

by Lynsay Sands

Chapter Four

 

  Fate was a fickle bitch with a very bad sense of humor, Nicholas decided, lying on the cot in his cell and staring up at the ceiling. Here he was, caught and about to meet his Maker, and Madam Fate throws a life mate at him just to muddy the waters. How sick and twisted was that?

  He grimaced at the ceiling, his ears straining to hear any sounds of movement in the building. Mortimer and Bricker had arrived not long after Jo had slipped away in search of keys. Since there had been no uproar or stir after they'd left him, it seemed obvious her presence hadn't been discovered. She must have hidden, he supposed, and wondered why he hadn't warned the men of her presence.

  That would have been the responsible thing to do, Nicholas knew. Her being here and the fact that she'd regained the memories that Decker had wiped could cause problems. However, Nicholas hadn't been willing to give up the opportunity to talk with her again, maybe even steal another kiss, and possibly even escape. He'd like to take her with him, but he had nothing to offer her except life on the run, and that was no life for a woman like Jo. He could already tell she was the free-spirited type, and they couldn't be free-spirited when they were on the run. They had to be cautious and careful about every little thing they did.

  Mind you, he hadn't been much of either lately, Nicholas acknowledged. He'd been taking too many chances and too many risks. It was what had gotten him caught this time and nearly got him caught at the beginning of summer. But he couldn't regret what he'd done in either instance. Even if he died tomorrow, Nicholas wouldn't regret saving Jo from Ernie. The rogue would have either killed her, or hurt her badly and gone after Dani and her sister, or have simply taken Jo back to his father. None of those conclusions was acceptable to him. He might not be able to claim Jo as his life mate, but Nicholas would do what he could to keep her safe while he could.

  Unfortunately, that meant he couldn't explain the situation to her. Not that Nicholas had it in him to tell her the truth anyway. He had no desire to see the horror and disgust enter her eyes when she learned what he'd done fifty years ago. If she even believed him and didn't simply decide he was spaced out on drugs or just plain crazy. After all, he didn't look like he could have been around for fifty years, and explaining the whole I'm-a-vampire bit wasn't likely to be that believable to her.

  Nicholas smiled faintly at the thought of her expression if he tried to explain that. Really, I am a vampire, but a good vampire. . . except for that one time I murdered an innocent.

  He grimaced. Yeah, except for that one inexplicable evil deed he'd performed while in the throes of grief, he was a swell guy.

  The slam of the outer door caught his ear, and Nicholas opened his eyes, straining to listen for other sounds in the building, but the steady hum of Mortimer and Bricker's voices from the office was gone. Absolute silence seemed to resound from the hall. He waited another moment, but there wasn't any noise at all now except for his own breathing.

  Nicholas was starting to worry that his life mate had decided to leave him to his fate and had slipped back to the safety of the house when he heard the soft "shush" of air being moved as a door opened. It was followed by the scuff of someone walking quickly, and Nicholas smiled to himself. He was sure it was Jo and that she was still here. It might be selfish of him, but he was glad. He could talk with her a little bit and maybe learn something about this woman who could have been his salvation had he not made one stupid, irreconcilable mistake all those years ago.

  Standing, he moved to the bars to peer out. She appeared just moments after he reached them, expression fretful and eyes nervous as she hurried down the hall toward him.

  "I couldn't get the keys, Bricker has them," Jo babbled as she approached. "But I found these and think I can pick the lock. "

  "Pick it?" Nicholas asked doubtfully.

  "Yes. I worked as a locksmith's assistant the summer between high school and university. He taught me a few tricks. I can do this," she assured him, dropping to her knees in front of his cell door. She examined the lock briefly and then grimaced. "It might take me a little time, but I can do it. . . and if not, I'll go back and get the axe and just chop through the wall. "

  Nicholas found himself smiling for no reason. Really, the woman was adorable, he thought, and asked, "So you've worked with a locksmith and now manage a bar. What else have you done in your short life?"

  Jo paused and raised her eyebrows as she met his gaze. "My short life? You make it sound like I'm a kid and you're an old man. You're what? Maybe twenty-seven or so?"

  "Or so," he muttered, mentally adding, Give or take five hundred and thirty-three years. "So what else have you done?"

  Jo shrugged, her attention back on the lock as she stuck her tools in and fiddled with the inner workings. Her voice was absent when she said, "Loads of things. What about you?"

  "Loads of things," Nicholas echoed wryly, and suspected he'd worked a hell of a lot more jobs than she had.

  "Are you married?"

  That question surprised Nicholas, and he glanced away as the usual shaft of pain shot through him at the thought of his late wife. Oddly enough, for the first time in fifty years, the pain wasn't crushing. The memories of his Annie and losing her hurt, but not with the brutality he was used to. His gaze shifted back to Jo. She was concentrating on the lock, but paused to raise a suspicious eyebrow his way.

  "Are you?" she asked.

  Nicholas shook his head, but then admitted, "Widowed. "

  Surprise flashed across her face, and then she turned her gaze back to the lock, murmuring, "My sympathies. "

  "It was a long time ago," he said quietly, and for the first time, it felt like that was true. It had been fifty years since Nicholas had lost his Annie, but for most of those fifty years the loss had felt as raw as if it were just yesterday. Yet now. . . His gaze slid to Jo and he frowned, feeling guilt writhe in his gut at the knowledge that he was finally letting go of his grief and moving on with life.

  "You must have been babies when you married if she's been dead awhile," Jo murmured, squinting into the lock as she worked her tools.

  He didn't comment to that, but instead asked, "Do you have a boyfriend or-"

  "Nope," she interrupted. "No time. Full-time school and full-time work kind of leaves little time for guys. Besides, I see the worst of man at work. "

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows at the comment. He'd thought being a rogue hunter showed him the worst of mankind, but she sounded pretty certain. "How's that?"

  Jo shrugged. "Given enough alcohol, even the nicest guy is an ass. You'd be amazed how many guys come in with their girlfriends, have a spat, and then when she marches out all upset, he leaves with another girl. Then he'd show up the next week with the original girlfriend again, who's probably completely ignorant that he was messing around the week before. Or-and this one just bugs my ass," she paused to add with a disgusted sneer before finishing, "there's no spat and they're all 'coochie coo I love you,' but the minute the girlfriend heads off to the bathroom, he's hitting on other girls. "

  "Hmm," Nicholas murmured, thinking stories like that were enough to make him glad he was an immortal and immortals tended to be monogamous.

  "And the women are just as bad," Jo continued. "I always thought it was just the guys who screwed around, but I've learned different. The gals are just smarter about it. More cautious and discreet, not as loud or obvious so that you aren't really aware they're flirting, but then they disappear to the bathroom for a bit, and return rearranging their clothes and a smirking guy following doing up his pants. "

  "The same women whose men are hitting on other women while they're gone?" Nicholas asked curiously, thinking perhaps that explained the men's behavior. Maybe they had some sort of agreement, he thought, but Jo shook her head.

  "That's the weird thing. As far as I can tell, cheat ers rarely hook up with cheaters. It's like they recognize their own and avoid them, because Lord knows a cheater wouldn't wan
t to be cheated on," she said wryly. "It seems like one is always faithful and the other does the cuckolding. . . Although it does occasionally happen where they're both stepping out on the other. I prefer seeing that. I figure they deserve each other. "

  "It sounds. . . " Nicholas hesitated. It sounded like her job at the bar had given her a very dim view of her fellow man and woman.

  "Got it!" Jo exclaimed.

  Nicholas had heard the click before her triumphant announcement and now watched with wonder as she withdrew her tools and stood to pull the door open. She did so with a little flourish, waving her hand and bowing as she gestured him out. It made him smile, but instead of stepping out and moving past her, he stood in front of her and waited for her to glance up before reaching for her, saying, "It seems now I owe you a thank-you. "

  Jo blinked in surprise. She'd expected Nicholas to rush out and flee as fast as his feet would carry him the moment she had the cell door open, but instead he caught her arms and drew her forward, his head descending toward hers. She didn't resist. Thank-yous were nice. . . at least with Nicholas. She already knew that and wasn't adverse to enjoying more passionate thank-yous with him, she thought, and then his mouth was covering hers and she was overwhelmed by the same amazing passion she'd experienced earlier.

  Damn, he was a fine kisser, definitely worthy of the title rogue, Jo thought, letting the tools she held drop from her fingers so that she could slide her hands around his back. She hardly heard the varying clangs as the tools hit the hard concrete. Her mind was consumed by the waves of passion building and rolling through her, each one slamming against her brain with more strength as his mouth devoured hers. She wasn't aware of Nicholas moving, but suddenly felt the cold metal of bars against her back and briefly opened her eyes to see that he'd backed her up against the cell door opposite his, and then her eyes closed again on a moan as he pinned her there with his body, grinding his hips against her.

  When his hands cupped her breasts through her top, Jo arched her back, pressing herself into the touch. Her hands moved to cover his, and she squeezed them encouragingly before reaching to run her own hands over his chest, wishing he wasn't wearing the shirt and she could touch his naked flesh. It was a rather startling thought for Jo. She wasn't a prude or a virgin, but she hardly knew this guy. In fact, other than his name, the fact that he was a widower and that he'd risked himself to help her, she didn't know a thing about him. But her body was acting like it knew him very well, or wanted to. She wanted to. She wanted to know every naked inch of him. She wanted-

  Jo's thoughts died on a gasp as Nicholas suddenly tugged her T-shirt upward, baring her breasts. She wasn't big on bras. They all had ribs and wires and all sorts of nasty little things to dig into a body. Other than wearing them to work, she tended to avoid them and hadn't worn one tonight. Jo was very glad she hadn't when Nicholas covered one naked orb with his hand and then broke their kiss to bend his head and claim the other with his mouth.

  "Oh God," Jo gasped, curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. This was. . . this was. . . She gave up trying to think what this was when his teeth and tongue came into action, his teeth catching the tender nipple and holding it as his tongue rasped over the sensitive nub.

  Damn he was good, Jo thought, and she, who had never had a one-night stand in her life, decided they needed to move into one of the cells and put the cot to good use. Now, she thought as his leg suddenly slid between both of hers, rubbing against her and raising their passion to a whole new level. Growling with need, Jo tugged at his hair, demanding he stop what he was doing and kiss her before she absolutely exploded right there on the spot.

  Nicholas let her nipple slip from his mouth and lifted his head at once to claim her lips, but his kiss was less than soothing. His tongue thrust into her mouth in imitation of what she was beginning to desperately hope would follow on that cot, and his hand replaced his mouth at her breast, his thumb and finger plucking gently and then rubbing soothingly.

  "Nicholas," Jo gasped when he broke the kiss to run his mouth along her cheek to her ear. "I need. . . ohh," she moaned as he rubbed his leg against her more firmly. "Yes. . . I. . . what's that?"

  He stilled at once and then turned his head toward the end of the hall, where muffled voices could be heard. .

  "Christ," Nicholas muttered, and they broke apart at once, both of them quickly straightening their clothes.

  Jo started to slide into the empty cell beside them then, her only thought to hide. But Nicholas caught her hand and shook his head and tugged her behind him as he started up the hall, saying, "They're in the garage. "

  "What are you doing?" Jo hissed with alarm when she realized they were moving toward the voices.

  Nicholas merely glanced back and placed a silencing finger to his lips and then continued forward, staying close to the wall.

  Jo closed her eyes briefly, thinking the man must be mad, but followed silently. They were nearly to the end of the hall before they could see the men in the other part of the building. Two of the six garage doors were open, the nearest one and the one farthest away. Three men stood talking in the open far door behind one of the SUVs. Jo recognized Bricker and two of the men she'd been introduced to at the party tonight.

  "What-?" she began, but Nicholas pressed a finger to her lips.

  "Wait here," he whispered, and then was gone.

  Jo glanced around with confusion that only grew when she saw him disappearing into the office, still in a crouch. The man moved fast. She had barely turned to peer worriedly back into the garage when he was suddenly beside her again, slipping something into his pocket.

  "My receiver," he explained. "They took it when they locked me up. "

  "What's a receiver?" Jo asked with confusion and then shook her head. That didn't really matter at this point. She was more concerned about getting caught and hissed in a whisper, "Bricker could come in here. We need to hide. "

  Nicholas shook his head. "I need to leave. "

  "What? But-" Jo began with alarm, and then gasped in surprise as Nicholas dropped to his haunches, pulling her down beside him so that they were out of sight.

  "This is the only way I'm going to get out of here," he said gently, raising a hand to brush his fingers lightly along her cheek.

  Jo frowned. "But-"

  This time he silenced her by kissing her quickly, and it was quick, just a swift brushing of his lips over hers. Nicholas then pulled back and whispered, "Thank you for freeing me. "

  Jo tried to speak, but he shifted his thumb to cover her lips and added, "They'll probably wipe your memory of me when they realize you still have it, but I want you to know I'll never forget you. . . and if you ever need me, I'll be there. "

  Nicholas then kissed her again, another gentle brushing of lips, and Jo let her eyes drift closed. When she opened them, he was already gone, slipping through the door to the garage in a crouch.

  "Crap," Jo whispered with dismay, and waited for the inevitable shout as he was spotted. When no shout came, she hesitated and then moved swiftly to the door in a crouch. She took a deep breath and began to ease it open, freezing when it was still merely cracked and she spotted Nicholas on the floor beside the first SUV, slipping under the vehicle. She watched until he disappeared and then started to rise, thought better of it, and instead eased the door closed again and moved at a crouch into the office. Once in the safety of the shadows there, she raised herself up to peer through the windows into the garage.

  Jo was just in time to see the men finish their conversation and break apart. Bricker immediately headed out of the garage and out of sight, but one of the two remaining men moved to the SUV they'd been standing behind while the other crossed the garage to the vehicle she'd seen Nicholas disappear under. Jo watched as first the far vehicle backed out and disappeared from view, but when the nearer vehicle did as well and the two doors began to drop closed, Jo quickly moved to peer out the window that ove
rlooked the backyard.

  By that time the first SUV had already turned itself around and headed up the drive, but she was in time to watch the second SUV do the same, and Jo bit her lip, scanning the bottom of the vehicle for any sign of Nicholas, but it was dark out and, if he was there, she couldn't see him.

  That thought made her rush out of the office to the door leading into the garage. Jo pushed it open and peered at the empty spot where the first SUV had been, then ran along the vehicles just to be sure, but Nicholas wasn't there. Pausing at the end of the garage, she leaned weakly against the wall for a moment, hardly able to believe he was gone. But then she just as quickly straightened and started back along the garage, telling herself that she shouldn't be shocked that he'd left so abruptly, it was how he'd entered her life. Besides, what had she expected? Declarations of undying love because she'd set him free and kissed him a couple of times? A marriage proposal? A happily-ever-after?

  Jeez, she needed to get a grip, Jo thought with self-disgust. The guy was a rogue. He probably kissed gals all the time. . . loads of them. . . and a lot of kisses each. The guy had certainly been good at it, and you didn't get that good without lots of practice, she was sure.

  Sighing, she headed for the door, intending to leave, but then decided she'd best wait. If she was spotted coming out of the building, they'd probably check the cells and find Nicholas was gone, then stop the vehicles, and he'd be caught once more. If that happened, Jo definitely didn't think she'd be allowed anywhere near the garage again.

  If she even remembered Nicholas, Jo thought with a frown as she recalled his saying that once they knew he was missing they'd realize she had her memories back and probably wipe them again. She didn't like that idea at all. Wiping her memory. . . How had they done that? Jo didn't doubt for a minute that they had, but how they'd done it was what bothered her.

  It must be some sort of machine, she thought, and turned to peer first into the office and then toward the garage, wondering if she should search for a possible machine that might be used for that. It would help her kill some time while she waited to give Nicholas the chance to get away. . . and if she found it, Jo thought grimly, she'd destroy it and keep her damned memory, thank you very much.

  Jo started in the office, feeling her way through the room like a blind woman on an Easter egg hunt. It was a great relief to finish in there and move into the lit areas of the building. She was heading for the garage when she recalled the tools she'd left outside the cell. Jo turned in that direction and hurried up the hall to collect them. She then carried them into the garage and quickly replaced them where she'd found them before starting a search of the garage.

  Jo was quicker about this search. The light in the garage made it easier, but she was also hurrying more. She was sure Nicholas was probably off the property by now. The only thing that kept her there was the possibility of finding the machine they used to wipe memories, but the fact was Jo didn't really have a clue what she was looking for. She had no idea what it looked like or even how big it was. For all she knew it was a shot of some drug that was given to make the person more susceptible to suggestion and that the suggestion was then given to the person to forget all about certain things.

  When she reached the end of the garage without finding anything, Jo decided she'd have to give it up and head inside. She moved to the nearest garage door and rose up on tiptoe to peer out. When she found the yard was again empty, Jo made her way quickly back into the entry hall and then to the door. , She slid it open just enough to slip out, and then drew it closed and started quickly across the yard at a jog that was a flat-out run by the time she reached the house.

  What Jo really wanted to do was to walk around the house, get in her car, and get the heck out of there before it was discovered Nicholas was missing, but she couldn't. She'd ridden in with Alex. It was all right though, she reassured herself. Nicholas had told her that Mortimer would never hurt her or Sam. So she would stay as planned, wait for Nicholas's absence to be discovered, and face the music like a grown-up.

  Although, Jo thought, she really would rather just get the hell out of there. While Mortimer might not hurt her, he was definitely not going to be pleased that she'd let Nicholas go and she wasn't looking for ward to his anger when he figured out she'd been the one to help him.

  Grimacing at this sudden streak of cowardice running through her, Jo shook her head and slid into the house. She could hear voices coming from somewhere at the front of the house. It sounded like Sam and Mortimer talking, and Jo found herself glancing at the kitchen clock as she moved through the room. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw that it was nearly three a. m. Her surprise wasn't because it was that late, but because it was that early. While it had been after midnight when she'd stepped outside for a walk, so much had happened since then that Jo wouldn't have been surprised to find it was nearly dawn. It felt like she'd lived a lifetime in the past few hours.

  She moved silently up the hall to the stairwell, her heart beating a rapid tattoo, and was relieved when she made it up the stairs without encountering anyone. Jo was just thinking she'd get to her room and be able to avoid all this business until morning when the front door suddenly opened behind her. Freezing on the top stair, Jo turned and glanced down toward the door, a sudden wave of wariness rolling over her as she saw the man entering. Tall, blond, and grim as death, he had already spotted her before he lifted his first foot over the threshold, and he was looking at her with the same intense stare she'd suffered all night as Sam had introduced her to the men at the party.

  Jo shifted uncomfortably under his piercing glare, her eyes sliding to the door of her guest room and the haven it offered, but before she could move, the blond said, "Come downstairs, Josephine. I need to decide what to do with you. "

  Jo blinked at him in surprise, startled that the stranger knew her name, and then her gaze slid to the doorway to the living room as Mortimer suddenly appeared there.

  "Lucian?" he said with surprise and then glanced to Jo at the top of the stairs. He frowned when he spotted her. "Jo? You should be asleep. What are you doing still up?"

  "She just came from setting Nicholas free," the man Mortimer had called Lucian announced.

  Jo's jaw dropped at the words, and then her eyes shifted to Mortimer as he cursed and started up the hall toward the back of the house.

  "Don't bother," Lucian growled, bringing him to a halt. "He's long gone. "

  Mortimer turned back, and then moved quickly to the door of the living room as Sam appeared there, her worried gaze seeking out Jo.

  "Josephine Lea Willan. What have you done?" Sam asked with alarm, and Jo grimaced at the use of her full name. She knew she was in trouble when Sam brought out the big guns, and using the full name had always been considered a big gun in their home while growing up.

  "I set him free," Jo said defiantly. "And why shouldn't I? I don't know what the hell's going on here, but Mortimer had no right to lock up Nicholas like he's some criminal. He's not a cop or anything, and Nicholas didn't do anything wrong. "

  "Oh, Jo," Sam breathed, and then leaned into Mortimer when he slid an arm around her waist. Jo couldn't help but notice, though, that her sister's worried gaze was on this Lucian, person, as if her main concern was what he might do.

  Mortimer was also looking at the man, appearing to await something from him, Jo noted, and reluctantly turned her own gaze his way. It appeared this Lucian was the one in charge. A pity, she decided. He looked like a big meanie and his glare was making it hard for her to hold on to her defiance and not fidget nervously like a teenager caught returning after curfew.

  "She is Nicholas's life mate," Lucian said suddenly.

  Mortimer cursed and Sam muttered, "Oh crap," but Jo scowled at the man and asked, "What is a life mate?" She'd heard the term before from Mortimer and Bricker, but that had been in reference to Sam. She had just assumed it was the same thing as a girlfriend and she definitely didn't f
eel she could call herself Nicholas's girlfriend. A couple of kisses did not a girlfriend make.

  Much to her annoyance the man remained silent, his gaze solemn and intent, and Jo found herself grinding her teeth with frustration. Really, Mortimer had seemed all right up north in cottage country, but she was beginning to rethink her opinion of him. If a person was judged by his friends, he must be a weirdo because his friends were certainly strange.

  A sudden snort of laughter slid from Lucian and he stopped staring at her to turn to Sam. "I like her. She's feisty like my Leigh. Tell her she may go to bed. "

  Sam's eyes widened and she glanced uncertainly from Lucian to Mortimer. When Mortimer nodded encouragingly, she cleared her throat and glanced to Jo. "Umm. . . Jo?"

  "Yeah, yeah, go to bed," Jo muttered, and spun away to head up the hall. She slowed, however, once she was out of sight of the railing and paused to listen. Much as she was relieved to get away from the penetrating stare of the man below, she wanted to hear what he would say next.

  "Is she really Nicholas's life mate?" Jo heard Sam ask quietly, and frowned at the worry in her voice.

  "Yes," Lucian said. "Which works in our favor. "

  "How?" Mortimer asked quietly.

  "He won't be able to stay away from her. "

  Jo's eyes widened at that proclamation. She felt a moment's excitement at the prospect of possibly seeing Nicholas again, but it was quickly washed away and replaced with alarm when Lucian added, "Put two men on her when she leaves here tomorrow, Mortimer. He'll show up eventually. "

  "You want to use my sister as bait?" Sam asked in a voice that was suddenly steel with anger. Jo was actually glad to hear it. Sam had seemed a bit alarmed and uncertain during the last few minutes, which was unusual for her. She was normally the "most efficient and iron-willed lawyer chick. " The uncertain and anxious Sam had been rather worrying to Jo, and she would have given her sister a high five if she could have when Sam said, "I won't have it. "

  "You'd rather we wipe her memory and refuse to allow you to see her?" Lucian asked, annoying Jo all over again. Who the hell did this guy think he was? No one was going to keep her from seeing her sister.

  Jo heard Sam curse and then Lucian said, "Let's move this conversation into the library. Jo's heard more than enough of it already. "

  Her eyebrows flew up at those words, and she couldn't resist easing up to the rail to peer down into the hall. Three pairs of eyes stared back.

  "Go to bed," Lucian said firmly. "You are very tired. "

  And suddenly Jo was tired, and bed seemed the most desirable place in the world. Turning dutifully away, she moved up the hall to the door to her guest bedroom and went inside. She was undressed and in bed before it occurred to her to wonder how she could have gone from wired and tense one moment to relaxed and exhausted the next. Jo fell asleep before she could worry about it too much.