Morgana sniffed the air trying to pick up the human’s scent again. She leaped to another tree, and the scent grew stronger. Following her nose, she reached the edge of the forest lair. She hung back, hiding among the foliage—best to observe first before rushing in. But there was no movement within the tree huts.
A feeling that things were not as they seemed twisted her gut.
Changing her mind, she climbed higher into the treetops where the branches were a lot thinner. She leaped onto the thatched roof of the nearest hut, landing lightly so she wouldn’t fall through. She steadied herself using her skills learned from Ohana to make her footfalls light.
There was no detectable vampire presence. No one was walking across the gangways. No sounds of life at all.
Morgana slid forward on her stomach toward the roof edge and peered into the window as she hung upside down.
If Gareth were here, he’d probably make some wisecrack about her perpetuating the stereotypes of vampires being bats. She smiled to herself before shaking her head, pushing the thoughts aside. He was always distracting her on the job, even when he wasn’t around.
She righted herself, crouched on the rooftop, and scanned the lair around her—no vampires here or the humans they took.
“Fuck.” Morgana kicked the leg of the nearest chair—the one Ragnorok had been sitting on the night she’d confronted him. At the time, she thought he had kidnapped her parents. But it was a ruse from Randalf to get her away from the house. None of it mattered now. The Forest Clan was missing.
But more importantly—where were they?
***
Gareth, Alastor, and Ava were back at the Van Wildens like Morgana had asked, or rather told him to go, reporting back on their findings. Gareth didn’t want to be here in case she turned up again.
“How many bodies?” Oscar asked him.
“We found only one—” Gareth began to reply, but his voice died when he felt Morgana approaching the house. It was like his body was in tune with her presence.
She walked inside, a frown on her face.
“What’s the status?”
Morgana sat with a grim look and told them.
Gareth shook his head in response to her lack of findings. “What do you mean they’re missing?”
“Gone. Zilch. Nada. As in completely disappeared.”
“Do you think they’ve left?” Ava asked.
Morgana shook her head. “No, it seems like this is too important of a vendetta for Ragnorok to up and leave like this.”
“Well, we have to find them and be smart about it.”
“I’ll say.” Gareth crossed his arms over his chest, earning him a glare from Morgana. “What? It took us fucking ages to find them last time.”
“Not you, me.” She glared at him.
“Don’t give me that shit again.” He pointed back and forth between them. “We’re a team, remember?”
“Doesn’t really feel like it now, does it?” she snarled. Even she looked taken aback by her angry outburst.
“Well, if you had fucking told me you were related to my evil creator, we wouldn’t be doing this.”
“Careful, mate, it looks like she wants to stake ye,” Alastor warned under his breath.
“Don’t give her any ideas,” Gareth bellowed.
“Morgana, Gareth, I suggest we put this issue to the side and focus on the real problem here?” Oscar said, eyeing everyone in the room.
Morgana sat back but raised her eyebrow at Gareth, her brown eyes challenging him.
His breath caught. Jesus, she was beautiful even when she was angry. He didn’t know whether to kiss her or continue yelling at her. Lately, his feelings were all jumbled up inside him like he couldn’t decipher one from the other.
“Fine,” he huffed, sitting back in the armchair.
“Good.” Oscar nodded.
“I’m going back to explore their lair properly.” Morgana made a move to stand.
Oscar narrowed his eyes. “The Council isn’t going to be happy you went back again a second time. Are you asking now or telling us you’re going?”
“Telling you. They’re taking bodies now. The situation has escalated to a new level. The Council needs to decide what to do about them. If I can find clues as to where they might have moved to, we can use it to present a proper case to The Council.”
“They may not grant it.”
“Why?” Morgana threw her hands up. “Because they are pissed I didn’t get their permission last time? How am I supposed to do my job, then?”
“We do need to do something… make a move,” said Vivienne.
Oscar sighed, looking down at the liquor glass in his hand. “Fine, but it may get held up. They’ve found a replacement for Randalf.”
“Oh, yeah—who?” Morgana asked.
“Your brother, Jonas.”
Gareth recalled Morgana telling him about there being more siblings. Hopefully, they weren’t all like Mariza.
“Good for him. It’s a good position, but I thought he was out on a mission?”
“His mission was cut short. You will forgive me, I can’t indulge you with the details.”
Ava had been leaning forward, listening. Her face fell.
Gareth sympathized with Ava’s reaction. He couldn’t help wondering what type of mission Jonas was on where Oscar couldn’t divulge the details.
Morgana shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Oscar looked at her. “Listen, I’ll talk to the others, appeal to them as a fellow Elder.”
“Thank you.” Morgana let out a long huff.
“Right now, that’s settled. We should head over to the campaign office.”
Gareth groaned as Morgana rolled her eyes. The bloody mission cover. He was supposed to be volunteering there today. They exchanged an expression of mutual annoyance before looking away.
“Will you be heading in with us, Gareth?”
He looked down at his clothes. They weren’t suitable office attire. “I need to go home and change.”
“Very well.”
“Ava and I should head off, too,” Alastor said.
Ava nodded. “Yes, I want to get started on my article.”
They stood, moving toward the front door. Gareth cast one last look at Morgana before exiting.
***
Morgana watched Gareth walk away, unsure of how she was supposed to handle this whole mess. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have kept the truth from him.
“What do you remember about Ragnorok or the Obscure Clan mission?”
Morgana pulled her eyes away from the foyer to look at her father. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Do either of you remember him or the Obscure Clan mission?” He looked toward Vivienne.
Vivienne and Morgana shook their heads.
Oscar looked back down at his glass. “Neither do I.”
“What’s our next move, then?”
“The usual… analyze, assess, and target,” Oscar paused, “but I think we research the files from the mission concerning his first Clan.”
Chapter Five
Alastor, being the gentleman he was, made sure Ava got home safely. He didn’t like the idea of her going home by herself, especially if the Forest Clan was taking humans now.
He walked through the town square, taking the shorter route directly back home when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a blonde walking at crosshairs to him.
He slowed his steps to check her out. He did like blondes.
Well, except Mrs. V. It would be awkward to check her out. Even if she didn’t look much older than him, her actual vampire age, her mannerisms, and the way she held herself made her appear to be quite the older woman.
But as he was nearing the woman, he could sense she was a vampire. His stomach twisted. He hoped it wasn’t her he was checking out.
He glanced at her face and caught sight of her eyes—the same ones Oscar and Morgana had. Man, Oscar must have some strong genes to pass down those eyes.
/> A growl was building in the back of his throat.
It was her.
If it weren’t daytime, and they weren’t in the middle of town, he would have grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the old oak tree. Also, she was a woman—not a lady by any means but still a woman. He should never consider committing acts of violence against a woman. So, his arms remained by his side.
“Well, hello there.” She stepped up to him, speaking in what he imagined was meant to be her sultry voice. To him, it grated rather than caused any arousal. There was a hungry look in her eyes as she inspected him.
He cursed under his breath. To perpetuate the illusion that he and Gareth were young, rich men, living off their wealthy parents, they often dressed for the part.
When Ava had told them about the missing body, he’d changed into a long-sleeved black thermal and dark jeans. Both designer brands.
So, of course, Mariza would be eyeing him now, probably assessing his clothes, thinking he was her next meal ticket.
“Ye do know I’m a vampire?”
Mariza froze in her appraisal, her eyes blinking slowly. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, don’t ye usually go for the rich humans to fuel yer lifestyle?”
Her charming demeanor changed to anger. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” she hissed.
“Aye.” Pride swelling his chest.
Mariza walked around him and tapped her chin. “You’re his friend, aren’t you?”
“Aye.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“You’re the one who helped him, right?”
“Aye.”
Mariza bared her teeth at him. “I should kill you for helping him. He was meant to stay dead.”
“And I should kill ye for what ye did to him.”
“Oh, please, he had a retched human life. I saved him from that.”
“Nay, ye killed him after accidentally turning him and then tried to dump the body. Ye sicken me.”
“Listen here, you human-turned piece of trash. I’ll not stand here to be insulted by the likes of you.” Venom dripped with each word.
“Aye, ye’ve likely got more whoring to do.”
“Do you even know who I am?”
Alastor crossed his arms over his chest. “My best friend’s evil creator.”
She jabbed her finger at his chest. “I’m a Primus Vampyr. I could tear your head from your shoulders without even blinking an eye.”
“Well, have at it then.” He stepped toward her, shouting in her face.
Mariza stepped back, looking around. They were attracting an audience. Alastor closed his eyes briefly—small-town gossipers’ tongues will be wagging about this. Poor Ava would likely be warned to stay away from him now.
She stepped back and smoothed her hair. “You’re lucky there are humans around,” she hissed so only he could hear, turned on her heel, and walked briskly away.
He shrugged and walked away, ignoring the looks from the townsfolk.
If leaving Gareth to die weren’t enough of a reason, this encounter had fueled his desire to kill his best friend’s creator.
Alastor scrubbed his face as he gathered his thoughts on the way home. He let himself into the house, sinking into the closest armchair, his head falling back. Their encounter made him think of his creator who had saved him from a terrible fate which had rippled through Ireland during the Great Famine.
He couldn’t fathom how a creator such as Mariza, could treat their creation or why she was still so angry and full of regret about turning Gareth. But like all people, human or vampire, there was always the good and the downright evil ones.
He smelled Ava before she entered, the strawberry scent of hers wafting like a cloud of mist around her, pulling him into focus.
“Ye back, love? What happened to the article?”
“Well, I can only write so much without getting the police and coroner’s reports. All I saw at the scene with you guys doesn’t count as real evidence.” Ava sighed when she entered the living room. “Besides, Janet gleefully informed me she saw you today in an argument with a pretty blonde. In her words, ‘that wasn’t you.’”
“Aye, Janet is right.” He didn’t lift his face from watching the fire.
“Who was she?”
“Mariza.”
Ava sucked in a sharp breath. “You saw her?”
“I ran into her in the town square.”
Ava kneeled on the floor in front of him and took his hand. He finally lifted his eyes toward her. “Tell me what’s going on behind those pretty green eyes of yours?”
Alastor snorted. “Ye trying to sweet talk me into telling ye?”
Ava looked up through her lashes. “Is it working?”
Alastor patted his lap. “Come sit here, love. I’ll show ye.”
Ava giggled and climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, snuggling in closer. The distraction was good. The less he had to think about it all, the better.
He breathed in her scent mingled with the artificial strawberry lotion she loved so much. He didn’t mind it as he could always tell when she was nearby by the fragrance. His teeth grazed her skin. The taste on her skin was another thing, though. It was putrid. As he moved to pull away, the carotid artery pulsed at him, urging him to split it open and let the blood flow into his mouth. It had been years since he had fresh blood, since he had bitten into flesh, and the life of a human poured into him.
He had never tasted Ava. Never wanted to. Still, it was always there for the taking.
“I wonder what it would feel like to be bitten?” Ava mused.
Her voice was like cold water splashing over him. He retracted his canines and sat back from her as far as he could in the armchair.
“I would say it would be quite painful for ye.” He glared at her. Though he was only covering up his guilt because he had wanted to bite her.
“You don’t think it would be romantic like in the books or movies?”
“No. There’s a big difference from a love bite or a nip of the skin, to tearing into someone’s flesh and draining their life.”
“Oh.” She blushed.
“What’s brought this on, love? Ye’ve never wanted me to bite ye before?”
Ava shrugged. “With Morgana being in town and her letting Gareth drink from her, I’m curious about what it would be like.”
Alastor cringed inward. Of course, Ava would be curious. She loved nothing more than to dig up every single detail about anything. Investigative journalism was her passion.
“She only did it to help him when he was weakened from the two attacks. It isn’t like she feeds him regularly,” Alastor snapped.
“Do you not want to talk about it?” Ava moved forward, her hazel eyes soft and full of concern.
“I’m sorry, love.” He sat back on the armchair, rubbing his face. “Mariza being in town has got me all worked up.”
“What’s she like?”
“Exactly like ye’d think… as rotten as they come. Seeing Gareth and then meeting her, brought back the memories I’ve spent the last hundred years trying to forget.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk about it.” She touched his cheek, her eyes meeting his.
Alastor shifted her, so she sat on the armchair and stood, walking over to the mantelpiece. He rested his hand on the shelf. “It’s a nasty sight watching someone starve to death. To watch them fade before you.”
“Your sister,” Ava said quietly.
“Aye.” Alastor scrubbed at his face. “I regret every day not taking up Darragh on his offer. I could have saved her.”
“You thought you were doing the right thing.”
“Aye, I thought he was the devil, there to take her soul. He was there trying to turn as many as he could so his fellow Irishmen wouldn’t die. It’s funny how our perception of the world is so skewed by others. When in the end, it was me who was the monster for letting her die.”
“No, Alastor McLoughlin!” She stood, planting her
hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare think of yourself like that.”
“But she’d still be here today if I hadn’t turned Darragh away.” Alastor looked up at Ava. “Ye could have met her, been like sisters.”
Ava walked over and reached up, touching his face. “If she were anything like you, then I would have loved her as much as I love you.”
Alastor gave her a small smile.
“That’s why you saved Gareth? Because he reminded you of your sister’s death?”
“Aye. I couldn’t stand to see another person die of starvation. And it’s worse as a vampire.”
Alastor paced up and down. “Feckin’ bitch. She makes me blood boil. She deliberately let him starve out. Ye don’t wish that kind of death on anybody.”
“You’re a good man, Alastor. You saved Gareth.”
Alastor stopped pacing. “But how can I save him now? Her arrival has upset him, and he’s pushing Morgana away. Not telling him about her sister is merely an excuse for him to push her away.”
“You do what you do best. You be the great man you are and be there for him. He needs his best friend to help him sort out his issues.” She squeezed his hand. “And your own.”
“Aye. Ye are always the smarter, level-headed one.”
“Why don’t you stay here tonight… just the two of you. Do whatever you guys get up to when I’m not around.”
Alastor grinned. He and Gareth had discussed doing something like this earlier this morning.
Ava kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll talk more in the morning.” She turned and grabbed her purse.
“Ava.”
She looked up at him. “Yes?”
“I love ye.”
Ava smiled, pressing her lips to his. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Six
Mariza lounged across the ugly sofa, swirling a wine glass full of blood in her hand, brooding over her encounters with her creation and his little Daywalker friend, and all, only this morning. She stretched her legs out, sipping on the blood and decided to put them out of her mind. They were of no consequence to her. After she saw her father, she’d be out of this stinkhole of a town.
The Van Wilden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3 Page 24