Exes and Exorcisms

by Keira Blackwood

  He held an umbrella over his head to protect him from the last shreds of sunlight. His face twitched as he met my gaze.

  I held up the gun like it was a weapon. “Stay back, arsehole.”

  Peter held up his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  His voice was different. Less garbled. I squinted at him. He looked different, too—he almost looked attractive. Or at least he would have after a drink. Now that I was noticing, his clothes were neat instead of full of holes like they usually were, and his black hair was trimmed and combed instead of wild and greasy.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  I hadn’t seen Peter since the dungeon, and I couldn’t say I was glad to see him now. We’d been prisoners together, but like most of my fellow captives, Peter had been a bit of a creep. He’d been obsessed with sculpting naked ladies. But the weird thing was—of all the guys there, he was the most gentlemanly when it came to Aubrey, Marla, and me.

  Next to me, Joe stood up. For the first time, I really appreciated how tall he was, and how broad-shouldered. “Do you need me to do something about that guy, Kelly?” he asked.

  “I just might,” I said, my voice nearly as growly as Joe’s.

  “I promise,” Peter said. “Do your clairvoyant magic or whatever. I’m just touring around and thought I’d say hello to my sister.”

  “Sister?” Joe asked, looking at me.

  “Sire-sister,” I explained. “We share the same evil vampire sire. And this wanker is working for the enemy.”

  I lunged forward, tattoo gun held out. The cord came loose, and the buzzing stopped, but I didn’t care—I would jab the pointy needle into Peter’s eye.

  Peter moved to the side, so I spun halfway to keep him directly in front of me. Any minute now, Peter would throw out his special power—pestilence and disease. It was just a matter of which form it took. He usually favored skin ailments.

  “What’s it going to be?” I asked in a taunt. “Necrotizing fasciitis? Leprosy? Scabies?”

  Joe ripped off his jeans and shirt—boxers, too. Sadly, I was too busy keeping an eye on Peter to get a good look at Joe’s sculpted form. I could see general shapes from my peripheral vision, though. And that arse—perfection. Too bad he was a shifter, or I might be in danger of finding him worth my time.

  White light surrounded him, and a wolf took his place a second later.

  Joe growled, showing his teeth.

  “Kelly!” Peter shrieked. “Call off your guard dog! I’m only here to visit for a few days, to take in the sights.”

  I felt a lot less panicky with a slavering wolf at my side, so I took a moment to think. Usually my visions popped up when something momentous—usually dangerous—was about to happen. Like the vision of my ex showing up, which had yet to happen. I hadn’t had a vision of Peter’s arrival, though. Which meant he was likely telling the truth. A harmless visit.

  A harmless visit from Peter, though?

  I kept my tattoo gun pointing in Peter’s direction.

  The tattoo parlor door opened again.

  Fuck my life.

  Framed by the doorway, the newest arrival stood. He was just as tall, just as well-built as Joe. Even though he faced me, I knew his arse was just as perfect as Joe’s, too.

  How did I know about his perfect arse? Because he was Xavier. My ex.

  3

  XAVIER

  Two vampires at each other’s throats. The third was a shifter, likely under the influence of the female vampire’s compulsion. In his wolf form, he defended her, placing himself between the two vampires. I’d kill both bloodsuckers in the confusion, and save the shifter.

  I leaped forward, landed on the female vampire to pin her down, and whipped a stake from the sheath on my forearm.

  Then I looked down and saw her.

  Kelly Flowers lay still beneath me, my legs pinning her arms to her sides, her body flat on the tile floor. My Kelly. I’d spent the past five years eliminating every vampire I could find for vengeance, for penance, since I hadn’t been able to save her.

  And here she was, alive.

  No.

  Undead.

  My hand wavered with my conviction, the stake still held to her breast.

  “Xavier Breene, as I kinda-live and don’t breathe.” Kelly looked over my face, her blue eyes wide, her expression sharp.

  She still had that candy-apple-red hair. How had I not known right away that it was her? Her scent was different—that had to be it. Still, Kelly had been my world. How had I not known she was still alive? I’d thought she might be my mate, but something had always held me—us—back. But I’d cared deeply for her. I’d missed her. And my entire life since her death had been about her.

  “I can tell you’re surprised to see me,” she said. “I can’t say I’m glad to see you either. Would you mind getting up? You’re ruining my silk shirt.”

  Words failed me. She was here. Right here. Finally, I came up with one sentence and forced out the syllables. “You’re not dead.”

  “Well—”

  I’d dreamed of this moment, of finding her, only in my imaginings she was truly alive. I’d been mistaken, and she hadn’t been killed. But this fate was worse than death. Kelly was a shell, a soulless monster. Death would have been a kindness.

  The wolf slammed the vampire male into the desk by the door and knocked him to the floor. The shifter returned to human form and wrestled the vampire’s arm behind his back.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening to you.” I pressed the point of my stake to her skin. One quick thrust and her suffering would be over. Still, my hand didn’t move.

  I couldn’t do it, not when I looked at her. She wasn’t Kelly anymore, I told myself. But my heart said she was.

  A dark flash crossed Kelly’s ocean eyes. Before I could think to move, she freed her arm from beneath my knee and hit me, smack in the nose with the palm of her hand.

  My nose crunched with a stab of pain. I flinched and reached for my face. A metallic scent filled my lungs and blood dripped down into my throat.

  It was just enough of a distraction for the still-naked shifter to plow into my shoulder and knock me from my perch atop Kelly. Quickly, I rolled and regained my footing.

  The male vampire bolted for the stairs, drawing everyone’s attention for a second, but just as quickly, the shifter turned his sights back on me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he growled, his eyes still looking wolfish. He pulled on a pair of pants.

  “It’s fine, Joe.” Kelly touched his arm, and put herself between him and me.

  A shot of jealousy surged through my veins. Funny, given the circumstances. This wasn’t Kelly. She was a monster, a bloodsucker. I killed bloodsuckers for a living.

  “Back away from the vampire,” I told Joe. “Whatever spell the monstrous bloodsucker has cast on you will end with its second death.”

  “Wow.” Kelly crossed her arms, waving a lock of ruby red hair from her pale face. “That’s a hell of a way to say hello. Tackle a girl to the ground, call her a monster. You do know how to put on the charm, don’t you?”

  She sure sounded like Kelly.

  “What’s going on?” Joe asked. “You two seem to know each other, but there’s a lot of hostility. There’s history here...fucked up history.”

  Kelly shot him a look. “Way to read a room.”

  The scent of confusion carried off of Joe in waves. It wasn’t the scent of magical manipulation, either. It seemed like neither of us fully knew what was going on here.

  “We used to date,” I told him.

  Joe nodded knowingly. “So you’re not going to kill her, right?”

  Kelly raised a brow in challenge, daring me to say otherwise.

  “You’re a vampire,” I told her. “But you sound like Kelly.”

  “Because I am Kelly. Did you hit your head?”

  Her words rang true. I would have heard it if she was lying. I would have felt it. But somehow, som
ewhere inside her vampire exterior, was the woman I loved.

  “I won’t hurt her,” I told Joe.

  “Good, because you two have some seriously weird vibes going on. And I don’t need to be a part of it.” He grabbed his shirt from the floor and his jacket from the hook by the door and left.

  “You let Peter get away,” Kelly told me as she gathered some of the tools that were scattered across the floor.

  I bent down to help her, setting a sketchbook and a tattoo gun on the tray. “Who’s Peter?”

  Her eyes flicked to mine, then back away. “The idiot who ran upstairs. If he’s locked himself in my room, I won’t forgive you.”

  A smile pulled at my lips. It had been so long since I’d smiled. The air was different when it was just the two of us, charged like it always used to be when we were together. She was still my Kelly, same as always. Only now she didn’t breathe. And there was something about her, a newfound confidence, though I couldn’t put my finger on why I thought that was the case. She’d always said exactly what she was thinking, so it wasn’t that.

  “Tell me it was him who murdered the human, and not you,” I said. It was a plea, though I did my best not to let it sound like it.

  “What?”

  “Someone found a human in the woods, torn nearly in half, all of his blood drained,” I said. “That’s what brought me to Forbidden.”

  “Ohhh, you mean that asshat Ryan something or another. One of Marla’s clients. Complete dirtbag. Andy killed him.”

  I was getting a lot of names, but I didn’t know who any of these people were.

  “Where is Andy?”

  Kelly shrugged. “Dead, of course. Do you truly think I’d let a murderer hang around in my town?”

  I guessed I wasn’t so sure anymore. But this was Kelly. She might be a stronger, supernaturally enhanced version of the abrasive, gorgeous woman I loved, but she was still Kelly.

  “The answer is no,” she said. “Forbidden is shifter-run, and vamp-protected. Protected by me, if that wasn’t clear. No one kills anyone here and gets away with it.”

  Kelly didn’t kill humans.

  She seemed to think her friends didn’t kill humans either, but I couldn’t say I trusted Peter. Whatever was going on between them when I’d arrived, it hadn’t been friendly.

  “Where can I find Andy’s remains?”

  “You can’t,” she said. “He’s dust. Poof. Gone.”

  Or course he was. There’d be no way to confirm that. But I could tell Kelly was telling the truth.

  Kelly strolled closer, looking every bit a predator on the prowl, and every bit the sensual woman she had always been. Her sweet scent filled my lungs as she leaned in close to inspect me. It was heady and fruit-like, that of a lotus at dusk. It was wild and unfamiliar, yet undeniably alluring.

  Her gaze flicked from my mouth to my chest, then to my arms. She said, “You’ve been working out.”

  Vampire hunting kept my senses sharp and my body strong. I decided it was better not to say that part out loud.

  She ran a hand over my bicep, sparking my dick to life. It was a simple touch, nothing sexual about it. Except this was Kelly, and with Kelly, everything was charged. With a smile, she could make me want to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she could hardly breathe. With an insult, she could make me want to tie her to my bed and tease her until she pleaded for my cock.

  She placed her palm softly on my jaw. Her brilliant blue eyes softened and my throat and jeans tightened in response.

  “I don’t like the scruff,” she said with a condescending tap on my cheek, like I was a puppy dog.

  I opened my mouth to respond, aimed to tease her right back.

  This was us.

  But then something slammed loudly on the floor above us, scraping, and then banging. We both looked up to the ceiling, then Kelly eyed the stairs.

  “I need to deal with this,” she said.

  Peter was definitely trouble. I just hadn’t decided what kind yet.

  I started after Kelly, but she stopped me with a hand on my chest.

  “No,” she said. “You need to leave.”

  “I thought you were dead and I was wrong,” I said.

  “I thought you were an arsehole and I was right. Time for you to go now.”

  I laughed. I’d just found the woman I loved who died, and she was alive-ish, and she expected me to walk away?

  “No way,” I said. “I finally found you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  4

  KELLY

  Arsehole men shouldn’t be allowed to have lickable biceps. They shouldn’t have strong jaws or kissable lips. Forest green eyes shouldn’t be permitted, especially when they somehow made my insides melt and my non-beating heart race.

  Men like Xavier Breene should look like walruses and smell like dung beetles.

  “You’re really not leaving,” I said to Xavier. “Seriously? There’s nothing for you here.”

  “There’s you.” He gave me the sexy grin he’d always tried to use when he knew he’d made an arse of himself and wanted me to forgive him.

  Fortunately for him, it usually worked.

  Unfortunately for him, I was in no mood to be pushed around. I was not the same woman I’d been when we’d dated. I’d put up with his bossiness back then, even though the only place I’d actually enjoyed it had been in the bedroom.

  “I’m going upstairs to talk to Peter,” I said.

  “I’m coming, too.”

  “You can try,” I said, “if you’d like to feel the imprint of my heel on your chest for the next decade. Your choice, wolf man.”

  He cocked his head, likely trying to gauge my seriousness. “You’re not joking.”

  “No, I am bloody not joking.”

  “I love when you get angry—all your Britishisms come back full-force.”

  “I will rip off your knickers, stuff them in your mouth, and shove you into the boot of a car, you wanker,” I said sweetly. “How’s that for Britishisms? I can also cover you in Marmite and douse you in tea.”

  “So hot,” he said with a wink. “I think I’ll wait downstairs, though.”

  I left him behind, not knowing why my knickers were damp with arousal. I hated that man. Hated him with the force of ten thousand suns.

  And yet every time I saw him or thought of him, I got all hot and turned on. Stupid body, betraying my mind and heart every time.

  Up the stairs I went, then I stopped on the landing in front of Marla’s closed apartment door. Peter was still making noises in there. If he messed with Marla’s things, she would stake me twice.

  “Peter?” I said through the door. “You need to come out of there right this minute. That’s Marla’s apartment and she’s not going to be happy you’ve made yourself at home.”

  “Too bad. Marla’s not here right now, and I am afraid for my life, Kelly. That man downstairs, he’s a vampire killer! He’s crazy! I’m just a defenseless vampire and he wants to hurt me.”

  “He doesn’t want to hurt you,” I said, trying to make my voice sound gentle, although the words came out sounding more like a threat.

  “Yeah? Then why is he carrying all those stakes?”

  “Er…” I didn’t have a harmless explanation for that.

  Another loud thump came from the other side of the door, and Peter exclaimed, “Darn it!”

  “What are you doing in there, anyway?” I asked.

  “Moving furniture in front of the windows. I ran out of tinfoil.”

  “Tinfoil?”

  “Not everyone has a daylight bracelet, Kelly,” he said in a scathing tone.

  I looked down at the embroidered bracelet on my wrist. When we’d made our escape from our sire, also known as the Collector, Marla, Aubrey, and I had taken the only three in existence, according to Aubrey, who knew everything.

  “Look, just come out of Marla’s apartment and we’ll find you a better place to hide during the day,” I said.

  “I don’t tr
ust you,” Peter said. “Not if you’re in league with the vampire hunter.”

  “I’m not in league with him,” I said.

  Peter snorted. “I saw the way you wanted to tear his clothes off.”

  “You mean tear his throat out.”

  “Nope. Kelly and Stakey Man, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s enough.”

  Peter laughed.

  A yowling sound reached my ears and for a moment I thought it was Peter doing something weird, because, well, Peter. But then I realized it was the cats. Perfect. Their drama could distract me from the current shit-show of my life. I hurried to the end of the hall, where a narrow window overlooked the alley below.

  “Hey, Peter,” I said, “Meowcus Anthony is going to defend his turf! But unfortunately for him, His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins is more than ready to lay waste to the entire alley for the love of Snowball.”

  “What are you talking about?” Peter asked.

  “Look at the cats outside,” I said.

  There was a crinkling sound of tinfoil being moved. “They’re cats, Kelly.” Then he shrieked. “The sun is rising—are you trying to kill me?”

  “If I was trying to kill you, you’d know it,” I said to him. “You have no finesse.”

  “I’ve finessed my song,” he said. “Roses are red, violets are blue, Kelly wants to kiss the vampire hunter, this much is true.”

  Peter was obnoxious, but I had to admit, he had helped Marla, Aubrey, and I a little bit with our escape from the Collector. He’d slowed down the vampires who were chasing us as we ran from the dungeon. It was probably for his own amusement rather than any actual intention to help, but still, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. And with Marla out of town, it wouldn’t really hurt her if Peter crashed on her and Grayson’s sofa.

  However, there were some rules for staying in Forbidden—namely, we weren’t supposed to seriously or permanently harm the residents. Taking a sip here and there was all right with the alpha, Declan, but we had to be careful about it and fly under the radar, so to speak.

  Which meant Peter would need to learn the rules.