Rainey throws her head back and laughs wildly. “You are in for a treat, Mr. Hawthorne.”
24
Rainey
I wake to someone shaking me. “What the—”
“Rainey, you need to get up,” Jane whispers. “Now.”
“What the hell is it?” Yawning, I get out of bed on legs that still feel wobbly as hell. When I glance up, Fearghas is standing in the corner of the room. While I’m wearing nothing but a baggy nightshirt.
“I’ll turn around then,” he offers, spinning to face the wall.
“What the fuck is he doing in here? What are you doing? Where’s Elijah?”
“Talking to some detectives in the study with Tarnley.”
All remaining sleep vanishes. “Detectives?”
“Yes. And we have to leave now before they decide they want to search the house, looking for you.”
“How did they—”
“No time to explain unless you wish for us to do it across a pane of Plexiglass while you’re dressed in orange,” Fearghas says. “Though I very much think you would look great in the color.”
Quickly, I tug on some jeans and boots before grabbing my dagger and bag of weapons in the corner of the room.
“Do we need to grab Elijah?”
“He’s going to meet us.”
“As I told you, detectives, I haven’t seen Rainey in quite a few days,” Elijah’s voice carries into the room as Fearghas grabs my hand and I grab Jane.
In an instant, we’re gone, leaving Elijah to clean up yet another of Heather’s messes.
“I can’t fucking believe they want me for their deaths,” I growl, ripping my hand from Fearghas’s and dropping my bag onto the floor of his penthouse.
He plops down on his couch, propping both sneakered feet on his coffee table. With the rest of the sleep out of my system, I realize he’s not wearing his typical suit. Instead, the snarky fae is dressed in grey sweats and a black tank top. His hair, which is typically styled to perfection, is wild as if he’s been running his hands through it.
“What were you up to before coming to play hero?” I ask curiously.
“Working out.”
“I thought you fae had great metabolisms,” Jane shoots back.
He glares at her. “It takes work to maintain all of this.” Gesturing to his entire body, he grins wickedly. “Wouldn’t you agree it’s worth maintaining?”
She shrugs. “You’re all right.”
Unimpressed by her answer, he snorts. “I’ll be grabbing a shower. Try not to get into any trouble in the next five minutes. Your hunter may not appreciate it if he was constantly having to live up to my standards once you’ve seen me naked.”
I snort, and Jane shakes her head.
“How you holding up?”
Walking to the window, I glance out over downtown Billings. “I’m worried. What if they think he had something to do with it? What if they arrest him?”
“They won’t. There’s no way in hell they have anything on him.”
“No,” I agree. “He wasn’t there when it happened, but they could still take him in, and if word got out, Elijah would be a sitting duck. What would stop Heather from going in and killing him?”
Jane sighs and comes to stand beside me. “We can only stress about that which we can control. Right now, the situation Elijah is in is not something you can erase. But he will handle it with poise because the bastard can be damned charming when he wishes to be.”
Chuckling, I nod. “He definitely can be, can’t he?”
“Speaking of, how did last night go?”
“You mean my normal movie date night?” Even with everything going on, the memory of Elijah standing before me, nervous and bathed in candlelight, is enough to nearly make me swoon right there. “It was pretty damned awesome.”
“Elijah was so worried you couldn’t be impressed. I’m pretty sure his exact words to me were ‘she’s a hunter, why would a movie like this amuse her?’ It was so damned adorable.”
“He loves me,” I tell her as I turn back to the window and watch the cars below.
“Gasp! You don’t say!”
“I love him too.”
She makes the actual gasping sound this time and presses a hand to her heart. “Once again, you’ve struck me speechless.”
“I just wish we could get this shit done with so we could actually move forward.”
“What are you going to do once all this is over?”
“I have no clue. My original plan was to go back to work, but with the warrant, I don’t know that I can.”
“You think they could actually charge you?”
I meet her familiar gaze and nod. “I was there, Jane. Heather may have been the one pulling the strings, but it will be my fingerprints on the weapon—if they find one, my face on traffic cameras. I could solve this case with my eyes closed. Any evidence they find will be concrete, which more than likely means my ass is done working in any valid capacity.”
“But why would she have left them any chance to put her away? If she was planning on keeping you for longer—”
“It may have been a mistake, an oversight. After all, she was trapped in a box for a few centuries. The bitch didn’t even know what a pancake was until recently.”
“Fair point. Couldn’t this be a good thing though? You might finally be able to rest.”
I swallow hard and consider her point. I’ve thought about it more than once over the years. I could just stop fighting, stop hunting, live a normal life—but is that really something I want?
“You don’t think you could be happy being normal,” Jane answers for me, and I nod in agreement.
“Helping people, cleaning up the world one asshole at a time, it’s what makes me happy. How am I supposed to do that if I’m a wanted woman?”
Jane squeezes my shoulder gently. “We’ll figure it out.” She turns away and heads toward Fearghas’s kitchen. “Since this guy is an absolutely terrible host, how about we see if he has anything to make coffee while we wait?”
Wordlessly, I follow her into the kitchen, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach, weighing me down with the decisions that will have to be made in the future.
There’s no guarantee I’ll even survive to see December. Hell, there’s no guarantee any of us will. Heather could win, turn the entire supernatural world on its head, and kill every single one of us.
Each day, each moment leads us one step closer to the fight looming on the horizon. As it stands, we have a plan—a piss-poor one, granted—but it’s a plan.
Get her blood.
Use her bones.
Put her down.
Should be simple, and yet even as each choice we make brings us closer and closer to it, I know it will be anything but.
The detectives interviewing Elijah could choose to bring him in for questioning. Heather could choose to attack him, forcing us to move before we’re completely ready.
Every single action, big or small, is what defines the future. And in the end, the only thing we can control is our choices.
Choices that begin and end with either our victory over Heather or our defeat.
It’s three hours before a knock on the door sends my heart tail spinning. Fearghas dematerializes from the couch, reappearing at the door and opening it. Elijah rushes in, his gaze scanning the room until it lands on me.
I rush toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and breathing him in. The fact that he’s standing in front of me, free and safe, is enough to calm my raging nerves.
“I’m sorry you had to be woken that way,” he whispers against my hair. “I had something entirely different planned.”
“How did it go?” I ask, pulling away.
“They want you, badly,” he replies, releasing me and moving further into the apartment. “Apparently, you were spotted on an ATM camera an hour after the murders. From the angle, they believe they saw blood splatter on your shirt.”
I swallow hard, attempting
to force the lump back down.
“It doesn’t help that you’ve been missing for over a week now, and the last call Ramirez made was to check on you.”
“Shit. Can’t Paloma help at all?” Jane slumps back down on the couch, crossing both arms over her chest.
“There’s only so much she can do without looking like she’s interfering with the investigation,” I tell her. “If they so much as think, for even a second, she’s shielding me—she’ll be in the hot seat right alongside me. What else did they say?”
“They went over their deaths—in graphic detail, I might add—and lumped your work email into the conversation. They brought up Delaney’s messages and asked me if I knew what her code meant.”
I groan. “I never deleted those.”
“They don’t have much. At this point, those could have just been from some creepy stalker. Someone trying to fuck with your head. After all, who is going to believe your dead sister is sending you emails?”
He’s right. There are a thousand ways to spin that, but it doesn’t change the facts. I was there when Ramirez and Kamie were killed. And apparently, there’s proof. “I feel like we should start a club for all the people who want me either dead or behind bars.”
“Probably be easier to start one for those of us who don’t,” Fearghas offers.
I shoot him a glare. “Fuck, this is such a mess.”
“Start untangling it,” Jane tells me. “One problem at a time.”
“Heather is our main problem.”
“She’s a problem,” Jane counters. “A big, bitchy problem, yes, but she’s not the entire picture.”
“We have the homicide investigation,” I say as I start mentally tallying up the sum of shit piles we’re currently knee-deep in. “The hunters after Jack and Willa. The witches killing the succubae for their hearts…”
“And then Heather,” Jane interrupts. “My point is; let’s tackle these things one by one.”
“Killing Heather would eliminate the witch problem.”
“Yes, but it won’t take care of the hunters or the homicide investigation. You can’t very well arrest her and tell them she borrowed your body to kill your partner and his wife in an attempt to break you so she could take over full time.”
“I don’t know of anything that will stop that.”
“Then let’s start with the hunters. Let’s find them, stop them. We’ve got her bones, so as soon as Agatha has the potion ready, we can move in on Heather.”
I glance over at Elijah. “We have to find her first.”
“We will,” he assures me. “Who knows, maybe she’ll come to us.”
25
Rainey
Music surrounds me, the steady beat reminding me of a time, not so long ago, when Elijah and I first met in this very same club.
Since it’s a hotspot for supernaturals, we’re hoping to cross paths with the hunters looking for Jack. He insisted on coming, his injury finally healed enough that he was more than happy to volunteer as bait.
Elijah is at the opposite end of the bar while I sit a few stools down from him. All three of us are on alert as is Fearghas, who’s stationed closer to Jack than any of us since he’ll be the one in need of a quick get out of jail free card should shit really hit the fan.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a handful of Skittles and sneak them into my mouth before the bartender can see, chewing greedily as the fruit flavor explodes in my mouth and calms me the hell down.
“Hey, beautiful.” A man slides onto the stool next to me—a shifter based on his heartbeat—and raises his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. While typically I would deal with him, I’m here hunting bigger game tonight.
I try to force down my Skittles so I don’t seem rude, and the fact that I can’t even take the time to savor them pisses me off as I face him. “Can I help you?”
He looks me up and down, his brown eyes greedily drinking in the black corset top I’m rocking in order to fit in. “You are magnificent.” He licks his lips, and it literally takes everything in me not to puke all over this floor.
His breath is putrid, a combination of decaying teeth, beer, and peanuts.
“What can I get you?” the woman behind the bar asks as she sets a napkin down on top.
“I’ll have beer, and my gorgeous companion here—”
“Not your companion,” I remind him, but he only laughs.
“My companion will have another whiskey.”
“You’ve got it.” With a sad smile my way, she turns away, and he refocuses on me.
“Now, how about that conversation?”
“Not interested.” I start to get up, but his hand grips my wrist, and I stiffen. I can practically feel Elijah’s anger from all the way down here, and I silently urge him to keep his cool. The last thing we need is him going full-on rager right here in the crowded club.
And while he’s no longer a vampire—the beast is still inside.
“You’re going to want to let me go,” I growl at him as he straightens. Standing at least two feet above me, he glares down, moving in closer as I consider how many different ways I’m going to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat.
“You’re going to want to have a conversation with me, bitch,” he growls right back. “You owe me your life.”
“Oh?” I ask sweetly, turning my face up to look into his eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because I’m willing to let you walk out of here in exchange for some services.” The way he says that makes the urge to hurl grow stronger.
“If you don’t want to die, I suggest you back the fuck off.”
He laughs darkly. “There will be no death for me tonight unless it’s watching as you bleed out on the floor of this club for denying me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elijah get to his feet at the same time Jack does, and Fearghas moves closer.
Unfortunately, my new friend sees them too. “Tell them to stand down or I’ll rip your throat out.”
“You can try.”
“Bitch, I’ve taken out much bigger game than you.”
“I’d love to prove you wrong.” The Hunt surges through my veins, nitro in gasoline, and I grin.
“You’re feisty.” He licks his lips and leans down. “I like that.”
In one swift move, I use my free hand and grip the back of his neck. Yanking down, I slam my knee into his nuts, dropping him to the ground in a pile of howling male.
“You bitch! Kill her!” he roars. Music hammering, dozens of pairs of eyes turn to me at the same time magic pulses through the room and the heavy beating of shifter hearts fill my ears.
“Motherfucker,” I groan, briefly glancing at Elijah. He meets my gaze—separated by at least half a dozen beasts. His chest rises and falls heavily, and I zero in on the sound of his heart in order to curb the fear. He’s too far away to reach before the shitstorm unfolds, especially as I watch them practically salivating over me.
What a bane it is to be popular, am I right? Swallowing hard, I slowly bend down, withdrawing the only two daggers I brought with me. Here’s hoping Fearghas gets our weapons quickly. “Come and get me, assholes.”
They charge. But none of them shift. Knowing I don’t have a ton of time to ponder that particular oddity, I spin and use the stool to jump on top of the bar, searching for the bartender, who’s currently crouched in the back corner of the bar, terrified.
One quick scan of the room shows me Elijah and Jack, back to back, fighting their way through the crowd to get to me while Fearghas looks more than agitated as he uses his bare hands to kill the shifters trying to push through the back of the crowd to me. Why the hell aren’t you dematerializing?
I flip back just in time to avoid a hit to the jaw from an asshole who got on the bar while I was distracted, and I kick out with my foot, knocking the fucker off the bar and into the crowd.
Flinging daggers at my next two targets, I flip off the bar top, landing on the sticky floor and
retrieving my blades from the eye sockets of the two who attacked me. Then, I move on to my next targets.
Shifters fall at my feet as I fight my way to Elijah, the adrenaline surging like rocket fuel. “Come on, assholes!” I scream, trying to draw their attention back to me so Elijah and Jack can start taking them out as they focus on me.
Someone shoves me forward, and I slam into solid muscle. Gulping, I stare up at the largest creature I have ever seen. Definitely a shifter of some kind, he might as well be a fucking rock for all the good I’m going to do.
I suck in a deep breath and charge. When he reaches for me, I go to my knees, sliding the rest of the distance and driving both blades up into his inner thighs. He roars in anger, the sound deafening as he stumbles forward.
Without hesitating, I jump up and spin, gripping his hair and slicing his thick throat before he has time to use his strength against me. Then, I scan the room again.
Fearghas is making quick work of the back of the room, so I turn to try and get to Elijah. Instead, I end up facing off with another man. I ready myself for a fight, but before I can strike, someone tackles me from the side. I slam into the bar top, my head impacting with the solid wood side. Pain explodes in my head, and I try to shake it off but end up stumbling.
Dazed, I move too slowly to avoid a woman jumping on top of me. Her fist slams down into my jaw, and I buck my hips, throwing her over me and rotating so I’m on top. I grip her head and twist, causing a resounding crack barely audible over the sounds of fighting beyond.
The edges of my vision start to waver as power burns into my system.
No. I can’t lose control, not now. I fight to regain myself as panic slows me way the fuck down. I can’t let her have me again.
“Rainey!” Elijah roars, and I force myself to focus as I jump to my feet, slicing out at the nearest shifter. Blood sprays when my dagger meets tender skin. More move in on me, and a boot impacts with my shin. Bone crunches, and I stumble forward, dodging a fist and shoving my dagger between the fucker’s ribs.
Blood Cure: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 3) Page 16
