Chapter Four
“My, my. You didn’t tell me we had one of the dual natured in our presence. Tsk, tsk Marlene.” Guidry narrowed his eyes at Isobel.
Shaking her head, she broke the grip he had on her chin. “Don’t touch me. And don’t ever do whatever that was again.”
The vampire laughed, clearly delighted.
“What color are your eyes?”
“Green.”
“I’d rethink that answer, love.” He turned to Marlene, an elated smile on his face. “They want her for this, don’t they? So bad they’ll use what happened to their advantage so they can keep her under tabs.”
Marlene regarded him with gravity. “I bet they had no idea what was under their noses the whole time. It took almost killing her to prove their point.”
Goddess, if they didn’t stop talking about her like she wasn’t even there…
“What point? What are you talking about?” Isobel stared at them and then it hit her. She’d felt eyes on her. Last night. And even today when she left the museum. It was winter so the sun set earlier than usual.
“It was you. Following me.”
“Guilty.” The vampire bowed and stood up again with a flourish.
“Guidry, I told you to keep out of sight.” Marlene growled. She pulled out a file folder and handed them to Isobel.
“And so I did.”
“What are these?”
“Some other documentation you need to see.” The private investigator moved from behind the desk and settled herself on the corner of it.
Isobel took the file. Leafing through the contents, she found detailed listings and timelines of everything Marlene had just told her. Then she came to a page that didn’t exactly make sense, but was, at the same time, familiar in that weird echoing memory loss kind of way.
The Phoenix.
She rubbed absently at her tattoo and glanced up at Marlene, curious. “Why do you have a dossier on a phoenix?”
Marlene hooked one leg behind the other and leaned forward slightly. “Do you have any experience with them?”
“You mean other than my tattoo?”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “You have a tattoo? Since when?”
Isobel shrugged. “It’s still soup in here, I’m afraid.”
The vampire considered her, but it was Marlene that spoke. “That doesn’t make sense. At least, not physically. You would experience some amnesia for certain, but that would most likely be events leading up to or just after the event itself. Not extending to whenever you got the tat.”
Watching her face, Guidry moved forward and crouched down in front of her. “Tell me anything you can about the tattoo. I’d like to see it, if I may.”
A strange request, but if it helped to find answers, she was willing to try.
Isobel sat forward and shrugged off her jacket, baring her arms to his gaze. “This is it.” Her left upper arm had been the beast’s home since she could remember. “Just don’t touch me.”
Guidry rolled his eyes in mock horror. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The vampire leaned in to inspect the art on her skin, leaning so close she could swear she felt the brush of his nose.
“So nothing about where you got it?” Marlene inquired.
“The work is familiar.” Guidry cocked his head and took a step back, considering the ink.
“How so?” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t strained her brain to find the answers. Having something inked on her skin without knowing where or how it had come into being was at best disconcerting, and at worst damn scary.
“Have you ever heard of a town called Wayfarer? It’s about sixty miles east of here.”
Wayfarer.
Had she?
At this point there was no telling what she’d been up to in her pre accident days.
She opened her mouth to say no when an image flew through her mind. A vague memory of her in a chair, pain sliding through her arm as the needle punctured her skin. The flash of fang as a dark haired woman’s face came into view and masculine laughter from somewhere in the room.
“Cat got your tongue?” The vampire drawled.
She shook her head, unsure exactly how to answer.
“Something sparked, didn’t it?”
“I think so,” she responded with a shaking laugh and relayed what she had just seen. “But I don’t know who it might be.”
“I might have an idea.”
Too much was happening and all at once. And how did she know she could trust him? With all of the cronies the coven had working for them, it made sense to keep things close to the chest.
“Why are you helping me?”
Laughter bubbled out from Guidry’s mouth. “Two words.”
“What?”
“Your boss.”
That didn’t make sense. “Tell me why.”
“Did you see him last night?”
What?
“No.” Wait. Did he mean Denver? Isobel leaned forward in the chair and put her feet on the floor and looked from one to the other. “Who?”
“Shipton.” Guidry said the word like he was scraping dog shit off a shoe. Not that she didn’t agree with him.
“What does he have to do with anything?”
The vampire gave her a pointed look. “Keep reading.”
Isobel snapped the file shut, impatient. “Give me the short version.”
“Fine.” Guidry curled his lip in annoyance. “I was recruited by the lovely Marlene because I have ties all over town. Every vice. Every virtue. And trust me when I tell you I’ve been around long enough to have plenty experience with both.”
For a second she wondered how long, and then decided she didn’t care. She was here for answers, not to play games with this asshole.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A dark chuckle permeated the room. “Your Shipton is known in certain circles for his proclivities.”
That didn’t shock her. She wasn’t a child. “So he has some quirks. Who doesn’t?” And she really, really didn’t want him to tell her. For all she knew, he liked wearing women’s underwear and being spanked with the business end of a stiletto.
She shuddered and tried to scrub the image from her brain.
“Did you also know he’s affiliated with the Bradford Coven?”
Isobel barely resisted rolling her eyes. “Yes. My parents often associated with him at parties.”
Guidry’s lips curved up with a diabolic smile. “And did you ever ask yourself why that was?”
“No. They were political people. I wasn’t.” She fidgeted in the chair, weary of his snarky line of questioning.
“But they tried to get you to be.” His eyes glittered like obsidian.
Isobel nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t work.”
He contradicted her with a smile that set her teeth on edge. “Are you sure?”
She, quite suddenly had had enough. Isobel gave him a brittle smile and rose from her chair. “Marlene, how about a rain check on that wine? The exhibit opens up tomorrow and it’s going to be a long day.”
Marlene stood, stretching. “Look, just be careful of Shipton. You’re not the first young woman to have gotten a job at the museum and find herself under his scrutiny.”
She didn’t even want to think of what that meant.
“Too late. He’s already decided I’m to be his mate.” She shuddered.
“I’m sure you sent him packing.”
“As much as you can talk to a bloviating dragon with a high opinion of himself.”
“What about your missing co-worker? Denver was it?” Guidry watched her, his gaze intense.
“There was blood in his office. On the floor. And I found his phone.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Denver?”
A negative shake of the head met her question. “No. If you found blood in his office and a phone, there’s a good chance the man is already dead. What do you know about Shipton?”
She had to think
about it for a minute. Isobel had spent so much time evading him, she hadn’t really considered much else.
“His hours are erratic. Not much else, really.” Then a horrible thought crept in. “Why? Do you think he did it? Hurt Denver, I mean?”
Guidry’s lips thinned. “It’s possible. Let’s put it this way. He’s been linked to a number of disappearances. All of them have been…undesirables, let’s just say. All the same, I would keep my guard up if I were you.”
The vampire turned his attention to Marlene.
“I agree. Though not much has come out in the usual circles.”
Marlene stalked around the side of her desk and pulled something out of a drawer, holding the item out to Isobel.
She reached for the small silver square and noticed it was a mirror.
“What is this for?”
“Look at yourself.”
She gazed into its mercurial depths and drew back sharply at the image looking back at her. Eyes that had been green for as long as she could remember glowed with amber fire and for a moment she thought it was a spell. It wasn’t. Isobel dropped the mirror onto the padded carpeting and backpedaled back to the chair.
“What the hell?”
“The term is dual natured, my sweet.” Guidry pushed himself off the wall and perched on the far end of the desk, watching her.
“So you said.”
“Think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about. I have no damned idea.” Her skin felt hot and she swallowed, a flash of memory knocking her back.
It was her dream, only the barrage of images was so fast, she could barely keep up. Fire. Flying. Ashes. Shivering cold. And the forgetting. Always the forgetting. But she was done with that. Now, she wanted to remember.
Her arm tingled and she reached for her tattoo.
“I’ll remember you.”
Marlene held her iPad up, a colorful picture of a phoenix emblazoned across the screen.
“This is what he wants.”
“But I don’t have one.” She denied.
“Oh, my dear,” Guidry gave her a sympathetic smile. “You are one.”
Chapter Five
Shipton stalked the halls of the museum, secure in the knowledge that his plan was unfolding just as it was meant to. The deal he’d struck with the Bradford Coven gave him the right to take the phoenix for his own. All he needed was the ceremonial bowl the idiot Denver had hidden from him and it was over. He’d funneled countless artifacts the coven needed through his underground network. Now, it was time for them to pay up.
Damn the owl shifter for getting in the way, but he hadn’t climbed his way over the bones of his predecessors to let this nuisance delay stop him.
Night after night of searching the catacombs beneath the museum had come to naught and he was beginning to lose his patience. The girl had to know something. Thick as thieves, the two of them. But he couldn’t risk giving his position away. Not yet.
His dragon chuckled darkly, flexing his claws.
She would come to him. There was no other choice. Her meticulous nature would demand accounting for the missing piece and he was surprised she hadn’t done so already. Custom decreed he take a mate by his thirty-fifth year and he had mere days to secure his legacy. He need only claim her as mate and his lineage would be safe.
His dragon flexed beneath his skin and he smiled, relishing the thought of what their first time together would be like. He would enjoy her screams as he fucked her while he shifted, his cock filling her to the point of nearly breaking her apart.
The image excited him. Maybe he would let her run and try to escape. He’d always enjoyed a good hunt. Normally, he saved such temporary pleasures for his weekend diversions, but he had a pressing need to taste the power of a phoenix and absorb her strength into his body. There was nothing like the still beating heart of a warm blooded female to make his own blood sing.
Her family had already proven to him what she could do. One death had wiped out all the inconvenient hassles of a teenage paramour. Three days would be all he would have to wait before he could manipulate her into the pliant creature he wanted her to become. How many times could he secure an heir and kill her, he wondered.
The forests on the outskirts of Davenport, Texas were wide and deep and there was no one around his family’s estate for miles.
Yes. He would wait. He would teach her what it meant to dismiss him all these years. And the best part was, there was no one to stop him.
Whistling, he slid his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.
“Yes. I want a girl. Red hair. Disposable. Send her to the usual address.” The world was full of vice. He would cleanse it with his fire and purify her soul in the process. Culling the herd had its purposes.
The night was young and his dragon was hungry. But, even better…so was he.
He continued down the darkened passage until he came to a locked door. Punching in the code, he entered, secure in the knowledge that he was alone. No doubt his future mate would be searching the owl shifter’s office to try and locate the man.
He did admire her spunk. That, and she had a nice heart shaped ass he was looking forward to taking a piece out of.
A dark chuckle followed in his wake as he traversed the tunnel. If he were to continue, it would lead him to his family’s estate. But that was not his intent. Generations of Shipton dragons had ruled over this museum and the treasures held within, as would many generations more. He would mate with the fire witch and secure his future as the most powerful dragon in his line. Phoenix blood would see to that.
But first, he had to find the ceremonial bowl. The witches assured him that blood magic with the bowl would give him his heart’s desire. And his unintended guest was going to help him. His footsteps echoed through the tunnels and he came to a series of three doors. Two were cavernous vaults holding his family’s treasure horde that had been stolen over the centuries. The third was a room set up as accommodations for the occasional prisoner or evening paramour.
The current occupant definitely fell under the former category.
Unlocking it with an old fashioned key, Shipton pushed the door open to reveal a very pissed off owl tethered to an iron ring on the floor.
“You’re awake, I see.” He traversed toward a cage that held two large rats. He picked one out, holding it toward the owl. “I’m sure you’re hungry. But, you see, so am I. Your very delightful understudy is about to come on the menu. Your…cooperation…would ensure she has a much better time.”
A screeching cry erupted from the beast, his bright yellow eyes blinking. He flapped his wings and paced from foot to foot.
“I want to help you, Denver. The exhibit is a monumental success. You should be proud. In fact, when they find your body, I’ll make sure Isobel knows just how much you cared about her. Right before I bury my cock inside her sweet, hot pussy and make her my mate.”
The bird screeched, fury vibrating through its body, the white and black features ruffled to their most threatening.
Shipton laughed at the bird’s discomfort.
His dragon slid beneath his skin, and just to prove a point, he allowed his beast to come to the surface. The shift happened quickly, his suit shredded in seconds as the powerful form of the beast filled the space. While not as cavernous as the two treasure chambers, it was still large enough for a dragon to move about comfortably.
The rat squirmed in his talons, squealing in fear and trying to use its pathetic teeth and claws to break free. His stomach rumbled and he loosed the pent up fire from his gullet, aiming at the small, furry beast in his grip.
The creature’s death cry was both sudden and brief as he bit the head off, throwing the rest of the carcass at Denver’s feet.
One swallow and he flicked his tail, allowing the change to come back over him. Human once more, he made his way toward a selection of clothing and put on a new suit and button down shirt. It was important to stay true to one’s image, no matter the cost.
“I’ll give you till tomorrow night to think this over, owl. Tell me where the bowl is and I’ll consider sparing your life. Don’t tell me, and we’ll see what other treats I have in store.”
Fixing his cuff links, Shipton exited the room, whistling as he stalked down the tunnel back toward the museum. The hour was getting late and his diversion would be getting dropped off at the gates of his estate any time. He would enjoy this hunt as he had all the others, and when he was done all that would be left of the female would be a pile of ashes that would never, ever come back.
Chapter Six
Remington Museum
He was crazy for coming, that much he knew, but as Roark stepped through the museum doors and paid for his overpriced ticket, he couldn’t help but feel like Isobel would have loved being here.
Marble floors stretched on for what seemed like miles and echoing rooms with stately columns sported all manner of historic and scientific offerings. Hell, there were even a couple of gift shops. One for the kids with stuffed dinosaurs and jumbles of rocks. The other with higher priced baubles like stained glass, replications of art from their star exhibits, and jewelry.
The weight of her book against his side was a steady comfort. It often resided in his suit pocket as a reminder of the girl he loved. It also went with him on every job. The large pockets in his turnout gear provided ample places to stow her well-loved copy of Bulfinch’s Mythology. It also gave him a very real reminder of what he’d lost.
He continued his perusal of the Remington Museum, taking in the din of the families, groups of scouts and tourists. The smell of French fries and burgers told him there was a familiar chain restaurant in the food area and as he turned his head, he saw the line of museum goers cued up, most with small children clamoring to place their order.
Further down was what appeared to be a higher caliber dining room. A young man in a tuxedo greeted diners with cloth napkins and menus in hand, guiding them deeper inside the expanse. He caught a glimpse of a fish tank as he moved down the hall, instantly regretting not eating dinner before he came.
Bound In Fire: Phoenix Shifter Paranormal Page 6
