Devil's Cut: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series

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Devil's Cut: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series Page 4

by L. A. McGinnis


  “I can’t do three entire days,” she protested, her cheeks flushing as she fumed. Her shield was falling apart.

  “Really? Five million dollars, and you can’t spare three days?”

  I figured a little guilt was better than a full-blown argument. I had learned something about women in all my time on this planet.

  Selena’s face betrayed her every thought as she went to war with herself. I didn’t even have to read her mind—her face gave her away completely, something else we’d have to conquer before I’d allow her around any of my kind.

  “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “Three days.” She didn’t look happy about it, but that was one less hurdle. This way we could…

  I shook the image out of my head. What was I hoping for? That we enjoyed the trip? That I’d tumble into her bed, and then what? After only two days, I was attached, and I couldn’t afford to be. I had to remember that Selena was a tool—my tool—to survive Assembly.

  “You have to be ready,” I warned her, pulling my mind away from the consequences if she failed. “Which means we keep working on this. As for your temper…you must learn to control it.”

  “I can do this.”

  “I know you think you can. But I’m not putting you in a dangerous situation unless you’re prepared.” Since when? I asked myself. She was useful to me, that was all. But even telling myself that, I knew it was a lie. My membership in the Ouroboros Society came with only one requirement—protecting humans with rare abilities—and right now, that edict was at odds with my objective, to survive Assembly.

  Safeguarding humans didn’t exactly mesh with using her ability to give me an edge with my brethren, but damned if I wouldn’t try to do both. I’d never met—never heard—of a human who could read vampire minds. But now that I had, I felt the urge to protect Selena, even as I trained her to spy for me.

  “I’ll be ready,” she insisted. “I don’t even know why…but I’m inclined to help you.” The sweet scent of fear mixed with adrenaline filled the space around us, and I drew a subtle breath. It went straight to my head, and I turned away as my fangs descended. She leaned forward in her chair. “Besides, I’m not in the habit of letting anyone down.”

  That much was apparent. She was smart and determined, but she was so damn young that I couldn’t fathom how she’d ended up in charge at Langston-Forge. Yet when I’d skimmed through the company website, there she was, front and center as the acting CEO.

  Pretending I was inspecting the flowers, I asked, “How did you end up running the company? You’re a bit young for that much responsibility.”

  “Just for future reference, those are the kinds of questions you get in trouble for asking these days.” When I turned, she raked me with the same derisive look I’d given her when I first saw her. “It wasn’t like I asked for it. I was in college, taking business classes, hoping that maybe, someday, I could step into Dad’s shoes at the distillery.”

  Her face flushed, and even from here, I heard her heartbeat speed up. “But then my asshole brother decided to clear all his drug and gambling debts by putting the company up as collateral. It took everything we had to pay off the loan shark. Since then, it’s been a constant game of catch-up.”

  As before, myriad emotions flickered over her face. Regret, anger, resignation.

  “This brother of yours, where is he now?” I knew my voice had turned hard, but I couldn’t help it. If I were her, I’d wring the little shit’s neck and force him to repay the damn loan himself. I couldn’t imagine being so irresponsible to risk everything my family had built for a personal debt.

  “Dead, along with Dad.”

  Fuck. I’d assumed she was a spoiled-rotten rich girl the first time I saw her. But that wasn’t it at all. She was fighting to fix her brother’s screwups and fill her dad’s shoes, with all her hopes riding on some barrels in an old barn.

  While I was using her to leverage a situation to my advantage.

  “You are saying none of this—the company, the loan from me—none of this was your doing?”

  “Not really. But Langston-Forge has employees who depend on us, a reputation to preserve and someone had to step up. And I’m the only Langston left.”

  8

  As I gave Forge the short, no-frills version of the last six months of my life, his face changed, ever so slightly. Granted, I’d only known him for a day, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Forge was angry.

  “Look, it’s no big deal.” I waved it off. “Sure, I’d planned on finishing college first, but it isn’t like I’m a noob or anything. I’ve spent more time at L&F than anyone except maybe Holloway. You could say I’ve picked up a few things along the way.”

  “Who mixed the special batch you brought yesterday? You know, the bribe to maneuver me into helping you?”

  Now I smiled, glad that Forge saw it for what it was. “That was Dad’s last batch, from twelve years ago. He believed it would be special, swore up and down this would put us on the map. But he had a stroke later that year and was never the same again. He couldn’t use his left side, and his memory… It was pretty bad after that. But I helped him mix that day, and I took careful notes. I’ve used that same recipe ever since.”

  Forge grew more intense, if that was even possible. “How much more do you have?”

  “Eight years’ worth. Almost one hundred and fifty million dollars, if I’ve calculated it correctly.” Regret and anger ached in my chest while I added, “But this batch? When I bottle this one, I’m naming it after Dad.”

  Forge didn’t say anything about that, but I got the feeling he approved. “This man, you called him a loan shark? What about him?”

  “He made some noise at first.” Like threatening to kill me. “Hoping to squeeze more money out of me…or rather, the company. But he left us alone once he discovered how close we were to bankruptcy.” A small laugh escaped my lips. “Can’t squeeze blood from a turnip, Dad always said.”

  “His name?”

  “It’s over, Forge. Leave it alone,” I warned him. The expression on his face got darker, deep furrows forming on his forehead. He wasn’t scary, exactly, since I didn’t think his anger was directed at me, but my breathing picked up when our eyes locked. I seldom lost a battle of wills, but it was me who dropped my gaze first.

  When I looked up, he was right in front of me. I’d never even seen him move.

  “It’s never over with those people,” he growled, offering me an up-close view of his fangs. Viscerally, I was shocked at the sight of them, my muscles freezing, although I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Forge was a vampire; I knew that. It was only that he seemed so genteel, while nothing about those long, sharp canines was civilized.

  “It is, I promise. He’s gone.”

  For a second, I thought he’d ask for the loan shark’s name again, but he must have decided against it. His eyes were completely unreadable when he ordered me, “Go home. Keep practicing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  This time, I followed his orders without question.

  9

  Ten minutes later, I was navigating the winding roads back to the city, replaying Forge’s rather abrupt brush-off. I thought maybe he’d give cracking my shield another try, but we’d veered into territory that—especially in my dark car on a dark country road—I deeply regretted entering.

  I hadn’t intended to go to him, hat in hand, begging for money, then lay the clusterfuck that was my life right in front of him. Far from it. I intended to secure the loan, pay him back in six months and never see him again. A one-and-done sort of thing.

  I’d saved the company, but now circumstances were throwing us together too often for comfort. The bigger problem was that there was something about Forge that made me want to tell him everything. He probably thinks I’m crazy. I groaned, maneuvering the car around a tight turn.

  I wasn’t even lying when I’d said I wanted to help him. For some reason—maybe simply to avoid my own problems—I was looking forward to this Sco
tland trip, even if it did involve vampires. I’d always planned to go, but life got in the way, more times than I cared to count.

  Besides, I was beyond curious about this freaky ability of mine. I didn’t understand it, but with Forge willing to help me, at least I had a safety net. A grumpy, enigmatic safety net, but still, I had someone to help me through this. While I was grateful, questions continued to stack up. Could it be genetic? Some kind of family curse, although I’d never heard so much as a whisper of such?

  Or was it a fluke, with no rhyme nor reason to it?

  I mulled over that one for a few miles, chewing on the possibilities. The human world and the vampire one rarely—if ever—overlapped. It wasn’t like I knew much about them, despite Forge’s historical entanglements with my family.

  If vampires were a mystery, then Forge was the biggest one of all. I’d been fascinated with Forge my entire life, from the mysterious loan, to how he’d gotten tangled up with Ambrose in the first place. He was the skeleton in the Langston closet, and I always assumed everyone had one just like it. It wasn’t until I was fifteen that I realized not every family personally knew a vampire, much less put their name on the front of the building.

  Stories about Forge—and about Ambrose, my whisky-loving ancestor—were traded between Dad and Grandpa, between Holloway and Dad, between the long-timers who’d worked for L&F their whole lives. I’d listened to every single one, some more than once. The result? I was completely mesmerized by Bastian Forge, which was why I’d left his painting up. Just a little reminder of the family secret, and the vampire who’d become somewhat of an obsession.

  I didn’t hear from Forge for a week, which was strange, considering our deadline.

  When he did contact me, it wasn’t with a scrawled note thrown on my desk. He sent me a text message. Brutal and to the point, which I was learning was Forge’s style.

  We are ready to resume. Come prepared.

  That night, the gates were once again thrown open, and the gardens looked almost sculpted as compared to a week ago. Like last time, light blazed from the windows. And, like then, Forge ambushed me, just before I managed to extricate myself from the car. I ended up getting caught in the door this time, and tumbled out onto the gravel.

  “You need to learn to always be prepared, Selena,” Forge said as he offered me his hand. I ignored it and dusted gravel off my ass.

  “Every second of my life?” I asked. I’d agreed to help him with this distasteful favor, but I had demands at the company, decisions to make now that we were in the black again. When I’d approached Forge, I didn’t think I’d be worrying about mind-reading vampires. Come to think of it, how was I supposed to tell the difference between vampires and humans? Forge looked… Well, true, he looked different than any human I’d ever even seen before, but maybe that was an anomaly. Surely all vampires weren’t this muscled and hot.

  Shit, Selena, mind reading—remember?

  He observed me carefully, his face going blank when he saw how closely I was watching him. “Of course not. You have to be able to protect yourself, and that means being prepared. You know what happened last time; you should have expected me to try something similar tonight.”

  “Yeah, well…” I’d spent the entire drive here mulling over the puzzle that Forge presented. Instead of, like he’d said, readying my defense. “Okay, point taken. Try again.”

  This time I actually managed to hold him off for almost a minute. Then my shield cracked like an egg and split open, offering up my innermost thoughts like an oyster. “No mind reading,” I warned him sternly.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured me as he ushered me inside. The house seemed…newer, somehow, as if twenty years had been taken off the interior. Each room was polished and sparkling, now that they weren’t languishing in the shadows. Unfortunately, I only got a glimpse of each, because with Forge leading the way, I practically had to run to keep up. He was dressed in a black V-neck sweater and matching slacks, but instead of making him look urbane, the combination made him look dangerous. Sexy.

  “This is…gorgeous,” I commented as we passed by yet another opulent room. “How long have you lived here?”

  “I built this place around nineteen hundred. I’ve been here since, though I do still own a property or two in Scotland.”

  God, I wished he’d slow down a bit. I hustled to keep up.

  “Do you go there often?” It seemed like a perfectly innocuous question, but his face darkened, and I kept my mouth shut after that. No sense in stirring anything up. I wasn’t looking to know his most intimate secrets, just making polite conversation. At least, that was what I told myself as I sized Forge up from behind, most definitely not looking at his spectacular ass.

  Previously I hadn’t had an opportunity to study him, since I was usually trying to keep him out of my head. He was an imposing figure. He walked with the careless ease of a powerful man, and as we turned down another hallway, I wondered how big this place was. Certainly bigger than it looked from outside.

  “I thought that tonight we’d practice in here.”

  The dark hallway opened up to a greenhouse, the domed glass roof offering a fractured glimpse of the stars and a dark blue velvet sky. The space was empty, just a barren flagstone floor and glass all around us. The lack of walls gave me the feeling we were floating in nothingness. I’d never been afraid of the dark, but the hair on the back of my neck stood up as I scanned the impenetrable woods outside.

  “You’ve made progress, but you still have far to go. Tonight, we’ll make that shield of yours impenetrable. Ready?”

  I’d barely nodded when he was in my head, working to break my shield apart. I scrambled around, patching holes, fixing cracks and generally putting out fires as he poked holes in my hard-won barrier. “Come on, Forge, give me a break here,” I pleaded as he once again stripped away another section, leaving me exposed.

  A smile edged up one side of his mouth when I called him Forge, but he didn’t stop, and by the time we took a break an hour later, I had sweat dripping down my back and my head was spinning. “Okay,” I said, certain I had the hang of it this time. “How about this?”

  This time when he poked, my shield held. It might not be completely impenetrable, but it was definitely my best work so far. When he flashed me a smile—little more than an upturned corner of his mouth—I held my breath and got ready. Although I felt that unnerving maggot-squirming sensation, he wasn’t able to rip through it.

  “That, I believe, will do, Selena.”

  A feeling of euphoria filled me up, both from knowing I’d mastered this, and because of the pride in his voice. Even though it was ridiculous, I thrived on success and, apparently, having someone tell me so.

  “That deserves a drink, don’t you think?” he said.

  I did think so. Relief caused me to lower my guard, and without a word, Forge ripped away my shield. Bastard.

  This time there was no doubt that Forge smiled, his white teeth flashing in the dark.

  “I’m no bastard, just for the record.” His soft laughter filled up the greenhouse. “Always, Selena, your shield has to remain in place. Especially during the meeting—no exceptions. If anything goes wrong, you will protect yourself, and not worry about anything else.”

  “Well, okay.” I grudgingly settled my shield back into place and trudged behind him as he led the way back through the bewildering maze of rooms. He flicked a switch and a chandelier blazed to life and illuminated the room. We’d ended up in a library. A gorgeous, beautiful library.

  “Wow. Now this is a room I could spend hours in.” I did another turn, slower this time, taking in the dark, carved bookcases, the obvious expense of the rugs, the huge chandelier in the room. And the books it contained. With shelf after shelf of gold-embossed covers, I’d never seen anything like it. My hands itched to tip one out and take a closer look.

  “Anytime you’d like,” Forge commented absently as he set two crystal glasses on the huge desk. “You
can help yourself, so long as you return them. There are some I’m quite fond of.”

  I reached up and stroked a spine. The leather felt papery, soft almost, and up close, they smelled delicious, like fall leaves. I pulled the book closer, squinting—Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities. It was probably a first edition and worth a fortune. I gently pushed the book back in with its neighbors.

  “For now, I’d like your opinion on this,” Forge said as he poured two healthy fingers into the glasses from a crystal decanter. Which meant I had no way of telling what this actually was. When he handed me the glass, challenge shone in his dark eyes.

  “Nice color,” I commented, holding it up to the light. Not quite as pale as my whiskeys, this had more of a chestnut color, and the smell… I drew in the heady scent of caramel and toffee. “What is this?” I wondered out loud as Forge sank into one of the leather chairs. The smell was…intoxicating, almost nutty, but I still smelled the oak underlying the peaty aroma.

  “Taste it and tell me—you’re the expert,” Forge said, raising his glass to his lips, as I did the same.

  God, it was like sipping heaven. Forget Dad’s special batch; this was deeper, richer, so many layers of flavors, and damn if I couldn’t help but take another sip. “It’s… I’ve never tasted anything quite like it,” I told Forge. “Never, and I’ve tasted pretty much everything on the market, since keeping up with our competition is a necessity.”

  His smile turned secretive, a challenge I couldn’t ignore.

  “It’s old,” I offered haltingly, trying to put the exquisite taste—the experience—into words and failing miserably. “Older than anything I’ve ever tasted, maybe.” Age was the only explanation for the depth of the flavor. A crazy idea occurred to me, though I immediately discounted it.

  As if he knew my thoughts, Forge’s smile grew wide. Forget handsome—set against the elegance of this room, he became every bit as beautiful as his surroundings. I, on the other hand, was most definitely out of place.

 

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