“She didn’t answer, did she?” Jesse blurted out as soon as Blake re-entered the room.
Jesse’s outburst seemed to take him by surprise, as though he’d forgotten Jesse could talk. “No,” Blake frowned. “But it’s late. She’s probably asleep by now.”
Jesse studied his face. When he found the faint traces of doubt in his eyes, he pushed a little harder. “It’s possible. But what if she can’t answer?” He had Blake’s attention now. “What if Peter’s holding her hostage somewhere so that Ian would back up his story.”
He knew he’d pushed too hard when Blake’s lip curled up into a sneer. “Like you forced him to back up yours? Maybe you’ve got her stashed somewhere?” He took a step towards Jesse, gun raised.
“I left Cate at the bar, you can check with her co-workers, and I didn’t force Ian to do anything.”
“No? I’ve known Ian for sixteen years, there’s no way he’d have asked you to kill him so that he could become a monster like you.”
Jesse seized on the first bit of that sentence. “That’s right. You’ve known Ian a long time. You spoke to him tonight, when I was with Cate. Did it seem like he was lying? That he was being coerced? That she was?”
Blake glared at him for a long time, as though he could extract the truth from him that way. “No.” The word seemed torn begrudgingly from his mouth. “But why has he suddenly changed his story and blamed you for everything now that he’s safely away from the coven?”
“What about tonight then?” Jesse asked softly, refusing to react. “Now you’ve seen him in person. Does he seem like he’s telling the truth?”
Blake looked down at his feet, but not before Jesse caught the flash of guilt in his eyes. “I haven’t seen him tonight.”
Ahh.
“He’s still Ian,” Jesse tried.
Blake’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “He died, for God’s sake! You killed him and you brought him back by feeding him your fucking blood, turning him into a . . .” He shook his head, mouth clamping shut.
“A vampire.” Jesse whispered. “His body doesn’t work the way it used to, but his soul is the same.” Jesse had always believed that. As wounded as his had been when he’d been changed, he was still the same inside and so was Ian. “He’s the same Ian who’s been your best friend for the last fifteen years, who’d protect Cate with his life, and I think that’s exactly what’s happening now.”
Blake looked torn.
Watts had been quiet this whole time, but when Blake turned to him, he gave a slight shake of his head. “You can’t trust him, Jones. Vampires lie. All of them.”
“But what if he’s telling the truth, what if they’ve got Cate?”
Watt’s shrugged. “Ask Harper if he’ll send someone round to her place to check on her.”
Blake glanced at the door, then back at Jesse.
Watts adjusted his gun and widened his stance. “Go. I’ve got this.”
With a sharp nod, Blake rushed out the door.
Thank fuck. Jesse didn’t care if Blake believed him or not, at least things were in motion now. He hoped he hurried back though; Jesse didn’t trust Watts not to just take care of things himself.
Time dragged by one second at a time, not helped by Jesse staring at the door.
Despite watching it like a hawk, he still jumped when it burst open and two armed VLCD guards marched in. The first waved his gun in Jesse’s direction. “We’re moving him to the cells.”
“What for?” Jesse asked, but they ignored him, hoisting him from his seat and unshackling him from the table. A metal collar snapped around his neck, burning the skin, and Jesse hissed in pain.
“That’s just until we get you locked away. Then it can come off.” He sounded apologetic at least.
“What’s happening?” Watt’s asked, stepping out of their way but keeping his gun on Jesse.
“Cate Weston wasn’t at her flat and isn’t answering her phone. GPS puts her at his flat.” He nodded at Jesse.
Jesse wanted to scream.
Fucking Peter.
“Harper wants him in the cells while we go investigate.”
“What about the others?”
The officer grinned, raising the hairs on the back of Jesse’s neck. “Harper thinks they’re all fucking involved. Wouldn’t surprise me if they join him.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
They were going to put Raph in the cells? Jesse didn’t give a fuck about Peter—he deserved to be there. But not Raph.
This was all his fault.
“What about Ian?” Jesse asked. Surely they couldn’t think he was in on it.
For a minute he didn’t think he’d get an answer, but the guy sighed and faced him. “He’ll be tagged and then put in a cell for his own safety since he’s newly turned. He’ll be released to a coven when all this shit is sorted.”
“Thanks.”
The guard grunted, then pulled him forward. “Come on.”
IAN SAT THERE as Peter paced back and forth, trying to contain the hysterical laughter threatening to come out. Peter was insane. There was no other explanation.
The lies he wanted Ian to tell were so unbelievable, they’d be lucky if Harper didn’t laugh and lock them both up. Ian kept his mouth shut though. Everything about Peter screamed danger, as though one wrong move or word might set him off, and Ian refused to die—again—at Peter’s fucking hands.
“What the fuck is taking so long?”
Ian wondered the same thing? He’d expected Raph to be back by now. They’d had ample time to look at all the tracker data and form some sort of conclusion.
The thought made Ian nervous.
As did the way Peter constantly played with his phone, flipping it over and over in his hands, making Ian want to reach out and snatch it off him.
If he thought he could get away with it, he would. That was his only link to Cate and her abductors. It’d been too risky before, Ian hadn’t trusted them not to kill Cate anyway if Peter failed to keep in contact, and back then he’d thought she’d had a slim chance of getting out of this alive. Maybe that had been wishful thinking on his part, but this latest web of lies had pretty much sealed her death warrant.
If he could just get that phone, then Peter had no way to contact them, at least not while they were at the VLCD headquarters. Without the threat to Cate’s life hanging over his head, Ian could tell the truth. He could save Jesse and they could try and find Cate somehow.
If anyone would believe him, that was.
He’d changed his story so many times, he wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t.
The door swung open before Ian could make his move, but it wasn’t Raph on the other side. It was Harper. He walked into the room, armed, with four guards trailing in behind him. They lined up, two on either side of Harper.
Guns raised.
Ian took an instinctive step back, hands rising of their own volition.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Peter snapped.
He started to walk forward, but Harper’s barked, “Stay where you are,” stopped him in his tracks.
“Where’s Raph?”
“Mr Miller is still helping us with our enquiries. Some interesting things have come to light. Things that need further investigation, but suffice it to say they cast sufficient doubt on yours and Mr Moreton’s description of events.”
Peter’s hand tightened around his phone, grip so tight Ian heard the case creak. It was the only outward sign that Peter was nervous. “What sort of things? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding that we can easily sort out.”
Harper hesitated, as though debating whether to divulge information. “Cate Weston is missing.”
Peter’s back went rigid, and Ian would bet everything that he’d never expected them to discover that. At least not yet anyway.
Please let them find her fast.
And alive.
He wanted to tell them who had her, but not while Peter still had hold of that fucking phone. A quick ta
p of a few buttons and that would be it.
What makes you think she’s missing?” Peter fished, none too subtly.
“The fact that she’s not at home, isn’t answering her phone, and GPS puts her at Sykes’s place. I’ve just sent my men to investigate.”
Peter’s hands started to shake. It all slotted into place. He’d probably intended to kill her there and somehow blame it on Ian, but if they found her, it was all over for him. Ian wanted to cheer.
“You both need to come with us now.” Harper pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket.
Peter’s gaze shot to them, and his eyes narrowed. “Are we under arrest?” Ian was surprised at how calmly he asked.
“Not yet. But you are a person of interest. The cuffs are just a precaution until we get you to a cell.”
“A cell?” Peter took a huge step back, and it was the first time Ian had seen him truly unnerved. The whole room crackled with tension, and Ian took a deliberate step away from Peter, arms still raised in supplication. No way did he want to get caught up if anything kicked off. And from the way Peter’s expression darkened, it was about to. “I’m not going to one of your fucking cells; I haven’t committed any crime.”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “Evidence would seem to suggest otherwise.”
“What evidence? You’ve got the killer in custody with the victim right here proclaiming his guilt.” He gestured to Ian, and Ian flinched, couldn’t help it.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss details of the case with you.”
“If I’m not under arrest, why are you trying to lock me up?”
“For everyone’s protection,” Harper offered.
“Certainly not mine.” Peter glanced at Ian, and it was only then Ian caught sight of Peter’s phone, the screen on and showing a call in progress.
That sneaky fucker.
“I can assure you Detective Inspector, I’m not going to rampage around your headquarters while you and your men go hunting for Cate at Jesse’s house. If you’re certain the GPS in her phone is accurate.”
Ian made a small sound of protest, and all eyes focused in on him.
Peter ended the call and discreetly slipped his phone into his pocket, expression smug.
If they moved Cate before the VLCD got there, he’d never be able to tell the truth. A voice at the back of Ian’s mind told him that he and Cate were probably as good as dead anyway, but he ignored it. He had to believe they could still get out of this somehow.
Well, Cate anyway.
Harper raised the cuffs again. “They can come off as soon as you’re safely in the cell.”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be necessary because I have no intention of going to your fucking cells. If I’m not under arrest, then I’m free to leave, right?”
Harper hesitated, and Ian glanced between them, edging himself towards the wall. “I’d rather you came voluntarily.”
“To one of your underground death boxes?” Peter scoffed. “I don’t fucking think so. Kindly tell your men to get their guns out of my face and let me pass.”
Ian waited, wondering what the agreement said about situations like this. Surely the VLCD held all the cards here?
Harper’s earpiece came to life, the voice on the other end, declaring, “They’ve got her.”
Ian’s heart skipped a phantom beat, hardly daring to believe it was all over.
“Your men can’t have got there that quickly,” Peter murmured, eyes wide and panicky, setting Ian on edge.
“No, they’re still en route.”
“Then who—”
Peter’s phone rang, startling him. He glanced down at the screen, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as Michael’s name flashed up.
Harper levelled his gun at Peter’s head. “Answer it.”
Looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do, Peter answered the call.
Instead of Michael, it was Lys on the other end, and Ian couldn’t stop his grin. Peter stared at the screen as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Surprised to see me, Peter? Yeah, I bet you fucking are.” She grinned at him, all teeth, and Ian was too busy looking at the phone screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cate, to notice the change in Peter’s body language.
Like a cornered animal, Peter realised he was in trouble and reacted the only way he knew how.
He attacked.
It happened so quickly.
The phone was in Peter’s hand one moment, the next it went hurtling through the air straight at Harper’s head, knocking him unconscious. He fell to the floor, opening a pathway to the door, and Peter darted towards it. The rapid sound of gunfire filled the room as the guards reacted, but Peter was fast. Like a bolt of lightning, he shot towards freedom, taking the two nearest guards out with a flick of each hand, sending them barrelling into their teammates and crashing to the floor.
Then he was gone.
Forced to duck for cover when the firing started, Ian jumped up. He was seconds away from running after Peter when the scent of blood hit him—rich and intoxicating—filling the air around him until it was all Ian could focus on.
Moving on instinct, Ian started towards the nearest prone guard, eyes fixed on the steadily growing pool of blood under his head. He licked his lips, fangs already out and aching with the need to sink into warm flesh.
It felt like a haze descended, his mind no longer his own, his sole focus the unconscious VLCD officer in front of him.
Ian shot forward, fangs bared, ready to feed his craving. He could almost taste the blood on his tongue as he crouched down, so close to claiming his prize. Opening his mouth, Ian went to bite down.
“Ian! No!”
A weight slammed into him from the side, sending him back and away from the guard.
Ian hissed out a warning, struggling against the arms that held him.
“Hey, it’s me,” Jesse whispered, his voice breaking through the haze.
“Jesse?” Ian shook himself, the room coming back into focus with a snap.
“Yeah.” Jesse rested his head on Ian’s shoulder.
The tang of blood lingered in the air and Ian clung to Jesse’s shoulders, fingers digging in way too hard, but he daren’t let go. “I can’t fight it.”
“You can.” Jesse squeezed him, as though he could force the words into him. “You need to concentrate on me, on my scent.”
Ian buried his face in the crook of Jesse’s neck and breathed as deeply as he could, trying to block out everything but Jesse. It worked for a moment or two, but as soon as he raised his head, the smell of blood was there, tempting him. “It’s not helping.”
Jesse seemed to hesitate. “Then think about the guilt you’ll feel if you feed on those men and snatch their lives away. They have families, people waiting for them to come home. Think of all the lives you’ll ruin if you give in to your hunger.”
Jesse’s words were harsh and cruel, but they hit home and guilt rushed into Ian as though he’d already done it. Already killed them. The urge to feed receded enough for Ian to relax his grip on Jesse. “Thanks,” he muttered, feeling like shit.
“Hey.” Jesse nudged Ian with his shoulder until Ian raised his head and met Jesse’s gaze. “It’s okay. Nothing happened.”
“But it would’ve done. The only reason it didn’t is because you stopped me.” He searched Jesse’s face for . . . something. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but what he found was understanding and maybe a touch of guilt.
“I know.” Jesse kept hold of him, grip not lessening in the slightest for which Ian was extremely grateful. “Raph’s gone to find you some blood. Harper said they kept a small supply for emergencies.” He hesitated. “So . . . if I let go of you, are you going to try and eat Detective Sergeant Marlow again?”
Ian shuddered, still horrified at what he’d almost done. Would still do, judging by the way the scent of it called to him. “Honestly? I’m not sure. He smells so fucking good.”
; “Ian,” Jesse soothed, stroking his cheek. “It’s okay. You should never have been put in this situation in the first place. Fucking Peter.”
Ian slumped against him, then straightened again. “What about Peter? Did he—”
“They caught him. Blake stabbed him with an iron stake.”
“How fitting. Is he dead?” Ian fucking hoped so.
He felt Jesse shake his head. “No. Not yet anyway. They took him down to the cells.”
“Good.” Jesse closed his eyes, breathing in Jesse’s scent again in an effort to keep his mind off the blood in the air. “What about Cate? You know that’s the only reason I changed my story, right? He threatened to kill her and—”
“I know, Ian. You did what you had to. I understand.” He ran his nose along the column of Ian’s throat, and Ian hummed with pleasure. “And Cate’s fine. A little shaken—well, a lot shaken, actually—but she’s on her way here with Lys and Liam.”
Christ. More vampires.
She was going to have nightmares for weeks.
Hurried footsteps sounded outside, and Raph appeared along with more VLCD officers who quickly started treating their wounded. Raph picked his way towards them, two bags of blood in hand. “Get these down you.”
Ian didn’t hesitate, grabbing both bags from Raph and drinking greedily until there was nothing left. With his thirst sated and no longer a danger to those around him, Ian slumped back against the wall.
He looked from Jesse to Raph. “So it’s over, right?”
“Yeah.” Jesse smiled back at him and reached out to stroke along his jaw. “It’s over. You can go back to the coven with Raph and he’ll get you settled in your own room, introduce you to the rest of the coven.”
“If you want to remain with us, of course. The choice is yours,” Raph added.
“Of course I want to stay with you.” Ian frowned. He was missing something. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” For the first time he noticed the collar around Jesse’s neck and the red chaffed skin underneath it. “Why the fuck have you still got that thing on?”
Jesse’s smile faded to bittersweet. “Because I’m not free to go.” He gestured to his neck. “You could’ve overpowered me at any time you know.” Ian tried not to think about that. “They only let me come to you because of the collar and the promise that Raph would stay with us until they come for me.”
Wounded Soul Page 25
