“No,” a whisper. More blood trickled from his lips. She wiped it with her hand. Natasha looked around and found some of her ripped shirt, which she used to wipe his mouth.
“Nat … a … sha.” His voice was strained.
“No. Don’t talk. Don’t move and don’t talk. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” Her eyes stung but she held back her tears. She needed to be strong for him.
“No,” stronger this time although the wheezing sounded worse. “Get. Away.” He shook his head and coughed. There was more blood. Not as much this time. He tried to push at her with one of his hands.
“What?” She frowned. She had to have heard him wrong.
“Away.” His eyes weren’t as focused. “From me.”
“No. Forget that. I’m here to stay. I’m here to help.”
“No!” Softer … weaker. “I. Bad. I …” His breathing was shallower. He grabbed her arm. His grip surprisingly strong for someone with a hole in his chest. Straight through his heart. Someone who was breathing with a lung that sounded like it was shredded.
“Go away.” He looked like he meant it. Then he fell back, his eyes closed.
For a moment she was afraid he was dead. For real this time.
“Titan!” she yelled. “Please,” she added, on a sob. His chest rose and fell. Although there was still wheezing and rasping.
26
The next morning …
Everything hurt. Breathing. Each and every beat of his heart. Moving … not going to happen. He straddled consciousness and sleep. Preferring to stay down for as long as possible. Less painful that way.
Something moved. Something warm. He could scent … Fuck! Titan forced himself to wake up. To feel.
Anguish.
Despair.
Hate, so much hate. That, and bitter disappointment. All aimed at himself. He’d hurt Natasha. His female. The love of his life. He had hurt that which was more precious to him than life itself.
Titan sat up with a loud moan. Natasha fell back on the sofa. How the two of them had fit on the thing was beyond him.
She reached for him but he shrugged her off. “What are you still doing here?” His voice was rough from disuse and raw with emotion.
“Are you angry I shot you? You had better not be—”
“No, fuck!” he spoke more harshly than he intended. “No,” softer this time. “I hurt you.” He sat up, all the way, planting his feet on the floor. “I’m angry with myself.” Moving to the very edge of the sofa. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to erase the events from the night before. They were a blur. Rutting, drinking. Her blood. He groaned as he recalled. Even now, his gums throbbed. His mouth felt dry. The need to drink rushed through him. So decadent. So… He groaned again. “I could have killed you.”
Her hands were on him. Touching, caressing. Soft. “But you didn’t.”
“I almost killed you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t even close.” Natasha sat next to him.
He glanced her way. Not able to look her in the eyes. She was wearing pajamas. “Where’s your gun?” As he spoke, he saw it on the coffee table. “You should be wearing it. You’re not safe.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.” He reached out, grabbing it and handing it to her. “You really aren’t.”
Natasha took the weapon, putting it on her lap. “So, we need to be more careful. It will be okay.”
“More careful?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can never hurt you again. That means I can never see you again.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She shook her head, her eyes were wide.
“I love you.” He cupped her cheek and looked into her beautiful hazel eyes. “I love you so damned much.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you enough to walk away.” It hurt to say the words but he meant them.
“So you’re back on the whole self-loathing, woe is me trip? Stop that! Have more faith in me.”
“I do have faith in you, but you are no match for a vampire male in his prime.”
“Hear me roar,” she beat her chest, speaking in a deep voice. It was something she had done soon after meeting him. Then she narrowed her eyes. “I killed you, asshole!” she half-yelled. This female, she sure was something. “I killed you once and I sure as hell can do it again. That’s what love is all about.”
He tried not to smile. His lips did that twitch thing. “Killing each other. How do you figure that’s love?” He frowned.
“Not killing one another but standing by each other. Through thick and thin. In sickness and health … even in death.” She smiled. “It’s accepting someone for who they are. Even the bad parts. It’s helping them overcome their shit.”
“Bloodlust is not something to be taken lightly.”
“Neither is my Glock. I put a damn bullet through your heart so I figure that sucker is mine now.”
“It was yours before.”
“Humor me here. It’s more mine than it was before. I own that sucker.”
Titan chuckled. It hurt like a mother, so it ended in a grunt.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m worried. About you that is.” Understatement of the whole entire century. “I don’t want to hurt you again. What if …?”
“Stop it! We’ll figure it out. We as in us, together.”
His phone rang. Brant’s name flashed on the screen. Titan frowned. Why was his king calling him? It was still early.
“Oh.” Natasha chewed on her lip. “Um …” Her cheeks turned distinctly red.
“What?” Oh fuck! This had better not be what he thought it was.
She lifted her shoulders and held them there. “I might have phoned Brant last night after I shot you.”
“Fuck! You didn’t.”
“I did.” She dropped her shoulder back down. “I panicked. There was so much blood and you were dead … I panicked.”
“It’s okay.” He picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re up.” Why did Brant sound so chipper? “I should have your balls but I figure being shot by your female is punishment enough,” Brant laughed. The fucker laughed!
Titan waited it out. Finally, he slowed on the laughing and sniffed. “Oh wow! That’s funny.” He sniffed again. Was he crying with laughter? No damned way.
“My king, was there something you needed from me or are you checking in to see if I’m okay?”
“The former,” clipped. Titan should have known. “What are your feelings for this female?”
“Her name is Natasha and we’re in love.”
“Congratulations.” He didn’t sound like he meant it. What the hell was going on? “Are you planning on mating her?”
“I would love to but I have this problem … every time I drink from her I stand a really good chance of killing her.” Titan knew that his insolence could land him in the dungeon, or worse, but he didn’t give a fuck right now. “What’s with all the questions? Because, with respect, my lord, I love Natasha and will fight to be with her. She wants to be with me despite my bloodlust. We will find a way to work through this.” He still wasn’t completely convinced that it was the right thing to do. It certainly was the selfish thing but Natasha was right. She did own his heart. His female owned all of him.
Natasha clutched her chest. She mouthed ‘I love you.’
Titan prepared himself for an argument as Brant pulled in a breath. “I’m glad to hear it,” Brant sounded pleased.
“Um … excuse me? Why would you be happy about this? Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Oh, I heard you. As you know, Sammy has bloodlust. My case was mild but I think his is more severe. We need to work on a cure. We need to try to see if it can be managed. Mine has improved over time. I’m just not sure if someone with a really bad case can be helped.”
Worry caused his chest to tighten. If anything happened to Natasha …
“You need to bring your female he
re. You will be closely monitored. Nothing will happen to her. I will personally make sure that she is protected.”
“With all due respect, you might be used to a three-way, but …”
“I don’t expect you to have a three-fucking-way.”
“I won’t rut my female with another person in the room.”
“Relax. We’ll work on a system that will be agreeable to the two of you. Anyway,” he sounded like he was smiling, “it seems like that female of yours can take care of herself.” Yup, he was definitely smiling.
“So, you essentially want us to be guinea pigs?”
“Yes. You help with this ‒ not just for Sammy but for the others with the affliction ‒ and in return, you can have your female.”
“What if I can’t be cured?”
“Not fucking happening.” There was emotion in the king’s voice and Titan realized Brant was thinking about the implications for his son. This was about more than just them.
“I’m not sure if my female would be willing to come and live at the castle.” He glanced Natasha’s way and she held up two thumbs. She was willing to give up on everything for him. It was too much. He didn’t deserve her. “She has a career that she loves.”
Natasha shook her head and gave the thumbs down. Titan had to smile at her. She smiled back. In fact, it was safe to say she was beaming.
“Your female is damned good at what she does. She would be an asset to our people. Not just in fighting these hate groups but on how we can up our security systems. Up our game in general. I’ve been thinking about handgun training. We need to arm ourselves against these fuckers. I think things have progressed beyond swords and knives. We need to fight fire with fire. I want to set up a firing range. I would like to consult with your female on all of it. As well as on what weapons to purchase. We would need to set up a training program. She could spearhead the project. Hell, I can think of a whole list of projects that she could run with. When can she start? Yesterday would work for me.”
Titan looked at Natasha. “My king wants to offer you a job?”
“You mean other than being your personal sex slave?”
Brant chuckled.
“Yes, smart-ass. Do you want to come and live with me at the castle?”
She flew into his arms and locked lips with him. It hurt but he didn’t care.
“Titan!” Brant shouted. “Titan! Stop fucking around, I’m not done.”
“Hold on.” He pulled away. “Ow … wait …” he laughed, having to drag Natasha off him.
“Titan!” A roar.
Oh shit! He put the phone against his ear. “Yes, my lord. Sorry, my lord.”
Brant sighed. “Give Drago a call.”
“Now?”
“Yes, right fucking now,” Brant growled. “He went over the surveillance tapes from the last forty-eight hours and found something interesting.”
“I’ll call him.”
“Good, and …”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Stop with the ‘my lord’ bullshit.” Brant paused. “No rutting until you get back on vampire soil.”
“Okay, my … okay.”
Brant put the phone down.
“What did he say?” Natasha raised her brows, looking at him expectantly.
“Drago found something on the surveillance tapes.” He tried not to get excited.
She frowned. “I thought no one else was checking them.”
“I guess Brant must have assigned Drago.”
“Probably as punishment for not telling on us.” She must have seen his quizzical look because she quickly added. “Brant specifically asked Drago about us and he lied through his teeth, said nothing was happening when he knew there was.”
“Fuck!”
“Yup.”
Titan dialed Drago. “Let’s see what he found.”
Later that day …
Emmett Hoole sat huddled at the desk in the middle of the empty room. He hugged himself and his lower lip quivered.
“I’ll go and have a talk with him.” Big Bill looked worried, he put a hand on the one-way glass for a second, his eyes still on the janitor. “There has to be a reasonable explanation.”
“You saw the tape,” Titan said. “It’s very clear.”
Bill shook his head, Natasha could see him mulling it over. “No. It can’t be. Nah!” He pulled a face. “It cannot be. I refuse …” He caught himself and rubbed a hand on his pants. “Okay, you go and do the interview, Special Agent. It seems I’m too close to this one.”
Thankfully the sheriff finally saw reason. She was hoping not to have to play the jurisdiction card. “You have to know though, Tessa had nothing to do with this. If it turns out that Emmet is guilty, I will break the news to her myself. My fiancé is extremely sensitive. She won’t take this news lightly.”
Sensitive? Natasha tried not to react. By now Big Bill knew that his office had been bugged. He had to know that they knew about his telephone conversations. The ones in which a very ‘sensitive’ Tessa Hoole had talked about whipping her fiancé until his ass glowed. The ones in which she talked about wearing leather from head to toe, wearing nine-inch heels and putting a human bridle on the good sheriff and riding him like a pony. There was no doubt in Natasha’s mind that they actually did all of those things. The chains, the whips and the bridles ‒ they all happened. Natasha wasn’t a prude. She had nothing against any of those things. Tessa was the instigator though, the dominatrix in the festivities. Natasha was under no illusions that Tessa Hoole was sensitive. It just wasn’t possible.
“I’ll go in myself.” She looked pointedly at Titan.
He nodded, seeming to understand her line of thinking. Namely, if Emmet was a part of a fascist movement, he would be more likely to talk with just her in the room.
Natasha went in, closing the door behind her. She took a seat across from him. The only sign Emmet gave that he had even registered her presence was to rock faster.
She put the file on the table in front of her and removed a couple of glossy eight-by-tens. Natasha put the pictures in front of him.
Emmet made a squeaking noise and looked away. “I want to go home. I want my mom.” He spoke just like an eight or a nine-year-old would in a situation like this.
“Emmet, I want you to look at the pictures please.”
He shook his head furiously. “No.” Sounding more like a six-year-old. “I want my mommy.”
“Fine. Don’t look.” Natasha leaned back and folded her arms. “I’ll quickly tell you what’s on them.”
Emmet stuck his fingers in his ears and made noises.
This was getting tired quickly. “Emmet,” she raised her voice. “Stop that.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and made louder noises. She continued regardless. “You graduated from college. You got straight As. You do not have intellectual challenges. You can stop now.”
Emmet ignored her, continuing to make loud noises.
“According to these pictures you were seen removing the sheriff’s office telephone at thirteen minutes past twelve on the night of April the third. That’s two nights ago. You used a sleight of hand, pretending to be wiping the desk. At twelve fifty-three am, you put the phone back. What gave you away was that you wiped the desk, again. Twice in one night?” She cocked her head, looking at him emphatically.
“We have the listening device you planted. It’s a different device to the one you originally planted even though it’s the same make and model. We marked the previous one.”
Emmet continued to make the noises.
Natasha picked up the file and flipped through her notes. “You’ve never been admitted to the hospital. Your file at the sheriff’s office clearly lists you as having an intellectual disability yet you’ve never received any treatment for this condition. There is photographic evidence of you driving your mother’s vehicle on the twenty-first of July, just three weeks ago. You ran a red light. It clearly shows you smoking. Someone with an intellectual disability, as
list on your file, would struggle to cope with handling a vehicle. It even states that you are not permitted to drive and that you are not licensed to do so.” She paused. “The evidence showing how you tapped the phone of a high level public official is overwhelming. You will be convicted. That’s two to five years for sure,” she lied. It was more like four to six months at a push.
Emmet stopped making the noises. He kept his fingers in his ears and his eyes scrunched closed.
“That’s two to five if you’re only convicted of tapping the phone. There was an incident of vandalism at the Sweetwater hotel and a second incident where armed men entered the hotel room of an FBI agent. The same person involved in the vandalizing incident also waited in what looked like a getaway car. We have a witness who can identify this person in a line up.” Another lie. “I’m pretty sure I know who they’ll be pointing at. That’s another …” she pretended to think about it, “twelve to fifteen … easy.”
He removed his hands and opened his eyes. Emmet Hoole looked her straight on. “I’m ready to talk.”
27
Natasha held her Glock in both hands, the weapon was locked and loaded. She signaled for the deputy to hold his position at the flank. Then she signaled the rest of the team, informing them that she was about to enter and to therefore cover her.
The person at the rear of the house would be ready and waiting. It might seem like overkill but she wasn’t taking any chances. Both the sheriff and Titan were sitting this one out, much to both of their annoyance. Particularly Titan. She glanced over at where he was waiting in the parked SUV. Big Bear was back at the office. Probably still pale and pacing from one side of the room to the other. She felt for him. This really could not be easy on the guy.
Emmet worked for one person. He wasn’t the mole but the mole’s assistant. What mother would place their son in the line of fire like that? In the end, he’d confessed to both spray-painting her hotel door and driving the getaway vehicle during her botched kidnapping.
She suppressed a shiver. The three men had been out for blood, namely hers. They planned on making an example of what would happen to vampire lovers like her. All orchestrated by one very ‘sensitive’ Honey Bunny. Tessa Hoole was a pharmacist by profession. Not that she practiced anymore. She’d served eight years in the military. She was a well-read, highly intelligent individual; she was also a bigot who loved to hate.
A Mate for Titan (The Program Book 7) Page 24
