by J. L. McCoy
I wrapped my arms around my waist as my eyes slid unwillingly to Jameson’s formerly pristine black BMW z4 sDrive35i roadster. His once beautiful car had suffered the exact same fate as mine. His windows were all broken, his tires slashed, and the body was horribly pocked with dents and numerous deep scratches.
I took a helpless deep breath and shook my head, confused as to why someone would want to do this to us.
I turned to my car and slowly walked up to the driver’s side door. It was slightly ajar, hanging at a weird angle, and moved to close it. I suddenly stopped, my hand hovering a mere inch from the window frame, and my brain immediately went into overload. I started to shake violently as I stared uncomprehendingly down at my front seat.
“Cupcake?” Nikki called to me suddenly, uncertainty in her voice, and I tore my gaze away from the front seat to look at her with wide, terrified eyes. She quickly rushed over to me, grabbed my hand and dragged me inside.
My feet felt like they were encased in cement and weren’t cooperating very well. Nikki dragged me to the couch, sat me down and yelled out to Jameson. “Jameson, get down here! Something is wrong with her. I think she’s going into shock or something.”
Jameson ran down the stairs, cell phone to his ear, and kneeled down to look me in the eyes. “Oh, love,” he groaned regretfully as he absorbed the shocked state I was in. He wrapped one arm around my neck and pulled me to his chest. “I told you to stay away from the cars,” he said gently. He leaned his head back momentarily and spoke hurriedly into the cell phone again before closing it and setting it down on the floor.
Jameson turned to Nikki as he hugged me tightly. “Can you take Styvi Nix into the backyard and keep her occupied for a little while?”
“But,” Nikki started to argue. She sounded like she didn’t want to leave my side.
“Nikki, please,” Jameson said pleading with her. “I have some people who are coming to help and I’m afraid Styvi’s not going to deal well with them being in her house.”
Nikki reluctantly agreed and scooped up a still barking Styvi Nix into her arms and carried her out the back door and into the backyard.
I shook my head as I fought what my mind was trying to show me. No, I thought silently. No. My mind flashed to what I had just seen in the front seat of my car and what I had seen on the PVIP table at The Mausoleum two nights ago and I unknowingly opened my mouth to release a bloodcurdling scream.
Jameson quickly, but gently covered my mouth with his hand, effectively stifling the sound before it could be heard, and leaned forward to touch his forehead to mine. “Shh, baby, shh,” he gently shushed me as he slowly took his hand away from my mouth. I stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth open, and struggled to speak. Nothing would come out and I started hyperventilating with the panic I felt finally settle in.
“Jesus,” Jameson swore helplessly as he picked me up, flashed to the kitchen, and set me down on the kitchen counter. He quickly rummaged through my cabinets and found a bottle of Johnny Walker Black as he grabbed a glass and brought it over, pouring two healthy shots into it and held it to my lips. “Drink, love…you have to drink this. It’ll help, I promise.”
I managed to hold my breath long enough to chug the glass. The liquid burned hot down the entire length of my esophagus and settled heavily in my stomach. Jameson poured another generous shot and made me drink that one too. He managed to coax three glasses in me before I couldn’t take another sip. We sat there for a few minutes as Jameson rubbed circles on my back and I worked at slowing my breathing.
“I’m so sorry,” Jameson finally said softly.
I turned to him and he wiped the silent tears from my cheeks. “Why is this happening?”
We heard the roar of a sports car come blasting down my street and screech to a stop in the cul-de-sac outside my house. “Archer and Quinn are here,” Jameson said as he quickly kissed my forehead. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, okay?”
“Please don’t leave me,” I begged him as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please, Jameson.”
He growled with frustrated indecision and ran his fingers through his hair before picking me up off the counter and flashing outside with me. Jameson quickly set me down on the entry sidewalk and pulled my face to his chest as he wrapped his arms protectively around me. “Don’t look, okay love?”
I gladly buried my face so I didn’t have to look at my car or what was sitting inside of it again.
“Jameson,” I heard Archer roughly growl in greeting. His voice was frightening. There were so many emotions laced in that one word. Mostly, he sounded wrathful.
“Athair,” Jameson respectfully rumbled back. “Quinn.”
“Where’s the girl?” Archer growled lowly.
“She’s in the back yard,” Jameson answered. My head snapped up at the mention of Nikki and I looked up at Archer and involuntarily flinched.
Archer was already staring at me. Hard. His brow was furrowed, his eyes were mostly drained of their beautiful ice blue color, and his nostrils flared angrily. Archer deliberately slid his cloudy eyes irately over my body, head to toe and back. I blushed in disconcerted embarrassment and was surprised to find that it was tinged with a smidge of shame. I realized that I was standing outside in nothing more than my tiny, filmy black robe. My nude body was only a mere slip of the sash or a gust of wind away from his penetrating, furious eyes. I quickly looked up at Jameson and saw that he was closely watching Archer, his eyes equally as worried as mine. I looked down and saw that his only article of clothing was still just a meager pair of blue boxer shorts. It was clear why Archer was angry with me. Jameson and I were obviously a couple now. I didn’t care what Archer thought, though. He was married and I had moved on. I don’t have time for cheaters or liars.
I gathered up my courage and asked about Nikki. “What do you want with her?” I asked cautiously.
“Quinn is here to alter her memory,” Jameson explained gently, “…and those of your nearest neighbors. It’s just a precaution, love.”
I looked over at Quinn uncertainly. “You won’t hurt them?”
He somberly, silently shook his head and turned and walked to the gate on the side of the house before disappearing behind it.
I looked back at Archer and immediately recognized the anger and hurt that burned so intently in his eyes. It was the same look that I had had in my very own just two days before when I saw him and Aoife kissing up in his office. He had no right to look at me that way, not now; not after lying to me about Aoife. Don’t, I silently told him as I felt tears sting my eyes again. The alcohol that I consumed was helping to dull my feelings, but it wasn’t helping as much as I needed it to. I didn’t want to cry over Archer Rhys ever again.
A white van pulled up horizontally to the end of my driveway, drawing my attention away from Archer. Two tall, muscular men in black t-shirts and slacks got out and silently walked up to my car. I recognized one of the men immediately. It was the emerald-eyed man that I saw sitting at the PVIP table with Archer last night. He was carrying a black duffle bag and called out to Archer.
Archer poignantly looked back and forth between Jameson and me a few more times before he wordlessly turned around and joined the two men.
“He’s really mad at us,” I said under my breath after a minute.
Jameson reached for my hand and held it tight. “Aye. We knew he would be, though,” he whispered as he reached with his free hand to cup my cheek. “Do you regret your decision, Skye?”
I turned my head into his touch and kissed his palm tenderly. I looked deeply into his light green eyes and put everything I felt for Jameson behind mine. I wanted him to see and feel just how much last night meant to me; how much HE meant to me. “Never,” I said softly against his hand.
A rough, metal screaking sounded and Jameson and I turned to my car. Archer had yanked my driver’s side door open and ‘Emerald Eyes’ was bent over, reaching into my car. My blood immediately ran cold and I started to tremble again. I wanted
to hide, to seek solace in Jameson’s strong arms, but I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away.
He stood up and in each hand was a fistful of hair that was attached to a severed head. My stomach churned but I couldn’t look away. In E.E.’s right hand was the head of a man who looked to be about twenty-five years old. He had short black hair and an awful death grimace. My face suddenly started to tingle and an icy chill swept down my entire body. I got incredibly light headed as I clutched my stomach and fought hard to keep the scotch down.
I looked over at the severed head in the man’s left hand and that was the one that upset me the most. I started trembling harder and took a step backwards as the light-headed feeling intensified and black spots danced in my vision. The head in his left hand belonged to my ex-boyfriend Jesse Prescott. His long, dirty blond hair was horribly matted with dried blood and his eyes and mouth were open. Jesse! The tingling in my face increased to pin pricks and I had the sudden, overwhelming sensation of falling as everything went dark.
Chapter 6
I became vaguely aware of low voices speaking heatedly in the distance and I fought my way out of the comfortable cocoon of darkness.
“You have NO right to be angry with me, Athair,” Jameson growled under his breath. “YOU brought Aoife here, not me. What did you expect to happen? You think she can’t see? You think she doesn’t see the way your wife looks at her? The way your wife treats her?”
“You know why I had to bring her here,” Archer hissed back. “I had no choice!”
“And I didn’t either! I CARE about her, dheartháir! You think it was easy for me to sit there and see her cry over you, over HER?”
“She cried?” Archer asked with surprising, pain in his voice.
“Aye, she cried.” Jameson replied incredulously. “She’s been upset since Tuesday. She has tried hiding it from me, from all of us, but I can see it in her eyes, Trey sees it in her heart…and it kills me!”
“How does she even know?” Archer growled, raising his voice. “Who told her?”
Jameson scoffed. “Your WIFE told her. I found her sitting at the bar with Aoife yesterday, a terrified look in her eyes, practically being held hostage. You know how Aoife gets when it comes to you, Archer. You think she didn’t threaten Skye?”
“She promised me…”
“You are her husband, dheartháir!” Jameson hissed, cutting him off. “She doesn’t see it any other way.”
I’d heard enough and couldn’t bear to hear anymore. I didn’t want to hear about how Archer lied to me or about how he was married. I struggled against the weight of my eyelids for a moment before they finally opened. “Jameson,” I whispered softly.
“A luaidh,” Jameson whispered in relief as he hurried over to me. “How are you feeling? You’ve been out for a while now,” he said as he grasped my right hand and placed a cool, gentle kiss on the inside of my wrist.
“What happened?” I asked groggily.
“You passed out on the front lawn,” Archer answered carefully.
I did? I thought back hard to this morning and memories slowly began to reform. Jameson making love to me. French toast. Nikki. My car is totaled. No… “Jesse!” I whispered with wide eyes, my voice breaking.
“It’s okay, Skye,” Jameson said as he brushed the hair from my forehead.
“What happened?” I demanded quickly as I sat up. “Why is he dead? Why were there two…people in my front seat? Why would someone do this? Why him? Why me? Why?!” There was an edge of hysteria to my voice and Jameson made me take deep, even breaths in through my nose and out my mouth for the next minute.
As I started to calm down, I noticed that we were in my room. My bedclothes were still strewn about from this morning’s wild lovemaking session with Jameson and last night’s clothes were everywhere. I glanced over to my lamp and noticed that my ripped bustier was still lying haphazardly on top of its shade and the wreckage formerly known as my tights and thong were not far away.
I immediately turned to Archer and saw by the look on his face that he had been in here long enough to see it, too. His eyes were stormy and he was clearly not happy. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him defiantly. Oh, whatever Archer! Get over it! I silently yelled at him. “What happened?”
Jameson looked at Archer and allowed him to answer me. “From what we can tell, based on the scent, Jesse came here at some point early this morning and vandalized your vehicles.”
I shook my head, confused. “But, we didn’t hear anything. Wouldn’t it have woken us up? Woken SOMEONE up?”
Archer narrowed his eyes at me infinitesimally and continued, ignoring me. “When he was finished, I believe it was the monster we seek that killed him.”
I felt helpless and so confused. “But, I don’t understand, Archer. I thought you said this…thing…wasn’t killing humans. How do you know it was him?”
Jameson put his hand on my knee and answered for him. “The other man in your car was my friend Callum. It has to be the monster we seek.”
I rubbed my forehead for a few seconds, trying to absorb what they just told me. I felt tears begin to sting my eyes and I didn’t fight them this time. “Where’s the rest of Jesse? We have to tell someone. He has to have a proper burial. Oh, God…his poor mother!”
“We can’t tell the human authorities, Skye, or his family.” Jameson explained delicately.
“Why not?” I demanded, my brow furrowed with confused anger.
“Because this is bigger than him, bigger than his family, and bigger than your wants, THAT’S WHY!” Archer growled, his face contorted with furious anger.
I bolted out of bed, fists clenched tightly down at my sides. If it was a fight he was looking for, I was SO ready to give it to him. I stared cold daggers at Archer as he glared equally as angrily at me. There was a lot that Archer and I needed to hash out, and it looked like we were about to get down to the brass tax.
Jameson suddenly flashed to stand between us, his hands at each of our chests to stop us from taking another dangerous step toward one another. “We can’t have the human authorities sniffing around vampire affairs, Skye,” he explained to me, never taking his eyes off of Archer. “An Dílis are our best hope of catching this bastard. We need to help them in any way we can; not call attention to them and put them at risk.”
I sighed. Jameson was right, as always. I wanted this monster caught just as bad as they did now. He had killed my ex-boyfriend. I may not have cared for Jesse’s recent antics involving me, but he had still been a part of my life. He was still a part of my heart. I slowly relaxed my body and unclenched my fists. As much as I wanted to scream at Archer and have it out with him right now, I knew that this was not the time. Later, my eyes glared angrily at Archer. Absolutely, his eyes glared back.
Jameson slowly lowered his arms and walked over to my closet. He brought my rolling suitcase out and set it on my bed.
“What’s that for?” I asked confused as I watched Jameson unzip it.
“Pack,” Archer said, his jaw still clenched tightly.
“Why? Where am I going?” I demanded, looking back and forth between Archer and Jameson.
“You’re staying at my house until this thing is caught,” Archer said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The hell I am!” I said, defiantly crossing my arms over my chest, too. Aoife was at Archer’s house. I’m not that much of an idiot and, if I had to choose, I’d rather take my chances with this monster than go head to head with Aoife. I’d seen her pissed off at me and I never wanted to see it again. I had no doubt that she could and would tear me limb from limb in two seconds flat. Archer was hers and Archer’s house was their territory. I wasn’t stepping a foot in there if I didn’t absolutely have to.
“You have no choice,” Archer said, walking to my closet. He gathered most of my hangers together and took them off the rack in one fail swoop. He threw them into the suitcase as I looked over at Jameson, desperation in my eyes.
“The t
hing that is doing this might come after you next, Skye,” Jameson said calmly, walking over and putting his arm around me. “None of us are willing to lose you.”
I looked up into his eyes and pleaded silently.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “But we will at least be together, Skye. It’ll be okay.”
“Get the rest of your things,” Archer growled as he stalked toward my bedroom door. “We leave in ten minutes.”
I watched Archer walk out of the room and I turned to Jameson.
He looked down at me and sighed. “I’m sorry Skye, but I agree with Archer. It is better that you stay with us. It’s safer there.”
I looked up at him, my face full of the betrayal I felt, before I shook my head and walked over to my dresser. I silently went through my drawers, picking out underclothes, t-shirts, and jeans and threw them into the suitcase as well. I heard Jameson sigh after a minute as he turned and walked out of my room. I didn’t care right now. I was angry at being forced to leave my house. I was angry that they refused to tell someone about Jesse’s death. His mother deserved to know that her son was dead; his family had the right to bury him…even if it was only part of him.
My breath caught at the memory of Jesse’s head in The Faithful’s hand. I swallowed the sob that threatened to escape but didn’t hold back my silent tears. I cried for him. I cried for his family. I cried for the future that he would never have…and I cried for myself, too. He had become irrational and unpredictable in the months since we had broken up, but that didn’t mean I didn’t mourn the person that he was, the person I had once thought I loved.
When I was finished packing, I got myself together and quickly dressed in my ripped Levi’s, a tight white spaghetti strap tank top, and flip-flops and threw my long red hair up in a high ponytail. I slowly walked down the stairs and joined Archer and Jameson in my living room.
