by Lisa Ladew
Riot looked at her in disbelief and confusion, his face breaking into a half-teasing smile. “Maybe it’s not my spot, then. Maybe any ol’ shifter can park there.”
But Gemma held his eyes, slowly shaking her head, still breathing hard. “I don’t think so. I think it’s because you’re everything that’s best about shifters.” Riot’s heart stuttered in his chest.
Gemma nodded, the look in her eyes saying she was convinced of her conclusion. “You’re strong, smart, sensitive, but also protective and brutal when you have to be.” She bared her teeth and snapped playfully at him. “And really fucking sexy.”
Riot shook his head. If all that good stuff was all Gemma saw, then she didn’t know the real him.
“That’s not the reputation most cats have. We’re supposed to be the bad boys, the rebels. My dad was the shame of his family when he became a cop.” Riot smiled sadly at the memory of the desolate look in Austin Cofield’s eyes when Riot’s aunts and uncles would tease his father about being a law-abiding citizen when cats were so skilled at moving in the shadows. But shady wasn’t how his dad had wanted to play it, and Riot had always respected him a hell of a lot more than any of the other fuck-ups in the family.
Somewhere around dawn Gemma introduced him to the dopest shower in the country, treating Riot to a full-body scrub that he happily repaid in kind. He took his sweet time with every inch of Gemma’s soft skin, getting his mouth in on the act, until she was so aroused that she pushed him onto the tile seat and straddled him in reverse, riding Riot into the sunrise with abandon.
They stumbled to bed on shaky legs and Gemma finally fell asleep. Her soft curls lay scattered over Riot’s chest as he held her in the crook of his shoulder, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on the soft, tan skin of her naked arm.
The whole night had been incredible. The best sex he’d ever had, without question. And between her body and her words, Riot had felt more generously loved by Gemma than he had by anyone, anywhere, ever. This thing with Gemma, this was way different than the sport-fucking he'd shared with that anonymous switch, the purple one.
This kind of connection was seductive. Dangerous, when he had people relying on him, people who had no one else.
But still, he could afford to enjoy this, couldn’t he?
A few more hours. That’s all you get.
Chapter 25 - Act Your Rage
Vlade VanAllen strode out of the elevator and into the foyer of his brother’s penthouse apartment in Alexandria, Virginia, not far outside the borders of the District of Columbia. His bootheels clicked on the Italian marble floor as he crossed to his brother’s apartment.
He looked around at the empty, quiet space. Something was wrong.
Usually there was a human woman waiting here, one of Zver’s slaves whose job it was to greet his guests and take their coats. But there was no one. Vlade sighed heavily. Another? His appetites are increasing. Vlade hung his coat himself and plotted his strategy. It did not do to meet Zver unprepared, especially when he was in one of his careless moods.
Vlade pushed the heavy door open and breezed inside, the sound of serene classical music greeting him as he gazed around. More than any other, this room illustrated the luxury and sophistication that befitted Fatherborne vampires such as themselves. Though steel coverings were bolted to the window frames for absolute assurance that no sunlight might come in and weaken them, the light from the crystal chandeliers more than made up for it. Sparkling beams shot around the room, landing warmly on the rich cream carpet and the gilding that edged much of the furniture in the room. The gold touches had a particular luster that never failed to please the eye.
And then there was his brother, so much more at home here than shrouded by the dank walls of their underground lair to the south. Zver lounged on an ivory brocade fainting couch with his eyes closed, his pale hands sweeping through the air as if conducting the symphony he heard. The very picture of pampered royalty, if it weren’t for the spray of scarlet staining the crisp white silk of his shirt.
At one time Vlade had been so sure that Zver’s lust for luxury and others’ suffering would prove to be the end of him, but things hadn’t worked out that way at all. Instead Zver had simply taken his darkest dealings into his most private spaces and kept them there. And lucky me, I get to visit.
“Quit standing over me like a vulture and talk, for Father’s sake.” Zver’s haughty voice rang out in Vlade’s direction, though his eyes stayed closed, as if his visitor wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Vlade didn’t miss the subtle insult, but he knew better than to react. Yes, brother, continue to think I would never be so bold as to betray you. It makes things so much easier for me.
Vlade tuned his voice to cold detachment. “Viktor didn’t come back from his dusk patrol. They found his clothes an hour ago, bone dust inside them. Must have been a switch. You want me to give the order to move the nest?”
Finally Zver opened his eyes, turning his full attention to the news at hand. Vlade nodded without comment as his brother’s lips tightened with displeasure. “Viktor, fallen to these clumsy new switches.“
Underneath his calm exterior, Vlade was simmering with rage. Did I not tell you of the switch I faced? The one who dared threaten my life as if I was not a Fatherborne, and far stronger than one so weak as she could kill?
His gut roiled with the memory of the tiny blonde and her power, so frustratingly far out of proportion to her experience. He had felt a touch bad about leaving his comrade behind to die, but there had been no other solution. Brotherborne were weak as cream cheese against a switch’s blade, and lacked the brains to evade them. Even one so old as Viktor, who had been amongst the first of his lesser kind.
Vlade kept on. “We lost another last week, one of your newest brood out for his first hunt.” Those bones he’d ordered left behind, an attempt to stir up trouble for the covens with their local law enforcement.
Zver sounded concerned for the first time. “Much longer and they might learn our plans. We cannot afford that.”
Vlade swallowed his apprehension and pushed out the rest of his report. “Someone found Jinelle.”
His brother went still as stone, the fury coursing through him almost palpable. “Who?”
Vlade didn’t flinch. “Don’t know. Vinzent left on recon after the call came in, as ordered. But he never returned.”
Zver sneered. “You sure he’s not biting his way up the highway, too blood-drunk to call in?”
Vlade had thought of that. “Not if he wants to live.”
Zver went deadly silent, his eyes focused so hard on the closest chandelier that Vlade could tell his brother was obsessively counting the shards. It was one of a vampire’s most exploitable weaknesses, their compulsion to organize, to record, to classify. One of many inborn traits that Zver tracked in an effort to perfect his breeding practices, never recognizing the irony.
Finally Zver spoke, through gritted, brittle teeth. “By the Father, your mistake will not disrupt my plans.” Zver started ticking off orders. “Tell Momeyer no more visitors, but he's to get names and photographs of all who try. And Arcadia, we must shield him well. See to it.”
Vlade squared his shoulders, pushed his skunk-striped hair back. Finally, some fucking action. “You want me to give the order on the mine, get them to clear out the larders? Zak says they have a healthy stock on deck.”
Zver’s lips pursed as he fingered his widow’s peak where the white stripe right down the middle of his head ended. Finally he turned cold eyes to Vlade. “Clear the larders, but our brothers keep their place. Set a trap, then kill them all.”
Disbelief threatened to choke Vlade’s throat. But what had he expected? He would follow Zver’s orders and set the trap, but he wouldn’t be vulnerable to its jaws. I have plans of my own I've yet to carry out.
He gave his brother a stiff nod and turned to leave the room, unable to resist tossing a bit of brittle advice over his shoulder. “You might want to go easy on your playthings. We
can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Zver snickered behind him. “Then you best not make any, brother.” Vlade’s gut burned at Zver’s cruelty, but he didn’t look back.
Chapter 26 - Read Him The Riot Act
Riot woke up in Gemma’s bed feeling tender. Not just in his body, which was whipped after a night of Gemma Jackson in Prowl mode, but also in his heart, which was doing its level best to convince him there was a way around his dilemma.
But he shook off both aches to gaze down at the sleepy-faced switch waking in his arms. Gemma’s hair was a sideways smush of curls and her full lips pouted adorably as she looked around the room in confusion. Then she seemed to realize another person was in the bed with her. Amber eyes focused on Riot’s face, and Gemma smiled the kind of smile that had Riot thinking of black-haired, round-faced babies, and all the fun it would be to make them.
Whoa there, motherfucker. You can’t even commit to today. But he could, he told himself, commit to trying not to fuck up this moment. Riot tightened his arms around Gemma with a silent sigh and kissed her soft lips. After a moment she tucked her head against Riot’s shoulder as her slightly-shy, sleep-roughened voice brushed across his chest. “Thanks for staying with me, and… you know.”
You lucky bastard, she thinks you did her a favor. Did I say dangerously seductive before? More like fatally perfect. “Nowhere I’d rather be.” Riot cleared his throat. No more of that shit! “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Gemma tipped her head to look at him again. “Breakfast?”
Riot froze. It wasn’t that he had plans, exactly, especially now that he wasn’t babysitting a batch of CBD oil. But it wasn’t a good idea to spend time with Gemma, getting more tangled than they already were. “I’m supposed to go out scouting with Ryder,” he said darkly, not meaning to.
Gemma smiled and shrugged. No big deal, the gestures said. It hurt, but what had he expected? Gemma may have been fantasizing about him a couple of nights ago, but they’d scratched that itch. Thoroughly.
“I should work on my article, and show J the pictures I took of the gold mine. You want to have dinner together later?” She looked down. “I mean… I just… you know, here at the house, even. Not, like, a date.” She swallowed, confusing Riot.
He swallowed, too. “Sure, dinner. Not a date. Sounds great.”
He could tell by the look in her eyes that Gemma didn’t understand what had changed. Don’t sweat it, cutie. I just got this stupid idea that I could have what I wanted for once. But instead of icing him out or blowing up, like he expected her to, Gemma looked momentarily unsure. “What’s the deal with you and Faith?”
Riot pulled back. What the fuck? She was bringing this up now? Jesus, she really is all about the fucking story. He stalled, not sure how far he could go before he spilled it all to her. “What do you mean?”
Gemma tilted her head, a puzzled, edging-on-hurt look in her eyes. Shit. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s nothing.” Riot caught sight of her disbelieving look and snatched Gemma’s free hand to lay flat on his chest, trying to show her with his eyes how serious he was. “Gemma…,” the truth rose up in his throat and he choked it back down.
She just looked at him, then, for long seconds. Waiting for him, her eyes peering into his. Finally Riot got so uncomfortable with the scrutiny and what she might find with her mile-a-minute mind that he had to blink. Gemma pounced. “What is it, then? Why do you go there?”
Well, it was nice while it lasted. Riot pulled the sheet back and got out of bed. He snagged his sweatpants and the t-shirt he’d loaned to Gemma from the floor and got dressed. The shirt smelled sweet-and-sharp, lime green, just like Gemma as he pulled it over his head. And the whole time she just watched him, waited patiently for his answer. Fuck.
A feeling in his gut, the part of Riot that knew he was never going to leave Gemma completely behind, told him that he had to tell her the truth. But the bigger part, the part he was used to listening to because it kept his ass out of the gnarliest cracks, said that he couldn’t afford to give her that power. Nor would he make her complicit to his crimes. So I guess here’s another one you take for the team.
Riot ground his teeth and growled in Gemma’s direction, unable to meet her eye. “Leave it.”
He expected the surprise he saw on her face, but he didn’t expect the raw hurt. He also thought she’d come at him guns blazing, and about that Riot was vaguely satisfied to see he was right. A fire flashed in Gemma’s eyes as she threw back the covers and stood, five feet of naked fury, the most magnificent sight Riot had ever seen in his life.
“‘Leave it’? Who do you think you’re talking to, some stranger on the street? Like I’m asking for a story and not because we’re… friends?” she finished after an awkward pause.
Riot still couldn’t meet her eyes as he slipped on his boots. She had him cold. Riot couldn’t risk it. He glanced regretfully in Gemma’s direction as he slid back the screen separating her bedroom from her office space.
It was almost enough to make him laugh, the way the universe gave with one hand and took with the other. Here, Riot, here’s a magic house to help make your obligations easier, but also here’s a woman you can never choose over those obligations no matter how much you want to.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, and closed the screen on Gemma's outrage. Just goes to show there’s nothing I can’t fuck up if I try hard enough.
Chapter 27 - Leap Of Faith
Gemma watched Riot go, her hurt and fury morphing into determination as his footsteps receded. He thinks I won’t find out what I need to know one way or another?
The thing was, even as she recognized the same bulldozer attitude that kept her pushing ahead on tough stories, busting her ass until she found her answers, she also knew that this was more than that. Because usually she didn’t care what the truth was, she just wanted to find it.
This time Gemma gave a shit. She had to know the truth or she wasn’t going to be able to take another step in any direction, not towards Riot or away from him. She wouldn’t ‘leave it’. She couldn’t. He was too important.
She got dressed and stomped down to the kitchen, reviewing her options in her head. Cora was there, and Goldie, kissing Flint as he turned to aim for the door to downstairs.
She mustered up a smile to show him everyone was fine and dandy, thanks for caring. “‘Morning.”
Flint’s shoulders dropped just a smidge, and he gave her a little nod. “‘Morning.”
Gemma watched him go, then crossed to the island, where a spread of granola and yogurt with a rainbow of toppings was waiting for its next taker. She was loading up a bowl when Cora’s voice cut through the silence. “What was that all about?”
Gemma shrugged. “I asked Flint about Riot yesterday.” She hoped that would be enough to cut the conversation short so she could think about her next move, but… No such luck.
Goldie’s eyebrows rose and her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of comprehension. “I bet that went well. Anything we can do to help?”
Determined to make some kind of headway today, Gemma nodded. “Can you take me to get my car?”
Goldie smushed up her face. “Nope. Mine is still out of commission.”
Cora piped up. “Let me see if Shiloh is free.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket as she gave Gemma a confiding glance. “It’s better if a shifter takes you. Just in case.”
Gemma glanced at Goldie and saw her smiling wryly back, and at that moment the bare facts landed in Gemma’s mind with a solid thunk. My life is never, ever going to be the same again. Being in public alone is no longer safe. For the public.
And after what she’d felt, the way she’d attacked Riot in her Prowl before he’d finally acquiesced to fucking her, she couldn’t even argue. Someone had to be around who could keep their head if a vampire showed up. Better to be safe than have the whole forest be sorry.
But then she remembered how good it had been, how they’d laughed a
nd kissed as they wrecked each other in bed, the times when Riot had just held her, playing with her hair and fingers as they talked. Her stomach settled and a warm glow replaced the rolling nausea. There’s something there, between us. And he knows it, too. All I have to do is prove it.
* * *
An hour later Gemma and Jameson were on their way to the motel in his truck. She felt bad about pulling him away from his day-job as a ranger, but Jameson had assured her it was no problem. He’d take her to the motel, then Shiloh would meet them there and follow Gemma back to Resperanza in her car while Jameson went back to work.
Gemma looked out the window as the deep greens of the forest rushed by, broken up by tree trunks and rock. Despite the late-summer heat, Nantahala was lush and thriving. As the truck paralleled a winding creek, Gemma revealed to Jameson that she’d visited the gold mine after his phone call the day before, and had Undone another vampire. Jameson’s eyes went wide for a beat, then thoughtful as he listened to everything Gemma had to say.
She wrapped up her report as he pulled into the motel’s lot and parked near the end of the building, where Riot’s bike had been the day before, adding, “We definitely need better, closer photos, but it can’t be a switch taking them.”
Jameson nodded soberly. “I’ll get Aven to do some fly-bys. He's former special-ops. We won’t go in until he figures out the best way to do it.”
Gemma let out a breath, glad that action would be taken by people who knew their shit. If they were lucky, she thought, they might find some kidnapping victims, but Gemma wasn’t holding her breath. Even with all her sleuthing, she had no idea what happened to the TSK’s victims after they disappeared. No bodies had ever been discovered.
