“Sorry to wake you up,” I told him. “I have a situation that needs dealt with.”
“Gwen?” he paused. “It’s 12:30. What could possibly be that important?”
“How about ten dead bodies in the cemetery?” I glanced over my shoulder, cringing when I saw a man’s arm torn off and lying a couple feet from his body. I was guessing that was Lauren’s handy work.
“The cemetery is full of dead bodies,” Micah said, his voice low and rough like he was fighting staying awake. I wondered if I should be concerned that Micah shared the same sense of humor as Lauren and Dorian.
“Fresh dead guys,” I said. “They’re rogues that we just killed.”
“Who just killed?” Lauren chimed in, leaning over my shoulder. I swatted her away.
“Listen, I’ll just call the department. I’m sure one of your lackeys can handle it.”
There was a groan and then the squeaking of the bed. “No, I’m on my way. But I’m calling Wyatt too. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be woken up, too.”
“Thank you, Micah.”
*
Fifteen minutes later, red and blue flashing lights lit up the night. Micah and Wyatt walked down the beaten trail, their eyes drooping and Styrofoam cups in their hands. When they stopped in front of the three of us, their eyes instantly landed on Dorian. I knew what they were thinking: their squinting eyes, drawn together brows and tight lips all screamed of their suspicion of the tall, leather-coat-wearing man standing to my right. Little did they know he wasn’t just some rough neck.
“Gwen,” Wyatt said in greeting, nodding his head in my direction but his eyes still on Dorian. It was nice to see that I wasn’t the only one affected by Dorian’s presence.
“Sorry for waking you guys,” I said, and their eyes finally found my face. Micah and Wyatt were brothers and you could definitely tell. Though Wyatt’s hair was shorter than Micah’s, it was the same shade of cocoa brown. To the casual observer, their eyes would also appear brown but I couldn’t miss the gold swimming through them that marked them as werewolves. Both men were tall and muscular, five o’clock shadows lining their sharp jaw lines, though Micah’s was a little scragglier compared to his brother’s.
“Not a problem. I know when you call it must be serious.” Wyatt smiled. “I didn’t realize you were back from Moon until the other day.”
“The other day?” My eyes caught movement behind the brothers. The spirits lingered amongst the tombstones, their necks craning as they watched the FPD’s team invade their territory. I curled my lips inward to restrain my smile. I imagined what the police would do if they knew they had a phantom audience. I envisioned a lot of screaming and heavy footfalls as they ran for the gate.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said, bringing my attention back to the conversation. I looked up at him and he looked over his shoulder. “When you were attacked at your shop… You were already on your way to the hospital by then.”
“Oh, yeah, I got back about a week ago,” I told him and he looked back at me. I smiled and he cocked his head a little to the side in question. The last time I had seen Micah and Wyatt, I thought I was just a normal witch with an unusual talent for reading the dead. They hadn’t heard that I was actually a spirit walker.
“So what happened tonight?” Micah asked, his eyes falling on each of the dead bodies. He took a drink of his coffee while he walked over to the nearest dead rogue. We all followed and he knelt down to inspect the man who attacked me.
“They’re rogues,” Dorian answered.
“Why would rogues be after Gwen?” Wyatt asked, joining his brother beside the body. He pulled a pen from his pocket and used it to drag down the man’s shirt collar. Having not found anything, he then used the end to tilt the man’s face away.
“They’re working with the Veil,” Dorian said, crossing his arms.
I caught Lauren’s smile in my peripheral and turned to look at her. She was tracking one of the uniforms with her eyes. “I’m going to see if he needs any help.”
Before I could threaten her to keep her fangs to herself, she was gone and charming the police officer. Shaking my head, I turned back to the three men. Wyatt turned the dead man over and pulled down the back of his coat to reveal a dagger tattoo spanning his neck. I vaguely remembered the man at my shop having the same tattoo.
“Who the hell did you piss off enough to warrant a visit from the Veil?” Micah asked, his golden eyes hard.
“So you guys know about the Veil too?” I’d been living in my own little world in Flora and hadn’t questioned the things that lurked outside its boundaries. My ignorance was going to get me killed. First thing tomorrow, I was doing some serious research.
“It’s sort of our job to know about this stuff, Gwen,” Micah said without humor. “Who hired them?”
“I’m pretty sure it was Holly,” I told them. “She’s a member on the NAWC’s council.”
“What the hell happened in Moon?” Micah asked. It’d been the FPD’s case that started the downward spiral, though that was just the tip of the messed up iceberg.
“It’s a long story,” I told him. “In short, Holly and Ian were a couple. Ian thought that since I’m a spirit walker, I could accept the vampire virus and be turned into some sort of hybrid and used for his revenge on the VC.” By the time I finished talking Micah and Wyatt were staring at me with disbelief.
“Can you accept the vampire virus?” Wyatt asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.”
“And Ian?” Micah said.
“Dead.”
“You?”
I smiled. “Silver stake through the heart.”
“Damn,” Micah said. “Seems we missed a lot. I’m happy you’re home safe.” He looked down at the dead man in front of him. “Well, home at least.”
“Now that you’ve given Gwen her welcome home speech, can you clean this up and keep it quiet?” Dorian grimaced.
Micah and Wyatt stood with their shoulders wide and tense as they glared at the uncouth angel at my side. A smirk lifted one side of Dorian’s mouth up as he brushed off their intimidating stares. The werewolves weren’t to be trifled with. Most people avoided their hair-trigger tempers, but Dorian wasn’t most people.
“This is Dorian Hade,” I said to break the tension. “He’s staying with me to teach me about being a spirit walker. Ignore his rudeness; it’s the only side of him.”
“I resent that.” Dorian looked down at me. “I think we both know I have another side.” He winked and I rolled my eyes, looking back at Micah and Wyatt. Their eyes volleyed between me and Dorian, their assumptions written all over their faces. Why was it men always assumed a man and woman were sleeping together simply because they are friends?
“All right, well, we’ll take these guys back to the morgue,” Wyatt stopped, a thought occurring to him. “Are the demons gone from their bodies?”
“Only three of them,” Dorian responded. “I didn’t have time to extract the rest.”
“What are you, some kind of black magic witch?” Micah questioned, his right eye crinkling in speculation.
A sly smile spread across Dorian’s lips. “I’m much worse.”
Micah and Wyatt looked at each other, and then at me accusingly like I’d stepped over to the dark side and was consorting with the enemy.
“He’s Death,” I said. “And the only thing dangerous about him is his enormous ego.” That wasn’t true; Dorian was a force to be reckoned with, but I wasn’t going to feed his narcissism. And for the most part he was one of the good guys.
“As in the reaper of souls?” Wyatt asked.
“That’d be the one,” Dorian replied.
“Now that the introductions are out of the way, what are you guys going to do with the bodies?” I asked. It was quickly getting colder and the thin jacket I wore wasn’t up to the task of shielding me from it. Plus, I was exhausted from the fight and using my energy to control the spirits.
“Like I
said, we’ll take them to the morgue,” Wyatt replied. “We’ll have to find someone to exercise the demons from them.”
“I can do it,” Dorian offered. “It’d be best if we took care of it tonight so that the demons don’t extract themselves and go into one of your officers.”
Micah and Wyatt looked at each other, their heads nodding and their mouths agape. The poor guys were used to dealing with the run-of-the-mill criminals, not demons.
“Where’s Lauren?” Dorian asked.
I turned to see where she had gone but didn’t see her. “I don’t know, probably sinking her fangs into the cute officer she was flirting with.”
“Some bodyguard she’s turning out to be,” Dorian mumbled. “You’ll have to come with me to the morgue.”
“Like hell I will,” I bit out. “It’s late and I’m tired. I’m going home.”
“Not by yourself you’re not,” Dorian replied, his tone final.
“For crying out loud, I’m not helpless and you can’t order me around.”
“We’ll just give you two a moment,” Wyatt interrupted. He and Micah walked over to a couple of their officers and left me alone with Dorian. We glared at each other, both unwilling to bend.
“It’s nice you care about my safety, but I’ve survived twenty-six years without you. I think I’ll manage to stay alive for one more night.” I turned and walked away.
“Meet you at the morgue, boys,” Dorian called behind me as his footsteps headed in my direction. “I have to walk Gwen home.”
I frowned, hugging my arms to my chest and continued up the path. Dorian fell in step beside me and together we exited the cemetery. I felt something heavy fall around my shoulders, and when I looked up, Dorian was no longer wearing his leather jacket.
“You know, if word gets out that you’re a gentleman, it’ll hurt your rep.”
“Luckily there aren’t any witnesses around.” We walked in silence for a few long seconds before Dorian spoke again. “It happened again tonight.”
I had been staring into the trees lining the street. I looked up at him. “What happened again?”
Dorian shook his head slightly, his lips a tight wire as the muscles in his jaw flexed. He was absolutely gorgeous, even when pissed off. His skin, though lined with a five o’clock shadow, was warm porcelain.
“I couldn’t see the danger you were in tonight,” he said, bewildered.
I knew the lack of insight bothered him, and it bothered me too, but I believed everything happened for a reason. I just didn’t know what the reason might be.
“Maybe you’re not seeing it because the rogues weren’t going to kill me. You see death, right? What if the rogues were ordered to just kidnap me or something?” Dorian gave me an ‘are you serious?’ look, I shrugged. Truth was I didn’t have a clue why I was blocked from him. In my experience, it couldn’t be good.
“I cannot pinpoint when you’ll die, Gwen. Do you understand how baffling and dangerous that is?” Dorian’s hands curled into fists beside his thighs. “I have to find answers. Otherwise you may not live through the week. Especially when you don’t take precautions.” He gave me a chiding look.
“How do you plan to find answers?” We’d made it back to the apartment. We climbed up the staircase and I fished my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door. Dorian’s strong hands slid over my shoulders and he turned me around to face him.
“I have to leave, Gwen. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He moved his hand up my shoulder, to my neck and cupped the side of my face. Brushing the pad of his thumb along my jawline, he leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to my lips.
“Leaving is the last thing I want to do, but finding answers could save you and that’s more important than my need to stay by your side.” He spoke against my mouth, his breath caressing my lips.
The idea of Dorian not being around twisted my heart. I knew he’d come back, but that could be days or months. The Dorian leaving was different than the Dorian who arrived at the castle in Moon a month ago. This man still had hard edges but they were softening, and it pained me to see him go. I may be reluctant to enter into another relationship, but I’d come to think of Dorian as my friend— even if that friend occasionally kissed me.
“When?” I mumbled.
“As soon as I’m done helping the FPD.”
I nodded and looked down at my hands. Turning, I opened the door and stepped inside. Dorian followed, closing the door behind him. A small part of me was angry with the angel of Death for leaving me at such a vulnerable time, but I wouldn’t voice those emotions. Dorian needed to find answers for what he was experiencing and who was I to stand in his way? He’d given up his life to help me out and now I had to let him get back to it.
“Alright,” I said, crossing my arms and staring at him. “Good luck.”
He crossed the room, stopping just in front of me. We watched each other for a few lingering moments until his lips were on my mouth again. There was nothing soft about this kiss. It was urgent, hard and possessive. A delightful tremor ran through my body as his arm snaked around my waist and pulled me tighter to his body. If only all moments could be this delicious.
“Whoa,” Lauren said behind us. The door slamming shut was like the snap of a hypnotizer’s fingers, awakening me from a dream.
Dorian pressed one last kiss on my lips before he turned away and disappeared through the door. I caught Lauren’s smile but wasn’t in the mood to return it. Turning, I headed to my bedroom and prayed sleep would claim me fast.
I don’t know why I thought finding information on a secret, underground group of evil rogues would be easy. It wasn’t like there was an evilrogues.com. (Yes, I tried it.) I had woken up at 4 a.m. and spent the morning hunched over my laptop sifting through websites until my eyes burned and I couldn’t see straight anymore. There were a few conspiracy theorist blogs where they mentioned the idea of a group like the Veil, but they also thought there were subliminal messages on children’s televisions shows. After reading it, my brain hurt and my patience was thinning.
I must have drifted off because I woke up on the sofa, my laptop discarded on the floor and infomercials for slimming lotion squawking from the television. The good news was I hadn’t dreamt about assassins or sharp daggers. As I tried to sit up, the throw blanket got tangled around me like some sort of cotton boa constrictor. I fought my way out, yanking and lifting until I was free to stand. Talk about an early morning workout.
Rubbing my blurry eyes, I padded into the kitchen in desperate need of coffee. While I waited for it to brew, I headed down the hall to the restroom, pausing in front of Dorian’s bedroom door. It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t behind it. Turning the knob, I opened the door; half hoping he would be sleeping under Fiona’s frilly comforter. He wasn’t. Lauren was curled into a tight ball, her arms strangling her pillow. Her long blonde hair spilled over her face. She actually looked peaceful when she wasn’t strutting and wielding her body at the closest man.
Lauren would be dead to the world until tonight. Vampires could awaken during the sunlit hours, but they had the strength of a toddler. The two windows had thick blankets duct taped to the wall to keep out even the smallest sliver of light. My eyes adjusted quickly, the light from the hall leaking into the room. Fiona had had movers pack up a lot of her things when she decided to stay in Moon. I knew her father didn’t want her around me when I was the target in so many bad guys’ eyes, but I missed her. Seeing her half-empty room caused a pain in my chest. Deciding it was probably creepy to be watching over a sleeping vampire, I turned and closed the door.
*
After three cups of coffee, and more endless internet searches, I reached a dead end. I flipped through the notes I had scribbled down in my journal. There were more doodles than information. Sometime during zoning out, I had drawn a dagger. Its hilt was wide and at the base a gem was set in the metal, just like the tattoo I’d see on my attacker’s neck. As I thought about my assassin, anoth
er thought came to mind: What had Dorian done to him? The man stood behind me so I couldn’t see what had happened, but one minute he was holding my life in his hands and the next he was crumbled at my feet—dead. And he hadn’t touched the man at the cemetery either. He simply reached his hand out and black and white smoke rose from the rogue’s body. Bizarre.
“Damn you, Dorian,” I whispered to myself.
Two hard knocks echoed behind my front door. I froze, afraid to find out who was on the other side. I didn’t have a lot of visitors, and the ones I did have only came once the sun fell. Jumping out of the chair, I hurried to the knife block on my counter and grabbed the biggest blade it stored. Clutching the handle, my palm suddenly sweaty, I inched closer to the door.
“Who is it?” It was times like these that I wished I had a peephole. It didn’t matter, if I didn’t recognize the responder’s voice I wouldn’t open the door.
“It’s Micah,” a smooth baritone answered and I sagged in relief. I flipped the lock and opened the door. Micah, my ex, local detective and werewolf, stood with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. His shaggy brown hair was a tangled mess as if he had just hopped out of bed and headed over here. Dark circled lined his eyes and his skin was a shade paler now that I could see him in the light of day. He looked like he’d aged five years.
“Hey,” I said. “Come on in.”
Micah stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Do you want something to drink? I think I have some iced tea.”
Micah eyed the knife in my hand and then arched a brow at me.
I smiled sheepishly. “You can never be too careful.”
“No, I’m fine,” Micah said, waving off my hospitality. “The reason I came by was to tell you I think you should keep the store closed, at least until rogues stop coming after you.”
I leaned against the counter and studied Micah’s face. “You mean because the other business owners don’t want me to reopen.”
Micah rubbed his stubble-lined jaw as he stared at the floor. When he looked up his amber eyes were apologetic. “We’ve gotten complaints,” he admitted. “But that’s not the only reason. I do think it’s a good idea to lay low. I don’t know what happened while you were in Moon, but the residents of Flora aren’t happy you brought the trouble back with you.”
Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series Page 8
