He put his index finger under my chin, raising my eyes to his. “Even when you rejected me and I felt pain, deep and wrenching misery, I was still glad that I felt something. Experiencing pain is still better than feeling nothing at all.”
“You’ve loved before, Ian. I saw it.”
And I had. When I’d first met Ian and dared to read his soul I saw the love he shared with Emily, more than a century before I was born. “Yes.” He replied softly, not taking his eyes from mine. “I have loved before. But even Emily did not reach my soul the way you do. I will endeavor to spend the entirety of my existence proving my love for you.”
“You are my dark, delicious fairy tale, Ian. My prince charming on a black horse, and I am afraid.”
“Do not fear me, my love. To harm you in any way would be to rip out my own soul and scatter it to the mercy of hell. You are mine, and I am yours.”
Our lips met in an electrifying spark of need and desire and it felt as if in that one kiss, we exchanged a piece of each other’s soul. But my heart had betrayed me before and while the wounds had healed long ago, the scars still remained.
Chapter 13
We parked Ian’s RJ5 in a small patch of brush about a mile from Ambrose’s place. We chose that car because it was black as night, sleek and would hide easily in the desert. It would also provide shelter for Ian if the sun should rise before we finished our mission. The windows, like everything else on the car, were customized so that Ian could drive during the daylight hours. While he still died at sunrise, he didn’t sleep for long and the hours that he was out grew shorter and shorter. Whether this was a result of our connection, his age or strengthening in power, we didn’t know. Regardless, he would be able to stay within the safety of the car should we run out of night before we’d relieved Ambrose of his supply of wolfsbane.
And that was all we intended on doing. I called in a favor. I’d once raised the body of a murder suspect for questioning. Sam needed the location of his last victim. I didn’t like using my necromancy but doing so had earned me this little trip outside the realms of the restraining order that Ambrose had on me. Not that I wouldn’t have done it anyway, especially considering that his last victim was not yet dead and was at this moment at home, recovering with her family. But that didn’t stop me from taking Sam up on his offer to turn a blind eye to my pursuit of Ambrose tonight. I had to agree to let him accompany us but that would only lend to the credibility that was needed on the raid.
We broke off in teams, Joaquin and Tala heading toward the back of Ambrose’s house while Ian and I took the front. Sam would remain behind until we confirmed that Ambrose did in fact have a large quantity of wolfsbane in his possession. The substance was just as toxic to humans as Supernaturals and while it was not illegal in Arizona to possess wolfsbane, having a mass amount of it was still cause for reasonable suspicion and therefore justified an investigation. We suspected that the wolfsbane was being grown among the corn and citrus trees surrounding Ambrose’s house. After Joaquin and Tala “stumbled” upon the stash, SINS would be called in to investigate. That’s where a little fudging on the paperwork would go a long way to explain the presence of Sam, Ian and ultimately, me.
It wasn’t guaranteed to stop the killing, but it should slow down Ambrose a little until we could come up with a better plan to end this permanently. Sam had it on good authority that the politicians were waging a behind-the-door battle to stabilize laws regarding shifters and vamps and if we had to keep eliminating Ambrose’s supply until the laws changed, then so be it. I’d take the win on small battles until the war could finally be won. Was I that patient? Hell no. But Ian was a very old vampire and maybe a little of his patience was rubbing off on me. Doubtful, but possible.
Ian’s hand on my upper arm stopped me. “Someone approaches, my love.” He whispered through my mind.
“Did you think that Ambrose would not protect his property, vampire?” A disembodied voice called from the darkness. It was thick with an accent and I pegged him for a mid-easterner. “You are not the only one with high-tech security devices.”
The slight bit of moonlight glinted off the barrel of a gun as it moved closer to us. I pulled my Glock and aimed it at the darkness behind the other gun.
“Ah, as we suspected. You’ve brought the lovely Miss Wolfe with you. Ambrose said you two would not be able to resist for long.” The man stepped further into the light. He was wide and tall with a close-cropped haircut that almost made him look bald in the shadows. He wore camouflage fatigues and combat boots. His strength was evident in the stance of his body. He was ex-military maybe, more than likely a militant or mercenary. Great. Guns for hire. The question was how Ambrose could finance such a high-priced security guard, let alone the surveillance equipment to go with it. That may have been an angle we needed to check out. If he was skimming cash from the reservation and we could prove it, that alone would put him behind bars for a good, long time.
“I do not believe it would be wise to shoot the Marquis. It would start a war that I guarantee Ambrose would lose.” Ian stated darkly.
“I am just a messenger.” The man said in his thick accent. “I will holster my weapon if she does the same.”
“You first, big guy.” I kept my stance firm.
He laughed. It was a harsh sound with no humor to it. “How very American.” His voice was bitter. “An old west standoff. That is what you call it, is it not?”
“I don’t do westerns. Drop your fucking gun or I will shoot you.”
Ian raised a hand. “Just deliver the message.” He commanded.
“And then you shall go peacefully into the night?” Sarcasm dripped from the big man’s words.
“That depends upon the message.” Ian replied calmly, belying the anger rolling off him.
“Ambrose advises against your kind becoming involved in a matter that does not involve vampires. You do not, after all, have a history of peace with the animals.”
“Peace was forged a long time ago between our races.” Ian replied.
Hell, I didn’t know there was a time when they were at war. Yet another thing I didn’t know about the world I was about to marry into.
“I will explain later, my love.” Ian spoke into my mind, answering a question I hadn’t yet asked.
“You’re damn right you will.” I replied silently.
“I will protect my dominion and all who reside within it.” Ian took a step closer.
“It is loaded with wolfsbane, Marquis. It can bring even you down.” Arrogance oozed in the big man’s words. “Turn around and go back to your estate. You are not welcome here.”
“This is property of the tribal nations. I do not need further invitation to tread here.” Ian responded coolly.
I heard the click of a trigger and responded in kind. Ian knocked me to the ground and then ran after the big guy and disappeared into the inky night. I pulled myself off the ground, letting out a long string of curses as I did and walked in the direction that our assailant had been. The silence was eerie, as if even the crickets were holding their breath in anticipation. I took another step then kicked it up to a full on sprint when I heard a loud crack followed by a groan. Immediately following that was the sickening sound of ripping flesh and slight suction of body parts being removed. I'd heard the sound many times before when I’d fought against a rogue vampire and the thought froze my heart and stilled my breath. “Ian!” I screamed, not caring if I gave up my position.
A hand gripped my right arm, effectively preventing me from firing a shot. I yanked furiously on my arm and landed on my ass with a surprised grunt, my gun stripped from my hand. “It is I, my love.” Ian knelt in front of me. “He is dead.”
It was too dark in the shadows I’d landed in to see Ian so I caressed my hands over him, stopping when I felt the stickiness of blood across the base of his throat. “You’re bleeding.”
“I will heal.” He pulled me up and into his arms. I kept moving my fingers over his face, neck an
d shoulders, then sliding them down his chest, searching for wounds that my eyes couldn’t see.
Ian pulled me back into the moonlight and I got the full effect of his injuries. A long, thin gash across his neck oozed blood, even as it healed.
“He tried to…” the remaining words stuck in my throat.
“It was a trap, my love. An unsuccessful one.”
A sound startled me until I realized it came from me. Ian had nearly been decapitated. The thought rose bile in my throat.
“He had a trip wire set up. He knew I’d go after him if he shot at you. It was a set-up.” Ian put my gun back in my shaking hand.
I finally found my voice and croaked, “Where is he?”
“I did not need a wire to remove his head.” Ian’s eyes darkened as he held up his hand. A bloodied rag, like a macabre bowling bag, hung in it. “Shall we deliver it to the one who sent the message?”
My body stiffened. Not in repulsion or even shock, but in anticipation. My mind cleared to a quiet hum as the part of my brain that let me kill suddenly came alive. There would be no hesitation if the need to defend any of us arose. There could be no hesitation. Ambrose had just upped the ante. He waited for us to come and prepared an ambush. I would still be bound by law not to simply kill him on sight, and that, I thought as we continued along, was a damn shame.
As we passed the headless body of the mercenary I fired a shot into his unclothed chest at close range.
“He is most decidedly dead, my love.”
“It still made me feel better.”
“I suppose it did.” Ian quipped. “Sam approaches.”
“I guess ‘shots fired’ constitutes reasonable suspicion.” Sam said as he jogged up behind us.
“We had a bit of an altercation.”
“Anyone hurt.” He asked, keeping step beside me so that I was flanked by both men.
“Nothing that won’t heal.” I hesitated. “On our side.” I added, and then nodded toward the makeshift bag that Ian carried.
“What’s in it?” Sam asked.
“Let’s just say our assailant got carried away and lost his head.” Ian deadpanned, not even slowing his stride.
“You mean…?” Sam began. “You can’t do that.”
“He is lucky he died quickly. I am not human. Vampires do not suffer fools and it would have been more beneficial had I set an example of him. It is within my rights.”
Sam looked at me and I shrugged. “Look it up in the bylaws.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Sam took a step away from Ian as Ambrose’s house came into view.
A crash echoed in the night as a light within the house flickered and died. Without a word we all began running, Ian and I leaving Sam behind us very quickly. I paused and looked behind me.
Sam had already pulled out his own gun. “Go.” He shouted.
I turned up the speed and ran, not catching up with Ian but at least keeping him within sight. My chest was raw and my arm burned when at last I reached the porch. While I had advanced speed from my bond with Ian, I rarely used it. I made a mental note to hit the track more often, as I placed my back against the house at the side of the doorway. I had my gun ready and pointed skyward. The battle raged on inside but I wasn’t dumb enough to walk in without making sure a gun wasn’t aimed at me first.
I took a quick look inside before ducking my head back behind the relative safety of the house, and then repeated the action, assuring myself that it was safe to enter.
Tala leaned against a table; her bloodied hands on her knees seemed to be the only thing keeping her standing. She was heaving in lungful’s of air as sweat dripped from her brow. I went to check on her but she nodded toward the fight and said, “The wolfsbane is still in my system but I’m fine. Help them.”
Another man in fatigues fought with Joaquin. He was wide and stocky with his white-blond hair cut so close to his scalp that it looked like an afterthought. He had the appearance of a comic book villain with a blade in each hand that he slashed out each time Joaquin advanced on him. His strength indicated that he was supernatural but he had neither fang nor claw. If he was recently bitten he may not have had his first shift yet, unusual but not unheard of. More likely, both men decided they could better fight in the confines of the house in human form.
Ian was engaged in a battle with a bear shifter so large that it couldn’t stand upright without hitting the ceiling. It swiped at Ian with massive claws, its roar baring teeth at least a foot long.
I didn’t have a clear shot on either the bear or fatigue-guy.
Ambrose cowered in a corner near a china cabinet, blocked in by the fight. The head of the man Ian had decapitated outside had rolled out of the shirt that Ian carried it in and settled at Ambrose’s feet. Its face was frozen in a horrible death as gooey brain matter cascaded out what once was his neck. Ambrose looked as if he may have pissed himself. It didn’t look like he was going anywhere soon so I took aim at the bear. Ian chose that moment to swing his legs, launching himself into a backward flip. He catapulted his body over and behind the bear shifter, shoving his hand into the beast’s massive jaw and using his momentum to pull it backward, knocking it to the ground. I heard the crunch of bone and saw the spray of blood as the bear clamped down on his hand. Ian let out a feral roar of pain and then yanked the bear’s upper jaw up, ripping it away from his face. The bear flailed its paws out, grasping behind itself in an effort to slice at Ian.
Ambrose’s screech was earsplitting as the bear hit the floor mere inches from his legs and it gurgled its last breath, sputtering blood.
The man fighting Joaquin suddenly decided that it wasn’t worth going up against all of us and dropped his blades. Joaquin punched him square in the jaw, knocking him unconscious.
“Holy fuck!” Sam’s breath came out in gasps as he entered the cabin.
I pulled extra-large silver handcuffs from my back pocket and walked toward the last man standing. “You are under fucking arrest for interfering in a federal investigation.” I spoke to his unmoving form.
Sam rallied and I heard him giving Ambrose pretty much the same speech, although a little more delicately, behind me. Neither of us was willing to lose this case on a technicality.
The cuffs sizzled as I secured them around fatigue man’s wrists then added a second pair to his ankles. I took a silver chain from my cargo pockets and locked both sets of cuffs together. If he decided to try and break the link he’d cut both the wrist and ankle cuffs into his body. It would not be a pleasant experience.
Sam stood over Ambrose, who was trembling, his hand holding his head in place against the wall. Joaquin had gone across the room, flipped on a light and was checking on Tala who looked weaker than she was letting on.
“She okay?” Ian asked.
“Yeah.” Joaquin replied, helping her stand while supporting most of her weight.
Sam turned Ambrose around to lead him to the doorway and something in the feel of the air changed. I opened my mouth to speak but Ambrose had already scratched his hand across Sam’s face, leaving a trail of blood welling in its wake. The handcuffs dangled from both hands, the chain connecting them severed.
“How in the hell…” Sam began before his words were cut off by a fist that sent him sprawling.
Ian stepped between the two men and twisted Ambrose's arm back. It gave a resounding crack as bone jutted through skin, his forearm hanging uselessly from his body.
Sam pulled out the silver cuffs and tossed them to Ian who quickly restrained Ambrose as he yowled in pain. He spun Ambrose around and pushed him to the floor. It was then that we saw the rip in his shirt. It was four jagged slashes across his mid-section.
“The bear caught me.” Ambrose squeaked, rage and pain warring in his voice.
Sam sucked in a gasp. I knew what he was thinking. Ambrose had been cut by the bear shifter and was strong enough to break the cuffs. Then he had bled Sam. If he’d had his own blood on his hands when he did then Sam could have been infect
ed too. Sam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He had worked damned long and hard to become the Director of SINS and while they wouldn’t can him for becoming an animal, not many people even survived the first shift. I’ve seen it go very, very badly before.
“Test yourself.” I ordered him.
“No.” Sam squared his shoulders. “Not until this is done.”
“It is done.” Joaquin put in as he lowered Tala to a more comfortable chair.
“No, it isn’t.” Tala looked up at him. “Is it, Leah?”
I took a slow breath and blew it out. “Sam?”
He nodded.
I turned to Ambrose, his face still arrogant and cruel. “I am federal agent Leah Wolfe and I hereby invoke the rights bestowed on me to execute you, Ambrose Twofeather, for conspiring to commit crimes against humans, including the damage caused to federal agent Sam Anderson.”
“You can’t kill me, I am human.” He spit out defiantly.
I tossed him a field test kit. “Prove it.”
Ambrose lost some of the arrogance now. “I don’t have to prove anything to you, bitch!”
“You’ve been bled by a shifter,” Ian spoke firmly. “You broke through handcuffs without a sound. I believe that is cause for concern.”
“I’m human.” Ambrose croaked with less conviction, and then removed the testing strip from the pouch with a shaky hand. He swiped a sterile wipe along his stomach wound then stuck the sharp edge of the strip inside. The indicator came out a glorious green.
“Wait!” He protested, and then sprinted for the door. As he swept past me I stuck out my arm and clothes-lined him. He rolled to his feet in a blur of speed. Ian, Joaquin and Sam moved to strategically block the exits. It said a lot that they trusted me to take Ambrose out on my own.
“You move pretty damn quick for a newbie, Ambrose.” I said as we danced around each other, waiting for the next move.
Justified (A Leah Wolfe SINS Novel) Page 10
