He shakes his head and runs a hand along his jaw. “Not particularly. Those people were released from the hospital yesterday, but it seems we’ve hit a dead end with them since they still won’t tell us what happened.” He casts a curious glance at Elijah.
“I’ll leave you two to it. Need to grab a shower anyway.” He disappears into my bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him, and I hate that there’s a brief moment while I ponder exactly what he might look like naked.
I can’t help it. He’s a damn sexy man. Something I can appreciate even if I know nothing about him. I reach for the counter and nearly fall, but Ramirez is there, catching me and leading me to a barstool.
“You look like hell,” Ramirez comments as he sits beside me.
“And I feel it too.” I reach across my counter and grab a bottle of ibuprofen, toss four pills into my mouth, and swallow.
“Want some water with those?”
“Didn’t want to use the effort.”
“You could have asked.” Ramirez gets up and heads to my fridge, pulling open the door. Then, he retrieves a bottle of water and hands it to me.
I open it and drink the cool liquid down greedily as though I’m dying of thirst. Shit, if it’s been two days, I might be.
“Don’t eat Sushi from the gas-n-go,” I tell him, and he chuckles.
“Shit, I could have told you that one. How much longer do you think you need?”
“Hopefully just a day or two. Think you can cover?”
“Yeah, no problem.” He glances curiously at my hair. “You may want to shower. Looks like you’ve got something in your hair.”
“Tell me about it,” I reply dryly.
“I mean, at least the guy’s still here. He could have run for the hills the second you started puking.”
I force a smile. “That’s true. Do we have anything new on the club case?”
“Nope. And the SUV that shot us up at Smith’s? No damned clue where that came from either. My guess is we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Darrell Smith must have been into some bad shit.”
“Certainly seems that way,” I agree.
Ramirez gets to his feet and walks toward my door. “Now that I know you’re alive, I’ll leave you alone. Check in tomorrow.”
“Will do.”
He opens the door but turns to face me before stepping through it. “I’m glad you have someone here with you,” he adds softly as he glances at the framed picture of Delaney and me by the door. “I know you have Jane and that you two are close, but it’s been a long time since you weren’t alone.”
I don’t reply, mainly because my throat tightens with the urge to cry, which in turn only pisses me the hell off. I’ve never been a crier, and I have no intention of starting now.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Anytime, kid.” The door shuts softly behind him, and I reach for my cell charging on the counter. Forty missed calls from Ramirez, Jane, and Jack. Shit. I tap Jack’s contact and put the phone up to my ear.
“Hey, Rainey, ’bout damn time.”
Since he won’t buy the whole ‘ate something weird’ excuse given that as hunters, we don’t get sick, I go a different route. “I’ve had a lot going on with work.”
“Okay,” he replies, but his tone sounds unconvinced.
My shower turns off, and I glance over at my closed bedroom door. “I need to go. Just wanted to let you know I was fine. Call you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. But, Rainey?”
“Yeah?”
“Disappear like that again and I’ll risk you killing me for violating the ‘don’t show up before calling’ rule. A few texts here and there won’t stop me next time.”
“Understood. But you should know that I will hold up my end of that and put you down.”
“Fair enough.”
Ending the call, I tap on Jane’s contact information and prepare myself for a tongue lashing. “Rainey Astor, you bitch!”
“I’m sorry,” I plead. “I ate something weird.”
“What? Oh! That’s what you think this is about?”
“What else would it be about?”
“I don’t know, the sexy-ass man staying at your apartment yesterday when I went to check on you.”
Balls. Ramirez did say she came here. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You met Elijah, then?”
“Yes! I made him let me in to check on you when he said you were sleeping. I had to make sure he wasn’t a psycho, you know?”
“Let me get this straight. You came into my apartment—alone—when a stranger opened my door?” I shake my head despite her not being able to see me. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Jane.”
“I had my pepper spray.”
I laugh, my sides aching with the jostling. “Can’t say you weren’t prepared then, can I?”
“No, you can’t,” she confirms. “So, you okay to give me the details now that you’ve spent two days in bed with one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen?”
“Not yet, but I’ll come to the café tomorrow? Or maybe the next day. Not sure how long it’ll take before I feel like myself again.”
“You better or I’m coming to you. Even if it means interrupting your sexy naked time.”
“I promise.”
“Love your beautiful whore face,” she says before hanging up.
With a grimace, I push to my feet, holding onto the wall as I make my way to my bedroom. Cautiously, I shove open the door just in time to see Elijah walk out, towel around his waist, his chest slick with water.
My mouth goes dry once again as I drink him in. Even in my pained state, I can appreciate the man before me. I swear even his muscles have muscles. It’s ridiculous. His hair is wet and slicked back from his face, his eyes leveled on me as though he’s just as surprised at my reaction as I am.
Or maybe he’s having the same feeling. His eyes darken, his breathing growing more ragged by the second, the sounds making it seem as though he’s fighting for each individual breath. Forcing my eyes away from his, I take in the rest of his body.
The black ink I only got a peek of earlier is on full display, starting at his collarbone and spanning his entire torso and both muscular arms. The shapes and swirls each able to stand on their own and yet coming together to form one delicate design.
The blood hammers in my ears as I refocus on his face. Something about him—he pulls to me, a moth to a flame, and I want to run my hands over every inch of his hard body. Want to bury my face in his thick hair, feel his hands on my body as—he turns away from me, reducing the effects of whatever the hell is going on with me.
But with his back turned, I get an eyeful of all the lines tattooed on his body as they come together to form a massive tree.
“Your friend gone?” he asks as he grabs his slacks and tugs them on before dropping his towel. I should turn away, but I can’t tear my eyes from him.
“Is your name really Elijah?” I ask as I stumble toward the bed. Out for two days and still in this much pain? They must have nearly killed me.
“It is.” He watches me the entire way, relaxing only once I’m safely on the mattress.
“And you brought me home from the alley?”
“I did.”
I shut my eyes tightly and try to remember everything from the day I was attacked. I remember being—“Did you slap me? Twice?”
“Not hard. But I needed you to stay awake long enough to tell me how to get the adrenaline out of your kit.”
“You slapped me,” I repeat.
He shrugs. “It was that or you would have had a date with the Reaper.” Elijah pulls on his shirt and rebuttons it. Then, he strolls over to the armchair in the corner of my room like he owns the place before sitting down and pulling on his shoes.
“Why were you there?”
He glances up at me, eyes darkened with whatever is affecting us both. If I hadn’t heard his heart, it would make
me wonder if he were even human. “How about you go shower, and then we’ll finish our chat.” Pushing to his feet, he walks out of my room and into the bathroom before I have a chance to respond. The shower comes on, water hitting the tile floor.
If I breathe in deeply enough, I can smell the stench of my own blood and sweat, so I can’t imagine this hunter is super pleased with the smell. I reach down and try to lift my shirt, but the movement has me hissing in pain.
Two days should have been enough to heal me. It’s never taken longer than twenty-four hours, and I’ve recovered from some horrible shit.
“They nearly killed you,” Elijah confirms from the doorway. I glance up and meet his pained gaze. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did—”
“I thought I saw something in the alley, it’s why I went down in the first place.”
“What?”
“A blurred shape? I know that sounds crazy.”
At my words, a muscle in his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything. “Not crazy at all.” But he doesn’t elaborate. “Do you need help?”
Nodding, I hold his gaze as he crosses my bedroom. “Eyes closed.”
“I wouldn’t dream of peeking,” he says, his deep voice gravelly.
His fingers grip the hem of my shirt, grazing my skin as they did earlier. I shiver, lust pooling in my belly despite my pain. He holds out an arm, eyes still closed, and I grip it, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his biceps.
I stand and reach down to remove my sweats. Thankfully, they just fall to the floor. “Okay, I’m ready,” I say. Eyes still closed, he guides me to the door with the expertise of someone who probably spent two days going through my shit and now knows my apartment as well as I do, and helps me into the shower.
“I’ll be out here if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
The door closes, and I close my eyes, tilting my head up as the hot spray washes over me. When I look back down at the tile floor, I see that it’s covered in my now diluted blood.
Showered and feeling as normal as possible again, I step out onto the cool tile floor. At some point during my steamed escape, Elijah brought in another pair of sweats and my Billings Police Department sweatshirt.
I take a seat on the toilet and manage to get my sweats on without breaking into tears. A feat to be sure because my body still feels as if it was hit by a train. The sweatshirt takes a hell of a lot more work, but I manage to get my head into it before working my arms into the sleeves, one by one.
Then, I grip the side of the wall and stand. My bed is freshly made, my old sheets piled in the corner of my bedroom. When I step all the way out of the bathroom, Elijah turns to me from his place near the window, his eyes back to a normal blue.
“You changed my sheets?”
“I hope that was all right. They were covered in blood.”
“Sure, thanks. I guess.” One hand on the wall, I clear my throat. “That was you at the club, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
“Coincidence?”
Elijah shakes his head. “I’ve been following you, Rainey. For about five weeks now.”
“Why?” I start toward my bed, one labored step after the other.
“I knew your sister.”
I sway on my feet, catching myself with a hand on my bed as I lower myself onto the mattress. “You knew Delaney?”
“I did. We were…acquaintances.”
“My sister never mentioned you, and I’m pretty damned sure she would have.” Sexy Irishman? Delaney would have absolutely mentioned him if only to brag to me.
“Unlikely. We weren’t in a sexual relationship, if that’s what’s going through your mind at the moment. Delaney and I were—as I said—just acquaintances. I helped her on occasion, and she lent me a hand when I needed it.”
“What kind of help?”
“The kind you get from a hunter,” he replies.
“Are you the one who rescued those people from the nest?”
“I was.”
“And you sent them to me.”
He nods.
“Why?”
“Because I knew no one else would believe them. Though, I was quite disappointed you went to the tunnels alone. It was foolish.”
I cross my arms. “So, you pulled me out of there too.”
“I did. You killed a council member.”
“So I’ve heard.” I let out a breath. “I didn’t know it at the time. I just assumed she was some rich bloodsucker.”
He chuckles. “While that is a correct assumption, it’s one that could have gotten you killed.” His eyes darken again, this time with anger. “You never should have gone in alone, Rainey. It was foolish.”
“How did you follow me in without me realizing it? I would have remembered seeing you.”
“I’m fairly light on my feet,” he replies, once again evading my question. “Besides, you were pretty out of it. When I set you on the sidewalk, I’m not even sure you could see much of anything.”
“Then why leave me there?”
“You called someone to come get you. I was no longer needed.”
I scoot up onto my bed, leaning back against my headboard. “Did you bring my bike back?”
“I did.”
“How did you know about the Skittles?”
Elijah chuckles and comes to sit on the edge of the freshly made bed. “As I mentioned, I’ve been following you, Rainey. It’s pretty much the first thing I discovered about you.” He leans forward and brushes a strand of my hair off my cheek. The action is kind—tender—and it stirs up feelings I’m determined to cram the hell back down.
I swallow hard, staring into his eyes as he leans back. “So, you’re a hunter then?” Two new hunters in Billings? What the hell is going on?
His gaze darkens. “Sort of. Though, I’m not like you.”
“Not a born one?” I’ve heard of humans discovering our world and taking it upon themselves to become vigilantes. But I don’t get that vibe from him. And more than that, there’s no way in hell a Norm could have saved me in that alley. I study him, a new curiousness replacing my unease. If he and Delaney were friends, then maybe he knows who killed her. What if he had a hand in it?
“No, I wasn’t born a hunter.”
“How did you meet my sister?”
“She was attacked in an abandoned house, and I was walking by. I heard the fight and ran in.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I stare at him. “You expect me to believe you were just strolling by an abandoned house?”
Elijah chuckles. “Perhaps I was following her too.”
“Why?”
“Hunters like you attract the attention of creatures.”
Swallowing hard, I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “Were you using her as bait?”
He tilts his head to the side as he considers my words. “No. I had no way of knowing she was going to get attacked. Unlike you, she didn’t lean toward racing into a place without knowing exactly what she was going into. I didn’t believe the supernaturals in there posed her any real threat, but I was wrong.”
My throat tightens, the familiar burn of unshed tears making it hard to keep my voice steady. “Were you with her when she was killed?”
He stares at me, all amusement gone from his blue gaze as he shakes his head. “I wasn’t, but I wish I had been.” His hands clench into fists on the arms of the chair, his jaw hard. “I would have saved her.” His anger is believable, and any doubt I had that he may have been involved with her death vanishes.
I’m pretty good at reading people—one of the things that makes me a good cop. And this guy is not lying. Nodding, I look away as my throat tightens once again. This is the first time I’ve met someone I didn’t know who knew Delaney.
“Your sister was a good person and a strong hunter,” Elijah offers. “You should be proud to be of her blood.”
“I am.”
“And less reckless with your life.”
At that, I turn back to
him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re the last of your line, Rainey. Because of that, and due to your lineage, you have more power than any other hunter alive.”
I snort. “Yeah, I showcased that—what, two days ago, right? As I was getting my ass kicked in an alleyway and needed you to play the hero.”
There’s no humor in his gaze. “There was no honor in that fight, those bastards jumped you and they paid a price for that mistake.”
“You killed them.”
“I did.” He smiles, and I don’t miss the lethal snake slithering beneath the surface of the aristocratic exterior. Human or not, this guy is dangerous; there’s no doubt about that.
Narrowing my gaze, I cock my head to the side. “How do you know so much about hunters?”
“I study.” Elijah stands. “Since you appear to be on the road to healing, I’ll be going. I’m in desperate need of fresh clothing.” He walks to my bedroom door.
“Elijah?”
“Yes?”
“Will you be back? I have more questions,” I add quickly so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. No matter how hot he is, my interest is purely because I want the information he may have. Or so I tell myself.
“I’m not going anywhere for long, Rainey. We still have much to discuss. I programmed my number into your phone while you were sleeping. Call if you need anything. And for the love of God, stop going into dark alleys or vampire nests alone.”
With that, he’s gone. My front door closes, so I get to my feet and use the wall to prop myself up as I carefully walk over to lock it. Still using the wall to make my movements easier, I head back to my bedroom and lie back onto my pillow.
In the last four days, I’ve been nearly killed three times. That can’t be a coincidence. The first time, I was saved by Jack—a new-to-the-area hunter. The second and third times, I was pulled to safety by Elijah—who’s also a new-to-me hunter. Though, if he knew my sister, chances are he was local before.
What the hell is going on? My eyes grow heavy, so I close them, and as my thoughts begin to blend together, the exhaustion taking over again, one thing remains.
Ice-blue eyes watching me in the dark.
Blood Hunt Page 10
