Rourke (New Vampire Disorder Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

Grace felt no pity.

  “It was official business.” Bishop squared off against them. Grace couldn’t even see the males beyond his broad back. “Manka committed a serious crime. She defied the Synod’s mandates.”

  “That filthy animal won’t be allowed to walk out of here if he ever enters again. We’ll neuter him.”

  The muscles in Bishop’s back went rigid at the insult and threat. “And they’ll grow back, dumbass. Then he’ll kill you.”

  Hisses reached her ears. “I think we need to send him a message.”

  The words were directed at Grace, and she knew exactly what they meant.

  “Run, Grace.” Bishop crouched and met the attackers head-on. She had zero fighting experience; she sprinted for the door.

  An attempt at flashing yielded no success. Did they do something to the club or was it just her terror?

  Yanked back into a hard chest, she twisted and dropped to the ground. Kicking out with her leg, she tripped the male who’d pinned her. A bellow from Bishop had him spinning to bury his meaty fist into the male.

  Grace scrambled to her feet and raced for the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bishop’s limbs swinging, punching, kicking. How could a giant be so graceful? Any guilt she had at deserting him drained away. She’d only be a liability, and it’d take two more vampires fighting against him to make it an even fight.

  Out in the night, she ran in the direction of Bishop’s Hummer. Her flight came to an abrupt stop when she slammed into a body that suddenly appeared.

  Strong arms steadied her and for one second her mind almost sighed in relief at the smoky smell that greeted her.

  But this scent was laced with brimstone.

  Raising her eyes, she gazed into a pair much like Rourke’s, only darker. Rourke’s brother wore a sinister smile and pulled her closer.

  “We meet again, Grace.”

  She opened her mouth to blast his eardrums with a shattering scream, but he laid a finger across her lips.

  She snapped at it.

  He only chuckled. “Don’t make a scene. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your parents.”

  “They’re dead.” Her foot stomped down onto his, but he only winced slightly.

  “What you don’t know is they weren’t your parents.”

  She stilled.

  No lie came from him. Did the demon influence prevent the action?

  His chest rumbled in a chuckle. “That’s right. They were your babysitters. Your real parents are alive, and they think you’re dead. But if you’re really good, I’ll tell you who they are.”

  Her decision was made. “I’ll go with you.”

  Chapter Eight

  The young boy peered up at Rourke.

  He’d put the kid’s age at around nine, but he could be older. Like humans, if not given enough nourishment during the formative years, vampires did not reach their full height potential.

  Rourke’s masters had wanted him strong. Once sold, Rourke finally experienced a moderately full belly.

  Before that, his life paralleled the street urchin in front of him. Living in a rundown shack that should be condemned in a poor part of the city. Running the streets as a kid to scavenge anything from food to money to something that could be sold for food or money.

  Cut off from the primes’ resources, unable to secure employment with the wealthy families, commoners couldn’t just go out and get a job as vampires. Some managed, but nightshifts weren’t the most high-paying jobs around.

  “I told ya, I don’t know who lived here before us.” The boy’s eyes darted to the left and right.

  Smart kid. Always plan a way out.

  Rourke pulled a twenty from his pocket. The kid stepped in and Rourke took a long step back, sending him a warning look. “Keep your distance, boy. If my wallet disappears, I’ll hunt you down and expect interest.”

  After a brief flare of alarm, the kid’s expression turned shrewd. “Gimme the money and I’ll find out…if you triple it.”

  “I don’t just want their names. I want to know what happened to all of the Rourkes.” He noticed the boy calculating the info, but Rourke beat him to the equation. “I’ll pay you a hundred—on top of this.” He waved the twenty.

  Snatching the twenty, the kid took off with a, “Wait here.”

  Young humans wandered by. Some sizing him up, most ignoring him. He might get trouble from the stupid ones, but the majority of humans listened to their instincts that said he was a male that shouldn’t be fucked with.

  Rourke scanned up and down the street. Same buildings, more wear and tear. Shops were boarded up because no one could keep a business open for long. Too much theft, not enough law enforcement.

  A half hour later, light steps smacking the pavement turned his head. The boy skidded to a stop an acceptable distance away and held a hand out.

  “Not how this works,” Rourke informed him. He pulled out the cash so the kid could see he was good for it.

  A scowl lit his youthful face. “Look, I went to one of the old-timers. He said his pa talked of the Rourkes, how they disappeared like sixty years ago without paying their mortgage. The old-timer thought they had two kids, but one died when he was a little older than me.”

  Rourke bit his tongue to keep from baring his fangs. Died. He had wished many times.

  “The other kid grew up and left home. Old guy said one night the Rourkes were just gone. He heard arguing ‘n’ shit and then they were gone. Left all their crap behind. After that, it’s been a stream of various people. Want their names? I can give ’em to ya for an extra twenty.”

  Osiris was gone when their parents disappeared, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to do with it. He was always an ambitious bastard. Rourke doubted he’d dulled in that area any.

  “I don’t need the names.” Rourke passed the kid the hundred and withdrew another twenty. “Keep this one for yourself.”

  A small hand snatched them out and pocketed the bills while he furtively glanced around. It wasn’t necessary. Rourke ensured no one saw their transaction, otherwise he would’ve pinned a giant target on the kid.

  Gritting his teeth in frustration, he strolled down the filthy street. Where the hell had Osiris slunk to? He’d left home and gotten involved with demons before traumatizing his Grace.

  His Grace.

  Her taste was seared into his being; her blood sang through his veins. He was pleasantly full for the first time in his life.

  His steps slowed. Grace must be hungry. Would she feed while she was with Bishop? His lip curled into a snarl. Would she feed from Bishop?

  A growl escaped. Grace’s fangs touching any other male made him empathize with the shifters who go feral. Rage with no direction…unless he found the individual Grace had fed from, then it’d be destructive. Male, female, he didn’t like it. He wanted Grace to feed from him.

  Rourke experienced the customary recoil he usually did toward feeding. Only it wasn’t as strong with Grace. Lust almost overpowered years of abuse.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. When he pulled it out, Bishop’s name read across the screen.

  As soon as he picked up, Bishop’s rough voice cut through. “Is she with you?”

  Rourke slowed to a stop, dread sinking into his bones. “If you’re talking about Grace, you’d better fucking be with me.”

  Bishop swore. “I took her to Sharpe Pointe to get a lead on the boy, but I was jumped by three guys pissed about Manka.”

  “It was quick.” Probably. Depended how angry Zoey was. “They should be grateful.”

  “I told Grace to run, and now I can’t find her.”

  Can’t find her banged around his skull. “Did she flash back to her home? To the trail where her parents were killed? What about headquarters.”

  “I’ve never been to her home, but I’m driving there. I tried the woods where we were last night and headquarters.”

  Rourke didn’t bother looking around to ensure there’d be no witnesses to his sud
den disappearance. He flashed to Grace’s home and busted inside. It was already partially empty thanks to the team Demetrius hired to remove the Ottos’ stuff.”

  Any trace of her scent from the previous night had dissipated. She wasn’t there.

  “Don’t bother with her home. She hasn’t been here.”

  A loud thump resonated through the phone as Bishop hit the dash of his car. “There’s a park down the street. Meet me there so we don’t make the neighbors suspicious.”

  The scent of fresh blood hit his nostrils. He glanced down. The hand not holding the phone bled from where his nails dug into his skin. Forcibly, he unclenched his fist.

  Calm. Controlled. He was not an animal.

  But if Grace was harmed, he’d become a monster.

  ***

  Grace jerked her elbow free from Osiris’ grasp. He’d flashed her to a…holy moly, was that a mansion?

  They stood in front of an ornate door. Polished wood arched high above her head. Osiris opened it and ushered her in.

  She recalled Rourke flashing her to the entrance of his headquarters and how she couldn’t flash in the club. It wasn’t her. Some buildings must be no flashing zones and this was one of them.

  Several smells assaulted her as she studied her surroundings. Old world elegance. Heavy embroidered fabrics hung off the walls, massive antique furniture dotted the room, and the shiny, black flooring had to be marble. Whoever built this place wanted the everyone to know they were filthy rich. Was this how the prime families lived?

  “Who are my parents?”

  Osiris smiled down at her. She was struck by a face so similar to Rourke’s smiling. God, he’d look handsome. But on his brother…she suppressed shudder. He was like a snake eyeballing lunch.

  Sorry, she’d already fed her predator for the day. Ceasing those thoughts before arousal wafted off her, she tapped her foot with impatience.

  “We need to discuss the terms of our deal first, Grace. Come.”

  Following Osiris was like getting invited to tea by a serial killer. Which, if there was tea, was exactly what was happening. Other than the brimstone, his scent didn’t match what she’d smelled in the woods. It was a little familiar from the crime scene the previous night. Even if he didn’t strike the death blows, he was involved in all of them, she was sure of it.

  He led her into a large office with floor to ceiling windows—a bold move for a vampire. An ornate desk sat in front of the windows. He took a seat behind the desk and gestured to an obnoxious high-back chair.

  “This place yours?”

  He inclined his head. Moonlight glimmered across his hair. Again her mind conjured Rourke in the woods when they met. She needed to distract herself.

  “What a dive.”

  A grin spread across his face. Unlike his brother, he easily showed emotion, but it wasn’t genuine. At least with Rourke, there was no pretense.

  “We need your help.” He reclined back and steepled his fingers while his calculated gaze rested on her.

  As if. “Oh?”

  “I’m afraid my brother’s gotten out of control.” He paused for dramatic effect. “He killed your human parents.”

  Grace’s brows shot up. Osiris didn’t know she remembered him. “How do you know?”

  “We’ve been tracking him. Settled in Demetrius’ crew, he’s nearly untouchable. He attacked your caregivers, then the humans who raised you. If I were to guess, I’d think he has an obsession with you.”

  “But he didn’t kill the family from last night.”

  Surprise flitted across his face. “There were more murders?”

  He was good. Grace couldn’t tell if he was full of shit or not. Osiris sat forward, his expression grave.

  “Can someone account for Ozias’ whereabouts?”

  “I guess he was with,” Grace wanted to gag on the words even knowing nothing happened, “another woman.”

  “Human?”

  Grace shook her head.

  His scrutiny gave her shivers, but she kept her breathing steady. Something was going on in the vampire world. She was involved. Rourke was involved. And Osiris was most definitely involved. Her human upbringing didn’t have many advantages in the game, but she had unique access to most of the players. She’d use that.

  “A vampire with Rourke’s strength wouldn’t need much time to decimate—how many victims?”

  “Hopefully only two, maybe three. There’s a boy missing.” Which you well know. Grace wanted to find that little boy before he suffered the fate that had been waiting for her all those years ago.

  “Indeed?” Osiris’ words oozed with deceit. “Even with three victims, Ozias is an experienced killer. Can the female account for every minute?” His voice dripped with suspicion.

  Bile crept up her throat. It’s hard to be an alibi after death. Grace despised how Rourke’s character was dependent on him being with Manka. If he’d been strapping down a male, would she still have issues?

  Probably not. Just the idea of Rourke with another female pissed her the hell off. He’d said Zoey struck the killing blow, but Rourke didn’t have a history with her as far as Grace knew.

  “Grace. Were there any clues that pointed to Rourke?”

  Like he was stupid enough to sign his name? How to get around the question without lying enough for him to smell it.

  “Demetrius didn’t mention any.” It was hard to when he wasn’t there.

  “He wouldn’t.” Disgust dripped off Osiris’ tone. “He’s protected Ozias for decades. You can help, Grace.”

  “Rourke’s searching for the boy, though.”

  Did Grace imagine his left eye twitch? He hated being reminded about Ari. Did that mean the boy was alive or dead?

  His expression betrayed nothing. “It’s easy to lead the search astray when you know where the missing person is.”

  He’s alive? “And when do you tell me about my parents? Before or after I help?”

  His eyes briefly darkened to full black.

  Grace didn’t know what caused it, but her intuition screamed it was wrong and the spike in brimstone was a strong hint of evil.

  “My brother could kill others, even your real parents. Do you not want to put a stop to him?”

  “I have only you to believe, and we just met. Perhaps if I met them…” Please, please, please don’t be fucking with me.

  If her birth parents were still alive…Grace’s hopes soared. They’d be strangers; would they recognize her? If they did, would they accept her? But she had no one else. Had repeatedly lost her loved ones—or she had thought. Parents who were alive…The idea filled the gaping chasm torn open within her two nights ago.

  The atmosphere within the room had grown colder, even while Grace sweated under her collar. The stench of sulfur swelled and seeped away until a bare taste lingered.

  Osiris studied her. She twiddled her fingers in her lap. It was an appropriate time to let her nerves shine.

  “You have two nights to gather information, Grace.”

  “Three days grace is more common.” Jokes about rock bands fell flat on Osiris. Damn her mouth. Like her mom accused, No filter, Grace. You have no filter.

  “Two. Nights. Tell no one, not about me, not about your parents. No need to give my brother another target. Monitor Ozias’ habits and report back to me.”

  And she was supposed to go off on her little errand not knowing if he spoke the truth. “Then do I get to their information?”

  Osiris opened a side drawer in the desk and pulled out a photo. He slid it across the desk. “I’ll give you your parents when you give me Ozias.”

  Grace’s hand trembled as she tugged the picture toward her. She inhaled sharply when her eyes landed on the vampires in the picture.

  If Osiris was lying, he found a couple who resembled her. The female’s golden skin was several shades lighter than Grace’s, while the male’s skin tone reminded Grace of fine chocolate. Her own skin color fell smack in between, like her eye color.

/>   As for hair, if this guy was her dad, she didn’t know where her curls came from. He was bald as could be. The natural highlights were all from her mom. Grace was average height among humans, and she’d noticed, short compared to vampires. If she stood next to this couple, she’d be shorter than them both.

  Perhaps Osiris lied. Her entire being screamed he didn’t.

  “You look like them,” he commented.

  “I do.” She placed the picture back on the desk. There was no way she could keep their meeting secret if Rourke found the picture. And she wanted it kept secret, until she knew what was going on. “I’m sure I’m shorter than them, though.”

  “Not a surprise. Obviously the Otto’s nourished you, but not like vampire parents could. If you had been reared by vampires, you’d be at least three inches taller.”

  Her human mom and dad had taken turns feeding her. But Osiris was correct. She’d suffered from mild blood hunger for years until she could hunt for herself. She’d never ingested vampire blood and it must be different.

  With the thought of blood came a rumble from her belly.

  “Are you hungry, Grace?” His voice dropped an octave and arousal rose from him like steam tendrils.

  Starving.

  He pushed up a sleeve. “May I offer?”

  The sanguine color to his eyes told Grace he’d gladly do more than feed her.

  Her stomach revolted. She put her hand to her mouth. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”

  His eyes narrowed on her, the red drained out. He held up his arm. “It’s just from the wrist.”

  “I’m just—with all the excitement, my stomach’s not feeling so hot.”

  “Indeed.” A calculating gleam entered his eye. “Your parents for Rourke, then? I hate to add that, while I wouldn’t want any harm to befall your family, again, it’s dire we contain Rourke. If he finds out about them, I guarantee they’ll be dead within hours. Maybe…he’ll even lose it and kill the boy.”

  The threat was obvious enough. She had to two nights and she only had to report on Rourke’s routine. Two days to figure out what the hell to do. “My parents for Rourke.” She left Ari out of it, like, maybe he’d forget his threat against the child. The couple in the picture, if they were who Osiris said, were at least adults.