Rourke (New Vampire Disorder Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  “No. Peasant.” Her eyelids moved like she rolled her eyes, but the complete blackness made it hard to tell. “Our strength is not limited like all the species roaming the earth.”

  Said the demons who won’t completely bond because they could get killed in this realm. Rourke lifted an eyebrow.

  She settled back to assess him. “You really are handsome. I’ll grudgingly accept the appeal, even with your station. You’re a strong male, and…” Her gaze swept his body. “…easy on the eyes. Anyway, it only takes one of us in the underworld to maintain rule.”

  “Then why are there thirteen of you?”

  “Because that’s how many of us were spawned.” She laughed like it was a hell of a joke. “Symbolism has power, and the number thirteen holds much significance, both above and below the human realm.”

  “Won’t your rule slip away once the entire Circle finds a host?”

  Grace’s chin tilted up. He’d delivered a solid blow to her pride.

  “Then we can pass back and forth freely. I’m sure you were told as much by the second tier failure who bonded to that Augustus child.”

  Calli. “Draken?”

  “Mmm.” A reluctant confirmation.

  His phone buzzed with a text. Extracting it from his pocket, he read the message. Demetrius was on his way, and Rourke had gotten little information.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t have targeted a child,” he murmured, staring at his screen as if he’d absently said the words.

  “Please,” she scoffed. “It’s ingenious. Grace should’ve been ours, but Osiris couldn’t find the little brat. It cost him severely. He wouldn’t have needed her if you hadn’t been such a disappointment. Added to his reasons of why he hates you.”

  “As if he has any legitimate claim to despise me.”

  “He and your parents were promised riches, but you were a failure and Osiris stayed destitute.”

  “What payoff did I block? I heard he lives in a mansion.”

  “The one he’s going to receive now that we have Grace.” A condescending chuckle escaped. “You vampires are like humans with your obsession with money.”

  “So you plan to dwell like a commoner when you inhabit this realm?”

  “Ha! You’re a funny one.”

  Nothing he’d been accused of before, but it proved demons weren’t just after the blood power of the primes.

  “Where’s the boy?”

  Bita frowned. “What boy?”

  As if she didn’t know. “The one who was taken when Osiris destroyed the last family.”

  Her expression was perplexed. “A prime child?” she asked hopefully.

  A simple cut of his head to the left answered her question.

  Her confusion remained. “Then why would I care? We learned our lesson with you. Perhaps the boy will follow the same path you took at a young age.”

  “The demon inhabiting Osiris isn’t one of the thirteen?”

  A flicker in her dark gaze disappeared before Rourke could discern what it meant.

  “Why would you think we would target him when you were such a disappointment?”

  Because Osiris was older, and would’ve been stronger at the time.

  Bita’s gaze flickered over his shoulder when the door opened. He didn’t turn when Demetrius and Calli entered the room. Ophelia hung outside. Creed remained in his office, but the scents of Zoey and Bishop lingered by the door.

  All hands on deck for this case.

  Demetrius flanked him on his right, while Calli took up a stance on his left. A current of alarm snaked through the oily orbs from which Bita studied them. Calli held a sheet of paper with what Rourke assumed was the words to the undoing written on it.

  Bita’s eyes flicked from the paper, to each one of them and back to the paper.

  The sheet appeared in front of him, held by Calli who hadn’t taken her eyes off of Bita.

  The slightest smug curl on Grace’s mouth made Rourke pause. Inspecting her closely, he passed the page to Demetrius who stood on his left.

  The expression dropped and creases of tension appeared around Grace’s eyes.

  Demetrius snagged the sheet with a slight questioning look.

  “You have the blood and the power to do this,” Rourke explained.

  “You’re Grace’s mate.” Demetrius retained the paper, but steadied his attention on Bita.

  Her jaw tightened imperceptibly when her eyes darted from the undoing to Rourke.

  “I am, but as Bita liked to point out, I’m broken.” The edge of Rourke’s mouth lifted in a smirk.

  Bita bared her fangs and colored drained from Grace’s features. She lunged up and rammed the glass so hard Rourke flinched, as did Calli and Demetrius.

  “Start reading,” Calli urged.

  Demetrius’ voice filled the room. Bita rammed the glass over and over. Rourke’s muscles vibrated. The urge to race to Grace’s aid before the demon beat her unconscious was overpowering. He shoved his hands in his pockets, then snatched them back out lest he palm his lock pick kit.

  Her screaming started as Demetrius reached the end of the passage. Rourke wanted to steal a glance and see how many more fucking words were left, but he couldn’t pry his eyes off of Grace.

  Blood streamed down her face. Each jolt against the Plexiglas opening a head gash even further. Her nose was probably broken. He blanched at the sickening crack of more facial bones breaking. Reinforced as it was, the panel quivered with each full body blow.

  Hellfire, wasn’t this done yet?

  When the black receded and a gleam of gingerbread brown flickered, Rourke jumped to the lock.

  “Rourke, no!” Calli tugged on his arm, but he shook her off.

  Both of them froze when Grace arched her back, her mouth frozen in a silent scream. Her arms were outstretched, rigid.

  Rourke’s kit was in his hand in a heartbeat, and he blindly chose any pick. He jammed it into the lock only to realize two things. One, he’d busted the slim strip of silver in half. Two, this lock was electronic and he fucking knew that, but Grace’s agony zapped his mind.

  Creed must’ve been on the ball in the control room because a click sounded before Demetrius intoned the last word and the shriek broke free from Grace.

  Rourke kicked the door open the rest of the way only to pull up short. Calli bumped into him and gasped.

  Grace was levitating, her back curved at an ungodly angle while she thrashed against some unseen force.

  With one final, eardrum shattering wail, Grace collapsed to the ground. Her head hit the concrete floor with an appalling crack.

  He and Calli lunged forward, but they were both snapped back.

  “No.” Demetrius’ grip was an iron band. “I’ve seen this before. Stay back until the underworld claims Bita.”

  A gaping, black hole opened under Grace’s body. An image of a horned biped beast rose from her body. Bita snarled and snapped at the unseen force pulling her from her host.

  “She will always have a part of me.” Bita snarled, her real voice grating and hoarse. “I will get her back.”

  The demon was dragged into the blackness.

  Was that a real portal between realms? The yawning chasm rapidly shrunk, creating a suction. Grace’s body shifted, drawn toward the ingesting hole.

  Rourke ripped his arm free from Demetrius and dove for her, wrapping his hand around her ankles. There was no gentleness, just a sense to get her the fuck out of there.

  There was a slight resistance, a tug of war for Grace.

  Then, the spot snapped closed, releasing shock waves that toppled everyone who stood on their feet.

  Three vampires hit the ground. Grace’s legs dropped like lead. Sudden silence.

  Rourke blinked, his focus returning to the destroyed body in front of him.

  ***

  Grace groaned and attempted to roll over, but her head throbbed.

  What the hell had happened? Her memory was nonexistent. Slowly, her senses fed her information.<
br />
  The delicious smoky smell warmed her and lessened the pounding. Had Rourke actually stayed the day? That’d be a huge development in their relationship.

  Then Calli’s scent and the one she learned was Ophelia wafted over her. Well, they certainly hadn’t had a slumber party.

  She pried her eyes open. Her blurry vision landed on a hunched form sitting in the chair across from her bed.

  “Rourke?” she croaked.

  God, he looked good. His head hung down between his broad shoulders, his hands folded, elbows resting on his knees. He hadn’t moved.

  She sat up with a gasp, then clutched her head as all the details rolled back.

  The words Osiris coerced out of her. The slimy sensation that had oozed into her and taken control whenever it goddamn felt like it.

  “Rourke, I’m so sorry.” Her face screwed up with remorse. A sob escaped.

  One clear memory was the coldness that had settled back over him. He’d closed himself off from her again.

  “Save the apologies.” His tone said they were unwelcome. “They’re useless. Recover. We need you to find my brother, and maybe there’s still hope we can find the boy before he’s killed or defiled.”

  His voice was made of stone. But by now, she was in tune with him enough to detect the current of hurt and anger.

  She’d cut him deeply, but she’d been trying to protect an innocent couple. Osiris would’ve hurt them to get to her, birth parents or not.

  “My parents—”

  “Are waiting in the conference room.” A thread of bitterness this time. “Demetrius gave them the details. They lost a little girl at the same time you were orphaned. The Blanchettes look like you.”

  Blanchette. Her given name. A good one, though giving up Otto wasn’t something she was ready to do.

  He rose, his large frame looming over her. Where it should be comforting, welcoming, and if she had her way, it would be. Instead, it was disheartening. The barrier he’d built between them was more solid than any of the concrete structures comprising the compound.

  She opened her mouth to say his name again, to plead with him to understand, but she shut it. Cleaning up this mess might be the only way he’d open back up to her. He had to know she’d easily sacrifice herself for a child or to prevent anyone else from getting hurt. At least in her parent’s case, it had worked. The boy, though…

  Rourke stalked to the door where he paused to glance over his shoulder. “You’ll need to feed. Ophelia has offered. If you still feel a bond toward me, she has medicine for that.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? Why?” She shook her head at his chilled stare, and immediately regretted the movement when the pain roared back. “You’re just throwing us away? Do you even know the circumstances?”

  “You collaborated with Osiris at my expense to save your prime parents.”

  He spoke with keen scorn that cut deep.

  “And you don’t think I should’ve tried to save them and the boy, Ari, and gathered as many details as I could to bring back to you? I trusted you could handle him if he went after you.”

  He turned to face her, his eyes as dark as any demon’s. “That’s the thing Grace. You didn’t trust me or any of us. You found out the roots of your heritage and suddenly we became disposable.”

  How could he think that? She didn’t have time to ask. He stalked out and the door to her bedroom slammed before her question finished forming.

  Muted voices drifted in from the living area in her suite. No wonder she scented the other females.

  Grace heard the front door open and close and the bereft feeling she was left with meant Rourke had left.

  Ophelia charged in, her expression almost as cold as Rourke’s. “Okay, let’s do this.” She flicked a small object toward Grace.

  An oval capsule landed in her lap. She picked it up to inspect it, sniffing it delicately. The strong herbal odor crinkled her nose; it was the medicine to help her feed and not get sick.

  “Excuse me.” Grace held the pill out, away from her nose. “I’m not taking this.”

  “You need to feed and lead us to Osiris.” The attitude coming from the little female wasn’t sitting well with Grace. “That is, if you’re not going to protect him.”

  If they all were going to treat her like last week’s garbage, she didn’t need to stay here. She had a family now—again.

  All the determined words wouldn’t change her heart breaking at how easily Rourke walked away from her.

  Grace tossed the pill back to Ophelia, who snapped it out of the air with a glare.

  “I’m not taking it, and I don’t need your charity blood.”

  “It’s not charity.” Ophelia’s voice rose. They were instant adversaries. “It’s necessity. You’ve been to Osiris’ place. You can flash there again. Are you strong enough to flash?”

  Grace gave a stubborn shake of her pounding head.

  “Are you unwilling to bring us to Osiris so we can kill him?”

  “Of course not,” Grace snapped. “Maybe I made an error in judgement. But excuse me if I’m a little pissed Rourke’s thinks I threw him to the wolves when I was the one a demon played house in.”

  “The wolves are the good guys in our world. You tossed Rourke to the side like his parents did. He thinks none of us knew, but I have friends in low places. I’ve heard all the sordid details.”

  “How? How in the world does he see it like that?” I’m nothing like his parents. Grace had been through hell. No. Hell had gone through her. Her soul withered like it’d been defiled—because it had.

  “You didn’t trust him when he clearly let his guard down and trusted you.”

  Grace exhaled, frustrated. “I was protecting him. I love him.”

  Ophelia’s expression said please. “You say that now, after the damage is done.”

  Right. Grace hadn’t told him before, but it’s not like he was on his knees professing his everlasting love.

  “Whatever. This argument needs to be with Rourke, not that getting him to stay in the same room with me so we can have it out will happen.”

  The other female’s lips twitched, as if she wholehearted agreed and Grace rose a few notches in her opinion because of it.

  Ophelia bit into her wrist. The tang of blood filled the air. Grace’s fangs throbbed, she was famished. With great effort, she held her fangs in check while she drank Ophelia’s powerful blood. Sinking them into the other female’s flesh smacked of betrayal although it wasn’t.

  Eventually, the difficulty lessened to match what it was like supping from her family. Grace sensed the same confusion from the tiny female as she felt herself. Only hers was slowly turning to horror.

  She finished, and Ophelia snatched her wrist back.

  “Oh my god.” Grace wiped her mouth. “Shouldn’t that have made me sick?”

  “Not necessarily.” When Grace glanced at her with skepticism, she asked, “Were you able to feed from anyone else after you met Rourke?”

  Grace shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor.

  “Oh.”

  Yeah. Oh. “Are we not true mates anymore?” She might have just met Rourke, but she’d fallen hard. If they hadn’t been mates since she woke up, it didn’t lessen her feelings any. She was mad for the male and mad at him.

  Ophelia scoffed. “That’s never happened. True mates are together for life. Even when they circumvent our nature and step outside of their union, they’re still stuck as mates.”

  “Has any of them had a demon exorcised from them?” The lack of a response was enough of an answer. “It’s a bad sign, isn’t it? Is Bita still in me?”

  “Nooo. That bitch got a one-way ticket back to Hell.” Ophelia’s mouth quirked, like she had more to say.

  “Tell me.”

  Indecision flashed through Ophelia’s expression.

  “Tell. Me.” Grace would not accept anything less than the truth.

  Ophelia cocked a delicate brow at Grace’s demand. “Bita said she�
��d always be with you, and she’d get you back. Bita claimed Rourke broke after a failed bonding attempt. Perhaps it’s something similar.”

  Quick to defend him, she said, “Rourke’s not broken, he’s just a dick.” He was a dick.

  He was a boy who’d been abandoned to a horrible fate and protected himself ever since. And he’d opened up with her. He’d even smiled with his eyes—just for her.

  Ophelia calmly observed Grace’s inner turmoil.

  “He’s not broken and neither am I.” If Grace said it a hundred more times, she might actually believe it. Because the way she had spewed the human’s blood all over his shoes, and turned green at Osiris’ offer to drink from him, she was having a hard time convincing herself she suffered no lingering effects from Bita.

  ***

  Rourke clenched and unclenched his fists. He stood outside the compound with Bishop while they both waited for Grace and Ophelia.

  “What would you have done?” Bishop asked.

  Rourke didn’t have to clarify. They were all caught in the undertow of Grace’s charm, like Rourke had been.

  “I would’ve reported to Demetrius immediately.”

  His friend snorted. “Yeah. You would’ve. The rest of us may have, too. But…”

  A glance at his friend revealed indecision in his eyes, troubled lines at his mouth. For the umpteenth time in weeks, he wondered if Bishop was okay.

  “It’s just…” Bishop shrugged as if struggling to find the words to explain his pensive expression, “There’s a point we all think we can handle it. Our loyalty is with the team, but we think ‘I got this,’ when we may be in over our heads.”

  The blond giant’s sincerity sliced through Rourke’s distrust.

  “I don’t know Grace well, but I buried her family,” Bishop continued. “The same family who rescued her when they thought she had no one. Both times she was helpless, but your piece of shit brother laid out a plan that gave her the illusion she had a modicum of power. Maybe it wasn’t about whose bloodline came from where, but about who she could finally save.”

  Rourke swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and threatened to split his trachea. He coughed back the unwanted feeling surging forward.