Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel

by Gwen Mitchell

  “You need a new shirt,” he said. I thought I detected a trace of humor, but couldn’t be sure. I didn’t find one iota of funny in this situation. He tossed his shirt in my lap and knelt in front of me with the washcloth poised and ready.

  I raised one eyebrow, wondering if he was purposefully trying to distract me from our conversation, or if it was just a side effect of being so aware of him. Even when he wasn’t there, I had Julian on the brain. And just like with any guy that revved my engines, it was getting me into trouble. “Are you going to give me a sponge bath?”

  “If I must.” He took hold of the hem of my blood-soaked shirt.

  I lifted my arms so he could pull it over my head. I was naked underneath, but didn’t feel one bit shy. He smoothed the warm damp cloth over my chilled skin, and what could have been erotic was only comforting. And totally confusing.

  Every time I tried to get mad at him, he would do something so…caring. And yet, every time I tried to get closer, he shut me out. The worst part was, Julian didn’t know about my ridiculous attraction to impossible men. It only made me want him more. I was so screwed.

  “Where were you anyway?” I tried to focus on something other than Julian’s smooth motions, or the heat of his body permeating my personal space. The only thing distracting enough was the puddle of blood where Carl had been laying. I could still smell it in the air, like budding apple trees.

  It brought me back to reality, and I looked down to see that my hands were still covered with the sticky, cooling fluid. I could taste Carl, in my mouth, and his essence resonated in some deeper, darker place. I shivered. “I could have killed him, Julian. God. What am I?”

  Julian gazed down at my hands, and when his eyes met mine again, they weren’t full of the horror I deserved, or even the sympathy I expected.

  They were full of heat.

  Blood and sex. The two were inescapably linked for us. If I hadn’t comprehended it before, there was no denying it in that moment. I saw the dark place inside of me that I wished I could ignore reflected in Julian’s hungry face. Seeing that desire light up those rich, dark eyes, I couldn’t refuse it. I wanted him too much. I could have killed Carl, true. But up until the moment the voices had come, I had delighted in every swallow, and so had he.

  The warmth of the rag slid away. Julian’s fingers encircled my wrist. Without breaking our momentary connection, he lifted my hand and pressed it against his lips. If I’d been standing, my knees would have gone weak. A smudge of Carl’s blood was left on Julian’s mouth, crimson rose petals. His tongue swept across the stain, and I shuddered at the intensity of what faced me.

  Terrifying. Beautiful. Dangerous.

  Julian.

  How could I not want him? He was everything I’d ever wanted in a man, only he was so much more than just a man. He lifted my hand and ran his tongue the length of my palm, never breaking our eye contact.

  My mouth opened, but no words came out.

  He closed his eyes and sucked the guilt from my fingers, one by one. I forgot to breathe, tangled in the web of lust Julian spun around me. With no heartbeat, it felt like the moment could suspend forever, and I wished it would.

  He lowered my hand and opened his eyes. He didn’t speak a word. Didn’t have to. The want in his face pulled me forward, irrefutable — like magnets.

  I climbed to my knees and wrapped one arm around his neck, pressing my breasts against his naked chest. His arm snaked around my waist and locked us together. I rubbed my other hand over his wide, full lips, smearing them with red, and then spiked my clean fingers through his silky hair and yanked his head forward. My tongue swept out and licked him.

  A low growl rumbled in Julian’s throat. He mashed us together, his tongue invading my mouth. The mixture of Carl’s blood and the sharp flavor of Julian met and fused inside of me. I felt as if I’d pounded back three Pit Vipers.

  “Julian.” I gulped and leaned away. It would be so easy to lose myself in the feeling, in Julian, but I was still afraid. He didn’t know about the voices. I was even more afraid of telling him, because I knew he would stop.

  And he might never start again.

  “Don’t be afraid, Alex,” he answered in his low, honeyed voice. He stared down between us, his gaze stroking the front of my body with palpable heat. The back of my skull burst into a tingle that left a cold sweat trailing down my neck. Julian’s fingers traced over my shoulder, my collarbone, and down the slope of my breast to the nipple that ached for his touch.

  I gasped.

  “You asked me what you are. This is what we are, what we’re meant to be. Let me show you.” His voice was tight and careful, but my eyes were fixed on his mouth, on the pearly white fangs that winked at me from behind his human teeth, giving his words a slight lisp. The truth of those words pierced me to the core. Our bodies, our instincts, our blood, and something more basal, called to one another’s.

  “But I’m not like you,” I said, before the courage left me.

  “You are.” He ran his fingers lightly over the scar on my neck. His eyes were glazed and dark with promise. I could almost see my reflection in them.

  “I wish I was.” I twisted away. I didn’t want to see the hurt or anger in his eyes when he realized what I meant.

  “I don’t care about that.” He took my face in his hands and turned me back to him.

  I looked up to see his familiar disarming tenderness. He leaned in to kiss me again. I wedged my next words between us. “You don’t care that the voices in my head made me lose control and almost kill Carl?”

  Julian froze, blinked, and slowly pulled away. A frown overshadowed the passion that had lit his face a second before. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

  “Voices?” he repeated, buying time to school his face. His arms loosened their hold around me.

  I cursed my own stupid conscience as I slumped back to the cold, bloody floor. I nodded and pulled his bunched shirt over my head before the awkwardness of our abrupt mood-shift set in.

  “The Grigori?” Julian’s fists clenched. He stood and stooped to pick up the washcloth.

  I studied the floor and nodded.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, his voice rising sharply.

  He threw the rag to splat against the wall by the sink.

  I cringed, then glared up at him. “Why the hell did you leave me here alone?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I went to get supplies and check into some things.”

  “Things?” I scoffed, and stood up. I went to the basin and washed the rest of Carl’s blood from my hands. It was so not a turn-on anymore. I yanked a towel off the nearby rack and whirled back on Julian. “You still don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust part of you.” His jaw flexed. It cast the crescent scar on his cheek into relief. With the rest of his battle wounds bared, and the spark of lust gone from his eyes, he didn’t look sexy anymore. He looked fierce. Lover to enforcer in two seconds flat — that was impressive.

  “I thought you didn’t care about that.”

  He winced and glanced away from me. “I don’t. But I didn’t think drinking would trigger your psychic powers. You were fine with the bottled blood. You should have told me right away. We’re here on Monique’s goodwill. I will not put her or her charges in danger. Not for you, or for anyone. If the Grigori hones in on you here…”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I hadn’t thought about what our —my— presence here meant to the others, aside from Carl, whom I’d almost killed. Julian had a point. “You already have, haven’t you? Just by bringing me here. Like she said.”

  “We have to tell her what happened,” Julian replied in a clipped tone. He didn’t wait for me before swinging the door open and marching out into the hall. I scrambled after him.

  If my first meeting with Monique had been less than ideal, I really wasn’t looking forward to telling her that she’d been compromised by harboring me. Julian didn’t t
rust a part of me. As much as the idea hurt, that was fine. I wasn’t sure I trusted either part anymore.

  I owed Monique the truth, even if it meant my welcome had worn itself out. What would that mean for Julian and me? First things first. At least I’d washed the blood off my hands.

  I caught up to Julian halfway down the long hall and stayed at his back, quietly wondering how much time he spent here. He seemed to know his way around, and the two people I’d met knew him too. Had I just ruined yet another part of Julian’s life? How much more of that would he take? “Aren’t you going to put a shirt on?”

  “You want to give mine back?” He sounded irritated, but not angry. That gave me some hope.

  “Jules, wait.” I snatched his hand on the backswing and planted my feet. He turned around and gazed down at me. Some of the harshness faded from his face. I offered him a half-smile when he didn’t try to pull his hand away.

  “I’m sorry.” It was too difficult to meet his eyes, so I stared at his large, calloused hand instead. “I didn’t want to tell you about the voices because…because I was afraid it would change your mind. About me.”

  He sighed and tilted my chin up. “Alex, it doesn’t matter to me what you are.”

  I frowned. That didn’t sound very convincing.

  “I mean it. It doesn’t. But you can’t keep things from me. Our safety depends on it. I can’t protect you if you’re going to keep secrets that could get us killed.”

  “You keep plenty of secrets.”

  “I know.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “There’s so much to tell you. And I will. I just need some time.”

  I leaned into his hand, wondering if that meant we’d forgiven each other. “So, we’ll tell each other the truth from now on?”

  He nodded and pulled me into a loose hug.

  “Then, can you tell me where you were?”

  “We need to see Monique first.” He took my hand again and started back down the hall.

  “Will you at least tell me how you know her?” I persisted.

  A blotch of color appeared on his cheeks. He licked his lips.

  “Is she your… lover?” I asked the worst possible question because I wanted to know before I got any deeper into whatever was going on between the two of us.

  Julian pursed his lips and glanced sideways at me. I was beginning to recognize it as him trying to read my reaction, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “She was once. Among other things.”

  “Other things?” I raised one eyebrow.

  He squeezed my hand. “She was my lover and donor a long time ago. She remains a friend and ally.”

  “Oh.” Was that supposed to make me feel better? Now I only had more questions. Questions I couldn’t ask, because first I had to go and apologize to Julian’s ex-girlfriend for nearly bleeding one of her rescued runaways to death. That, and possibly bringing a psychic shitstorm down on her little hideaway.

  Day 2 of being an Undead was starting to suck just as bad as Day 1.

  Julian stopped in front of a set of ornate wood doors. He let go of my hand and knocked before pushing one open. The room beyond was open and airy with dark wood floors and taupe walls, and a large circular brown rug. The only decoration was a giant mural painted on one wall, a depiction of the temptation of Eve. Even with as little as I’d seen of Monique, I wasn’t surprised. It was sultry, yet sophisticated, like the impression I’d gotten of the woman herself.

  Monique joined us from another door at the end of the room. She was dressed in a tight-fitting burgundy dress I hadn’t had the sense to notice before. I noticed now. It clung to her tall, curvaceous figure in all the right places as she stalked towards us with unfair grace. Her black hair fell in a curtain of shiny waves over her shoulders, and I reached up to flatten my own unruly locks. I was all of the sudden very conscious of my baggy borrowed jeans and overall plain-Jane look.

  I didn’t need to be, because she wasn’t even looking at me.

  No, her slanted, mis-matched cat-eyes were set on Julian as she crossed the room. I didn’t have to use a single psychic power to glean that whatever had been between them wasn’t over, at least on her end. I cleared my throat, and her gaze locked onto mine. Her crimson lips curled into an artfully polite smile. At the same time, her mind brushed against me, like a tickle of silk. I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Alex. I am Monique.” She bowed her head in formal greeting. Before I could answer, her gaze flicked back to Julian, and her smile widened. “Are you making a fashion statement, or do I need to have the heat turned down?”

  It wasn’t lost on me that she took her fill of the sight of Julian’s naked torso.

  Julian was all business. “There wasn’t time to put something on.”

  She raised an eyebrow at that. “I see. There is something else wrong already?”

  Julian gave me an encouraging nod.

  “I…” Suddenly wasn’t feeling too apologetic. “I’m sorry. About Carl, I mean.”

  “Yes, well, he is quite besotted, but he will make a full recovery.”

  “I’d like to see him.” I spoke up before I had time to process the thought, but it was true. “To say I’m sorry.”

  Monique seemed displeased, but nodded. “Perhaps after he’s had some rest. Is that all?”

  I looked at Julian, whose features were tight with restraint. If I didn’t tell her, he would.

  “When I was…drinking from Carl, the Grigori spoke to me. They might know where I am.”

  “Ah.” Monique crossed her arms, displaying her perfectly manicured nails. I hid my hands behind my back. “Luckily, I was not so cavalier with our safety as Julian.”

  He stiffened, and so did I. Not because of her obvious dig, but because of the way she said his name — accented like it started with a “ge” and so adoring it made my skin itch. I resisted the urge to clench my fists.

  “I took my own precautions.”

  “Precautions?” Julian asked.

  Monique nodded and flashed him a dazzling smile. “Did you think I would take such a risk without insurance? You are dear to me, my love, but not that dear.”

  I wanted to gag on her words, and was surprised at the strength of my reaction, but I swallowed them down instead. “What insurance?”

  Monique’s heels clacked to the corner of the room. On a small shelf in front of her perched a small metallic object that looked like a mini-speaker. I did a quick scan of the room and noticed one in each corner. Monique opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a tiny remote. She smiled as she pushed a button on it. A series of purple beams appeared around us in a crisscross pattern. Julian stiffened next to me. I ducked my head, but the lasers stabilized, and apparently posed no threat.

  Monique hit another button and the beams disappeared. She lifted the palm-sized gadget from the shelf and tossed it through the air. Julian caught it one-handed. I stepped closer as he opened his hand, and saw the device was inlaid with a polished crystal, very à la Superman. I gave Monique a skeptical look, but she just gave me a smug smile.

  “I had them installed in your room as well. They are psychic inhibitors — a special prototype design we have developed. They should provide an adequate shield to keep our location concealed. I did not expect her connection the Grigori to be already so powerful. They should not have been able to reach her here at all, but I suspect they’ve formed an internal connection with her — a loophole I hadn’t considered.”

  I frowned, but Monique proceeded as if I weren’t there.

  “If we had not interfered, they might have broken through the inhibitor field and discovered our position. Then I would be most displeased. As it is now, no real harm has been done. I’m satisfied with their performance.”

  Julian smoothed his finger over the glittering face of the inhibitor, closed his fist around it, and then handed it back to her. “Is there a way to modify one of these to protect Alex directly? Close up the loophole?”

  Monique arched her sculpted black eyebrow and l
ooked from him to me, as if realizing for the first time we were connected.

  Gee — ya think? I straightened a little and met her gaze full on.

  “Perhaps.” She tilted her head. “But it would not be specific. The only way would block her powers entirely.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. It’s not that I planned on using them, but my psychic abilities were the only weapons I had to defend myself. They’d already saved Julian’s life once. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Julian beat me to it.

  “Can it be done?”

  Monique nodded.

  “Hey.” I scowled at Julian. He gave me a stern look, and I matched it. Enforcer, self-appointed guardian, Sponsor, whatever — I was not a child. “I think I should get a say in this.”

  Julian braced my arms and spoke to me in a low voice. “It’s the only way to ensure that they don’t find us. We can’t stay here forever. It will give me some time to work something out without having to worry about you.”

  “I might need my powers.” I hated it, but a child was exactly what I sounded like — one being forced to give up a favorite toy.

  “I can keep you safe,” Julian said, “but you have to trust me, Alex. Do you?”

  I chewed on my lower lip as I contemplated it. Did I trust him? Yes. I looked over his shoulder to see Monique studying us intently, and seeming not too happy about what she saw. That I didn’t trust. But I didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a spoiled, jealous baby. I frowned, and Julian must have misinterpreted it. His face fell.

  “I trust you,” I forced out on a sigh, and hoped it was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  After a little more prodding, it turned out that Monique had already thought of using one of her hokey crystal inhibitors on me. She presented me with another prototype unit: a collar. If I hadn’t already been on thin ice, I would have said hell no. Number one — I didn’t want to be anyone’s guinea pig. Number two — I was already enough of a pariah. I didn’t need to walk around with a collar, like some freak experiment gone wrong.