by Aliya DalRae
“Where were you between 2:00 and 4:00?”
“I was on patrol with Tas.” Raven’s mouth was dry, and the room seemed to be on a slant. “Tas? Tell him!”
“I lost contact with Raven for roughly two hours. The time in question.”
Raven was stunned. This betrayal was…
“Mason—you, of all people, know what I’ve been through, what I’ve done to put the past behind me.”
“Relax, Raven. I’m not saying I believe you slaughtered that girl.”
He wasn’t saying he didn’t believe it either.
“It does look bad, though. Tas says you weren’t yourself tonight. That you wouldn’t, or couldn’t, account for your whereabouts when you were out of contact.”
“He was overreacting.” Raven’s voice was a barely whispered growl, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. “I went in to Good Times, looked around for a minute, but the place was giving me a headache, so I left. I went back to find Tas for the meet-up and he wasn’t there.” His voice trailed off.
“We met up around 4:15 at Buzz’s north of town, where you handed me my ass,” Tas said, “and promptly left me to hitch a ride back to my vehicle. Did you go straight to Jessica’s when you left me?”
“Yeah. I sat in her drive for a minute before going inside, but she’s been with me ever since.” Raven rubbed his temples, the headache slamming back full force as he tried to recall exactly where he had been prior to meeting up with Tas at the Shifter bar.
Nothing.
Had he really lost two hours? Raven turned his hands palms up on the table and stared at them, seeing Jessica’s slender wrist clenched in his fist, nigh on breaking. Could he have done this horrible thing, and not remember?
“Is she okay?” Mason asked, now the picture of calm, his eyes back to normal, while Raven’s world was turning upside down.
“What the hell, Mason?” Raven leaped to his feet, his fists slamming into the table. “Of course she’s okay. I left her in my rooms, and she was…fine.”
But she wasn’t, was she?
Raven drug a shaky palm through his hair, barely noticing that Harrier had left the room. Unable to sit still, he stood and paced the room again, understanding crashing down on him. Deny it all she wanted, but Jessica did have a vision, and the horrors spelled out in the eight by ten glossies spread across the table? She’d seen this, seen the murder.
She should be terrified of him.
Chapter Ten
A fter Raven’s dramatic departure, I couldn’t calm myself. My Vampire was not himself, and I couldn’t shake the cold chills our last encounter evoked.
There was no way I could sit in this room and wait for Mason to summon me, not with Raven’s things and the musky perfume that was his scent all around me. Not after how he’d left me. So I did what I always do when I’m feeling overwhelmed in Vampireland.
I went to the Club.
The Club was a swanky name for a fancy gym, built deep in the Legion’s Big House, as I referred to the primary building on the Compound. It was exclusively for the ranking vamps that lived within those walls. The Soldiers housed in the barracks located on the back of the property had given it its name.
My head was swimming, the look in Raven’s eyes before he turned his back on me making my heart hurt. I needed to clear my mind, and the best way to do that was to spar. Unfortunately, I was alone and the heavy bag wasn’t going to hit back, no matter how much I wanted it to, so I decided to take my frustration out on the treadmill instead.
Half an hour later, my feet drummed steadily on the rubber belt, like a loud, thumping metronome that kept me on pace, on balance. I was well into the bliss of a runner’s high, endorphins crashing through me, melting away the stress of the day. My mind was empty, the argument with Raven pushed way back into some dark recess, and the only awareness I had was of exercise-induced bliss.
Until the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
I sighed, thinking Raven had found me, and that our conversation from before was about to be readdressed. I so didn’t want to burden him with this. He had enough going on without worrying about me and my stupid subconscious.
I cranked the pace up to ten and closed my eyes, pretending I hadn’t heard him come in. When a rough voice said my name, I nearly flew off the treadmill. It was a Vampire alright, but it wasn’t my Vampire.
I hit the stop button, and when the belt came to a halt I turned to face the giant male who stood between me and the exit—history repeating itself.
Harrier was huge, and incredibly frightening. I called him Scarier when I was one hundred fifty percent positive he couldn’t hear me. Like, in a soundproof booth. On Mars. When it was farthest away from the Earth. Okay, I only ever said it in my head, but around the Vampire race, even that could get tricky.
The fact is, the last time he joined me for a workout, I ended up with him on top of me, and not in a good way. If Raven and Tas hadn’t interrupted, there was no doubt in my mind that the guy would have had me for lunch, and I mean that in the literal sense.
So suffice it to say, his presence here was not hitting any of my happy buttons. I reminded myself that he’d since saved both my life and Raven’s, but some memories were hard to quash.
I hadn’t seen him since that night at the gravel pit, and for some reason an image of him standing in the woods with Raven and an African god I’d never seen before entered my mind. Raven was the only one who had clothes on.
Now, where the heck did that come from?
“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” Harrier’s voice shattered the scene from Playgirl in my head, bringing me back to the present, and I noticed he seemed uncomfortable.
Join the club, I thought, distracted.
He drug a massive paw through his russet hair, exposing golden eyes that were darting around the room, looking everywhere but at me. It was an odd look for a man of his stature. Did I mention he was big? Because this was one ginormous male, about the size of a Mack truck. Raven’s got some mass to him, but Harrier towers over him by several inches, and out-breadths him by about ten. To see him off kilter like this had me more curious than was probably healthy.
He turned to go and I let out a lungful of air. But then he hesitated, looked over his shoulder, and I stopped breathing again. As he headed toward me, a knot tightened in my stomach, and I prepared for the worst.
Instead of attacking, though, he climbed on the treadmill next to mine and started it up. It was a full two minutes of him running and me staring before it became apparent he was ignoring me, and I restarted my own machine.
We ran in silence for ten minutes before I relaxed enough for my chatty nature to take over.
“Soooo,” I said. “How’s work?” Harrier looked at me as though I’d grown horns.
“Good,” he said, and cranked up his speed another notch. I cranked mine up as well.
“Good,” I said.” Good is good.” Yeah this was going well, but it gave me a thought. “So, Harrier. Can I, um, ask you a question?” He grunted, which I took to mean, “Sure, go right ahead,” and I plowed on, before I lost my nerve.
“Is, um, is Raven okay, do you think?”
Harrier tripped on the spinning rubber beneath his feet, and slammed a giant fist on the quick stop button. “Seriously,” he said, his gasping for breath less about the running he’d been doing, and more from surprise. “You’re coming to me with romance problems? Do I look like Dr. Phil? Frankly, I don’t give two shits if Loverboy is okay. You want to know about Raven? Ask him yourself.”
Harrier’s words dripped with venom, but it wasn’t unexpected. That was kind of why I’d decided to ask him instead of say, Tas, who would gloss things over just to make me feel better. Harrier was a scary bastard, but I knew for a fact he wouldn’t lie to save my feelings. Case in point.
I stopped my treadmill again, and, leaning my ass against one of the bars, I faced Harrier. When he looked at me it was all I could do to hold his eyes,
let alone keep myself from running, screaming from the room, but I was tired of being afraid of him. Besides, I needed some answers.
“I’m asking you, Harrier. You’re around him when it’s all guys. Is he like he’s always been, or has anything, well, changed since he…since we…” I sighed, trying to find my big girl words. “Since I came into the picture?”
Harrier exhaled a long, exasperated breath as he wiped sweat from his face and neck with a thick white towel he’d extracted from somewhere.
“You’re not gonna let this drop, are you?” I shrugged, and he said, “You’re seriously going to make me talk to you?” I nodded, and it occurred to me that Harrier’s accent had a Scottish lilt that I’d never really noticed before. Then again, we didn’t talk much.
“Fine. If you want to know if he’s still the same raving asshole he was before you met him, then yes. Nothing’s changed.”
“Good. That’s good,” I said again, reaching for my own towel. “So, you don’t think any of his, um, old tendencies have come back? You know, with the curse lifted and all?”
Harrier threw a brief glance my way, but I caught the slightest tug of a smile as he looked away. Or maybe that was a smirk.
“Little miss thrill seeker getting the picture?” His lip curled in a snarl. “Worried now that you may have unleashed the beast? Well you’re not the only one. No one knows what your boyfriend is capable of, now that he has his free will again. Thanks to you, no one is safe anymore.”
“But he’s changed,” I insisted. “You know he’s not like he was before. He doesn’t have the same violent tendencies because when he was cursed he learned to survive without them.”
“But surviving isn’t living, little one,” Harrier said with a sneer. He leaned toward me, his golden eyes almost glowing, and my heart leaped into my throat. “Raven learned those survival techniques because if he gave in to his desires, the curse kicked his ass. It was change or die. Without the curse, though, he has no need to suppress his wants—his needs. Raven is Vampire, Jessica, and even the gentlest among us could rip the lungs from your chest, and be happy doing it. Your lover was never among the gentle.
“One of these days, mark my words, he’s going to snap, and the Rapist will be reborn. Maybe today, maybe fifty years from now, when you’re old and gray and he no longer finds you pleasing. One day it’ll come, and I hope you’re alive to see the evil you’ve unleashed on us all with your…tolerance and love.”
He said the words as though they were unclean, that accent I’d noticed before, thickening, and for a moment I could only watch as he climbed down from his treadmill and headed for the exit.
This was so not what I wanted to hear right now. I really should have gone to Tas for platitudes, but I’d started this with Harrier, and I wasn’t going to let him just walk away.
“So you’re saying that he’s more dangerous than you?” I called after him. Harrier stopped and turned back toward me, nodding once. I made a snarky noise.
“That’s funny, considering you are the only Vampire to ever attack me, to make me afraid. Raven’s done nothing but protect me,” I said, absently rubbing my bruised wrist. “Everyone else I’ve met has been more than kind. Seems to me that you’re the one who could go postal at the drop of a hat.”
I was still standing on the treadmill when he stalked back and stopped right in front of me, raking a hand through his hair again. A myriad of emotions played across his face, and his eyes were shining a stunning gold.
He stood there silent, the muscles in his neck tensing, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His strong jaw was clenched, and when his eyes flashed again, I wondered if I may have pushed our first efforts at conversation too far.
“I can’t explain,” he growled, and I was surprised when, after a moment, his shoulders drooped, and he lowered his eyes with a shake of his head. It was such a drastic change, and I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“The idea of you with Raven—it infuriated me, Jessica. Still does. I needed to show you what you were risking by being with him. Any of us would have been bad, but him? I’d hoped to make you see this is not the place for you. You don’t belong with the likes of him. The likes of us.
“I don’t make apologies, Jessica. It’s not in my DNA, and I know it’s a lot to ask for you to understand, when I don’t understand it myself. However, I would be…grateful…if you could at least accept that I did not intend to hurt you.”
“So why did it take Tas to get you off of me?” I couldn’t help the follow-up question.
Harrier shrugged. “I was motivated.”
“Yeah, well, I was scared,” I said, crossing my arms, “so you’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing you.” I don’t know if I was being brave or stupid, but it felt good to tell him exactly how his little “demonstration” had affected me.
“Think what you want, human.” And just like that, he shut down again, spun on his heel and headed for the exit. Great, I’d pissed him off.
“Harrier?” I said, not sure why I didn’t just let him go. He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Umm…thanks,” I said. “For saving me and Raven? I never…I mean, I just…well, thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said with a lift of one shoulder, before disappearing through the double doors.
Chapter Eleven
R aven was desperate to get to Jessica, but it was clear that this meeting-turned-interrogation would not be ending any time soon. He had yet to mention Jessica’s change in behavior toward him, had no desire to say anything to this group until he was sure.
Of course, Mason was going to want to talk to her about any recent visions she’d had, particularly ones involving Raven. If she were to tell them that she saw him killing this girl? That would be disastrous.
“Tell me again,” Mason was saying.
Raven was seated with his elbows on the table, his hands in his hair as he struggled not to pull it out. “As I’ve said repeatedly,” he growled, “I don’t remember anything. I went into the bar, was there for a couple of minutes, got a headache, and went back to find Tas. When I did find him, he was all over my ass about being late. I told him to fuck off, and packed it in. I didn’t look at a clock, didn’t realize until you called me in that it was as late as it was.”
“Do you recall your state of mind?” Tas asked. Raven answered with a glare, and Tas continued, “I mean, you seemed agitated, angry. Still do, but that’s understandable now. The question is, were you in a pissy mood all night, or did it start later?”
Raven almost snapped at him, but stopped. He had been feeling strange when he stormed out of Buzz’s. His head was pounding and all he wanted was to get home to Jessica. He was on edge, had felt a little foggy, and he’d totally gone off on Tas. When he thought about it, all the guy had asked was where he’d been. Raven was the one who’d ultimately caused the confrontation.
“I don’t know,” Raven said, falling back into his seat. “I’ve been edgy all night.”
“Were you like that before you went into Good Times?” Mason asked, his finger tapping against his temple, as he did when he was thinking.
“I don’t think so, no,” Raven replied.
“Tas?”
“I didn’t pick up on anything unusual with him when he went in. But when we met up at Buzz’s it was like he was primed for a fight and didn’t care who it was with.” He gave Raven an apologetic glance that Raven refused to acknowledge.
“And you didn’t see anyone, sense anything inside the bar?” Mason turned back to Raven, who was watching Merlin tapping on his computer. Was he taking notes?
“I. Don’t. Remember.” Raven repeated, staring at his hands to keep from glaring at his Warlord. With a start he looked up at Mason. “My hands are clean.”
“Raven, I told you. I’m not convinced that this is your handiwork. No one’s accusing—"
“No,” Raven interrupted, leaping to his feet. “My hands are clean! I was clean when I found Tas. No one could do that
,” he pointed at the gory photos still scattered on the table in front of them, “and not be covered in blood. Trust me—I should know. But other than this paper cut, my hands are clean. My clothes are clean.” There it was. The proof he needed.
“Raven, I hate to put a damper on, but you could have cleaned up somewhere,” Tas said.
“Where? And what? Do I keep a change of clothes in the Hummer, in case I decide to go on a killing spree?” They all stared at him. “Oh,” he said, falling back into his chair. They all kept spares on hand for that exact reason. Ferals, Vampires who chose not to follow the civilized law of the Primeval, were always a problem, but it had been getting worse lately. Sometimes things got ugly. And of course there was always the chance they would meet up with a Sorcerer, and those gooey bastards could leave quite the mess. You never knew.
“But we didn’t check that,” Tas said, fanning the spark of hope Raven had ignited. “Merlin, text Perry and have him bring in Raven’s bag from the Hummer.”
This was it, Raven thought. This was going to clear him. When they found his clean clothes in the Hummer, all would be set to right, and they could focus on what was important—who had killed that girl, and why they were trying to frame Raven for the crime.
The War Room door opened, and Raven looked up, expecting to see the Soldier, Peregrine with his bag. Instead, Harrier trudged in dressed in workout gear, gave Raven his usual I-hate-you glare, and planted himself next to Tas without a word to anyone. Mason stared at the male, prompting Harrier to speak.
“So has he confessed yet?”
Mason held Harrier’s gaze, as if trying to gauge whether his returned presence would do more harm than good. He turned his eyes to Raven, giving him the choice.
“Whatever,” Raven said. The friction between him and Harrier had been there since day one, from the moment the larger male discovered he would be reporting to Raven.
As far as Raven knew, he’d never attacked any of Harrier’s people. Of course, it’s not like he kept a list. Personally, Raven had no problem with the male, but Harrier made his hatred for him known at every opportunity. Having him in the room now might not be a great idea, but no matter. All Raven could think about was getting his bag up here and proving to his Warlord that his faith had not been misplaced.
