by Debra Dunbar
He whispered against Jonathan’s lips, bringing the man in check. “Cut it out, baby. You’re about to get us killed.” Jonathan went still in his arms. Taking advantage, Cin kissed the man for real, stealing what he could before drawing him away from the bridge. He could feel their company, attempting to skim their minds. Cin masked their thoughts, pushing out blatantly sexual images until they reached Cin’s car. He opened the passenger side door. Jonathan refused to budge. He eyed the inside of the car before staring Cin down with defiant eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“If you stay here, you’re dead.”
The man’s chin took on a stubborn tilt. “Or I’ll have my story.”
Cin’s temper snapped. He crowded Jonathan’s body, forcing him against the open doorway and leaving him two choices—let Cin go flush against his skin or get in the goddamn car. Jonathan stood his ground. Their bodies touched, and—for the first time ever—Cin worried he’d be the one who backed down. “You’re interfering with an official investigation. My investigation. You have till the count of five to get your sexy ass in the goddamn car or I will make you.”
Jonathan’s features shifted. Curiosity etched his every line. “I spoke with the detective in charge of the disappearance of the women in this area this morning. It wasn’t you.”
“I never said what I was investigating. Only that you were interfering. Get in the car, Jonathan. One. Two.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Three.”
“If you’re in law enforcement, why did you drug me? That’s illegal for everyone, I’m sure.”
“Four.”
“Unless you’re some form of anti-terrorism team. They usually have hazier rules.”
“Five,” Cin said, reaching his limit. His mouth collided with Jonathan’s hard enough he tasted blood. His fangs grew in response. He didn’t care nor did he try hiding them as he deepened their kiss. Jonathan’s lust was almost tangible. Thick enough Cin could taste it. By the time he pulled away, Jonathan’s gaze was unfocused. His vision cleared and Cin knew. The man remembered—everything. Not just the past three weeks but the past six years.
“Get in the car.” His demand took on a slight lisp with his fangs at full glory. Jonathan’s gaze dropped to Cin’s mouth. Cin didn’t try hiding his true nature. Judging by Jonathan’s shock, he was seeing it all. His hardened features. The slight glow to Cin’s irises. The fucking lust dripping from his pores, because Cin had never coveted anyone or anything like he did this reckless man who stood against him now.
“We had a fucking deal, Jonathan,” Cin added, because he couldn’t stop. “You get the stories. I get to have your body and know you’re safe. We had a fucking deal,” he repeated because his temper was headed south by the second.
Cin wasn’t sure if Jonathan gave in or the man’s knees gave out. Either way, he sat. Cin closed the door behind him before circling the car and slipping behind the wheel. They were nowhere near finished with this conversation, but they needed to have it elsewhere. He seethed as he tried ripping the gears out of his Audi R8 while taking the corners too sharp.
Jonathan didn’t make a sound. Of course, it was always this way for the first few minutes of him getting his memories back. Six years ago, he’d met Jonathan in Kirkcaldy while they’d both been handling their version of an investigation. Seven people had been massacred inside a church. Not just killed, but ripped to shreds. Jonathan had been looking for a story. Cin—werewolves. As part of the Hellish Clan, it was his team’s job—along with many others—to deal with supernatural crime, punishing the beings involved while reshaping the story in human minds. At the time, he’d seen Jonathan as a means to an end. His position at Global Daily was perfect for helping them spread the story they wanted the world to have. Cin hadn’t meant to fall in love with Jonathan, but he had—hard.
“Why do you keep refreshing the memory of Mike, making it seem as if we broke up weeks ago instead of years?”
A low chuckle escaped Cin. Jonathan always knew just what to say to cool his temper. “I don’t want you to forget to hate that little rat bastard. You’re mine.” He cast a quick glance Jonathan’s way as he made the claim. Cin wanted Jonathan to recognize how serious he was. He’d kill that fucker, Mike, if he ever tried touching his man. Cin downshifted, deciding he needed to slow down. It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault he was becoming more and more resistant to Cin’s memory scrub. Every time, Jonathan seemed to hold on to a little more control.
“Pull over.”
Cin glanced over again. Jonathan’s hands were balled into fists in his lap and his eyes were locked on the road. “We’re almost there.”
“I don’t give a good goddamn. Pull the fuck over, now.”
He tried to read Jonathan’s mind. It was a complete black spot. Shit. That couldn’t be good. Cin pulled over. The moment the car came to a stop, Jonathan shot from the car and started walking back toward town. Cin jumped out behind him. “What are you doing?”
“Going to get my story so I can go home.”
“Fuck, Jonathan,” Cin cursed as he raced forward and snagged the man’s arm, pulling him to a stop. “I was being serious earlier. You have no idea what you’re up against. I can’t let you get hurt.” Against his will, Cin’s jaw hardened as he added, “Nor can I let you print the real story.”
Jonathan spun. His eyes. Goddamn. Cin’s feet froze to the ground. What he saw in Jonathan’s eyes—it looked a lot like hate. “Why do you care if I get hurt? If I’m dead, then you can get off this ride. You can move on with your life. If I’m dead, I can stop losing pieces of me to someone who doesn’t really want me.”
There was an invisible weight sitting on Cin’s chest, suffocating him. “I want you.” Even to Cin’s ears, his voice sounded tight.
Jonathan took a step forward, making Cin wonder if the man would throw a punch. Instead, he went nose to nose with Cin. “No. You don’t. I’m nothing more than a plaything to you. I fucking begged you not to send me away this time. Begged,” Jonathan repeated. “Set my pride aside, willing to give up everything, just to be with you. You do not want me. Did you even think about what would happen when I got home and didn’t have a story—when the people I work with wanted what I’m being paid to do? Did you consider they might think I’m crazy or I would think I’m going insane? Or even worse, did you intentionally leave in bits and pieces of you, so I’d wonder if I’d been slipped a date rape drug or something? Tell me again how you care, Cin. I fucking dare you.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing any longer when it comes to you,” Cin heard himself admit. “I panic when you’re involved. Your safety is all that matters.”
Jonathan snorted and walked away again, obviously intent on getting as far away from Cin as possible.
“Jonathan.” Cin said the man’s name softly, putting his heart into it. Jonathan froze but didn’t turn. “I love you.” Jonathan’s shoulders fell. “I know you love me too.” Jonathan tilted his head back and stared at the sky, as if seeking help from a higher power, but he still didn’t turn. “Come back with me. See the boys and let us fill you in. If you still want to go, then I don’t know.”
“At least you didn’t lie and say you’d let me go,” Jonathan said over his shoulder. He took another step away, as if he still intended to leave Cin behind.
“Faolan is wearing your boots,” Cin said, playing his last card and shamelessly throwing his friend under the bus. Jonathan hated that Faolan stole his things when they were apart. Damn. It seemed as if they were apart more than they were together.
Jonathan headed for the car without looking Cin’s way. It was obvious he wasn’t giving an inch. Still, Cin breathed an inner sigh of relief. He could deal with anything as long as Jonathan didn’t leave him.
Load up. We’re five minutes out and Jonathan’s found something.
Aye, we’re on it.
Cin knew there was no need to specif
y. His team would be ready to go the second he arrived. Fuck. It seemed things were either all or nothing in his life. He needed to chase down this lead. At the same time, if he left, Jonathan might be out the door right behind him.
Faolan, I need you to stay behind with Jonathan. He’s a runner today.
Sure thing.
Now all he had to do was survive a fight with some demons long enough for Jonathan to kill him later.
Chapter 3
Enraged wasn’t a strong enough word for the storm of Jonathan’s emotions. In fact, he no longer knew why he was so goddamn pissed off, but he was. He was the one who kept letting Cin do this to him. There was nothing stopping Jonathan from walking away right now, going back to New York with his memories intact, and never seeing Cin again. Yep, there was nothing stopping him at all, except everything inside Jonathan. He loved Cin—loved his clan.
The moment Cin had kissed him, six years came rushing back all at once. They were together more often than not, thanks to Global Daily. Jonathan always seemed to find his way to wherever Cin had his next big investigation going on. It was as if they were linked in some invisible way. When they’d met in Kirkcaldy, Mike had been more than happy to fund a month of Jonathan’s trip. They just broken up, and with Jonathan safely tucked away in Scotland, no one blinked an eye when Mike moved his new man in—the one he’d been sleeping with behind Jonathan’s back for almost a year.
Little did Mike know, Jonathan was fine. He’d gone to Scotland and met the love his life. It just fucking figured when that day came, he’d fallen in love with a vampire. That had come as a bit of a shock. Not that it mattered, since every time Cin left for another investigation, Jonathan was always the first thing the man washed away as if Jonathan meant nothing at all.
A large brick house came into view. It looked exactly like something out of a gothic novel. Vampires did seem to have a sick sense of humor. Cin pulled into the four-car garage and parked. He didn’t say anything or look Jonathan’s way. For real, the man was pissed off. Jonathan could feel the rage pulsing from his body. Cin jumped from the car before circling around and opening Jonathan’s door. One good thing about dating someone over six hundred years old—the dude had awesome manners.
Jonathan moved toward the house. Cin blocked his way, leaving Jonathan no other choice but to meet his stare. The light blue eyes he loved glowed with fury as they focused on Jonathan. It seemed the man had been stewing and reverted to being the alpha on the drive. No trace of his earlier contriteness made an appearance.
“When I tell you to get in the car, like I did back there, you do it. You don’t know what you’re up against here, and yet you still did what you pleased. If you ever disobey me like that again—when your life is on the line—I will turn you over my knee and tan your arse.”
Jonathan’s knees weakened. He’d love that.
Cin visibly sucked in a deep breath. “Stop that.”
“What?” Jonathan asked, trying to keep his tone innocent.
“You know what, you delicious freak.”
Jonathan hid his smile as Cin led him inside. He knew how to make Cin be quiet. His grin slipped away the moment they cleared the door. The men were packing and ready to roll. All except for Faolan. The lone ginger in the group sat relaxed on the couch, as if it was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The asshat was indeed wearing Jonathan’s boots. He looked up and smiled as Jonathan came through the door.
“Hey! It’s that Jon boy.”
The man was so full of shit, but at least he was smiling. Dougal, or the blond beauty of the bunch—as Jonathan had come to know him—was eyeing Jonathan as if expecting him to explode at any moment. He wasn’t wrong. Jonathan might lose his shit. Niall was shifting from foot to foot and looking ready to crawl out of his skin. That wasn’t new. The man was darker than the rest—like he’d seen some horrible shit and hadn’t come out the other side. Both Dougal and Niall were loaded down, as if ready to go to war. With every nervous shift from Niall, the light caught the blade strapped to his waist and glimmered. The man also had a gun Velcroed to his leg, but from what Jonathan had heard, Niall preferred his knife. He was vicious. Loved getting up-close and personal.
“We have to go before we lose their trail,” Niall said, practically growling each word. Jonathan wasn’t surprised Cin was leaving. Cin was always leaving. He knew what Cin did was bigger than him—bigger than them. His heart didn’t care. At the moment, everything hurt. He didn’t bother glancing Cin’s way. Jonathan wouldn’t stand in his way. Instead, he headed for the couch, taking up post next to Faolan. He’d wait. After all, Jonathan had no intention of going anywhere.
Come back to me. Jonathan put the thought out there, hoping Cin heard.
Cin focused on him. “I always do.”
Jonathan stared at the door for much longer than he liked after Cin left. He might have done so for the rest of the day if not for Faolan.
“Are you all right?” Faolan asked softly, pulling Jonathan’s focus his way. His amethyst eyes glowed for a moment before returning to a more humanlike color.
“I’m fine.”
Faolan shook his head. “No. You’re not.”
A growl rose in Jonathan’s throat. “Stay out of my head.”
The low chuckle escaping Faolan had Jonathan wanting to put his fist in the center of the man’s face. “I’m not in your head. Just digging for info you willingly handed over.”
“You’re wearing my goddamn boots,” Jonathan said, changing the subject in hopes of clinging to his sanity.
The man’s contagious smile made it hard for Jonathan to put any real heat behind his accusation. “You’re part of the Hellish Clan now.” His gaze slipped down Jonathan’s body, and his voice turned seductive. “We share everything.”
Jonathan drew a slow breath through his nose and kept his mind carefully blank. Fucking vampires. They knew how to drip sex and make anyone want it. Hell would freeze before Jonathan gave any of them the satisfaction. He chose a different track instead. “Obviously, I’m not part of the clan if you keep sending me away.”
Faolan grabbed his chest in mock hurt. “I never did any such thing. If it was up to me, you’d never go anywhere. You’re quite the hoot when you’re nae being all stingy with your shoes and such.”
Before Jonathan could respond, Cin came back through the door. “We missed them. Niall stayed behind to keep watch. It’s obvious they’ve been using that port for a while.”
“Your man is quite the catch,” Dougal said, coming in behind Cin. “If he hadn’t shown up, we’d still be spinning our wheels.”
Jonathan flashed the man a grateful smile. No doubt it would be the only credit he got. “What about the women?”
Cin shook his head. “Baby, those women are long dead. Demons aren’t known for keeping their victims. They use their bodies for pleasure and what blood they can get to appease their masters. The rest probably went to the sharks.”
Jonathan waved away Cin’s words. “Not the missing women. There were two women with them, following them from the van to the boat. It was a bit odd, actually. They followed them step by step, almost as if tied by an invisible tether. Look,” he said, pulling out his cell phone and cueing up the video he’d captured earlier. They huddled around Jonathan’s phone, watching the scene play out. As Jonathan stared down at the device in his hands, his confusion grew. There were no women. “I don’t understand. They were there.” He pointed out the two men who the women had been following.
At his claim, all three of the men focused on him at once. Jonathan’s hand shot to his head as a sharp pain pierced his skull. He tried slamming down a wall. As quickly as it began, the pain stopped.
Dougal shook his head. “Damn, Cin. Your fella is a Traveler. No wonder you can’t keep a glamour on him.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, still rubbing his forehead. “What does my time spent traveling have to do with anything? And stay the fuck out of my head.�
� All the men continued eyeing him in awe and open interest, as if seeing him for the first time.
Dougal shook his head. “Not a world traveler. A Traveler with a capital T.”
Jonathan dropped his hand. “I’m not hearing a difference.”
“You can see things,” Faolan said, as if it should’ve been obvious. “Like those women’s ghosts following their killers on the dock, which happens quite often, by the way, especially with women. They’re strong willed and refuse to leave their murderers until someone avenges them. Anyhow, this means I’m right and you were wrong. Ha! You are part of the clan.” Jonathan might have been drawn into Faolan’s foolishness if not for the way Cin was staring at him. “I hope you know this means I get to keep the boots,” Faolan added, as if anyone was still listening.
Cin shoved Jonathan’s phone into Faolan’s hands. “Here. Look after this.” Without waiting to ensure the man complied, Cin snagged Jonathan’s elbow and led him away. “We have some things to discuss.”
Jonathan let Cin lead him up a flight of stairs and into a large bedroom. It smelled like Cin. Longing washed over Jonathan. Maybe Cin was right to steal the memory of him. This horrible deep pit of need would’ve been haunting him every second they were apart if Cin didn’t take it from him. Cin’s fingers skimmed Jonathan’s spine. His eyes fell closed at the contact. Who was he kidding? Each time he lost his recollections of their time together, a little piece of him died. He was one of those stupid men everyone talked about. Too weak to walk away from someone who destroyed him.
“Jonathan.”
Goddamn it. The way Cin said his name—no doubt the man read his every thought.
“If you’re about to say anything to me about returning to New York, then save it. I’m telling you now, if you wipe my memories one more time, you’d better make that shit permanent, because I don’t want to ever see your face again.” Jonathan didn’t turn as he made the threat. He couldn’t look at Cin and say those words without breaking, but he meant them. The confusion he’d experienced inside the airport had been the final straw. No one could say they loved him and make him feel that way.
