by Michele Hauf
“Yes. That was Summer, their second child. Vail is proud of his children. They won’t know if the baby is vamp until she reaches puberty.”
“Don’t all children of bloodborn vamps become vampire?”
“Not always. A rare few are completely lacking in blood hunger.”
“Interesting. I had no idea. I’ll have to…”
She squeezed his hand. “You’re making notes in your head, aren’t you, hunter?”
“So I am. I marvel after living so long that I can still learn new things. Let’s detour through the Metro. I don’t want you walking so far in those high heels.”
Fine with her. The heels were high, and she appreciated that he’d noticed. Each slid their Metro cards through the turnstile, and they caught a train heading to her neighborhood. Only one stop. A quick ride. Rook secured a steel pole for the two of them. Verity had to stand close, chest to chest with him to avoid stepping back and stumbling up against the pregnant woman seated behind her.
The hunter’s eyes were blue and speckled with dark, almost appearing freckled. He smiled at her intense curiosity, and she tapped his chin with a finger, tracing the stubble. Tilting up onto her tiptoes, she placed her mouth close to his, but instead of kissing him, she held his gaze.
The innate coolness of him simmered to an eager warmth, as if she rubbed flames against his body. His was an invisible fire that sought her skin with a brush of desire. To kiss him in front of everyone on the train would be too simple and blatant. And it would spoil the tease.
Dashing out her tongue across her lower lip, she then dipped her head and looked aside, unable to control the wide smile as she met an old man’s eyes across the rows of faces. The man nodded to her and winked.
Rook’s hand slid around her waist, and his thumb fit against her spine. Verity closed her eyes and tilted her head against his shoulder, sinking into his burnt peaches and tobacco scent and allowing the train to rock her gently against his hard chest.
As it had felt when she had spotted him from the stage, her soul sighed and relaxed.
She didn’t know Rook well enough to judge whether or not he’d make a good boyfriend. Yet she did feel like a certain emptiness had crept into her heart over the past several decades. She desired a lover, a relationship, and yes, she could even see herself saying vows to another someday in the future. That was why she had allowed herself to stay with her previous lover so long. But she wasn’t going to start shopping for a veil and party favors. This was a new and exciting adventure with a handsome, sensual man.
And it was difficult to erase her mother’s voice from her brain. But she did have Freesia’s suggestion to push her toward at least trying to allow the man into her circle of trust. She wanted to.
But did she need to?
Once off the train, they emerged beneath a streetlight amid a spill of passengers that flowed out to all directions of the compass under the velvet night sky. Verity tugged Rook along toward her home, a five-minute walk from the station. She felt light and not at all worried that the moon was waxing gibbous. Swinging his hand in hers and skipping down the street, she raced him toward something she’d never known—a blissful surrender.
Once inside the purple wrought iron gate, Rook swept Verity into his arms and twirled her on the cobbled walk. Her heels clipped some of the tall growing herbs, releasing rosemary and thyme into the air.
“Just felt like doing that,” he said, setting her down on the steps. The surprise on his face was genuine. “Must be something in the air tonight.”
Indeed, something like lust and romance and all that sparkly, frilly stuff that made Verity’s insides giggle and stretch and then coil in anticipation.
“Maybe it’s all the flowers.” The knight in black duster coat looked around the front yard.
“It does smell gorgeous, doesn’t it? Like an exotic elixir designed to intoxicate. But you look out of place.”
He spread out his arms and his coat opened to reveal a flash of deadly stakes. “The coat does come off.”
“That’s a start,” she said and turned as she skipped up the steps to hide her irrepressible grin.
She opened the door, pushed it inside and turned to find Rook, sans coat, swing in from the threshold and plant a kiss on the underside of her jaw. He nuzzled his nose along her skin, drawing it up and landing on her mouth with another kiss.
“Your performance was incredible,” he said between kisses.
“You’ve never been to a Demon Arts performance before?”
“Not much time for shows of any sort. Usually busy with work.”
“You’re very disciplined.”
“Something you can understand, yes?” He kissed her eyelid. “The work you do with fire is amazing. And yet…”
His sigh and sudden letdown of his body against hers prompted Verity to wonder what was wrong. “Rook?”
“Sorry. Some weird stuff came up watching your fire magic. Memories.”
“You knew a fire witch before?”
“No, not like that. Uh, well, now that I’ve said it, you should know. I’ve witnessed a witch being burned at the stake. So to see a witch in the vicinity of fire doesn’t sit well with me. Makes me nervous.” He inhaled, then exhaled heavily. “And with that confession, let’s move beyond the uncomfortable topic and taste each other again.”
He had fallen into some bad memories and was desperately trying not to get lost in them. Verity could understand. She’d watched her mother burn at the stake. Now was no time to relive that horror. But she respected fire and the elementals who provided it to her, so she did not fear its harm.
She’d explain it to him some other time. The mood they’d conjured did not welcome such a heavy conversation.
Circling Rook in the open doorway, she pushed one of his shoulders against the foyer wall. Moonlight beamed across the parquet flooring and their legs while their upper bodies remained in shadow.
“I can make you think of better things,” she said. “But it requires your cooperation.” He lifted a curious brow. “Put your hands on me.”
He clasped her hips and squeezed, pressing his fingers to urge her closer. Led forward by his expectant lifted brow, Verity stepped between his splayed legs. A full head taller than her, he shuffled down the wall to a bent-leg stance until their faces were level. She lashed her tongue across his lower lip. The man moaned appreciatively.
Burying her nose into his soft hair felt like the finest luxury. She could get lost in this man. “You smell like burnt peaches and tobacco smoke. Makes me hungry for you.”
“You smell like—”
“Don’t even try to guess. I still have traces of the flame retardant on my skin. It’s homemade and completely natural. It’s not too awful, is it?”
“It’s spicy. Smells like cloves and…”
“Lemon thyme.”
“I like it. Flame retardant, eh? Does that mean I’m safe from getting burned by you?”
“Do you want to be safe?”
His grin turned wicked. “Never.”
He tilted her hips against his loins and trailed kisses from her mouth and downward. As she lifted her chin, he traveled down her throat with soft, tender touches and scintillating licks. Tenderly, he slayed her inhibitions. Sliding her leg up along his hip, she hugged his abdomen with hers, delighting in the rigid muscles that spoke of strength and discipline.
Pushing her fingers through his hair, she gripped it tightly and kissed him deeply. Getting lost in him was a perfect way to end the night. Bodies melding, tongue dancing, heartbeats drumming a wanting thunder. She needed this man. She needed the intimate connection.
Just once or twice. Or maybe even three times. And then, never again.
“Uh, Verity?”
“What?”
“A cat is watching
us.”
Without glancing toward the threshold, she pulled his head back down to make sure his kisses at the base of her neck did not stop. “That’s just Thomas. You know where the food is, Thomas.”
“Me-OW!”
“Was that a snarky meow?” Distracted, Rook leaned back and eyed the calico feline that traipsed down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Thomas has an attitude.” And she hated cats who interrupted intense make-out sessions.
“He yours?”
Seriously? He wanted to chat about the cat instead of kiss her? “That alley cat belongs to no one yet claims every female he encounters. He’s a Casanova, but he’ll never get more than a few kitty treats and food from me. Enough about the cat.”
She kissed him, silencing further pointless questions.
Mouths touching and opening against one another, they dashed tongues in intimate swordplay. He plunged in deep, tasting her. Making her forget about snoopy cats. All that mattered was the two of them, crushed up against one another, giving and taking as much as they could offer.
And what he offered was dark and delicious. Mysteriously enticing. Verity didn’t want to learn all his secrets—only the ones he wanted her to know. It was a fair trade for the secrets she was willing to share.
Of course, she didn’t have any secrets. So there was that.
Ten minutes later, the cat strolled around Verity and Rook’s entwined legs. He meowed again, following with a purring flutter of cat sounds.
Rook paused from their kiss and followed the feline’s exit across the threshold, where the cat made a leap over his abandoned Order coat. “Now that was definitely cat laughter.”
“I think you’re right.” She closed the door behind Thomas and buried herself in Rook’s embrace. “You know any familiars in your line of work?”
“Cat’s a familiar? Uh, no. I stick mostly to vampires.”
“Speaking of vampires, did you and Vail have an interesting discussion?”
“Interesting is the exact word for it. He cares about you and made it clear he will protect you at any cost. You know…it’s some kind of crazy that I found you,” he said, stroking the hair from her face.
“What do you mean?” She wanted to kiss, not talk.
“I was stalking Frederick Slater that night we first met. Yet who would have thought I’d run into the one person on this planet who had my soul?”
“Slater?” She stepped back from the embrace, absently touching her kiss-plumped lips. “You were after Freddie Slater? I thought you were out hunting.”
“You call him Freddie?” She saw the mental note-taking flash in his blue irises. “Do you know him, Verity?”
“I, uh…he’s with Zmaj, right?”
“Yes, their leader. He’s our most-wanted vamp right now. I mentioned the tribe to you. You didn’t tie that in with Slater?”
“That is a strange coincidence.”
Verity stepped back until her shoulders hit the wall opposite where Rook leaned. Her body slumped and she looked aside at the moonlight glinting in the glass on the front door.
That she could be so connected to this man through another was remarkable. And that so many coincidences had occurred was not haphazard—or coincidence. Nothing in life was coincidence. She believed that with all her heart. Everything happened for a reason. Like finding a man’s buried soul. And getting bitten by a vampire who worked for the very vampire she had dumped months earlier.
“How do you know Slater, Verity?” He stood up from leaning against the wall, losing the sensual looseness that her body so desperately craved and assuming a stern demeanor. The hunter emerged, serious and ready for action. “Do you have information that could lead me to him? If so, it would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to track him through the nameless vamp who bit you.”
“Slater, uh…we dated for a while. Not long. Well, longer than I usually allow…”
The man’s brows dove together, and his jaw pulsed. He didn’t like that statement. But she wasn’t as offended by vampires as most hunters would be.
“Vail mentioned as much,” he said.
“He—you already knew? So why this angle of questioning?”
“I wanted to see if you would admit to it.”
Pissed that he would use such tactics on her, Verity slapped her arms across her chest. He was definitely all hunter now. And he had no right to the details from any of her former romances.
However, his investigation had become inexplicably entangled in her life. And she had no right to conceal information that could aid his work.
With a sigh, she confessed. “It didn’t work out. I generally only date guys three times, though we did stretch it a bit further. I realized he was grooming me to steal my magic, so I broke it off with him. He’s an asshole, though, and I expected retaliation. He stalked me for a few months, but I’d thought I’d lost him when I moved a few months ago.”
“You had to move to get away from him?”
She winced and said softly, “Yes.”
Rook fisted the wall beside her head. “That vampire is one of the most dangerous in the city right now. You should have told me you knew him!”
Setting back her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “My dating history is no concern to you.”
“Verity.” He huffed.
“I’m sorry!” Her confident posture softened. “I hadn’t a clue it was important to you. I thought you were after the one who bit me.”
“I told you I was investigating the whole tribe. Hell, Verity, do you think Slater sent those vamps after you?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible. But they weren’t following me that night. I was walking home and turned a corner, and there they were.”
“Doesn’t mean they didn’t plan it to go down that way. Damn it!” He shoved a hand over his head, rubbing at the back of his neck as he paced before her. “Did Slater ever bite you?”
“No! Never. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He smirked. Nodded once. “Just wanted to know if you were a fang junkie.”
“A fang—how dare you?”
He put up a hand to stop an angry protest. Really? Talk to the hand?
Verity marched down the hallway, away from him. “Get out!”
“Verity, don’t be angry. I—hell, I slipped into hunter mode. It’s what I am more often than just a man or friend or even lover. I needed to know if you had been hurt by him—or bitten.”
“Yes, well, I have been bitten, no thanks to you!” She turned on him, stopping him in his tracks only a few feet from her. “If you would have done your job the other night, this would have never happened!”
She slapped her neck but then realized the angry reaction was not like her. She did not rage at others for her own misfortunes. And she could handle this by herself, thank you very much. And she had. The spell to stop the vampire taint had worked. End of story.
“I think you should leave now,” she said, trying to keep the anger from her voice but failing. “There’s nothing more to say. I don’t know where you can find Slater.”
“You must know where he lives if you dated.” He scratched his head. “Only three times?”
That tidbit had just flown out. She shouldn’t have told him that.
“I’m not in the mood for an interrogation, Rook.”
“Please, I…I’m sorry. You’re right. This was supposed to be romance and kisses, and now…” He blew out a breath and again raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.
He was doing his job, Verity reminded herself. And if he didn’t investigate all the angles, he’d never get his man or the tribe.
Hell, she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to resume the romance and kisses, and…was it too late to try for the sensual mood that had ignit
ed sparks between them?
Maybe if she gave him something, anything, to appease the hunter, he could set work aside for the rest of the night.
“The last time I saw him, he lived on a barge,” she offered.
“On the Seine?”
She nodded. “But he’d put it up for sale right after the breakup. I’m sure it’s sold. You could check, though. Maybe trace the sale if he’s no longer there. He lived southwest, past the sixteenth.”
“Thank you. That could help my investigation.”
He stroked her hair, which was wavy from the braids she’d taken out after the show. She wanted the intimacy right now. Yet she did not. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. Trust? He’d muddled any burgeoning feelings of trust she’d felt toward him tonight.
“I’ll go,” he said, “but I don’t want to leave you angry, Verity. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I want to keep you safe.”
“I am safe. I have wards against vampires on this home. Werewolves also. Perhaps I should put up a ward against demons?”
Rook heaved out a sigh. “Fine. I guess I was wrong about you. I should get back out there on the hunt. Wasted enough time already on…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but she filled in the last part herself. He’d wasted his time on her. Because he’d been wrong about her?
Turning away from him, Verity listened to his boots tromp the floor toward the door. It opened and closed. And she raced up the stairs to the bedroom where she grabbed her great-grandmother’s quilt, wrapped it around her shoulders and pressed a palm to the window to watch the hunter’s retreat into the night. The quilt hugged her, but she took no comfort in the memory of the women who had come before her tonight.
She was alone in this world. And she didn’t want to be alone anymore.
* * *
The argument with Verity had served to clear his brain. What the hell had he been thinking to get involved with her when right now he needed to focus on tracking Slater and taking out the longtooth? There was no room for error, no time for extracurricular activities. An Order knight must give all to the cause.
Live to serve. Serve until death. Die fighting.
