by Lisa Ladew
Flint and Riot were face to face, shouting, while Bryce backed his brother up of course. Dario pushed at the both of them, trying to separate the two aggressors. Aven seemed like he might back Riot up, but more to be against Flint than for Riot. Ryder and Shiloh stood aways off, leaning against a car, both watching silently.
“There’s no such fucking thing as a vampire,” Riot shouted. “They got you all snowed as shit. That Steward guy is Jameson’s college buddy or something!” But Riot scented differently than his words. He didn’t believe it, not a bit. And judging by the disbelieving smirk he wore, Flint’s brother Bryce knew it. This fight had not a goddamned thing to do with vampires.
Flint went rigid, his hands curling to fist, then he jerked his chin up, showing his scar. “I told you where this fucking scar came from. You calling me a liar, too?”
“If the lie fucking fits,” Riot spat out.
Jameson pushed his way past Dario, right in between the cat and the bear and let his white wolf ripple over his face in a way only another shifter would see, while he snarled at them. “This ain’t fucking middle school, assholes. We work together, or we die. We don’t need a vampire showing up and teaching us that with blood. Now what the fuck is going on.” His white wolf could take all of them, even the bears, even all of them together. That gave him at least a bit of authority, even if he wasn’t officially in charge of anything.
Riot turned and stalked off, and Flint glared at his back. Bryce pushed into the circle and thrust his phone in Jameson’s face. On it was a shadowy picture of a tall but lean male dressed in black, lips pulled back from what looked like fangs, eyes as red as blood. Vampire.
Carick rounded the truck and lifted his head from Jameson’s phone long enough for Jameson to tell him to look at the image of the phone.
Bryce spoke in a rush. “You know the tri-state kidnappings, right? All those young women who have disappeared over the last year from the area?”
Jameson nodded. He knew. Dateline had done an exposé a month ago. That was what had made Jameson look up Greta to take another shot at finding some answers about The Keeper’s Book. Kidnapping women sounded like something vampires would do.
Bryce motioned to his phone. “Another woman disappeared three hours ago. Some student who goes to Shady Pines was wilderness biking with a micro camera strapped to his helmet. He stopped to take a piss in the woods and he heard a woman screaming and fighting. Some guy had her. The student tried to stop him, but the guy knocked him out. When he woke up the woman and guy were gone. He pulled this off his camera and gave it to the police. It’s all over the news.”
Flint jerked his finger at Riot, skulking at the edge of the parking lot, rage coming off him in waves. “Quiet Riot said it was probably some joker wearing fake vampire teeth. I called him a fucking idiot. Shit went down.”
Jameson wanted to cuff Flint on the back of the head, but he restrained himself.
A human couple stared at them as they entered the building. The meeting had started already.
Carick was still staring at the picture. Dario got in his face. “That a real vampire, or what?”
Carick nodded, his voice tight. “Vampires can retract their fangs, but any human or shifter can see them when they are out.” He looked up at Dario. “You, wolf, what do you see?”
Dario snarled, too-long canines pulsing. “The red eyes.”
Bryce snatched the phone away to stare at it. “What red eyes?”
Carick pulled the phone delicately out of Bryce’s meaty hand, holding it up to Flint and Aven, then Ryder and Shiloh, asking all if they saw the red eyes, marking them as they answered.
Flint spared only a glance at the image, long enough to give his answer, then he stared at Riot across the parking lot, pitching his voice low. “J, we’ve got to organize. Those women have been disappearing for over a year and the cops have no idea who’s responsible. That’s beyond fucked up.”
Jameson glanced at Carick, whose eyes had gone darker than ever. He was nodding fiercely at Flint’s words. Exactly what Jameson wanted.
“You’re right,” Jameson said, almost softly. “Who’s in?”
One by one, every shifter there met his eyes and nodded. Even Ryder. Even Shiloh. Then Riot, from the shadows. “If there’s really vampires, they’ll never be friends of mine.”
Satisfaction filled Jameson. “Let’s do this, then. First we check out this meeting, then we spread the word.”
***
They entered the room en masse, a cohesive unit, all looking for the same thing. Even Riot. Jameson stopped short, then looked up at Dario. “Hey, would you be willing to watch the exit?”
The male answered roughly, and the others murmured questioningly. “Why?”
“If a switch shows up, we don’t want her running out before we can talk to her.”
Dario nodded. “Smart.”
Was it? Jameson had already lost one. Twice. He was just working off experience at this point. “Don’t scare her.”
“How will I know she’s a switch?”
“I’ll know.” He addressed Bryce. “Bryce, can you run to my truck and grab some walkies.”
Bryce nodded and ran out the door. Dario pointed to the back of the room. “Have someone watch that one, too. The bird.”
Aven shot him a black look, but agreed. “On it.”
Carick headed toward the center of the room, eyes everywhere, throwing one piece of advice over his shoulder. “Look for the glow.”
Jameson frowned. The glow. He’d seen a green flash, both times he’d seen the woman. Not really what he’d call a glow. Bryce brought the walkies, handed them out, and everyone dispersed. Jameson stayed by the door, the better to observe the crowd, desperate for a glimpse of wavy chestnut hair and fairy-like features. He moved to the back of the room, then to the side, trying to see every face.
Once again Mr. Bunn stepped onto the platform and held his hands up for silence. Jameson sank into an empty chair, his eyes on the door, not even half-listening to what the human was saying.
After only a moment, the door opened. Her.
Her upper body peeked in first, eyes going immediately to the front of the room and widening at the sight of the projector and screen. Jameson didn’t look away this time. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. He held his walkie up to his mouth, hiding it with his wrist, and breathed her description into the microphone, then turned the volume down all the way so anyone responding wouldn’t draw attention to her.
The woman breathed deep, squared her shoulders, and stepped fully into the room, the door easing closed behind her. Her black eyes were healed. No, covered with makeup. She moved quickly away from the door and into a seat at the back of the room. Her small frame was tense, poised for flight, her hands clasping the seat of the chair beside her thighs as if she could keep herself from running if she held on tightly enough. Jameson sensed the restrained energy in her body, as if her molecules hummed, disturbing the air around her. He waited for her to settle, watching as surreptitiously as he could.
He wanted a closer look, but didn’t want her to notice him. The lights dimmed, and the projector was switched on.
In the low light, what had seemed like restrained energy became a subtle green glow around his fairy-woman. Her features were clear, but the air surrounding her was warped by a shimmering line of green shaded from emerald to forest. Extraordinary. Deadly. The glow. Now that he saw it, it was so obvious! It had been around her all along, but his mind had hidden it from him. A half-memory swam through his brain, of a similar glow, but a different color… He couldn’t catch it so he let it go.
A burst of excitement hit him in the chest. Confirmation. A switch, and he was the only one who saw her.
He shot a look to Carick, but, shit! He was so wrong. The face of every other shifter in the room was turned. Staring, all of them. Shiloh and Ryder, even Flint and Bryce were straining their necks to see the switch glowing green. Jameson snapped his fingers in the brothers’ faces.
“Cool it!” he mouthed.
So much for subtlety. Jameson turned back to glance at the woman and almost jumped. She was looking right at him. And… smiling?
Jameson smiled back, lopsided, and lifted his hand in a small wave, then turned face front. What the fuck now?! He caught Flint looking at him out of the corner of his eye and met his friend’s gaze. Smooth, Flint mouthed to him.
What the hell was he supposed to do, blow her kisses? Jameson didn’t even know the woman. But holy hell, did he want to get to know her.
He snuck a look. She was staring at the speaker and his slides. She wore a white tank top with crochet detail over bright pink capris, managing to look at once sunny, comfortable, and sophisticated.
His heart twisted in his chest and he lectured it. Not yours. Keepers don’t rut with shifters. (wrong. yours) Jameson shivered, even though it wasn’t cold.
He glanced at Flint and Bryce, trying to imagine one of them taking care of their new-found switch during a prowl. He snarled without meaning to and Flint shot him a nervous glance as a few humans close to them looked around like they were trying to figure out what that noise had been.
Jameson’s fangs were growing in his mouth. He felt like popping Flint in the face. Not acceptable. Get ahold of yourself.
He twisted his head for another look at the fresh, lovely switch and found wide hazel eyes staring back at him. The woman’s cheeks flushed and she glanced down, then back up again, meeting his eye and smiling sweetly.
Holy shit, he was so fucked. If she walked up to him and asked for the keys to his truck, he’d hand them over. Anything she wanted. If she would just look at him like that again. Give him that sweet smile?
He stared. Not able to help himself. She looked again. Smiled again. Fuck. He wanted to buy her stuff. Protect her from burglars. Prostrate himself before her in the street so her dainty fairy feet didn’t have to touch dirt or rocks.
“Jameson.” Carick’s voice coming from his left, soft, but easily carrying over Mr. Bunn at the front.
“What?” Jameson barked back, pulling his eyes away from the switch and laying them on Carick.
Carick’s black eyes scanned the room, oblivious to anything but his own objectives. “The shifters sense something. You sense something. Tell me.” Jameson ignored him and shot to his feet, sensing Mr. Bunn about to end his remarks. He needed to be between the switch and the door, needed to be the one to talk to her first-
But Bryce was there already, closing in on her, his face open and eager. He better not fuck it up. Jameson had half a mind to grab the cub by the ear and drag him outside; instead he hung back and listened.
“Hi, gorgeous, I’m Bryce. Haven’t seen you at a meeting before.”
The woman’s voice was surprised and a bit snarky. Jameson couldn’t see her expression, but he imagined her eyebrows were raised in a did-he-really-say-that look. He laughed silently at her reply. “Hi, beautiful. You don’t say.”
When Bryce spoke, Jameson could hear the laugh in his voice. She’d gotten him and he appreciated it. Not too much pissed Bryce off. “I do say. I definitely would have noticed you. You’re stunning.”
The smile in her reply was evident to Jameson’s ears. “Thank you, that’s very kind. Excuse me.”
Jameson grinned, curious how the cub would react to such a breezy blow-off. The woman caught his attention by moving directly in front of him and stopping, that same shy smile on her face. He almost stepped back, he was so surprised.
A surge of some heavy, masculine emotion filled his chest. Pride maybe. She wanted to talk to him. If only they didn’t have an audience… unless that was better. Maybe it would keep him focused on the job and not on her.
Bryce hadn’t gotten the hint, showing up at her right elbow. She looked at his face, then dismissed him and addressed Jameson. She held out her hand. “I’m Coralie.”
Gorgeous. Sweet voice. He blinked. Put up his hand. Touched hers. Soft. Firm and feminine grip. Her glow had dimmed, was fading even while he looked at her, a subtle sage line that blended more into the air around her with every second. She smelled like a mountaintop meadow, clean and sweet, and oh fuck he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. He could only stare. And feel. Each brush of her fingers against his palm sent shock waves through him. Would it feel so distinct everywhere on his body? If she touched him… anywhere else?
Bryce cleared his throat and shuffled in front of Jameson, slightly, blocking his view of Coralie. Coralie, what a beautiful name. Bryce. Between him and Coralie. Cub was gonna get learned in a second. Bryce didn’t even know how close he was to losing a limb or he’d be running.
Bryce gestured to Jameson, looking Coralie in the eye. “This is Jameson. He usually talks. Nice to meet you, Coralie.”
She spoke to Bryce, but her eyes were on Jameson. “I’ve seen Jameson before.”
Coralie said his name. He shuddered, his body responding definitively. How could he encourage her to say it again? Maybe even scream it in ecstasy.
Bryce frowned at him, then turned back to her. “You came to another meeting?”
Coralie’s gaze lingered on Jameson for a few seconds before she turned away. Shit. He had a second to catch his breath, not that he wanted to. He would rather stare at her. He couldn’t think-
Every shifter in the room, plus Carick, had moved in close, forming a circle around the three of them. Almost directly behind Coralie, Flint leaned in and breathed deep of her scent. Time for him to die.
Jameson’s fangs were growing again. His mind stumbled. Never in his life had he experienced a reaction like this to a woman. Would he respond to all the switches like this? Was everyone feeling it? Everyone but Shiloh? Maybe even Shiloh? He shot a look at her but couldn’t see her face behind her brother.
Coralie was answering Bryce’s question, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Y-yeah. I felt I should come. Good to be politically active, especially these days.”
Fear in her words. Jameson hated hearing it. He took a step closer to her. “Do you not feel safe?”
Coralie’s mouth opened and closed, no words coming out, a panicked look springing to her face.
Jameson squeezed in closer, wanting to murder Bryce and Flint who were both doing the same. He had to get this shit under control or she would run from all of them. But he had to know if someone had tried to hurt her. “What happened to you?”
Carick’s gruff, uncompromising voice came from just over Jameson’s shoulder. “We don’t give a shit if she’s felt safe. What we need to know is if she’s tried to kill anyone.”
The Steward pushed his way up to the front line so he could face Coralie squarely. “What about it, female? Have you?”
Chapter 18
Cora sucked in a breath. The guy from the diner. Had to be, she’d recognize that rough voice anywhere. He was more handsome than she’d even been able to imagine. Broad shoulders. Clear, ice-blue eyes. Wide-but-shy smile. Light hair shaved close to the scalp. Nice guy his looks screamed. Conscientious, traditional, his dark jeans and button-down said. Not stuffy, just… neat. With pride in his appearance, even if he were out to have a good time.
A guy like that could distract her from more than his buddy asking stupid, wildly inappropriate questions that hit way too close to the mark.
She nibbled her lip, glancing at the group of people surrounding her, crowding her, trying to feel them out. Why did all the hot ones have to be crazy?
She’d run like a little girl from the last meeting when the sight of Mitch Garner’s picture had dredged up the desire to murder, but forced herself to come back when she’d heard about the emergency meeting. She could control herself. She would. And this is what she found.
How could hottie’s- Jameson’s- friend, the massive guy who looked like he’d been in charge of everything ever invented, know about her… incident with Councilman Garner?
She stalled. “Kill anyone?”
The intense guy with the dark hair and the silver at his t
emples growled at her. Actually growled! “Answer the question.”
Cora tensed. “Whoa, you all need to back up. What is this, some kind of cult? Why are you all staring at me like that?”
Skeevy shit. No hottie was worth the weirdness she felt brewing. She was out.
Jameson held out his hands and backed up, dragging people with him. “Manners people, manners.”
The group backed up, but didn’t stop staring.
Jameson pushed on the arm of the intense guy. “You, too, Carick.” Carick, what the hell kind of name was that? She had stumbled onto some nutjob meeting. Had to have. But they were backing up. Listening to her hottie.
He looked at her, smiled, oh-good-lord-he-was-handsome, then gestured to the folding chairs all around them. “We should sit, Coralie. There’s something you need to hear.” So he was in charge. Good deal, she’d be happy to do what he told her to do. He seemed off though. Reluctant? Or just thoughtful?
She sat, perched on the edge of the chair, ready to beat feet when things got weird. Weirder. He sat too. The others backed far enough away, getting coffee, gathering to talk in small groups, that she didn’t worry they’d overhear what Jameson was saying to her.
Not that he was saying much. Only staring. Okay, she would start. She gestured behind him. “What’s with your friends? You all part of some extra-creepy political action committee?”
Jameson grinned. “Sorry about the creepy. Occupational hazard, maybe.”
Ah, now they were getting to the meat of what was going on. If he didn’t spill whatever secret he was keeping soon, she was gonna let him have it, hottie or not. “What, politics? Are you one of them?”
Jameson shook his head, but kept his eyes locked on hers. “Not one of them.”
Cora took a deep breath. Something was going on between them. She felt… aroused. Incited. Like their conversation was foreplay in disguise. “What, then?”
His face smoothed out. He licked his lips. Once. Twice. “You really wanna know?” he finally said, his voice husky.
