Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5)

by C. J. Ellisson

  Quick as a wink, she senses my emotional reaction, shutting down her onslaught of sexual hormones.

  Her head tilts to the side as she examines me with curiosity. “Tell me what you didn’t tell Manny.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Why are you here?”

  The hand in my pocket closes over the house keys Rafe gave me, a very solid reminder of why I’m here and what I can’t reveal. “Work, mostly.”

  She smiles. “Your words sound true, for the most part. I get the feeling there’s more you aren’t telling me. Care to expand?”

  “I really can’t, sorry. But you can rest assured I’m not a lone wolf looking to hone in on your territory. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I don’t think I’ll be here by the end of the season.”

  Her changed hand comes to rest on the bar next to one of mine, tapping out a deadly staccato, making dents in the wood surface with her long sturdy claws. “That’s good, because we don’t deal well with loners. Especially after what hit the news earlier tonight.”

  “Hold on a sec. You thought I might have been the animal in the attack that killed someone?” I sink onto the high stool by the bar. “Of all the strangest things I’ve been accused of, that has to take the cake. But seriously, you think it might be a werewolf?”

  She looks around the room once more, then settles her smoldering gaze back on me. “More importantly, the medical examiner thinks it’s a wild animal who’s bigger than any domestic dog or native predator.”

  “How did you hear that? I haven’t seen it in the news.”

  “Friends in high places. Let’s go to my office in the rear and we’ll talk.” Without a backward glance, she walks away through the throng of Weres, weaving a path toward a hallway in the back.

  I follow, passing close through the tables, sensing every eye on me. I can’t tell yet if these wolves are happy with their new leader, or plotting her demise. It’s the oddest feeling.

  We stride into a small office and she closes the door behind us. The thick wood mutes the noise from the bar, cocooning us in a pocket of relative quiet. “I miss Hector,” she says in a soft voice, regret tingeing her tone.

  “Then why did you kill him?” I ask, leaning against the wall, admiring her tight curves.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “We all have a choice when it comes to killing, honey.”

  She lunges forward, her clawed hand digging into the wood paneling beside my head. “Don’t ‘honey’ me, you cocky son of a bitch. You weren’t here. You don’t know the choices I had to make or why.” Bitterness creeps across her face, dimming her beauty. “All you should concern yourself with is the fact I dealt with the issue on my own, when no other man in the pack was strong enough to do so.”

  I raise my hands to reinforce I’m harmless. “Take it easy, lady. I’m sure you had your reasons.” I motion my head toward the door. “How did the rest of them take it?”

  “At first, there was a lot dissension among the men. But once I kicked a few asses they settled into line.” She retracts her claws, transforming back to fully human, her slim hand looking perfectly normal again, and wanders to her desk to take a seat. “But then the first murder happened two days ago and all eyes turned to me.”

  “You mean the woman beaten to death? I read about that on my flight over. Why would they think you were responsible?”

  “I knew her. She was a member of a small coven of witches in the barrio.” She gazes toward a high window in the stucco wall, set near the ceiling. A sliver of moonlight leaks in, illuminating the delicate lines of her face and shining on her short hair. “She was quiet, nice, stuck to herself—not a flashy witch—yet.”

  “Okay, well, that doesn’t sound like a reason you’d kill her.”

  “I didn’t. But the pack knew I didn’t like her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’d had an affair with Hector two years ago.” A phone vibrates on the desk in front of her. She picks it up and reads an incoming text, not sharing the message or elaborating further. Not that I expected her to either.

  “No offense, but that’s a long time to hold a grudge, especially if you already killed the man.”

  She looks to me and nods. “Yes, I think most of them felt that way. Knew I wouldn’t take action so long after the incident.”

  “Meaning if you were going to kill her, you would have done it two years ago when you found out?”

  “Yes. But this second death—that’s the real problem.”

  “Well spill it lady because I’m jet-lagged and the obvious isn’t really happening for me right now.”

  “Whatever animal killed the second victim is bigger than a werewolf.”

  “Okay, so? Doesn’t that mean you guys are off the hook?”

  “Not when your whole pack knows you can transform into something much bigger than an average werewolf—and inflict damage none of them could emulate.”

  “You’re saying your whole pack thinks you’re the killer?”

  She nods, pain filling her eyes. “Not the whole pack, I don’t think, but definitely the majority. And most of them are avoiding the bar altogether.” She straightens in her chair, smoothing her hands over the pristine desk blotter. “That’s why I called you back here.”

  “Uh… need a little help? Still don’t get it.”

  “You’re an outsider. Not connected to me or my pack. I need you to help prove my innocence and catch the real killer.”

  My jaw drops open. You could have knocked me over with a feather, I’m so shocked. That sure as hell wasn’t what I expected. “How? I’m here for my own… work. I don’t have time to spare for your issues.”

  She stands and comes around the desk, leaning her bottom on the front edge. “Sure you do, Jon. Because if you don’t, I’m going to tell them you’re the one who did the killing. And I’ll spread it to all the supes in town.”

  “Ha! Like anyone would believe you. Good luck with that. I was still in the air when the animal attack occurred.” I reach for the knob, ready to let myself out and get away from this crazy she-wolf with the Napoleon complex.

  “Maybe you’ll change your tune when I tell you I’ve already had someone follow your scent trail back to the home you’re staying in. How would your vampire master feel if she knew you gave away her location within hours of her arrival?”

  Anger boils under my skin as I turn back and face Magdelena. That must have been the info she received via text. Could it have been the two Weres who left the bar right after I arrived? “You send anyone after her and you’ll be signing their death warrants. She doesn’t take kindly to unwanted visitors.”

  The woman chuckles. “She’s only one vampire, and there are many supernaturals in the city. I doubt very highly she could stop them all. And my trackers reported she smelled very, very old. I bet she has a lot of enemies.” She trails a finger across the smooth surface of her desk, seemingly calm and collected while she issues Vivian’s death threat. She’s one scary lady. “You have a decision to make, don’t you?”

  I storm out, the sound of her laughter burning a fiery pathway to my groin. Dammit, I’m aroused even when I’m so pissed I want to throttle the woman.

  She shouts behind me as I leave, “You have twenty-four hours to give me your answer.”

  If I’d known tonight was going to turn out like this, I’d have stayed home and listened to the two love birds go at it all damn night. Even that would have been preferable to fucking up with the safe house location less than four hours after I arrive.

  I resist the temptation to immediately rush home to check on the pair. My head is filled with self-recriminations at my own stupidity in not taking safety precautions with our new home. What the hell was I thinking?

  Was I not thinking because checking in with the local pack was a routine task? Was it because my mind has been filled with Candy lately? Jesus, if I’m not careful, I’ll prove to be more of a danger to Viv and Rafe than anyone e
lse in the damn city.

  I wander around the quiet streets for hours, watching the city slowly wake up. It’s past dawn when I return to the small house, but with the time change from Alaska, it feels like midnight to me. I crawl upstairs and into the bed that doesn’t smell like pack or home. A few hours of sleep is just what I need before I tell Viv and Rafe about what happened. Considering the guilt weighing on me, I’m sure I’ll be up before the two of them.

  When I next open my eyes, it’s past two in the afternoon. I scramble out from under the covers and stagger to the bathroom for a shower. I wonder if there’s food downstairs. Ten minutes later, when I stroll into the kitchen, I hear the unmistakable sounds of love-making through the floor.

  All night long and those two still can’t keep their hands off each other? Geez. I block the images from my mind and think of Candy. Maybe I should call her to see what she’s doing today. I bet she’s up by now. Pulling ingredients from the cabinet and fridge, I begin brewing coffee and prepping a meal. No doubt the two of them will be hungry when they finally make it upstairs.

  I am not looking forward to reporting we have to leave this place as soon as possible.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Vivian

  Sweat rolls down my back, gathering in the dip of my spine. The sexual energy released during our all-night love session has finally filled me to the point of satiation. I feel more like my old self than I have in weeks. The shadows of doubt and worry no longer grip so tightly to my soul. All thanks to my husband’s tireless stamina.

  “Holy hell, that was incredible,” I mumble into the pillow.

  Rafe collapses on the bed beside me, a thick arm latching onto my waist to drag me closer. His still-rigid cock presses against my backside as he tucks me tightly to his front. “Incredible? A more inaccurate proclamation has never been uttered. Woman, I just rocked your world. Own it. The experience was way better than a simple ‘incredible.’”

  A chuckle spills from me. “Someone has a highly inflated opinion of himself.”

  He presses his hips toward my bottom. “Hush now, or I’ll rally for another round and prove my opinion is spot on.” A warm hand caresses my hip with affection and then draws back to deliver a resounding smack. The small zing of sensation jolts me from falling asleep. “And with two weeks away from you, I’m more than able to go for round four. Say the word, liebling.”

  “Is this where I cry ‘uncle’ and admit you’re the studliest man on the planet?”

  He grunts and digs his fingers into my hip. “You aren’t saying it like you mean it, darling. I think I will have to do you again, you insatiable wench.”

  I smile, content to lie here the whole day. I love goading him. “Oh yes, that’s it. Do me. Then I’ll proudly proclaim you king of all fuckery.”

  Before he has a chance to respond, there’s a solid knock on the hidden basement door. A sigh escapes us both.

  “What the hell could that furry bastard want?” Rafe glances at his watch. “Crap. It’s after three. We really should get up.”

  I push back with my hips, grinding into his, unable to resist teasing him after he was so cocky a moment ago. “I thought you were ‘up’ already?”

  He leaves the bed, taking his welcoming warmth and growing hard-on with him. “Rise and shine, liebling. Don’t make me drag you out.”

  We dress quickly in the cold basement. As I watch my husband, a shiver steals over me that has nothing to do with the cold. He’s heavily muscled all over and it takes a considerable amount of will power not to jump on him and feast from his throat while I ride him to another hard and fast orgasm.

  “Dria!” he calls loudly, breaking into my naughty daydreams. His voice softens as concern lights in his eyes. “Did you get enough sleep or should you stay down here and rest for a little while longer?”

  My husband has been much more doting since my ordeal with Coraline and her henchmen, more concerned with my well-being and welfare than I’ve seen him in decades. “I’m fine. No need to worry about me.” I don’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

  We both came away from that night changed forever—me with an increased sense of self-preservation and how delicate life can be, him with a stronger need to protect and shield me. I’ll never take a moment with him for granted ever again. Maybe that’s part of why we’ve both been insatiable the past day. I wasn’t strong enough when we were last together to really show him how much he means to me.

  He mumbles under his breath while dressing, it sounding suspiciously close to “someone has to look out for you since you won’t.”

  After digging for clean underwear and pulling them on, and I add jeans and a sweater, we ascend the stairs and trigger the release mechanism in the wall near the railing. The small door swings inward. In a moment, we’re in the tiny bath, resetting the latch to our new sanctuary. The scent of brewed coffee and scrambled eggs trickle in past the hallway door.

  “Smells like someone did a little shopping,” I say.

  “It was the last thing I did before meeting you at the hangar.” Rafe snuggles up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, planting a kiss on my neck. “I knew it would be the only chance I’d have. After that, I’d be lost in our ‘reconnecting’ for the next twenty-four hours or so.”

  “Let’s join him before you convince me to have my way with you again.” I look in the mirror and cringe at my bedhead. “You go first. I want to wash up and brush my hair.”

  “Sure thing, I’ll make you a coffee, too.”

  I finish my brief toilette and head into the kitchen, unsure of what awaits me between the two men in my life. Hopefully Rafe will be more tolerant now that he’s had his way with me non-stop for hours. Jon stands over the stove, finishing up what appears to be, judging by a dirty plate at the table, a second batch of food. I take the offered mug from Rafe and settle in an empty chair across from the men’s spots.

  “How did last night go?” I ask Jon.

  “Not bad, but not great, either,” he says, swinging a frying pan from the stove and moving to fill Rafe’s plate and the used one I noticed earlier. Fluffy yellow eggs slide onto the ceramic. “There have been changes in the local pack, and an issue they have demanded my help with.”

  I take a sip of the coffee and place my mug on the table. “Demanded? Interesting. Tell us about the changes first.”

  “Hector, the previous leader, is dead and—get this—it was at the hand of his alpha mate. She strikes me as a little on the crazy side. But that could just be the circumstances.”

  “Why do you think she’s crazy? Weres in unstable packs tend to vie for supremacy quite often.”

  “It’s not that. I think she’d have to be a little cray-cray simply for what she’s doing. She’s the first female leader of a pack I’ve ever encountered—but then again, it’s not like I’ve traveled the world and met dozens of pack leaders, so what the hell do I know?” He shakes his head, getting up to grab the plate of bacon he left on the counter. “The insane opinion comes from something else. She fears her pack will accuse her of the recent killings in the city and wants my help to prove her innocence.”

  “That doesn’t sound crazy. But I doubt we’ll have time to help her. Why do they think she’s responsible? Had you ever met her on previous visits?”

  “No, I hadn’t. She must not have been at the bar last year when I briefly met with Hector. She’s hot enough I would have remembered seeing her. And two years ago they had a different pack leader. You’re right, this pack does appear to be more volatile than most. Romeo and Elsa have held the Manitoba pack for decades.

  “This new leader is named Magdelena, and she has news regarding the killings the media doesn’t. The first death, the woman behind the herbal shop—she was a witch. And the wounds on the animal victim were made by something much larger than a werewolf. Oh, and get this—she’s a rare type of alpha who can partially change her body, achieving an in-between state of humanoid and werewolf—a form much larger than a regular
human, or werewolf on hind legs, could ever be.

  “And to answer you’re other question—they think she did it based on the fact she can half-shift. Her hybrid claws could have easily made similar damage as what the M.E. described.”

  Rafe pauses in eating. “I haven’t heard of this half-form trait before. How common is it?” He looks to me, wondering if I might have more data.

  I shrug. “Weres and their history have never been my specialty.” I return my attention to Jon, assessing him with new eyes. “But is this an alpha skill that can be acquired over time? Could you learn to do it?”

  Jon stares back at me, curiosity lighting his eyes. “I have no idea. That’s something I hadn’t thought of. I could ask.”

  Rafe snorts. “Oh yeah. That’ll work.” His voice take on a falsetto tone. “Sure, I’ll teach you my prized secret that allows me to control my entire pack.”

  “Hey. It might work. She wants my help. I could bargain with her.”

  “Why does she think you’d be interested in helping her anyway?” Rafe asks, a hint of incredulity in his tone. “Did she turn up the sexy werewolf pheromones to lead you around by your dick?”

  I watch Jon’s reactions carefully. Before the summer hunt with lots of female werewolves at the inn, he would have jumped at the chance to seduce or play with an eligible female alpha, but now he seems… reluctant. I won’t ask him about his possible recent conquests. His responses to this new situation should reveal all I need to know.

  “She tried. But I’m not so sure I’m interested. Especially after she threatened to blame me for the murders.”

  “How? And are they even related?”

  Jon nods, grabbing his coffee and taking a long drink. “Turns out Hector had an affair a while back with the witch who was killed. And the second death—if the animal wasn’t an animal but a supe—would mean supernaturals were involved in both cases.”

  “Surely no one would think the killings could be attributed to you when you just arrived in the country last night?”