Heart Ache (Bound by a Touch Novels #1)

by Morgan Kearns

  Nikolai stood and began to pace, unable to keep the feelings of frustration and animosity and worry still a moment longer.

  “When she refused to be changed, he nearly drained her and waited until she was too weak to argue anymore. He ultimately took that choice away from her, too. She hated him for years. Even up until his death she flinched every time he touched her.” He plowed his fingers through his hair, remembering his father’s unadorned chest. “He was never given the gift of her tattoo.”

  “Tattoo?”

  “When a heartmate accepts her male as hers forever, her tattoo shows up on his chest. It’s an honor to wear a heartmate tattoo.”

  Niko dropped to his knees in front of Gabby once again and rested his hands on the couch on either side of her, caging her in. “Don’t you see, Gabrielle? I didn’t want to take your choice away from you. I would rather spend eternity without you than even one day of you hating me.”

  Her hand lifted, moved slightly toward his face, then she pulled it back and slid it under her thigh. He’d anticipated that touch. Craved it. And her retreat stung like a slap.

  “I’m sorry if I so rudely found a man who loved me.”

  “I lo—”

  “Save it.” She glared at him. Her shoulders straightened and the fight came back. “I loved Jayson and you killed him. Why? Because he had the balls to do something you never did? Dammit, Nikolai, you had the power a thousand times over to step forward and claim what was yours. But that wasn’t good enough for you, was it? You had to go to Hawaii, and dump him off the balcony!”

  She slammed her fists into her thighs. “The truth is I felt it, too. That first moment, I felt it, Niko. I felt the spark, but fought it off because you didn’t do a damned thing. You didn’t give me a single hint that there might be something between us. Least of which some cosmic destiny crap.

  “Dammit! If we’re destined to be together, how could you possibly not say something?” She shook her head and tipped it to the side. The motion was sluggish and slow. Her voice shook in its near whisper. “You didn’t even try, Nikolai; no flowers, no invitations to go out, no nothing. You are no different than your father. He just chose to steal the bride instead of offing the groom!”

  With knuckles turning white, she turned on her heel and stomped toward the front door. She paused, and Nikolai thought she might give him a chance to explain. Instead, she sighed and her voice caught on a sob.

  “And just so there’s no confusion, if you’d have tried to take me … I would have gone willingly.”

  Nikolai watched as she flung the door open wide. He expected the walls to shake, the windows to burst under the slam that would follow her departure, but there was only a soft click as the door closed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Niko paced from one end of his office to the other, feeling more like a caged tiger than a vampire. He tugged on his tie, threw it on his desk, then popped the top two buttons on his starched shirt.

  “I don’t see how your plan is going to work.”

  “There is only one thing that might fix the shitfest your life has become.” Gustav lounged lazily in the leather chair in the corner, one ankle resting on the opposing thigh.

  A head full of tight, gray curls poked around the corner of the open door.

  “Mr. Voinea, there is a Mr. Stephon Stephon here to see you.” It was clear by the older woman’s tone she didn’t approve of the man who stood in the foyer. She had good instincts.

  “Stephon?” Niko had tried not to let hope build, but it had. Only to be crushed, cutting and shredding as it moved down his body to rest in shards on the floor at his feet. He shook his head and glared at Gustav. “What were you thinking?”

  “Shall I call security?” she asked.

  Nikolai stared at the elderly lady the temp agency had sent a week ago and wasn’t sure what to say.

  Gustav jumped to his feet. “No. Please show him in.”

  Stephon strolled in with a black doo-rag covering blond curls and dark glasses on his face. His black leather jacket clung to muscular, broad shoulders and black jeans hung low so the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers could be seen. Around his neck hung a gold chain, the size of a choke collar for a St. Bernard, with an enormous dollar sign adorned with diamonds.

  Real diamonds no doubt.

  Stephon sauntered in with the style of a rap star and Nikolai wondered how many hours the male spent watching MTV to get it right. He pulled the dark glasses from his face and a pair of periwinkle eyes flashed as did the white teeth of his smile.

  “How’s it hangin’, boys?”

  Nikolai shot a questioning look at Gustav, then glanced down at his crotch before responding, “It’s … hanging fine, thank you.”

  Stephon burst into laughter. He shook his head. Niko had obviously missed the joke—and couldn’t care less. Gustav walked over to join them, and Stephon stuck out his hand. The two did some fancy handshake thing that ended with the two of them hugging. Nikolai watched the exchange in curious horror. He couldn’t believe his brother actually paid any attention to this male, who was nothing more than a two-hundred-year-old vampire with an identity crisis.

  “So, I hear you’re in need of some assistance.” Stephon sunk down into one of the two chairs facing Niko’s desk.

  “You hear that, huh?” Irritation boiled in his veins and Niko went back to the large, wingback chair behind his desk to keep from strangling someone.

  Gustav returned to his perch on the leather chair in the corner. “Oh, come on, Niko, somebody killed that human. Don’t you want to know who the asshole is? ‘Cause, sure as shit, they want to make your heartmate believe you did it. I’d bet my last million bucks it was a vamp.”

  He would make the same wager and, yes, he did want to know who it was. But to bring Stephon into the mix? The male was annoying as hell.

  “Fine.”

  Stephon smiled. He ran a huge palm over his diamond encrusted insignia, only to raise it in front of him. Fingers flew to form weird looking symbols Nikolai couldn’t even begin to decipher.

  “I got your back, Nik. I’ll find that mofo and bust a cap in his ass.”

  Not wanting to appear as dense as he felt, Nikolai didn’t ask what a mofo was or how breaking a hat in the male’s ass would solve things, so he just nodded. “Where do we start?”

  “The beginning. I need to know what happened. Everything. From the last second you saw Gabrielle Ryan and her husband, Jayson McDade.” Stephon leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His façade gone, he was all business. His eyes deadly serious.

  “Sounds like you already know what happened,” Nikolai said, shooting yet another annoyed glance at Gustav. His brother only shrugged.

  “Yes, Gustav gave me a few details. From what I understand, your heartmate, Miss Ryan married Mr. McDade. Pretty dumbass mistake to let it get that far, but who am I to judge?” He shrugged. “They went to Hawaii on their honeymoon, where Mr. McDade was found after his fall from the balcony. Have you seen the body?”

  Gustav and Nikolai both shook their heads.

  “What was the actual cause of death?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Nikolai shrugged.

  Stephon clucked his tongue. “For a man who’s been judge-and-juried in the eyes of his heartmate, you don’t seem to care much about clearing your name.”

  His fingers rolled into fists and he had to remind himself the moron across the desk wasn’t the enemy. “I didn’t know I needed to know the facts.”

  Stephon snorted. “Well, if we’re going to figure out who’s framing you, you probably ought to learn the facts. Or am I just wasting my time?”

  Before Niko could use a fist to close the mouth of the arrogant wannabe, Gustav stood next to the desk with a hand firmly planted on Niko’s shoulder. The grip tightened when muscles tensed. “We’ll clear your name, brother.”

  “Yeah, we will,” Stephon verified. “I’ll need Gabrielle Ryan’s address and every phone number you have for her. Do you
have any information on Mr. McDade?”

  “You’re the private investigator, Stephon, shouldn’t you be able to investigate your way into that kind of information?” The armrests creaked under Niko’s grip.

  Stephon remained unruffled by the question, only reacting with a quick nod. “Yes, I could get that information. But the more time I spend tracking down information you already have, the longer it’s going to take me to get your answers. Are you hiring me to find out who killed Mr. McDade?”

  “Yes,” Nikolai growled.

  “Then we are in this together, my friend.” Stephon sighed. “I need her address, phone numbers, email addresses, anything else you have on her. And any information you have on Jayson McDade. I’ll start with Gabrielle and go from there.”

  “You will keep me posted on every step of your investigation.” It wasn’t a request.

  “Of course. You’ll be informed of everything. This is your case. I’m merely your eyes and ears. I will find your guy. I always do. Always.”

  Resigned, Nikolai scribbled Gabby’s information on a piece of personalized stationary and held it out to Stephon.

  He stuffed the paper into his jeans pocket as he stood. His hand moved over his broad chest and the contact with the gold chain caused a metamorphosis to occur. His head jerked slightly.

  “Peace.” His fingers formed a V, which he tapped twice to his heart, then his lips. “Later biotches, I’m out.”

  Nikolai watched in utter disbelief until Stephon had cleared the reception area.

  “It’s a sad day when that male is my best chance for redemption.”

  “Stephon is the best. If anyone can get to the bottom of things, it’s him.”

  “Heaven help me,” Niko moaned, dropping his head into his hands.

  Gabrielle spent all day feeling like she was being watched; in Starbucks, at the grocery store, in the bookstore while she perused the romance section looking for something to take her mind off the love she wasn’t making. She’d tried to search, nonchalantly, for the Peeping Tom, but was never able to find anything—anyone—out of the norm.

  It wasn’t until she dropped her keys just outside her apartment door that her eyes made contact with a pair of wing-tipped shoes. She looked up to see a man looming over her, dressed as though he’d stepped out of a 1930’s movie in his chocolate brown, pinstriped suit, complete with matching vest, white linen shirt and derby hat.

  “Gabrielle Ryan?” he asked through a smile, offering her a hand the size of a small ham.

  “Y- yes.” She straightened and took a step back. “And you are?”

  Her hands shook as she poised the key to open the lock as soon as she got rid of the potential attacker. Oh, she hoped he didn’t attack her. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the hell month she’d had?

  “My name is Stephon.”

  “Stephon?” She looked into his face, his very handsome face.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a last name?”

  “Stephon.”

  Gabby raised a brow and laughed out loud. “Your name is Stephon Stephon?”

  The man rolled his beautiful, light blue eyes. “No, of course not. My name is Stephon.”

  “So, I should call you Mr. Stephon?”

  “No,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sucked in a deep breath, held it a moment then blew it out. Slowly. “Please, Miss Ryan, just call me Stephon.”

  “Fine, Stephon. Who are you and how do you know me?”

  He smiled and his canines were just a bit larger—and sharper—than usual. Damn, the man was a vampire.

  “My name is Stephon.”

  “We’ve established that.” She snorted.

  “Yes, yes, I guess we have.” He lifted the gold watch from his pocket and stretched it out on the chain, flipping it open to check the time. “I’m sorry, Miss Ryan, where are my manners? I am Stephon. I have been hired by your heartmate, Mr. Nikolai Voinea, to clear him of the accusations that have been made against him.”

  “You’re a—” She suddenly remembered they were standing in the very public hall of her apartment building. “You’re like him?”

  He smirked, his eyelids dropping as if they offered the nod his head did not. “Yes, Miss Ryan, Mr. Voinea and I are … of the same race. May I please come inside and speak with you for a few moments?”

  She might not feel threatened by the guy, but she wasn’t going to allow a stranger into her apartment, especially a stranger who might consider her a potential meal. That would just be stupid.

  Stephon dug into the pocket of his tailored pants and pulled out a piece of ivory paper. She recognized it immediately. He held it out to her.

  “Like I said, Miss Ryan, Mr. Voinea hired me to clear his good name, to find out who murdered your husband.”

  “Husband?” she nearly shrieked, surprised by the word—and her reaction to it.

  Was it possible Nikolai still thought she’d gone through with the ceremony? Did he really think she could marry Jayson while loving another man, finally knowing he loved her in return?

  “Yes, Mr. Jayson McDade. Your husband.”

  “Oh, no … we—”

  A door opened across the hall. A silver head emerged, covered with spongy pink curlers.

  “Is everything okay, Gabby?” The elderly woman looked Stephon over, from wing-tips to derby, and narrowed her eyes behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “Do I need to call the police?”

  “No, Mrs. Wright, it’s okay. He’s a friend of a friend.” Gabby once again glanced down at the paper. Not only was it from Nikolai’s desk, it had her name, address, phone numbers, and even her email address written in Nikolai’s elegant handwriting. She wasn’t sure what to think of this throwback to the early twentieth century. He certainly didn’t appear to be the axe murderer type, but what did Gabby know?

  Another look at the soft lines and curls of Niko’s writing and her gut knew what she would do next. Call it instinct or call her crazy … Gabby slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

  Stephon waited in the hall. “Miss Ryan, I hate to be rude, but I do need your permission to enter your home.”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. Then Natasha’s words slammed back into her. That invitation made my visit possible.

  Not wanting to remember the rest of that conversation, she flung a prayer to the heavens that she was right about him, and waved a hand in welcome. “Of course, please come in.”

  He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, then tugged his hat into his hands. As though he were noting every dust particle, his gaze moved around the room. Then his eyes drifted closed and he sucked in a deep, exaggerated breath. His lids lifted and he walked around the room, searching for heaven only knew what.

  “I need you to tell me everything you can about the last time you saw Mr. McDade.”

  Gabby’s insides twisted and turned into uncomfortable knots. “The last time I saw Mr. um, Jayson was at the church. Technically, it was in the bride’s room when he gave me the tickets to Hawaii and he told me he would be waiting for me there.”

  Stephon paused in the appraisal of a picture he’d plucked from the table and looked at her. “You didn’t marry him?”

  “No.”

  “Interesting.” Periwinkle eyes twinkled and a smirk formed on his lips.

  Interesting wasn’t the word she’d use for this little conversation. Irritating, definitely irritating! She wondered if she would get the chance to tell Nikolai she’d never married Jayson, or if Stephon would run back to his employer with the good news. Big, Blond, and Beautiful would probably get a bonus for it—rewarding the messenger and all that.

  Yet, Gabby couldn’t help but wonder if Niko would even care. It had been days since she’d strode into his house and went off on him. He hadn’t chased after her, hadn’t forced her to accept him into her life, into her heart—like he didn’t already own it.

  “So … um … I have thing
s to do,” she told Stephon which was only a step more polite than saying ‘get out my house’.

  He replaced the frame and stepped toward the door. “I will let you know what I find out. This affects you as much as it does Nik.”

  “Ha!” The word burst from her lips, although she felt no humor. How could she? She was in love with a murderer. “This doesn’t affect me anymore. What do you want anyway?”

  “I’m investigating the circumstances of the murder in order to determine who committed it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t believe it was Mr. Voinea.”

  “Oh, that’s rich,” Gabby scoffed. “We both know Nikolai is only trying to save his ‘good name’ in the vampire world. Being convicted of murder must really suck for your kind.”

  “You have no idea,” he muttered, his tone suddenly somber and Gabby didn’t want to have an idea. “However, killing a human, especially one who stands in the way of being with your heartmate, is not something he would be prosecuted for.” He tipped his head, flashed her a smile and nodded slightly. “Well as I said, I’ll keep you apprised of my findings.”

  Stephon took Gabby by the hand, shaking it gently. “Good night, Miss Ryan, I will be in touch,” and then he popped out of the room.

  “I hate when they do that!”

  Nikolai stood like some kind of criminal on the balcony in the dark and waited until the lights went out in Gabby’s apartment. As the soft whispers of her breathing steadied, he released the locks with his mind, opened the door, and went inside. It was the same as he remembered it. The only thing different were the photos conspicuously missing.

  Jayson had been removed from her life. Literally and figuratively.

  Quietly, Nikolai made his way down the hallway to her bedroom. His long fingers slowly pushed the door open. Step by step he made his way toward the end of the bed. Her auburn hair spilled over the pillow, haloing her beautiful face. That beauty shook him to his core. He wanted those tresses tickling his chest, but knew it would only ever be a fantasy now.