“The demon let me live. I don’t know why,” Jennings continued, watching her carefully. “But I vowed to do away with as many of them as possible in my lifetime.” He pushed away from the wall and began pacing the room, looking at the carpet as he walked. “I remembered everything my father taught me – how to recognize them, how to kill them, even how to hide my scent afterward. As young as I was, it wasn’t long before I realized that Kane was one of them.” He stopped and looked up at her.
Lily’s head was spinning. She was so hungry and so weak, she could barely keep from thinking of blood – of meat. But she forced herself to pay attention anyway. If Jennings’ father had died at the same time as Tabitha’s parents, then Allan would have been eight or nine years old – roughly the same age as Tabitha was. A little boy. Taught to kill.
“It wasn’t long after I realized Kane was a demon that I realized he was a born leader among them,” Jennings continued. “I decided to shadow him – to get on his good side. I needed a way into his world.” He moved to the shelves against the wall and picked up his gun, fingering the trigger. “So that I could rip it apart from the inside.”
He laughed then and looked over at her. “I was good, Lily. You’d have been impressed. He eventually forgot all about how I’d had a crush on you in high school. Hell, after you left town, it was like you’d never existed to him. He never brought you up. And neither did I.” He shook his head and started slowly toward the bed. “Before long, I was the only human he trusted enough with the tougher cases. Everyone else he surrounded himself with was a demon. Just like him.”
He came to stand beside the bed and towered over her, his gun held easily, casually, in his right hand. “When Kane asked me to do a check on Malcolm Cole, I couldn’t believe my luck.” He laughed harshly. “A serial killer demon in the same town as a demon cop. It doesn’t get more perfect than that.” He gazed down at her through heated blue-gray eyes. “I had truly hoped that he and Cole would make things easier for me and do each other in. There’s nothing a Hunter likes more than to see two demons kill each other off. Two birds with one stone.” He shook his head. “But things got messy.”
Lily’s mind raced. As she stared up at him and his stormy, avid eyes, she figured it was now or never. Using the softest, breathiest voice she could muster, she licked her lips and said, “Allan? Please. I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. Why are you punishing me for something that Kane did?”
Jennings blinked. His brow furrowed slightly. Suddenly, he was shoving the Glock in the waistband of his jeans at his back and sitting beside her on the bed. This caused the sheet to pull taut over her form, and his eyes wandered to the curves so obviously outlined beneath it.
He cleared his throat. “What-” His gaze trailed back to her face. “What do you need?”
“I think,” she paused, licking her lips once more before continuing. “I think I need meat.” This much was true. While the thought angered her a little because she hadn’t eaten an animal for as long as she could remember, she knew that it was only natural. She was a wolf. They were carnivores. And right now, the image of a rare filet mignon was floating, enticingly, before her mind’s eye.
“That must make you angry,” he said softly.
Lily blinked, thrown for a moment.
He smiled a gentle, knowing smile. “I know you’re a vegetarian, Lily. You have been since high school.”
He was right. She’d had her reasons. She just didn’t like to think of the animal that was behind the meat – its muscle and bone, like her own muscle and bone. But, it had made her stand out in the lunch room. Anything that could possibly make her different from the other students in high school, she masochistically took to like a moth to a flame. That was Lily. The leftover.
“And now he’s made you into a monster and you have to kill for your food.” Shadows crossed his face and something dark flickered in his eyes. But he shook his head quickly and his shoulders fell. He looked away from her. “I know it isn’t your fault. I know you tried your best to escape him. You ran from him. I’m sorry that I didn’t stop him in time.”
Lily closed her eyes as another wave of dizziness swept over her, this one stronger than the last. It felt like her world was rocking back and she would slide right off of it. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her throat. Her head fell to the side. Her gums ached around her fangs. Her stomach cramped. Her hands clenched above her where they were fastened so securely to the metal post.
“I’m so sorry, Lily.”
She opened her eyes again when she felt the backs of his fingers caress her cheek. She had to fight the urge to pull away from him. It wouldn’t help her right now.
The weight on the bed lifted as he stood. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
Jennings turned and left the large underground room, and Lily could hear him slide several bolts shut in the door. It sounded metallic.
The door must be metal, she thought. She choked out laughter in cold amusement. As if I could ever get out of these cuffs. What the hell are they made of, anyway?
More dizziness assaulted her and she tried to curl on her side. It was difficult and her wrists hurt, but she managed it, not caring that it lifted the sheet behind her, exposing the back of her body.
Eventually, she even drifted into an uneasy sleep, welcoming the darkness over the discomfort with open arms.
Chapter Nineteen: Man Hunt
When the call had come in that Lily’s car was located north of town on Highway 61, halfway between the city and St. Francisville, Daniel had not hesitated.
He’d stormed out of the precinct and sprinted back to his bike once more. As if they sensed that this was it – that this meant werewolf war – his entire pack had followed suit, each heading to their own vehicles, whether they were off-duty, personal vehicles or marked police cars.
Several members of Daniel’s pack rode motorcycles of their own. Others had paired up and were traveling in pick-up trucks and SUV’s. As a result, Daniel’s Harley Night Train was the point vehicle in what effectively became a convoy of sirens and roaring engines that rocketed through town, bypassing traffic lights and stop signs without slowing.
They were a sight to behold.
Had any of them cared a whit what kind of a show they were putting on, they would have noticed the openmouthed stares of children who stopped to watch them from street corner sidewalks, and the pointing fingers of LSU students who stood in groups and muttered amongst themselves as they wondered what the hell was “going down.”
But the only thing any of them was thinking was that Daniel was their leader and his mate was in mortal danger. Without Lily, Daniel would not reproduce. It would be yet another blow to their already greatly suffering population.
Their very future was at stake.
Daniel knew that very few people on the planet actually believed in werewolves – much less knew Lily Kane would be one. Of those very few people, Hunters made up the majority of the population. And if it was a Hunter that had taken Lily, then it was most likely the same Hunter who had killed Daniel’s Uncle and his mate – and the Mayor and his family. Though, that one was confusing to Daniel.
Why kill the Mayor? Unless it was something personal, and that bore more consideration.
Just not now. Because all Daniel could concentrate on right now was Lily.
Construction barrels lined the road on either side of the single-lane highway, making it difficult for people to pull to the side when the siren-blaring cars hurtled their way through traffic. Daniel steered his motorcycle expertly through a cacophony of pumpkin painted metal and neon arrows that directed traffic to merge or turn around or simply disappear. He found himself wondering at the chaos of it all and empathizing with the poor fuckers who occasionally gave into road rage.
The late afternoon sky was darkening rapidly.
Clouds of white cranes circled like vultures around cattle in the farm land that bordered Highway 61. They gathered in snow-colored flocks in the corn an
d sugar fields and then ducked down into the moss-covered bayou to pick at dead fish and crawdads. A few of the brave beasts startled at the sound of the racing cars, trucks and motorcycles of Daniel’s crew, but for the most part, they ignored the humans that had built a straight, hard line through their world.
And Daniel ignored them.
Finally up ahead, the starkly flashing red and white lights of two police cars summoned Daniel and his werewolf posse, guiding them to their destination like a lighthouse on the misting, gray horizon.
Daniel straightened and loosened his grip on the throttle of his bike until it slowed beneath him. He rode it to a full stop twenty feet from the first flashing vehicle as the rest of his pack parked up and down the street, all along the shoulder.
Daniel switched off the engine, kicked down the stand, and dismounted. His blue gaze fell on Lily’s car and his heart skipped a painful beat.
“Chief, nothing’s been touched. We only verified the vehicle as belonging to Miss St. Claire and called you right away.” One of the officers approached Daniel, nodding respectfully.
It was beginning to sprinkle again. A second storm was rolling in, right along with the night.
Daniel eyed the human officers and took a deep breath, trying desperately to think like a cop and not like an alpha male in danger of losing his mate forever.
These men were human. They were not wolves. They should not be there. If they hung around, they could see something that would need explaining and at that moment, Daniel couldn’t afford to expend the time and energy necessary to detain the men while the Clan Council provided the only kind of “explaining” sufficient to keep the werewolf community sufficiently safe. Which is to say, the magical kind.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Daniel put on his business face and nodded curtly. Aiden Knight came up beside him, as did Lieutenant Michael Angel. The two wolves eyed the other officers with the same wary impatience that Daniel felt riding his own body and mind. “We’ll handle it from here. I’m reassigning you for the time being,” Daniel continued, nodding to Angel, who took the hint and gestured for the other officers to follow him. “Lieutenant Angel will fill you in.”
Michael Angel corralled the officers to the side, pulling them from Lily’s car and allowing Daniel to give it his full attention. He strode the last ten feet to the black two-door Dodge Neon, reached his hand out toward the door handle, and then froze.
The smell of her blood washed over him so thick and red that it felt as if he’d walked into a wall of it. And he hadn’t even opened the door yet. Nausea roiled once more in his belly, forcing bile to climb his esophagus until he swallowed hard against it, fighting with all of his might the furious fear that drained his own blood from his face and shoved his fangs through his gums.
He felt Knight beside him and he turned to face his longtime friend. Knight took one look at him and swore under his breath, pulling a pair of shades from his own front pocket and handing them to his Chief. “Put ‘em on,” Knight whispered.
Thunder rolled in the distance. A fat droplet of water landed on the sleeve of Daniel’s leather jacket.
His fingers shook as he unfolded the sunglasses and slipped them over his glowing eyes. The clouds gathering overhead were heavy with the building storm and dark enough now that, had Daniel not been a werewolf and had excellent vision, the shades would have rendered him blind.
As it was, however, they would be no protection against what was waiting on the other side of that car door. They would fail to shield him from seeing what he didn’t want to see.
Daniel opened the car door and peered inside. He was right.
“Christ,” Knight whispered beside him. His hand found Daniel’s shoulder and gripped tightly. “She’s alive, Chief. Just remember that she’s alive.”
Daniel didn’t speak. What breath he had was locked in his lungs and going nowhere. Both of the front seats of Lily’s car had been drenched in her blood. The thick, red liquid had pooled two-inches deep in the cup holders and ran in quickly drying rivulets around the base of the gearshift to the saturated carpet below.
Her blood coagulated into a deep burgundy where it had splattered across the dash board and stereo controls, but Lily’s abductor must have known enough to wipe down the windows before heading into traffic, because while they should have been covered in a confetti of red as well, they were more or less clear.
Everything else was soaked.
Daniel had rarely seen anything like this. He had witnessed countless killings. But, unlike the gore they poured into movies made for the big screen, in the real world bodies only bled so much. Once they were mortally wounded, they tended to die relatively quickly. Once they were dead, they stopped bleeding altogether.
Lily hadn’t stopped bleeding because she hadn’t died. She hadn’t died because she was a werewolf – and her abductor was able to wound her again and again. And again.
So the blood kept pouring and this ruined, sopping car was the result.
“When we’re finished with him, God won’t be able to put him back together again,” came a voice from behind Daniel.
As if in a dream, he turned slightly and recognized the two additional figures at his back as his grandfather and James Valentine. It was his grandfather who had spoken. Jonathan Kane placed his hand gently on Daniel’s back and said something in an old Cajun French dialect that only Daniel could understand.
Daniel swallowed once more to make sure nothing was going to come up and opened his mouth to reply to his grandfather when another, different scent stalled him once again.
Lily’s abductor. It had to be. There was no other scent in the vehicle and, even this one was so faint that it was obvious the abductor had attempted to cover it up. He’d almost been successful.
But not quite.
“I don’t fucking believe it,” Knight hissed. He’d scented it too.
“It can’t be,” whispered Jordan Stark, as the officer approached from behind Daniel.
Peripherally, Daniel was impressed that they’d been able to catch the scent as he had. He’d trained them well. And he could certainly understand their confusion – their surprise – as to what they were smelling.
Because the scent that so obviously belonged to the abductor was supposed to belong to a friend. A seasoned cop.
Allan Jennings.
Daniel had pulled the man into his fold of friendship. He had trained him personally. He had trusted him. But in return, Allan Jennings had seriously injured and kidnapped the love of Daniel’s life.
Daniel’s instincts about the man in high school had been right, after all. There had been something about Jennings that he simply hadn’t liked. And when he’d found out that Allan wanted Lily – he’d made damn sure that the boy stay away.
Daniel had good instincts. Because, if his deductive reasoning was correct, Jennings was a Hunter. Daniel had believed that nothing more could surprise him that day. He’d been wrong.
“I’m going to strangle him with his own intestines,” Lieutenant Angel swore through gritted teeth. He’d sent the human officers away and come back to stand beside Daniel once more. He, too, had scented Jennings in the car.
Something inside of Daniel slid back into place in that instant. The cop in him stepped forward and shoved the wolf in him aside. Sort of. Enough for him to do his job. At least he had something to go on. And he knew Lily was alive.
Now it was a race against time.
* * * *
Daniel allowed the cop in him to take the reins. With expert efficiency, he watched himself move through the motions of tracking down Officer Allan Jennings. His cell phone conversations were hurried, plentiful and blunt. He made demands and the people on the other end of the line always obliged him. He was the Police Chief and this was a life or death situation.
He had people pull up everything from Jennings’ utility bills to his bank notes to his credit card records. He had people running a full check on the man’s psychological profile and tracking
down documentation on where Jennings went while online, what he purchased, what he downloaded. Everything.
Approximately half an hour later, a call came through from someone at the station. Apparently, Jennings had purchased a second house about a year ago. No one had ever heard of this transaction. His home address had not changed. He’d never spoken of it to anyone. He had paid for it in full. In cash.
“Hunter money,” Stark muttered, the expression on his face reflecting the disgust that everyone on that highway shoulder was feeling at that moment.
Over the phone the address was quickly relayed. Daniel hung up. “All right men, it looks like he may not have gone far. This home address is only three and a half miles up the road.”
Daniel figured that Jennings had left Lily’s car parked here, so close to his address, with the sole intention of confusing his Chief into thinking he would then take his new vehicle somewhere far, far away. It was a smart move on his part. Luckily it hadn’t worked.
Receiving the intel was like flicking a switch. The pack mobilized instantly; Knight, Stark, Angel and the others returned to their cars, motorcycles, and trucks and started their engines. Daniel once more retained the lead on his Harley, but this time, the pack kept their sirens quiet as they raced after their quarry. Just as they hadn’t wanted to warn Cole, the wolves didn’t want to alert Jennings to their approach.
At least, not until it was too late.
Bougainvillea Lane was one of those ancient plantation driveways that was historic and scenic enough that city government had deemed it worthy of its own street name. It turned off of Highway 61 without warning and now that the rain was coming down steadily, it took some serious riding expertise for the cops on motorcycles to keep from laying their bikes down as they turned onto the gravel drive.
The home was vintage antebellum; white pillars supported a wrap-around porch that framed a two-story mansion most likely built in the late eighteenth century and then revived. Potted plants sported bright pink and white blooms and the air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle. The two-hundred-year-old oak trees that lined the drive were dripping with Spanish moss so long and thick, it nearly hid the Greek-styled statues that decorated the well-manicured lawn.
The Heat Page 21
