A pounding in her temples began to grow stronger. She hadn’t eaten since she’d conned that human into renting the hotel room. He’d taken her to a five-star restaurant, where she’d ordered half the menu.
Hungry, thirsty, no money, and the skeleton fingers tingling up and down her spine meant more than a second-tier was after her. Not a great start to her escape.
Rancor had eyed her like a delicacy for years, but her defeat over Trance was still too fresh in the Circle’s memories. Fyra wished she knew how she’d done it, too.
Okay, she knew how, but could she ever replicate it? If she did in this realm, it’d be like detonating a napalm bomb. Her mother could only be slaughtered once, so without the emotion behind it, Fyra’s bomb might be more like a Fourth of July sparkler.
The Circle didn’t know that, though, and had no clue that after decimating Trance, her fire powers remained as unreliable as one of their promises.
Going on the run was better than turning herself over. It’d give her much-needed time, and without Bishop around to distract her, maybe a solution would finally appear.
***
Bishop snorted himself awake. Erie images of conjuring snowflakes the size of tea saucers evaporated.
He groaned as he raised his head. Sleeping in this position wasn’t good for any species. He rubbed his neck as he rolled the kinks out of it.
His hand stilled and his eyes flew open. He’d awoken for a reason. The room was no longer quiet. A gentle breeze pushed the curtains out.
He jumped up and as he ran to the window, it was obvious the bed was empty.
“Fuck!” He flung back the curtain.
Fyra was gone and so was his ride.
She’d managed her escape while he drooled on his shirt.
He froze and, thankfully, not literally this time. He stood in an open window in the middle of the day. Pleasant heat licked up his arms and face, but nothing burned. Squinting outside, he tensed, prepared to jump back as soon as he started getting ashed.
Nothing.
You cannot go in the sun, Bishop.
I know, Mam. No vampire can.
No. You cannot even attempt it. Never let anyone see you in the sun.
He scowled. What an odd thing to say. At the time, he’d been so young, he’d only interpreted it as a scolding.
No time to think on it with his demon on the loose.
He stalked around the room, racking his mind about what to do. He could rest up—as if he could sleep again—and wait until evening. But how would he chase her? Waste time renting a car. Then what? Hope he could sleep and talk with her in their dreams. Follow more fires.
Except other demons were more adept at finding her than he was. He’d have to tell Demetrius’s mate. The underworld had a way to track their people, and maybe Calli could figure out how and manipulate it for their benefit.
But all of that would take too much time. He scanned the room. Dammit, she’d taken his items, too.
She’d taken his ride. A crazy idea formed and he dwelled on it. Vampires could only flash to where they’d been before. Powerful vampires could flash all over the country. No matter where she was or how far she’d gone, she had his ride and he could go anywhere it did.
And for whatever reason, he wasn’t getting fried from daylight.
A grim smile curved his lips. Was he a powerful enough vampire to flash into a moving vehicle?
He didn’t close his eyes. If his attempt went south, he’d need to react quickly.
One thought.
Fyra’s scent bloomed around him and he was in the passenger seat of his Hummer. Trees and houses were drifting past as she drove through a residential neighborhood.
He’d done it! And his skin was as cool as—
Fyra yelped when she noticed him. The vehicle jerked and nearly rammed a parked pickup truck. She tore her stunned gaze off his and yanked the wheel the other direction. Bishop grabbed onto the dash as the wheels skidded and swerved. She let off the gas and parked crookedly with two tires up on the boulevard.
“Bishop! How did y— What were you think— You’re going to ash yourse—” She clamped her mouth shut. Her gaze went outside, where the midday sun shone, then back to him. She poked him in the chest. “You’re real? You’re really here? Why are you not burning to death?”
He reached over and snapped his keys out. “I would tie your generous ass up, but I guess you’d just burn through any restraints.”
“Why are you not in pain? Shouldn’t your skin be beet red? Blistering?”
Yes. Yes, it should. And he had few answers as to why—and one disturbing theory. “Move over, I’m driving.”
“You have a major secret and you’re not going to tell me.” Her lush mouth curved into a pout.
Because he didn’t know what it was. “I’m going to step out and you’re going to move over.”
She opened her mouth, but he cupped her face and leaned close. Her pupils dilated and his probably did, too, because she was fire and he was ice and they seemed too damn perfect together. He fell back on all of his training to refrain from circling her waist and pulling her onto him.
“If you ever think of running from me again, don’t try. I found you once. I found you twice. I will move Hell and Earth to find you again. Fleeing is pointless. I will get you.” He released her to open the door.
“You say the most romantic things.” From her breathless tone, she wasn’t being sarcastic.
Once he was settled in the driver’s seat with her in the passenger’s spot, he punched the accelerator. He’d drive day and night to get back to his team. With their help, he could deal with Fyra.
“That’s a helluva trick for a vampire.”
“Shut it, Fyra.”
He sensed her hurt feelings and wanted to scream. For a demon, she seemed awfully touchy. The first female he was rude to and it happened to be the only demon with tender sensibilities. He rolled his eyes and concentrated on the road.
“I mean, sunlight.”
“Fyra, I said quiet.”
“Bishop, do you think that’ll really work?”
A burst of laughter escaped. It was pretty stupid to expect her to listen to him. He said the first excuse he could think of. “I have a genetic mutation that allows me to tolerate sunlight.”
“Uh-huh.”
He winced at her patronizing response. Why’d he even try?
“So tell me, mutant boy, do the others know about this gene? Because I don’t recall while studying you that you could walk in the sun. You never went out during the day.”
He pounced on her tendency to reveal important information. “You must not have studied me well enough.”
“No. No, no, no, no. Dear Bishop. When the Circle ordered me to fuck my way into bonding one of you, I watched your whole team.”
He stuffed a growl back where it came from. She’d considered Demetrius, Rourke, and Creed also? Hell, she probably hadn’t ruled out Zoey or Ophelia, either.
“So what made you decide on me?”
“You were nice.”
He cut a sharp look at her. Nice?
“Surprised?” She slid her gaze away from him. “I’m not a monster. I stay alive by doing what the Circle says. I’m numero uno on their shit list, but I’m too useful. So I play the game and they’re too scared of me to execute me directly.”
She was a gold mine of information and he couldn’t have her stopping. “But Rancor tried to force himself on you. Isn’t that the same?” And what’d she mean, they were too scared?
Squirming in her seat, she didn’t look at him. “I think he was figuring out…”
Please don’t stop talking now.
“Well,” she shot him a dazzling smile, “I guess we all have our genetic mutations. So where are we going?”
“Back to my place.”
She fell quiet and her worry clogged the air.
And he couldn’t stand her worry. “You studied my team. We’re not monsters, either. You help us, w
e’ll help you.”
She snorted. “Heard that before. Story of my life, but guess what? I know that deal is really one-sided. ‘You help us, and we’ll use you to our advantage.’”
“It’s not the story of my life. I don’t hurt the ones I help.”
She turned a glare on him, but in the depths of her flame eyes, she wasn’t in the present. “I was told that once. Took refuge with someone who promised to protect me. Only I found out he’d been the one to,” her eyes glistened, “behead my mother.”
He eased onto the interstate and chanced a glance at her. She was hastily wiping her eyes, but it looked like every tear boiled out hot and evaporated.
“Why’d he kill your mother?”
“Because she was smart. A second-tier demon the entire Circle wanted to do their bidding. She trained me how to think for myself and, even worse in the underworld, to respect myself. She taught me that higher thinking would put me above one of the Circle any day.”
“But they let her live to serve, so why’d they kill her when they did?”
She twined a long lock of shimmering hair around a finger. “She was going to make it into the Circle. She wasn’t vicious enough, but very cunning, and that made her a threat to their plan of world domination.”
“And you don’t agree with that plan?”
She threw him a contemptuous look. “How’s that worked out for other species, or even races, on Earth? As long as the world turns, some idiot will try to rule the totality of it. Why? Isn’t carving your own niche, where you have the resources you need, more desirable? I don’t really care about how many beings I have under me. I just want to walk around without the Circle bartering my life.”
Bishop wanted that for her, too. He cleared his throat, suddenly clogged with emotion. “If Rancor is in our realm, what can we expect?”
Fyra shivered. “A swath of bodies? He’s not very clever when it comes to walking this realm. Usually why the other twelve keep him in the underworld. Bollocks, I suppose they’ll blame me for that, too.”
His mouth twitched at her use of “bollocks.” He’d expected something less…refined. “Would he be in a regular vampire or a prime?”
“Pssht. Prime, of course. They think too highly of themselves to go with a bloodline less than prime. To be fair, they’d probably sizzle the insides of a regular vamp.”
“How? They usually possess a host but anchor themselves to the underworld.” Otherwise, Bishop or his team could behead them in this realm and finish them.
She waved off his concerns. “Power. But Rancor’s a bit impulsive. Pure brutality got him promoted to the thirteen. I wouldn’t be surprised if he crossed completely into the poor bastard who volunteered himself up for a possessin’. He thinks he’s too superior to be killed.”
Bishop catalogued every detail to pass onto Demetrius and Calli. “But you can possess a human and use your powers.”
She leaned over the middle and whispered in his ear. “Genetic mutation.”
He bit down hard on his tongue because the urge to pull over and take her exploded. They were on the interstate heading north so he set the cruise control before erratic driving could garner undo attention.
She chuckled in a sexy purr. “It’s a second-tier trait. Circumstance of our heritage.” Leaning against the passenger window, she eyed him. “I have to say, I’m digging this whole sunlight-on-your-skin thing. You’re too happy of a guy to be cloaked in shadows.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Seriously, Bishop. That partner of yours, Rourke. Perma-frown. Meh, I’m sure he’s earned it. Demetrius, he pretends to be the life of the party, but I saw through the act. No wonder he’s the big shot in your world. Responsibility is branded onto his soul. Then there’s Creed. Serious rebellion, there.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“Haven’t you noticed? It’s like he tries to embody everything a prime’s not. Board shorts and Hawaiian shirt, shaggy hair.”
“He recycles like a tyrant.” Bishop swallowed hard at his revelation. What would make him chat about his friends to her? A small detail, but he didn’t know she wouldn’t capitalize on it.
Fyra laughed and it hit him in the nethers. Her voice was bottled sex. “None of that disposable-assets prime mentality. I get that. I want to trounce around being nice and handing out daisies just to piss the Circle off.”
His mouth twitched again, like it always wanted to smile around her. “Is that why you picked me then?”
Other than because he’d made himself a shamefully easy target.
“Because the others were downers? Sort of. You are genuinely nice to people. Like I said, must be my own rebellion. Your smiles are genuine, no hidden darkness. You are good.” She gestured the length of his body. “I never would’ve guessed you were hiding a…genetic mutation.”
To divert attention and continue harvesting her loquaciousness, he continued his questions. “Did you ever consider the females?”
“Of course. I don’t swing that way, but it’s been done before.”
He stifled a groan. Dude fantasies popped into his head.
“But Zohana’s got some shit going on,” she continued, “and I’m not just talking about with Creed.”
“What?”
She stared at him. “You can’t be serious. Those two have something going—bow-chicka-meow-meow.”
He would’ve laughed, but he was too stunned. He lived with Zoey and Creed. “Of course I knew, just surprised you did, too.”
“You’re a shit liar. Those two are bumping uglies—no, with their looks, I doubt their bits and pieces are something to shut my eyes on. Look closely next time. He looks at her with puppy-dog eyes, but she’s just using him for the entertainment. Lonely is my guess.”
Since they’d crash if he stared at her with his mouth hanging open, he settled for gaping out the windshield. Fyra couldn’t know Zoey had lost her true mate. How’d this demon read his team so well?
“Who does that leave?” She toed off her shoes and curled her legs under as best she could. “Oh, Ophelia. That girl’s got issues. Identity crisis, I’d say. What do humans call it? Short man syndrome, only short vampire syndrome. Understandable. A short prime vampire walking around is like a billboard for a shitty upbringing.”
He’d suspected as much. How Ophelia had been deprived of vital nutrients as a child from one of their upper-class families, he couldn’t guess. She’d developed into an admirable fighter, her mind razor sharp, but she was intensely private. She always took the assignments that’d take her away from the compound, so he hardly saw her.
“You seem to…notice…people really well.” More than really well.
“The key to surviving in the underworld.”
“Then how are you not in the Circle?”
He waited. When he glanced over, her mouth was set and the pain in her eyes was staggering.
“I’m sorry.” Why was he apologizing?
She shrugged, but all the life, that trait of hers that was really starting to grow on him, was gone. “It’s a living hell, what can I say.”
Had that been her mom’s goal? To make the underworld a decent place for the creatures down there?
It wasn’t much different than what he and Demetrius and the rest of the team had set out to do so many years ago. Remove the oppressive government to make the world a suitable place for all vampires to live. No longer would specific families dominate all the resources and determine punishment in an arbitrary manner.
It’d worked and they now had a central supernatural government. Normal vampire families were finding solid footing in the world. They cohabited with shifters and humans, and Demetrius and his team helped keep the peace.
Was Fyra dependable? When push came to shove, would she protect herself by throwing Bishop in the line of fire, or would she step up and fight for her people?
Chapter Nine
Fyra’s head vibrated against the window. Bishop wasn’t stopping, driving straight through
the day and night until they reached his compound. Where she’d be a prisoner.
Then what?
She couldn’t offer her mea culpa to Rancor and let him have at her. Because he would, and his legendary thirst for violence would be the end of her. Yet living in the earthly realm, locked up where Bishop planned to store her, wasn’t an option.
Then again, with her fire instability, she couldn’t run around, hiding herself. All her hiding spots would go up in flames, or at the very least, she’d be constantly setting off fire alarms.
Getting away from Bishop was proving impossible, too. He’d flashed into a moving vehicle. During the day. She’d lost her major advantage over the cold bastard.
Cold. Daylight.
She frowned and adjusted again to get comfortable enough to catch some z’s.
No. It was impossible. His people would’ve killed him by now.
Yet she and the rest of the underworld were the monsters.
On that thought, she drifted off, only to be plagued with her worst nightmare.
His apparition haunted her. The ultimate payback for killing Trance.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
He laughed at her. “Stupid Fyra. So trusting.”
She always felt two feet tall against his hulking mass. Of all the demons who’d been part of the Circle, he’d been the most humanoid. Tall, with a massive chest and shoulder span, thick thighs and two black horns protruding from his forehead, Trance had been good-looking-ish.
Foolish, to think getting with him would help her mom land Circle status while protecting Frya from the other twelve.
Instead, it’d killed her. Thanks to Fyra and her big mouth.
“My fault. All my fault.”
Her mother’s body, broken and torn, void of her head, which laid next to her. Her vibrant, lava-colored hair dulled with blackened blood. Her burnt-honey scent had overwhelmed Fyra. Where before it’d been her biggest comfort, now it flipped her stomach.
A sob tore from Fyra’s throat.
Trance hadn’t bothered to hide who’d done it. The bastard had even put his arm around her shoulders as she wailed at her mother’s feet.
Bishop (New Vampire Disorder Book 3) Page 8
