Take Back the Night (Blood Brothers Book 3)

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Take Back the Night (Blood Brothers Book 3) Page 2

by Annie Harland Creek


  “We both know that you were a pawn. Torke used my ex to kidnap you so he could get to me. If I had just left town after Dad’s funeral, you wouldn’t have been caught up in all this.”

  “If you’d left town, I wouldn’t have a best friend and you wouldn’t have married that gorgeous millionaire of yours.”

  Anna grinned. “Yeah, there is that. So. No arguments. You’re going to group counseling, you’re going to get better, and there will be no more talk of being an imposition. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She forced a smile but her heart flopped in her chest. Lord, give me the strength to get through this.

  ****

  As they entered the mansion and made their way to the living room, Susie noticed Derrick was not alone on the couch. Anna rushed to the gorgeous couple, giving them each a big hug as they rose to their feet.

  “When did you guys get home? Wait a minute. You weren’t due back for weeks.”

  “Something came up,” David informed her, turning his head to smile at Susie. “We can talk about it later.”

  Message received, loud and clear. Don’t upset the crazy lady. Susie knew it wasn’t meant to be disrespectful, more to spare her feelings. Besides, if there was another monster loose on the streets, she’d rather not know about it. Her fragile nerves couldn’t take any more. She decided to give them the opportunity to have their conversation in private.

  “If you guys don’t mind, I’m feeling a bit tired so I’m going to my room. Nice to have you back, Meaghan and David.” She didn’t wait for a reply, simply turning on her heels and hurrying away from the two newlywed couples. People who had found love despite the fact that all four were actually dead. Or was it undead? Whatever. Their nights were filled with lovemaking and staring into each other’s eyes while hers were filled with night terrors and memories of agonizing torture. She longed for someone to share her troubles with. Someone who would not feel guilty and blame themselves the way Anna did. Someone who would not believe her to be crazy if she trusted them enough to tell the real story of how she ended up in the hospital needing a blood transfusion. The hospital staff immediately called for a psych assessment after Derrick’s mind control had worn off and she remembered how she came to end up in the emergency room.

  She shook the idea from her head, changed into her PJs, and climbed into her bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. Even if she somehow managed to find a man who believed her, how could she trust him? As much as she cared for Anna and her family, she could not forget what they were and how they survived on blood. What if something happened to turn them feral? If she couldn’t trust them, how could she ever learn to trust a stranger?

  Chapter Three

  “Okay, spill.”

  Terry pushed his way past David and stood in the foyer of the mansion, trying to look unimpressed. When Meaghan had lived there undercover, she’d told him how extensive the grounds and property were, but hadn’t come close to describing the grandeur. So, this is how the other half lives?

  “Nice to see you too, Palmer. Why don’t you come in?”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He did a quick perusal of the foyer and turned his attention back to his employer. “You asked me to come straight over. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  David gestured toward the living room. “Meaghan and the others are waiting inside.”

  “After you.” Terry gestured back, hoping to get a better look at the house while walking behind the host.

  “You’re more than welcome to look around, Palmer, after I fill you in on my news.”

  Fuck! Terry growled under his breath. “Will you stay out of my head?”

  “Probably not.” David slapped his back. “So, you’d better get used to it.”

  “Terry!”

  Meaghan flew at him with open arms. “It’s so good to see you.”

  He hugged her back, apparently a little too long for her husband’s liking because he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head. Smiling at Meaghan, he lifted his finger behind her back, flipping David the bird.

  “Nice to see you boys getting along so well,” said the young woman on the couch who Terry recognized as Anna, Derrick’s wife. The pretty, copper-haired woman reached out and handed him a wineglass filled with red liquid. He sniffed the contents suspiciously.

  “Oh for goodness sake, it’s only wine,” Meaghan informed him with a shake of her head. “Will you please take a break from being a detective and just enjoy an evening out with friends?”

  Friends? He barely knew Anna and Derrick and, as for David … the guy may have saved his life but that hardly made him a friend. He’d stolen Meaghan’s heart, something Terry had never been able to accomplish despite their long history together. He sat in the nearest seat, not only for convenience, but because it gave him a clear view of his new friends and allowed him to watch all exits, just in case he needed to find a quick escape. After another sniff to confirm that the drink was indeed wine and not blood, he took a sip and grunted. Pretty good.

  “Okay, so what’s this big news that cut short your honeymoon?”

  “Anna had another premonition. She sensed evil heading this way on a larger scale than we’ve ever seen.”

  “Is that all?” Terry scoffed. “I’ve been on the force long enough to know there’s always been evil around here. What are we talking about? Ten, Twenty? Thir—”

  “Hundreds,” Anna interrupted. “Maybe thousands will be affected.”

  “Shit!” Terry shook his head and noticed Derrick’s stern expression. “Sorry, ladies.” He turned to Anna. “I wasn’t expecting those numbers. Are you sure?”

  Anna sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I can never be sure of my premonitions. Circumstances changes, fate intervenes. All I know for sure is that someone is planning a mass infection. Someone with an axe to grind. I feel what the person is doing is very personal. Revenge is the word that keeps popping into my head at the worst possible moments.”

  She turned her head toward her husband, grinned, and then dropped her chin a little when he winked. “Things are going to happen soon and fast. I feel it in my bones. Once it begins, the epidemic will gain momentum until we’re overrun.”

  Terry gulped down his glass of wine, frowning as he passed it to David for a refill. “Epidemic? Don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic? I mean, you guys are all vampires. Can’t you stop it?”

  Anna shook her head but it was her husband who answered.

  “Why do you think we called David and Meaghan back from their honeymoon? We’ve sent out an SOS to other covens. This is going to be big, Palmer. Bigger than we can handle on our own. A damn apocalypse.”

  “Apocalypse?”

  Terry turned toward the startled female voice and his heart missed a beat. He hadn’t seen the beautiful blonde since he’d first accepted the job working for David. If truth be told, she was part of the reason he’d taken the offer, hoping to run into her again. He’d thought her timid then but now, shaking in her pink pajamas and fluffy slippers, she looked positively terrified. Her voice trembled as she repeated her question.

  “Did you say apocalypse?” Her eyes glazed over and her already pale face turned a shade lighter. He rushed to her, catching her as her legs buckled, and helped her to the seat he had vacated. She nodded a thank you but remained silent as Anna asked if she remembered him from the office.

  “Yes. I remember,” she answered in a voice almost too quiet to perceive. “I’m sorry to have interrupted but … I just came out to get a glass of water from the kitchen and heard parts of your conversation.”

  “You’re perfectly safe here, Susie,” David told her. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You can’t protect me during the day,” she reminded him. Suddenly, she turned to Terry then back to David. “I mean…”

  “It’s all right, Susie. Terry knows what we are.”

  “Oh,” she replied before her middle two fingers disappeared into her mouth. When her chin dropped, Terr
y suspected she would likely remain silent for the rest of the conversation. As a detective, he’d seen victims of abuse retreat into their own thoughts. She was shutting them all out and he couldn’t blame her. David had explained how she had been kidnapped and tortured by vampires. Now she had this to deal with. Poor little mouse.

  ****

  Calm, blue ocean, calm, blue ocean. Susie repeated the mantra taught to her by her doctor, but the other word, the latest horror, kept intruding into her thoughts. Apocalypse. The end of the world. She wanted to get up from the chair and return to her room, her sanctuary, but her legs refused to cooperate. Mr. Palmer, who had been kind enough to prevent her from face planting, now crouched on the floor beside her. Too close. She wished he would move away. Far away. Far enough that she wouldn’t smell his cologne, the same cologne worn by Patrick, her blind date. The monster who’d kidnapped and ransomed her for a chance at eternal life. No, Susie. He can’t hurt you anymore. David killed him. She reminded herself. The truth made no difference. The memories remained, and although Terry Palmer seemed to be a lovely man, he was still too close for comfort. When she leaned away in her seat, his head snapped up and he rose to his feet to find a chair at the opposite side of the room. She sighed, realizing that she had been holding her breath and waited for the conversation to resume.

  Terry spoke first. “All right, let’s say I believe you. Does that mean I should be looking for people with strange-looking skin conditions or coughing up blood?”

  She noticed he winced when he looked in her direction, as if he expected her to faint. She threw her shoulders back and tried to look unaffected by his statement. All eyes turned to her and her heart sank. Have I really become that pathetic? Will the confident, happy Susie ever show her face again?

  “I’m not sure,” Anna answered. “I feel that at the beginning of the disease there will only be subtle changes. Personality changes. Black magic is devious. It sneaks up on the victim. Nothing in my premonitions suggests physical transformations. Not until the very end.”

  “That’s not much to go on.” Terry scratched his head and Susie felt a pang of pity for him. Azure Waters was a big town and he would be working the case alone during the day. How could he cover such a big area on his own? He wouldn’t be able to tell his police buddies that black magic was involved as that would expose him to ridicule. Her heart went out to him.

  “I’ll keep my ear to the ground while I tail my client’s husband,” he told the group as he rose from his seat, checking his watch. “Damn, I’m already late getting to his house.”

  Susie nodded her goodbye as he bid her good night. He turned to walk with David to the front door. The cotton shirt he wore strained across his broad shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist and hips that swayed a little when he walked. He had a confident stride. Almost a swagger. This man had seen evil in many forms and yet, rather than cower from it, he faced it head-on. She envied his conviction, his passion to save the world. A world that now terrified her.

  Chapter Four

  As he gulped down the last drop of his coffee, Terry noticed movement at the front door of the house across the street from where he had parked. Here we go. He checked his watch. About fucking time. He placed his empty thermos in the cup holder of his company car—another perk of the job—and pushed the starter button on the dashboard of the SUV while he waited for the suspect to back out of his driveway. The man appeared to be in no hurry.

  “Come on, come on. Get with the program.” Terry moaned, becoming increasingly agitated as the car slowly reversed onto the street. He’d barely slept the previous night during the stakeout and the thought of following at a snail’s pace added to his annoyance. How old was this guy? Ninety?

  Keeping at a safe distance, he followed the car out of the palm tree-lined, suburban street and into town where he parked half a dozen car spaces behind when the suspect pulled over. He waited until Mr. Whittaker alighted his vehicle and entered a red brick building before he left his own car and followed. The sign on the door was nondescript, only the number and street name. Terry made a note in his iPhone before entering. Inside, signage by the elevator informed him that this was a professional building used by medical people, two psychologists, a dermatologist, an immunologist, an addiction psychiatrist, and a cardiologist. Half the building remained unused, the rooms for advertised for lease. He struck three of the professions from his mental list. As far as Janice Whittaker had told him, her husband had no history of heart or allergy problems. That left the head-shrinkers. Addiction psychiatrist? Hmmm. Maybe Allan has been able to conceal a drug addiction after all. Third floor it is. He pressed the “up” arrow and waited for the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently on the tiled floor.

  Unexpectedly, the loud clap of his inexpensive leather sole hitting the vinyl was joined by a rhythmic pit-pat of heels as they came up behind him. A timid, melodic voice greeted him.

  “Hello, Mr. Palmer.”

  He turned to greet the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

  “Susie? I didn’t expect to see you here.” Not that I’m complaining. She was a sight for sore eyes and the main reason he’d lost sleep last night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He tugged at the collar of his buttoned shirt and cleared his voice. “Did David send you?”

  She lowered her chin and shook her head. “I have an appointment.”

  “I hope you’re not ill.” He considered the doctors on the notice board.

  Her face flushed with color. “No, not ill. It’s not really an appointment, I guess. I have a group session, I … look, Mr. Palmer. I’m don’t want to sound rude but … I’m not comfortable talking about it.”

  Terry held up his hands, palms facing her. “Sorry. Once a cop, always a cop. I tend to ask a lot of questions.”

  The elevator doors opened and he motioned for her to enter ahead of him. She smiled. It wasn’t much of a smile but enough to send a rush of blood to his cock. He wondered if there was a way to coax a bigger smile from those plump, bow-shaped lips. If there was, he’d make it a priority to find it. Something told him that it would be worth the effort.

  “What floor?” he asked after pressing the third for himself.

  “Fourth, please,” she mumbled, staring at her shoes. She continued to gaze at her feet until they stopped at his floor. He reluctantly stepped out, holding the doors open with his hands as he asked if she would like a lift home after she finished her meeting.

  “No thank you, Mr. Palmer. Anna has a car waiting for me.”

  “Terry. Please call me Terry,” he reminded her, positive that he’d mentioned that at every one of their previous meetings. “I hope we run into each other again soon.” He managed to get the words out before the doors shut, ending the conversation.

  ****

  All right. Where the hell did you go? Unable to locate Allan Whittaker in the addiction specialist’s room, he’d checked out all the rooms on Level Three without success. Could Allan be with the doctor? No. He’d been close behind, too close to lose him so quickly. The conversation with Susie had been short and sweet but not in the usual sense. Her answers had been short, yet there was a sweetness about her that intrigued him.

  “Are you looking for the group session?” the gruff voice behind him asked, shocking him back to reality. Not good, Palmer. Never let down your guard. The elderly man beside the open office door struck what he appeared to believe was a menacing pose. He stood, hands on hips, glaring over a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. Terry let out an audible sigh. Damn it, man. How can you be so careless as to attract attention?

  “Yes. The group session. I forgot where it was being held.” He smiled as he lied through his teeth, hoping that he could charm his way out of the situation.

  “One floor up,” snapped the man, obviously annoyed to have been interrupted. “Third room on the left.”

  “Much obliged.” Terry nodded in thanks as he beat a hasty retreat to the elevator. Geez. That guy needed group therapy or possibly
anger management classes. So, fourth floor it is. At least he may get the opportunity of running into Susie. Another glimpse of her would improve his afternoon.

  Following asswipe’s instructions, he got off at the next floor and turned left, making his way down the corridor. The third room had its chairs arranged in a circle. Fifteen butts occupied seats. Big group. A bespectacled dark-skinned woman who looked to be in her mid-forties sat with a notebook on her lap, facing sideways to him. He kept out of her line of vision, peering through an opening in the door. Aha. Allan Whittaker sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead while a petite, elderly woman with silver hair talked about her encounter with a mugger. Whatever had Allan’s attention had nothing to do with the old lady. There was no reaction at all from him, even when she burst into tears. While the others in the group all offered their sympathies, he remained stony-faced and emotionless. What’s going on in that brain? The screech of chair legs on the wooden floor made him shudder and he turned in the direction of the sound. A blonde woman, who had her back to Terry, offered the sobbing lady a box of tissues. The bounce of her golden locks made his heart thud against the wall of his chest. Susie?

  ****

  Susie extended the tissues to the sobbing woman. She wanted to offer words of encouragement, words of hope to the frail, little woman, but she had none. Evil thrived in this town. More evil than dear old Mrs. Short could comprehend. If the elderly lady was lucky, the mugging would be the worst thing that ever happened to her. If not? Susie closed her eyes tight and sent up a silent prayer. Let this be the worst thing.

  A lump formed in her throat, threatening to choke her, or, at the very least, steal her voice. She knew that Dr. Dubois expected her to share her feelings with the group, discuss her own reason for attending therapy. How could she? No one would believe her. She’d be locked away in a nuthouse. The story she’d fabricated for the doctor was nothing compared to the horror of the weeks she’d suffered, chained in the abandoned warehouse. She’d lied, saying that the trauma of being kidnapped had caused her mind to shut down, block out most of what had happened. If only that were true. She remembered every detail. Every bite to her flesh. Every threat to her body. A shudder ran through her and she dropped the box of tissues.

 

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