Diana's Hound: Bloodhounds, Book 4

by Moira Rogers

  “So what’s your in?”

  Nate finally found a smile. “Your incompetence, as a matter of fact.”

  The corner of Archer’s mouth twitched. “Glad I’m good for something.”

  “Mmm. As it turns out, when you were wiping the vampire menace from Crystal Springs, you missed one. And this clever—if recently sired—vampire managed to escape not only with his own hide, but with a female bloodhound as well.”

  “A hound who’d fetch a pretty price at a slave auction.”

  “And as pretty as she is, they’re certain to believe a weak young vampire would prefer the coin to a companion likely to end his life. Especially when that coin could buy him a comfortable afterlife and a dozen pretty pets who aren’t a danger to his health.”

  Archer rubbed his chin. “As cons go, it’s risky. Not much room for a backup plan, and you have to play your part and play it well.”

  Nate clapped Archer on the shoulder. “Why do you think he sent me to you? You’ve a devious sort of mind, not to mention experience undercover in the Deadlands.”

  “And you expect me to teach you such brilliance over the course of a few hours?”

  Yes, this was what made Archer exasperating and entertaining in turns, the infuriating mixture of arrogance and irreverence. “I’m beginning to doubt that your Miss Linwood is entirely of sound mind. I can’t imagine how any woman could tolerate your insufferable bullshit.”

  “Says the man with a hard-on for a bloodhound, of all things.”

  “Because who could ever find one of you appealing?”

  Archer gestured toward the door of the closest house with a flourish. “Don’t rightly know. Why don’t you come inside and ask Grace?”

  Nate wasn’t sure what he expected. He’d only caught a few glimpses of Grace Linwood the last time he’d visited Crystal Springs, and had barely conversed with her. He’d assumed she was nothing more than a starry-eyed schoolteacher, and that Archer was another jaded man fallen victim to adoration wrapped in innocence.

  But the woman who greeted Archer with a kiss was no sweet innocent. She had a worldly edge that her neat, modest dress couldn’t hide, as well as a sharp gaze Nate had managed to overlook when they’d met. Of course, given the fact that she’d been naked in a bed with Archer at the time, Nate had been trying very hard to overlook a great many things.

  If Grace remembered the awkwardness of their first encounter, she seemed unbothered by it. She reached out to clasp his hand with a smile. “It’s such an honor to see you again. I couldn’t believe it when Archer told me that his friend Nate was actually Nathaniel Powell. The Nathaniel Powell.”

  It wasn’t the usual reaction he got, especially from pretty young women. He looked to Archer for help as he stumbled through a response. “Uh, thank you. Yes.”

  Archer shook his head with a laugh and poured two glasses of whiskey. “Grace follows your work. Apparently, your weapons are quite popular with underworld traders.”

  Nate blinked at Grace, utterly taken aback. “You’re involved with black-market weapons smuggling?”

  “Not anymore. These days I teach school.” She grinned at him as she took his hat and coat. “Though I won’t deny that the thought has crossed my mind of late. Crystal Springs needs money to rebuild, and I am familiar with the market. It’s a pity I’d have a hard time sneaking past the town’s lawman, seeing as how I sleep with him every night.”

  “That you would, love.” Archer dropped his hat on the back of a chair and picked up his glass. “Diana’s off with Samuels. I reckon she’ll be along shortly.”

  Grace made an annoyed noise, and Nate decided to like her. Especially when she said, “He certainly didn’t waste any time, for all the good it will do him.”

  “A man never knows if he doesn’t try,” Archer said mildly, but with a meaningful look at Nate.

  Nate took the silent rebuke without comment. Instead, he changed the topic back to the task at hand. “While you were working the Deadlands, did you ever hear rumors of a bloodhound allied with vampires?” A pointed sort of question, since Archer himself had struck a devil’s bargain with the vampire who’d turned Nate.

  And Archer didn’t shy away from it. “You mean besides me?”

  No, there was nothing sweet and innocent about Grace. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a protective edge sharp enough to flay skin from bones. “You weren’t allied with vampires. You followed the instructions of your Guild and they left you to take the blame for their folly.”

  The world had become a truly terrifying place when Nate couldn’t open his mouth without enraging a woman, but Archer was happily in love. “My apologies,” Nate murmured. “I wasn’t implying—”

  “I know exactly what you were implying,” she interrupted. “You’re not a man accustomed to having to shield his thoughts and feelings, and I can read yours like an open book.”

  Archer laid a hand on her arm. “Relax, honey. Nate and I understand each other.” He arched an eyebrow. “I heard rumors of hounds working with vampires, of course. I also heard rumors of Martians landing a craft out in the desert in preparation for invasion, but I wouldn’t put any stock in it.”

  Nate frowned. “There was at least one rogue hound around these parts—Diana is proof of that. But if you never heard any rumors more substantial than the usual wild tales…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t add up. The sort of skill it takes to avoid notice is incompatible with the carelessness of killing humans during the full moon. How many unregulated bloodhounds can there be?”

  “No clue. I don’t have the answers you want.” Archer held up one finger. “But I know who might—a fellow named Jonah Knight. He owns a, uh, hotel of sorts in Eternity. The Black Lily.”

  “Of sorts?” Surely if Archer had meant a brothel, he would have said as much. A woman who had traded in illegal, modified weapons couldn’t be that easily shocked.

  But Grace was frowning too. “Whose tender sensibilities are you worried about, love? His or mine?”

  “His, of course.” Archer groaned reluctantly. “It’s a private club. Sex and blood, but not for sale.”

  It took Nate a moment too long to understand, and when he finally did the words tripped out of his mouth, laced with disbelief. “You’re sending us to a private sex club?”

  Chapter Four

  It took Diana three hours, a multitude of decreasingly gentle hints and finally one ugly argument before Jesse stopped pleading his suit.

  He wanted to drive her back to town, but with his unpleasant accusations still ringing in her ears, the ground itself would have had to be aflame before she’d have considered it. And she still might have punched him in the face and walked.

  She kicked a clod of dirt and slipped her hand into the hidden pocket on her dress, closing her hand around the hilt of her favorite knife. The cadre of vampires that had terrorized Crystal Springs had been eliminated, but she knew better than to let herself grow complacent, especially this close to dusk.

  She wanted a drink. She wanted a headache powder.

  And more than anything, to her unending consternation, she wanted Nate Powell.

  Grace met her at the edge of town as if she’d been waiting for her. “Diana.”

  “Grace.” Seeing her friend washed away the irritation, and Diana grinned. “I’m sorry it took so long to get away. Jesse’s a very determined man.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Grace hugged her tight, then pulled back to study her. “You look no worse for the trouble, though. It seems as if it’s been forever since I saw you.”

  Had it truly been less than a month? Diana could scarcely believe it. “You look radiant.”

  Grace flushed a charming pink, and even managed to look happy doing that. “You wouldn’t think two former criminals would have so much fun playing at being respectable, but it suits us. As long as we get to be ourselves when we’re alone together.”

  “I’m glad. How have things been?”

  Grace linked their arms
together and steered her toward the saloon. “As well as can be expected. The rich aren’t coming back, which has been a bit of a blessing. The survivors have their pick of fine houses, and everyone’s helped the farmers with the end of the harvest. But the real boon has been Archer’s fellow bloodhounds. They’ve been stopping here and trading coin and goods for rest and companionship.”

  It made sense, Diana supposed. The town had been a safe haven for her, and now it could be the same for other bloodhounds, the ones who’d drifted far from the Guild. “I’ve been spending my time letting other hounds punch me in the face. Remarkably, the job of rebuilding sounds even less fun than that.”

  “You know, I don’t mind it,” Grace said. “I’ve spent so much of my life managing people, and it’s simply more of that. Except instead of manipulating them into giving up what’s precious to them, I’m urging them to work toward a common goal to benefit us all. It feels good.”

  “Then we’re both happy.” Only a little lie on Diana’s part. She relished the new challenges she’d found in Iron Creek, and she was happier than she’d ever been…but she wasn’t as euphoric as Grace. “Where’d Archer run off to?”

  “Oh, he and Mr. Powell are discussing things too illicit for a lady’s ears.” Grace wrinkled her nose. “I left to put Mr. Powell out of his misery. I was afraid he’d have a fit at the thought of discussing frank sexual matters with me in the room.”

  “He’s reserved, that’s all,” Diana said absently. “What in blazes are they talking about?”

  “Contacts in the Deadlands. It seems the vampire you’re meant to meet runs a very exclusive, very carnal sort of establishment.”

  “I see.” The last place Nate would want to visit with her in tow. “Does Archer think it a suitable place for us—I mean, for me to pass the new moon?”

  “Yes, I heard that much. He thinks the owner is predictable and dependable, if not exactly trustworthy. More interested in hedonism than violence.”

  Diana wondered if he’d also told Nate there would be men there who would entertain her company. “Then we can kill two birds with one stone. Specialized lodgings and information.”

  “Mmm.” Grace pulled her to a stop in the shadow of the saloon. “Diana, are you sure going into the Deadlands with him is wise? I know better than anyone how capable you are of caring for yourself, and I know he’s a legend when it comes to creating weapons. But if you’re not careful, he’ll give away any ruse. He can’t keep his feelings for you out of his eyes.”

  Oh, God preserve her. “He’s been reading Doc’s journals. He feels sorry for me.” Diana had to look away. “He’s also been saddled anew with the libidinous impulses of a man half his age. The two things are unrelated, trust me.”

  Grace sighed. “If you say so. But I’ve never known you to hide from hard truths.”

  Diana managed a shrug, but the smile she attempted wouldn’t come. “It just so happens, that is the hard truth.”

  “Oh.” Grace closed her arms around her, a gesture of comfort and support. “I’m sorry. You’ve always been able to keep everything out of your eyes.”

  Because she had to, now more than ever. “I’m all right. I’ll be fine.”

  “You promise. Promise me, Diana.” Grace’s embrace turned desperate. “And if you need help, you send for it. Your best friend is a professional liar mated to a bank-robbing bloodhound.”

  “I swear to send word if we need you.” If they had a chance in hell of arriving in time. If it wasn’t too dangerous. If. “Now, I want a drink.”

  Grace let it drop and stepped back with a smile. “Are you sure you’re prepared for the saloon? I moved all the girls to the banker’s house, and Cecil and Cook have turned the saloon into an inn.”

  “A respectable establishment?” Diana affected a shudder. “How could they?”

  “Well, it’s not entirely respectable.” Grace pulled open the door to reveal even more bright, garish lights than had been there the last time.

  And there, right in the middle of the damn room, stood Nate. He stared at her, both eyebrows up. “Diana.”

  “Nate.” Her pulse quickened, something he could surely hear.

  Perhaps everyone else could too. Nate stared at her in silence as Archer shifted uncomfortably. Even the handful of people milling about the dining room seemed to quiet.

  Finally, Grace choked on a laugh. “Come, Diana. Did you want a drink or not?”

  “Whiskey,” she answered, keeping her gaze locked with Nate’s. “It’s been a long day.”

  He looked away first. “We almost came looking for you when you didn’t return. I wondered if you’d found someplace else to pass the evening.”

  It stung. “I had an offer. I prefer the whiskey.”

  “I see.” Only two words, but he almost seemed pleased.

  Archer eyed them with interest, and Diana bared her teeth at him before accepting a glass from Grace. “Don’t worry, Nate. I’m not getting distracted. I’ll be ready to ride on first thing in the morning.”

  Grace pursed her lips and propped her hands on her hips, the same posture that always preceded her wrangling misbehaving school children. “Why don’t we all sit down? I’ll pop into the back and let Cook know you’re here, Diana. She prepared your favorite.”

  Diana drained half her drink before sliding into the chair Archer pulled out for her. “Thank you.”

  “A peace offering,” he answered. “So you don’t bite me when you find out.”

  “About our destination?” She absolutely couldn’t look at Nate, not with a good ounce of whiskey already humming through her veins. “I heard.”

  Nate was staring straight ahead again, but this time he was doing a damn good job of staring through her. “Having a place to stay where we can trust our host—to some extent, in any case—will decrease the risk of our endeavor. It’s dangerous enough to go out and about in a city like Eternity as it is.”

  “Agreed.” She finished her drink and turned to Archer. “Will your friend be able to help me make arrangements for the new moon?”

  He paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, his ears turning red. “Everyone there will be aware of your nature and wholly dedicated to the pursuit of physical pleasure. I doubt you’ll lack for companionship.”

  Nate glowered, and a muscle in his jaw jumped. So he didn’t like that—presumably because she could be hurt, Heaven forbid, or because he still pictured her as the mostly innocent young widow painted in Doc’s journals.

  “Good,” she found herself saying. “The more the merrier, right?”

  Archer spewed whiskey across the table.

  “Good heavens.” Grace reappeared, a bewildered look on her face. “Archer?”

  He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and wheezed out a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up.” He lunged out of his chair and headed for the bar.

  Grace hovered, clearly torn between staying to protect Diana and following Archer to find out what was going on.

  “It’s all right,” Diana murmured. “A poorly timed joke, that’s all.”

  “All right,” Grace said reluctantly. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She turned toward the bar, and Nate watched her go before glaring at Diana, his eyes darkly dangerous. “Well, you got a reaction out of one of us.”

  His control infuriated her. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Count yourself fortunate, love. You don’t want a reaction out of me.”

  Oh, but she did. A smile, a groan, a sigh—she’d even take a scream as long as that composure cracked. “So you’ve said, more than once. Though perhaps not so plainly.”

  “Then perhaps plain is what’s required.” He rose and tucked his chair neatly under the table. “Give my regrets to your friend, but as I don’t need to eat food, I prefer to retire for the evening.”

  She wanted to argue, apologize, even ask him to stay, so she bit her lip and nodded. “Understood.”

  He started to
turn away, but hesitated. “Will you be staying here tonight?”

  For all she knew, someone had moved into her old house. “All my things are here.”

  A nod. “They gave me a room upstairs. I suppose I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Before she could say anything, he was gone.

  Cook came out to greet her, as did Cecil, and the two of them served dinner while Grace kept up a steady flow of conversation. Diana ate, but barely tasted the roast. She spoke, but really didn’t know what about. It upset her even more, that her thoughts lingered so strongly on Nate that she couldn’t even enjoy visiting with her oldest friends.

  When the clock struck nine, she excused herself and climbed the stairs. The lamps had been dimmed, and she trailed her hand along the wall as she made her way down the hall.

  Which one was Nate’s? The room just before the far end of the hall was the nicest, and Diana found herself pausing in front of the door, contemplating an apology.

  The door snapped open, leaving her staring at Nate.

  Shirtless, rumpled Nate.

  Half-naked, tousled Nate.

  Diana stared at the spot just above his left nipple. She told herself to look away, but there was no safe place for her gaze to rest. The flat of his stomach, the dark hair curling over his chest—even his collarbone was sin, standing out in tempting relief. She wanted to rub her thumb across it and up, up to the pulse that pounded in his throat.

  His low, tortured groan split the silence in the hallway as his fingers sank into her hair. He pulled her forward to crash against that broad, solid chest, and his mouth landed on hers. Rough, deep, a kiss that held nothing of sweet coaxing and everything of guilty desire.

  For an endless frozen moment, she couldn’t move. All she could do was struggle to catch up, to reconcile what was happening with her expectations.

  He didn’t kiss like he was horny and she was there. He devoured her, slanting his mouth over hers like he was dying of hunger and she was his only sustenance. Diana whimpered in the back of her throat and touched him, her palms flattening against his chest.

  His mouth opened, and sharp teeth—sharp fangs—dug into her lower lip. Starving, she thought dimly. But was that him or her? She pressed closer with a moan, close enough to feel him through her clothes, hard and aroused and—