“What assurance do I have that you won’t kill the both of us?”
“He agreed to meet you in a public place of your choosing.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I ponder what she’s told me. A public place, and I can bring Elijah. Why the hell not? “I want you to be there, too, and your husband, but no one else.”
“Agreed.”
“We’ll meet at Jane’s place tonight. Ten o’clock.”
“Is she open that late?”
“She will be.” I push to my feet. “Is that all?”
“No,” she says. “Tell me about Beatrice Smith.”
Begrudgingly, I take my seat. “She was a witch, and I believe she was killed for her magic.”
“You think someone stole her power? Is that even possible?”
“I do, and according to my source, it is.”
“And just who is this source?”
My current boyfriend’s ex-fiancée. Somehow, I doubt telling her all of that will go over very well. If she has ties to other supernaturals, finding out there’s a fae in the city will start a mass panic. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”
“You’re sure it was supernatural?”
“I am.”
“And Ramirez?”
“He has no clue about this world, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
She nods. “Let me know if you need my help. I’m happy to step in when needed.”
“Will do.” I stand again.
“See you tonight, Astor.”
I leave without another word, my brain running like a hamster on a wheel. My captain is a human with extensive knowledge of supernaturals.
She’s married to a shifter, and his pack leader has information that might be relevant to me.
Can he tell me who killed Delaney?
Who’s trying to kill me?
By the time I reach my desk, Ramirez is already walking in, his wife beside him. She has a Tupperware container in her hand and smiles widely when she sees me.
“Rainey!”
“Hey, Kamie.” I force a smile despite everything going on. Kamie Ramirez is the sweetest human on the planet.
“I brought you these.” She holds out the plastic, so I take it and smile down at the chocolate chip cookies inside. Kamie may be the sweetest human on the planet, but she is also a notoriously bad cook. Still, not wanting to hurt her feelings, I take one out anyway and bite down.
“Thank you so much. This is delicious,” I lie. In reality, my tongue burns from what I can only guess is too much baking soda.
She beams at me. “You’re welcome. Rammy said you were going through a rough time, and I wanted to come down and tell you how sorry I am in person.” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes gently.
“Thanks.”
Kamie releases me and steps back. I throw a glance at Ramirez to let him know the Rammy nickname is not going anywhere. The two have been married for nearly two decades, and they still have nicknames.
It’s adorable.
I love it, but I’m still going to torment him for it because he’d do the same to me.
“Well, I’ll let you two get to work.” She reaches out and covers my hand. “Please, let me know if you need anything. Love you, Rammy.”
“Love you too.”
With a smile, she turns and leaves the precinct. I glance over at Ramirez, who’s taking his seat. “So, Kamie and Rammy, huh?”
I make my way up the walk to Elijah’s house, each step making my stomach twist into knots. I know he’s in there, waiting for me. I can feel him as though he were right beside me, a constant presence.
The door opens before I reach it, and Elijah grins at me. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though, but before I can ask why, he’s gripping the back of my neck and slamming his mouth to mine. Heat radiates through me, saturating every inch of my body as his lips—feverish on mine—devour me.
Finally, he releases me and steps back to shut the door.
“Well, I have to say that is the best welcome home I’ve ever gotten,” I say with a smile. “What is that delicious smell?” I ask, inhaling deeply, my mouth watering in response to my growling stomach.
“Dinner.”
“You made me dinner?”
He shrugs. “I had some extra time.”
Like the gentleman he is during the daylight hours, Elijah helps me slip out of my jacket before hanging it on a hook near the door. Then, he takes my hand, and we walk down the hall together.
“I’m starving. All I had today were Skittles.”
He shakes his head in disapproval. “I assumed that would be the case.”
“Don’t tell her when you see her next, but I’m starting to think Jane might be right.”
“About?”
“Skittles aren’t an actual meal.”
Elijah chuckles. “I would be afraid to learn how many of your meals over the years have passed with nothing but Skittles.”
“Yeah, you really don’t want to know.” We emerge in the dining room, and I gape at the spread he’s arranged on the table. “Damn, Elijah! How much time did you have?” French bread, fresh Caesar salad, and two plates piled high with spaghetti sit on his table, each complemented by a glass of red wine and a white napkin with bright silverware.
“After I did some reading, I went to the market to get groceries. Do you like spaghetti?”
I turn back to him and smile. He’s actually nervous, and it’s adorable. “Spaghetti just so happens to be my second favorite food group. Behind Skittles, of course.”
Elijah smiles. “Of course.”
Once I’ve washed my hands, I take a seat at the table, and Elijah sits beside me. “I feel a bit underdressed,” I admit, drinking in his dark slacks and light blue button-down.
“You look beautiful.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I slip my napkin into my lap. After spinning the noodles onto my fork, I take my first bite and have to force myself not to moan in complete foodgasm. It’s absolutely delicious, and since I’m a hopeless cook—seriously, Kamie could cook me under the table—I more than appreciate the taste of a home-cooked meal.
“Good?”
I nod and swallow the oversized bite. “Best spaghetti ever. Did you make the sauce?”
He nods. “And the noodles.”
“I’m sorry, you made the noodles? As in, they didn’t come from a box?”
“I spent some time in Italy in the 1920s, learned everything I know about this particular genre of food from an older human woman who gave me shelter before I was able to day-walk.”
“You are probably the most modest vampire ever.”
Elijah chuckles. “I’ve lived a long time, Rainey. I was bound to pick up a talent or two.”
“I’d say you picked up more than one or two.”
His heated gaze meets mine as he takes the double meaning of my words. There’s not a damn being on the planet—human or supernatural—who can give the kind of pleasure Elijah can. Hell, just thinking of it sends a steady throb to life between my legs.
His gaze drops to my lips, and my mouth goes dry. I thought my reaction to him would be dulled some now that I’ve had a piece of that particular pie. Instead, it’s had the opposite effect. Now that I’ve tasted him, I need more.
And another slice won’t do the trick.
I want the whole fucking pie.
Crossing my legs, I attempt to ease some of the ache. There’s work to be done tonight, and sex is not on the table yet.
Maybe after we get back from Jane’s.
A few minutes pass in silence as we eat, enjoying the delicious meal Elijah worked hard to prepare. Now that he confessed the noodles are handmade as well, I can taste the difference, and I’m just not sure I can go back to the grocery store kind.
Not that I did a whole lot of cooking before because, as I mentioned, I’m hopeless in the kitchen. I’m more likely to burn it down than prepare anything more than a Pop-Tart.
Elijah lifts his glass an
d takes a drink before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I missed you today.”
I glance over and smile. “I missed you too.”
“How was your day?”
“Not as productive as I would have hoped. We still haven’t been able to figure out who killed that witch, Beatrice.”
“I thought you believed it was the one who attacked me? Stella said she was trying to steal the magic of other witches.”
“I do, but Ramirez and I haven’t been able to tie her to any of it. It would be easier if we had a body.”
“Tarnley is good at his job.”
“He is,” I agree. “Though it makes solving it a lot more difficult. Even with her ID and cell phone number, I haven’t been able to tie her to Beatrice in any way, shape, or form.” I shove my plate away, completely full. “There was something else.”
“What?”
Clearing my throat, I take a drink of my wine. “My captain pulled me in to speak with me.”
“About?”
“Well, apparently, she’s known what I am for the last two years.”
His face transforms, going from relaxed to agitated so damned fast I barely notice the change. “Were you attacked? What type of supernatural is she?”
“None, she’s human.” At his confused stare, I chuckle. “Trust me, it was as much of a surprise to me as it just was to you.”
“How does she know about you then?”
“She’s married to a shifter.”
Elijah raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair. “Interesting.”
“What’s even more interesting is what she told me after that little revelation.”
Eyebrow raised, he crosses both arms over his chest. “Which was?”
“Her husband’s pack leader wants to meet with us tonight.”
“Us?”
“I told her I wasn’t coming alone.”
He nods appreciatively. “I appreciate that.”
“I don’t always dive headfirst into tunnels, Elijah,” I joke, referencing the vampire nest I walked right into less than a month ago. “I may be perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel better knowing you’re watching my back.”
“Good to know.” He smiles and stands, taking both of our plates to the kitchen. “Did she tell you why he wants to meet? Or what pack he belongs to?”
I shake my head and follow, carrying the salad bowl and my wine glass. “She only told me that he has some information for me.”
“Where are we meeting them?”
“Jane’s coffee shop tonight at ten.”
“Why did you choose Jane’s?”
“Seemed like a good place to not get ambushed since I know her.”
“Smart.”
“Sometimes I can be,” I joke. “Let me help.” I walk around the island and start helping him to clear the plates and load them into a stainless-steel dishwasher. “Did you find anything interesting while you were reading?”
“No. There’s no mention of any ancient box or the Lunar Divide in any of the journals I scoured today.”
“Would your ancestors have known about it?”
“Something that big? They should have. And a few of the texts I read were written by witches.”
“I wish I knew how Delaney found out about it. Stella said she was the one who told her. Doesn’t that seem strange to you? That there’s this massive murder plot, and it was a hunter who discovered it?”
“It does,” he agrees, turning off the water and handing me a towel to dry my hands. “I’ve tried retracing Delaney’s steps—what I knew of them—and I can’t figure out how the hell she would have uncovered something like this.”
“Maybe when she found the box?”
“But where did she find it? As far as I knew, she never traveled.”
“She went back to Salem at least once a year after our grandmother was killed,” I tell him. “She always said she was paying respects to her and our parents. Since I’ve never seen the point in visiting the site where a body is buried, I never went with her.”
“So perhaps the box was hidden somewhere in Salem?”
I shrug and jump up to sit on the counter. “Would make sense. Salem is witch central. Here in the States, at least. I do know they originated in Ireland.”
At my last addition, he nods. “We need to figure out where the hell she found that box.”
“I don’t suppose you sent the cleaners in to take care of my grandmother’s bunker?”
He cringes and shakes his head. “I trust Tarnley, but I wasn’t about to send a bunch of supernaturals into your family’s estate without your approval.”
“You trust him?”
Elijah nods.
“Inexplicably?”
Again, he nods.
“Then do it.”
“You’re sure? Your family’s texts—”
“I trust you, Elijah. The wards were broken when Doloris came barreling in, so the place should be accessible. Just ask him to only take people he can trust. Anyone steals anything, and I’ll poke them with something sharp.”
My phone buzzes, so I lift up slightly to pull it out of my back pocket. Jane’s picture flashes on the screen, so I answer quickly. “Hey, Jane, what’s up?”
“I’m checking to make sure you had a proper dinner so I can either cook for you or let you have the beverage of your choice tonight.”
I grin. “Actually, Elijah fed me quite well.”
“Fed you what? Dick doesn’t count as dinner, Rainey.”
Elijah turns bright red and steps away as he stifles a laugh.
“First of all, depends on the dick.”
“That would bring a whole new meaning to ‘meatballs’.”
I laugh and shake my head. She won’t use the word ‘fuck’ but she’ll talk about meatballs all damn day. “Second, he made me homemade spaghetti. We’re talking fresh noodles and sauce.”
Jane groans into the phone. “That sounds delicious.”
“It was. There are some leftovers. Want me to bring you some?”
“I think I spent enough time feeding you, it’s only fair if you feed me now and then.”
“You’ve got it.”
“When are you guys coming?”
I check the clock over the microwave. “Leaving here in about twenty minutes or so.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few.” I end the call and meet Elijah’s concerned gaze. He stands across from me, leaning back against the counter, both arms crossed over his chest.
“We could be walking into a trap.”
“Possibly.”
“And if we are?”
I hop down off the counter. “Then we kill them all.”
14
Rainey
Jane’s closed light is illuminated, but I pay it no mind as I step up and knock on the glass door bearing her logo. She glances up from where she’s sweeping and smiles. The lightness of it makes me feel like shit for invading her space like this.
Especially when I have no way of knowing how it’s going to go.
“Hey, guys!” she greets with a bright smile as she pulls open the door.
“Hey, thanks again for doing this.” I step all the way inside and offer her a plastic container of what I now have dubbed Elijah’s magic noodles.
“All is forgiven now that I have this.” She grins and holds up the container. “Hey, Elijah.”
“Jane.” His tone is curt, all business, and I imagine his stress level is through the roof right now.
“Do you guys want any coffee?” Jane asks.
“Sure.” I drape my coat over the back of a chair and walk toward the counter to help her prep it. Elijah stays put near the door, watching for any activity outside. Every muscle in his body is tense, his jaw hard.
Jane clears her throat. “So, I know you can’t give me all the details—police business and all—but can you at least tell me if there’s going to be any trouble?”
“I don’t know,” I rep
ly honestly as she pours a scoop of coffee grounds into the filter. “More than likely, it will go peacefully. Captain Reynolds is coming, and she’s bringing her husband.”
“Paloma is coming?” Jane’s face lights up. “I haven’t seen her since your Christmas party last year.”
To everyone’s surprise, Jane hit it off with my no-nonsense captain. They spent the entire night elbows deep in spiked eggnog while reminiscing over the seventies. Which was weird since Jane wasn’t even born then, but who am I to judge the decade someone loves?
“She is,” I confirm.
Jane slides a stainless-steel pot beneath the drip and steps back, leaning against the counter and watching Elijah. “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”
“Not particularly.” Turning my focus to Elijah, I drop my tone. It’s all for show, of course, since he can hear every single word. “But he has a nice ass,” I tell Jane, smiling when his mouth quirks ever so slightly.
She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s the accent, isn’t it? You’ve always had a thing for the accent.”
I shrug. “I have no shame about that.”
Jane squeezes my arm gently, and I don’t miss the sadness that travels over her face. It’s brief, but it’s there. “You are such an awesome person. Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t, promise.”
“We’re about to have company,” Elijah informs us as he unlocks the door and pulls it open.
Captain Reynolds and her husband—a tall, muscular man, rocking hair as long as Elijah’s and a beard down to his collarbone, step in first. They’re followed by an older man with silver hair. He’s muscled, and both arms are heavily tattooed. Unlike my captain’s husband though, his sharp jaw is clean-shaven.
“Rainey Astor,” he says lightly, his smile reaching all the way to his dark eyes. “So nice to meet you.”
“We can sit over here,” I say, walking toward the table in the corner.
“I’ll bring over coffee when it’s ready!” Jane calls cheerfully. “Hi, Paloma.”
My captain smiles, a kind gesture I’ve only ever seen turned toward my friend. “Jane, good to see you.”
We all take seats with Elijah and Captain Reynolds flanking me, the pack leader beside Elijah, and the captain’s husband beside her. Not wanting to waste any time, or risk Jane overhearing anything, I lean in. “We need to keep this as quiet as possible. Jane has no knowledge about this world, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
Blood Captive: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 2) Page 12
