“Don’t worry. I plan on being my normal, problematic self very shortly. I’ve just been thinking… wondering if maybe there isn’t some sort of connection. One that goes deeper than we realize. Not just Pulaski getting boys from the kiddie ring from time to time, but all of it.” He studied Rafe, his eyes shrewd. “Angel was out at my place, talking about shit. We’ve got a pedophile who disappears into the wind. Witches hiding magic they shouldn’t be able to hide from us. All this crazy shit, that tells me there’s something else going on. Things are connected, Rafe. I’m starting to feel it in my gut.”
Rafe scowled. “Having Angel out at your place doesn’t count for much. It’s Angel, for fuck’s safe.”
“That’s true.” Toronto shrugged. “It may not count for anything.”
As their gazes met, Rafe felt it, though. That low-level burn. Shit. He was lying to himself if he tried to believe this wasn’t any sort of connection. And Toronto knew it, too.
“W
AKEY, wakey…”
That voice was an annoying, nagging buzz in Sylvia’s ears. She didn’t want to wakey, wakey.
She wanted to sleep. Needed to sleep.
The sun’s pull was still a drug in her system and she couldn’t fight—
A wine-rich scent flooded the air.
Sylvia cracked one eye open, then the other and adrenaline tried to flood her body. It did burn away some of the sleepy fog in her brain, but not all of it. Sylvia didn’t know how much fight she’d have in her for the next few minutes, but the woman sitting across her from wouldn’t need that much.
After all, Angel was still mostly human— how much trouble could she be?
A smile flirted around Angel’s mouth. “You’d be surprised.” She used a piece of gauze on her arm and Sylvia scowled as she realized the blonde had cut herself.
“Are you insane? Cutting yourself around a sleeping vamp?”
“Hey, it got your attention, right? I needed you awake.”
“And if I’d decided to need you as a good morning snack?” Sylvia felt the pulse of her fangs as they throbbed in their sheaths, and the heady scent of the girl’s altered blood was almost too much of a temptation. The girl was nuts. Just plain crazy. No other explanation.
“Oh, I could have handled you.”
Sylvia was tempted to teach the girl a lesson. Altered blood or not, the girl was not a vampire. Foolish, stupid little idiot. How had she survived this long, in their world? Clueless. She was clueless and she had no idea how easily she could be broken.
Sylvia did.
“The ones you knew had been starved. Mistreated. Weak. New in their skin.” Angel leaned against the wall, still smiling. “I’m not new in my skin.”
“You’re a young fool,” Sylvia said quietly.
“I’m not one who was locked away, starved, mistreated.” She shrugged, that pretty blond hair floating around her shoulders.
Shit, she looked like a china doll. She lived with monsters. Granted, those monsters played by the rules, but she was going to get hurt. Badly hurt, if she decided to keep screwing around.
A
CHINA doll?
Angel knew how to keep her emotions from showing. Physically, emotionally. Living with the monsters, as Sylvia called them, had taught her pretty decent control. She’d had to refine that control early on, thanks to all those nagging voices in her head, but the monsters had made it even more crucial.
Especially since she was married to one.
Nothing like being married to a vampire and knowing he sometimes picked up on stray, random thoughts when the two of them slipped into dreams… and he realized that one of his friends had walked past you and thought… fuck, she smells like dinner.
Angel did smell like dinner to vamps, even more than most humans. It happened after a vamp forced his blood on a human— almost enough to induce a Change, but not quite. She was altered now. Vamp bait. And the more she could control herself around the monsters, the better. Because that meant her husband was less likely to get into a nasty little fight with some of his buddies because they were a little too into the way she smelled. Not that they’d act on it, but still.
She had good control.
And she also had damn good reflexes— the only warning she had was a flicker, but it was enough. Rolling to the side, she drew the custom blade she’d taken from Kel’s stash.
Sylvia’s eyes lingered on the blade before she looked up.
“I’m not the helpless one you saw die all those years ago,” she said quietly from five feet away.
Sylvia’s muscles didn’t even tense. This time, it was harder to evade and Angel felt the ghost of Sylvia’s fury, and an echo of worry, and grief. Shit. Maybe I should stop pulling the tiger’s tail, she decided. Sighing, she came to a halt and lifted her hands, keeping the blade ready. She didn’t think she’d need it, though. “Look, I’ll stop fucking with you. You got poison inside you, you know that, right?”
Sylvia was only a foot away when she stopped.
Staring into those dark eyes, shimmering with an eerie silver glow, it took all of Angel’s control not to let the fear show. Fear and predators— not a good mix.
Slamming it into submission, Angel held Sylvia’s gaze. “I can’t help that I can see your memories, any more than you can help having them. But that’s not entirely why I’m here… I met somebody today who had a run-in with your man, Pulaski. It was enough that I caught a few more blips— this time with Pulaski in it. I can help you find a house where he and his lover have been. You might find some answers there. But we have to go now.”
“In case you haven’t noticed… the sun is still up,” Sylvia said. A sneer curled her lip and she looked at Angel like she’d just as soon wipe the floor with her.
Angel had no doubt the woman could. Angel would do her damnedest to bleed her.
But Sylvia was a vampire, and Angel needed to remember she wasn’t dealing with a Hunter. Sylvia didn’t have the stop button a Hunter would have and she didn’t operate on the same playing field.
If she was smart, she would have waited until Toronto arrived.
Except when things finally settled into a cohesive picture in her mind, her thoughts had come together and focused on one person.
Sylvia.
She had ties to this… very strong ties.
Angel waved a set of keys. “I’ve got a van. You’re awake and moving. All you have to do is to get to the van… which I have practically pulled up to Toronto’s little escape route.” She smiled. “He’s had to house vamps before, get them out in the middle of the day. I even have something you can cover yourself with. You won’t get a bit of sunshine on your lily white skin.”
“What did you have in mind?” Sylvia tossed her another scornful glance. “Throwing a blanket over my head?”
Angel bent over and grabbed the pile of velvet from the floor. “I’m a little taller than you, but this will cover you.” She handed Sylvia the cloak and grabbed the book-laden backpack from the floor.
“What’s in there… garlic and crucifixes?” Sylvia frowned as she let the cloak unfold, falling in a luxurious tumble to the ground.
Glumly, Angel glared at the backpack. “No. Worse. It’s homework.”
Sylvia flicked her a puzzled glance. “Homework…?”
“Yeah. You get to go out and kick ass and they stick me back in school. Life just isn’t fair, ya know that?”
T
HE cloak did a damn fine job covering her from head to toe.
She’d wanted to leave Toronto a note, but Angel had vetoed that idea with the simple words, “I’m not exactly sure where we are going.”
Sylvia couldn’t explain just why she was okay with following this crazy woman-child, but something in her gut whispered she needed to. It wasn’t wise. It wasn’t smart. And the skin on the nape of her neck crawled— a certain warning. But she had to do it. There were secrets in the girl’s eyes, secrets that Sylvia needed to understand.
Plus, she’d mentioned Pulaski.
And Toronto trusted the strange woman. That shouldn’t matter so much, but it did. He shouldn’t matter, but he did.
“He’ll follow us.”
Sylvia looked up and met Angel’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Bright light spilled inside— although none of it reached Sylvia where she sat, she still flinched, turning her face aside. Another hour, she thought. In another hour, the sun would set and she could rest easy about being out here. “Who will?”
“Lover boy.” Angel flashed her a smile. “Tor will catch our scent. He’ll be on our trail in no time.”
Sylvia cocked a brow, unsettled by how easily the woman followed her train of thoughts. And she’d been trying to think quietly. “And this matters… why?”
Angel shrugged. “You don’t strike me as the type to trust anybody. I get that sitting back there doesn’t mean you trust me, but I figured it might make you feel a little better if you knew he’d be on the scene shortly.”
“The scene?” Smirking, she rested her head against the back doors of the van. There were no windows in the back, nothing that could let the sun in. She was safe, secure— at least as secure as she could be hurtling down the interstate at eighty miles an hour with a mortal who dashed in and out of traffic with little regard for the speed limit, laws and the various semis crowding around them. “You going to college for criminal justice or something?”
“No. I’m in high school. Well, not technically. They put me in the school where they think some of the sex ring stuff is going down. I’m looking for pieces of the puzzle to hand to Rafe so he can go after the sons of bitches doing this.” Angel grinned. “I’m working undercover.”
Tapping her fingers restlessly on the steering wheel, she continued, “That’s where these pieces in my head came from. There was this…”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes, staring at the back of Angel’s blond head. “This what?”
“Never mind.” Angel flicked her another look. “That’s Rafe’s turf. You want the Pulaski son of a bitch, right?”
“Riiiiight…” Sylvia drew a blade from her boot, absently stroking it with her thumb. “Now you have me puzzled, being one of Rafe’s and all. Shouldn’t you be trying to keep me away from him?”
“Oh, Pulaski isn’t there— this is all just another piece of my puzzle. And I’m not one of Rafe’s. My husband is.” Angel darted across the interstate.
Sylvia closed her eyes as people around them laid on their horns. The girl was crazy— just plain crazy, the way she drove. Like she didn’t care if she lived or died.
“So we’re going someplace where Pulaski stays? Or to find somebody who knows him?”
Angel shrugged again. “I don’t know that yet. It’s not clear.”
“What’s not clear?”
“The picture in my head…” Angel sighed. “It’s almost there. But not quite.”
CHAPTER 19
T
ORONTO knew the minute he pulled up to the house it was empty.
Angel.
Shit.
What in the hell was Sylvia doing running around with Angel? Swearing, he debated for a split second on whether or not to put in a call to Rafe, then decided against it. Rafe had been babysitting Angel for too long. The girl knew what she was doing.
If Angel went searching for Sylvia, it was for a reason.
Although what in the hell those reasons were, Toronto was clueless— might have been nice if she’d clue him in, too.
Had to be something important. But, he was bothered by the scent of blood in the air.
Angel’s.
Shit. What in the hell…?
The buildup of electricity in the air was enough to have his wolf snarling. Sighing, he headed for the chest of weapons he stored. He’d only made it about two feet when Kel appeared in his living room.
“Do me a favor. Don’t teleport into my house without letting me know first,” he advised as he crouched in front of the chest. Kel had picked up that handy little skill early. Too early.
“Why was Angel here and why do I smell her blood?” The single-minded obsession, however, wasn’t anything new. Kel had always been focused completely on his woman.
“I don’t know.” Toronto pulled out a modified Glock and loaded it. Hollow silver bullets in that one. The baby Glock had regular bullets. He added a couple of knives, ranging from just a little larger than his palm to almost as long as his forearm, tucking them into various sheaths. “It’s not my job to keep up with your wife, Kel.”
“Toronto…” Kel’s voice was a low, deadly whisper.
Rising, Toronto met the vampire’s stare. It was hard, cold and held a lot of power for a vampire as young as he was. Under it, Toronto saw the fear and because he did, he didn’t let the threat he heard in Kel’s voice trigger the anger whispering just below his skin. “Listen, kid, I don’t know. But your wife isn’t an idiot. She came looking for the merc I’m… working with.”
“Merc.” Kel’s eyes narrowed. “James. You’re not supposed to be working with her. You’re supposed to be getting your hands on Pulaski.”
“My best bet of getting my hands on Pulaski is working with her.”
“And if she kills him?”
Toronto smiled. “We’ve made a deal about that. Now are you going to come with me while I track her and your girl down or are you going to stand there and yap the night away? If you’re yapping, have fun talking to the walls.” With that, he slammed the chest shut.
Once he was outside, he tipped his head back and checked the air. Not as easy to trail them once they’d gotten into the van, but he could do it. If it had just been Sylvia, it would be harder. If it had just been Angel, it would be harder.
But the two of them together… especially since Angel had decided to go and do some bleeding in his house… and she hadn’t covered the wound all that well.
Toronto wasn’t drawn to blood the way vamps were, but he sure as hell could use it to track. Eyes closed, he dragged the scents deep inside, let them rest on the back of his tongue.
“She was still bleeding when they left,” Kel whispered.
Toronto opened his eyes and looked at the younger man. “You better lock it down if you want her found right now. Otherwise the stink of your anger is going to get in my way.”
Kel flashed fang at him, eyes glowing in the coming twilight. But then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he looked at Toronto, he wore a mask that was almost human and had managed to shut down the fury flickering inside him.
“Find her.”
“W
E’RE here.”
Night had fallen.
Actually, it had fallen quite some time ago and Angel had driven through the darkness without speaking much.
Now they were parked in front of a house overlooking the rolling waters of the Mississippi. “Wonderful,” Sylvia said quietly as she slid out of the back, studying the house. “Just one question… where is here?”
“A little outside of New Madrid, Missouri.”
“Missouri.” Sylvia stared at the house as foreboding settled over her shoulders like a cold, slippery cloak. Two hours driving. “Okay, you want to tell me why we drove about a hundred and twenty miles? There’s nobody here.”
“I know.” Angel slanted a look at her from under her lashes. “He’s gone. So is the guy he’s with. But he was here. I don’t know what you’re going to find in there, but you needed to come here.”
“Shit.” Sylvia popped her neck and looked back at the house. “No wonder Hunters don’t like you psychics. You’re irritating as hell.”
“Yes.” Angel’s eyes held a far-off look. “The boys… who were the boys, Sada?”
* * *
S
ADA—
He was screaming.
She could hear him—
Those desperate, desperate pleas were faint though. It was like she heard them through a dream. Through somebody else’s ears, perhaps.
Although considering how her heart raced, how her hear
t thundered in her ears, it was hard to believe she could hear anything. Hungry, so hungry. It was a ravenous beast in her belly and it had been for days. Weeks—
And then all was silent. Sated, replete, she rested.
But her blissful peace did not last long. A low, pleased laugh drifted through the small room that was her prison and she jerked upright, staring out into the hall at her captor. He watched her with cruel, cold eyes, and on his mouth, there was a cruel, cold smile.
“I warned him,” he told her.
She swallowed. The taste of blood lingered in her mouth and she could have shuddered—it was so sweet, and already she craved more.
“Warned who?”
“The boy. But he wouldn’t stop trying to get down here.” He glanced at something on the floor.
And although she wanted to fight the urge to look, Sada couldn’t stop herself.
A scream tore from her throat as she saw him lying there. The boy.
Pale, still… and his throat was a ragged, bloody mess.
She lunged for him while out in the hall, her captor laughed.
Then he swore…
“S
ADA?”
“Don’t call me that,” Sylvia whispered, shrugging Angel’s hand away.
Sada no longer existed. She’d died that day in the cell. Those blue eyes haunted her. The promises to help. Pleas for forgiveness— now she was the one who wanted to beg for forgiveness, except she didn’t deserve it.
“You were starved.”
Ignoring Angel, she stormed toward the house. It smelled of vamp. Cool, musky and of the earth. And there was something more, too. Death. Blood— coppery, old and thick with fear. People had died here.
“You were starved, all but driven mad with hunger— tortured. You were a new vamp. You can’t be held responsible for what happened.”
“Yes.” Sylvia stopped on the steps and turned, staring at the woman standing there in the moonlight. “I can. I don’t buy into this ‘it’s not my fault, somebody forced me to, it’s my mother’s fault, it’s my father’s, the little blue elephant made me do it’ crap. I did it. I wasn’t strong enough to control the hunger and I broke. I killed.”
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