Secrets in Blood: Lake Of Sins, #2

by L. S. O'Dea

  Kim stood in the doorway; a sliver of moonlight highlighted her figure. She wore a long shirt and a pair of baggy shorts, her legs bare to his gaze. He swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. She probably didn’t realize he could see in the dark.

  “Jackson,” she whispered, her voice husky from sleep. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes.” Go back to bed. She was in her pajamas and he was half undressed. They were alone. If she had any sense of self-preservation, she’d leave.

  Obviously, she didn’t because she reached out in the darkness, feeling along the wall. She flipped a switch, turning on a nearby lamp. The soft light that it gave off didn’t do much to brighten the room, but it must have been enough for her because she walked toward the couch, her hips swaying gently with each step. She stopped in front of the table.

  “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” she asked.

  He forced his eyes up to her face. You. “I’m fine.”

  “Do you want more water?” Not waiting for an answer, she took the glass into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. She came back and handed him the drink.

  “Thank you.” He drank some and set it on the table. His gaze wandered up her legs, to her round hips and then to her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He could reach out and touch her. Would she move away or stand still for his exploration? Silence and anticipation hung heavy in the air. “I need to leave.” He started to stand.

  She stepped around the table and placed her fingers on his bare chest, stopping him. Her touch was soft and cool, the pale skin matching the bandage on his chest. She gently pushed and he dropped back to the couch. She sat next to him.

  “What do you have in your hand?” she asked.

  His flesh burned where she’d touched him. He unfurled his fist, showing her the tracking device.

  “What is it?” Her finger caressed his palm as she examined the metal.

  “A tracking device.” Even this slight contact sent shocks of desire shooting through his body. He should move, but he couldn’t. The darkness and the scent of her wrapped him in a cocoon of possibilities. He turned his head and inhaled the clean fragrance of her hair.

  “What? I didn’t hear you.” She leaned closer to him, a soft curl brushing his arm.

  Her mouth was right there, waiting for him to taste. The pulse at the base of her throat beat quick and steady from desire. He shifted slightly so that his lips brushed hers. “A tracking device. Your father had it placed inside me.” He jerked his head back and stood. “Where’s my shirt?”

  “Ah..” she mumbled, her eyes cloudy with passion.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” He’d completely forgotten about the device last night. All he had known was the pain of his wounds. “Don’t you get it? Your father can find me. With this”—he held up the tracking device—“he can find me anywhere, and if he finds me here...”

  “Oh, crap!” She jumped up from the couch. “A tracking device.” She repeated the words as if their meaning had just dawned on her. “Dad promised me that he didn’t use them. Why didn’t you tell me you had one inside of you?”

  “I was hurt and drunk. I didn’t think about it.”

  She ran down the hallway by her bedroom and came back holding some clothes. She handed them to him. “I washed them.”

  The shirt was dry but the jacket was still damp. He pulled them on, flinching with the pain. She tried to help but he stepped away from her.

  “Can’t you get rid of it?” she asked.

  “That’s what I’m planning to do, but not around here.” He walked toward the door.

  “Wait. I’ll come with you. We’ll use my carriage.”

  “No. This...this can’t happen. Thank you for stitching me up.” He opened the door as Viola burst in, causing him to stumble backward.

  “Kim! Hugh. He...hates...me,” wailed Viola, who had obviously had a few of drinks.

  Kim wrapped the other girl in her arms. “Don’t you dare leave,” she said over her shoulder as she led Viola into the living room.

  He hated crying females. He held up the tracking device, even though she couldn’t see him. “But I have to get rid of this.” His voice held a pleading tone.

  Kim stormed back into the hallway and snatched the device from his hand. She opened the closet near the door and dug inside, sending coats, boots and other items flying past his head. She stepped out of the closet holding a hammer. She placed the device on the floor and smashed it. She scooped up the pieces and walked over to the window. She opened it and threw them out. After closing the window, she turned back to face him.

  “Now, get in here,” she ordered. “I’m going to need your help.”

  He snapped his mouth shut, which had been hanging open, and meekly followed her into the living room. Over the next hour or so, he was sent on errands to retrieve various items such as tissue, water, and wine. In between delivering the requested items, he sat on a chair and listened to Viola relate the events that had occurred recently. It seemed that Hugh had run into a little misfortune which might turn into good luck for him.

  Eventually, Viola calmed down enough to sleep. Kim left the guest bedroom and sat on the couch across from him.

  “Who would blow up Hugh’s house? And why would he think Viola and old Jorge had anything to do with it?” She sniffed. “Jorge was the nicest Guard I ever met.”

  He remained silent. At least she wasn’t classifying him as nice, although it would be better for both of them if she did.

  “And Mr. Conguise is a sweetheart.”

  He snorted. “I doubt that.”

  “Why? Have you heard something about him?”

  “Rumors.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I’ve heard that Conguise’s retirement home for old Guards and Servants is not somewhere you want to go.”

  “Viola’s been there. She says it’s a nice place.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” He stood. “I do need to leave. It’s almost dawn.”

  “It’s pitch black outside. Dawn is hours away.”

  “I have things that I have to do.” He had to get out of there for both their sakes.

  “Can’t they wait until morning? You could stay until then,” she said, blushing.

  His nostrils flared, pulling in her scent. It took everything he had to refuse her invitation. “I can’t.”

  “Where are you going? You can’t go back to my father’s.” When he didn’t answer she said, “Jackson, tell me you’re not going back there.”

  “I have to. I have to tell the other Guards. I can’t just disappear.”

  “I don’t want him to hurt you again.” She walked over to him. She touched his arm in a brief caress. “I don’t know why he’s like that to you. He’s not like that with us.”

  “I would kill him, if he harmed you.” He ran the back of his hand along her cheek.

  “Don’t go. Please.” She leaned into his hand.

  He shut his eyes. If he looked at her any longer, he would stay and that would not be good for either of them. He breathed in deeply, her essence washing over his senses. This was worse, her scent in the darkness, touching her in the darkness. He opened his eyes. “I have to. Just for a little while. I’ll leave before anyone but the Guards see me. I promise.” He truly hoped he could keep that promise. It all depended on Hugh.

  CHAPTER 27

  IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN Jackson arrived at Hugh’s mother’s house. Viola had spilled a lot in her heartbroken rant, giving him hope that he could convince Hugh to grant him shelter when he left Benedictine. He could not just walk away from his current master. Most Almightys didn’t care enough about their Guards to go and look for them if they ran away, but Benedictine would see it as a personal insult which meant that he would not be safe. He could hide, but eventually, Benedictine would find him. There was also the chance that the Almighty would spend his fury on the other Guards. Jackson had to let them know he was going. They needed to be given a choice to stay or leave. He now
recognized the odor of the tracking devices so he should be able to find it in the others and remove it.

  As he came closer to the house, he picked up the scent of another Guard. Approaching at night, especially with everything that Hugh had gone through recently, was not the best idea, but he had to risk it.

  “I mean no harm. I come to speak with Hugh.”

  “There is no one here by that name,” growled the other Guard.

  “Your name’s Sue, right.” He was pretty sure that was what Viola had called Hugh’s Guard. “I’m a friend of Viola’s.” He winced. That was probably not the smartest thing to say. They did suspect her of attempting to murder them.

  The door opened and he was yanked inside. Sue held him against the door while Hugh pointed a gun at him. Only the police carried guns. This Almighty should not have one. Damn, the only luck he had was bad.

  “Back away from him, Sue,” said Hugh.

  “Seriously, I mean you no harm.” He held up his hands.

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Hugh paused, studying him. “You look familiar. You work for Benedictine, right?” He gently rubbed his finger on the trigger.

  “Calm down.” Sweat trickled down his spine. “I can deliver the Producer that you want.”

  “Explain.” Hugh moved his finger off the trigger.

  “Can I put my hands down?” Pain was shooting through his body, causing his arms to tremble. “It’s killing my side.”

  Hugh nodded. “What happened to you?”

  “Benedictine.” He lowered his arms.

  Hugh smirked. “That doesn’t surprise me. Explain about the Producer.”

  “We caught her yesterday. She’s being held in a secure location. I can bring her to you.”

  “You caught her on your own?”

  “No.” He tried to meet Hugh’s eyes, but his gaze kept returning to the gun. “I worked with others on Benedictine’s orders.”

  “That’s interesting. I was told earlier today that...someone else had the Producer and she’d be delivered to me.”

  “That’s a lie. Who told you that?” Had one of the other Guards beat him to Hugh?

  “A very reliable source. Perhaps you should explain in a little more detail, or perhaps, I should shoot you as a spy for Benedictine. Maybe, he blew up my house.” Hugh focused the gun more pointedly on him.

  “No, wait. Whoever told you they had her was lying.” This was not going as he’d planned. Should he explain about the Tracker and Handler? Would Hugh believe him? He hardly believed that they existed himself. The gun remained fixed on his chest. “Benedictine tried to hire...someone to find and capture the Producer. When the...that creature refused, Benedictine found a way to force him.”

  “Who did he attempt to hire?”

  His throat was completely dry. It was amazing that he could still speak. “You won’t believe me.”

  “Try me,” said Hugh.

  He swallowed nervously. “A wild Handler and Tracker.”

  “Go on.” Hugh’s expression didn’t change.

  Somehow, this Almighty knew about the Tracker and Handler. That was good news for him. “Benedictine tricked them and they brought him the Producer.”

  Hugh relaxed his hold on the gun. It was now aimed more in Jackson’s general direction than right at him.

  “When was this?” asked Hugh.

  “This morning,” he said, relaxing a little. Hugh believed him about having the Producer. Now, all he had to do was convince the Almighty to give him shelter.

  “So, Benedictine really does have her. This is not good.”

  “Yes, but I can bring her to you.” For a price.

  “Why would you do that?” Hugh’s eyes narrowed.

  His lip curled as he dragged his eyes away from the gun and met Hugh’s gaze. “I’m leaving Benedictine.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the beating you were given?” Hugh lowered the gun a little.

  “Maybe, a little, but it’s more than that. I’ve been beaten before and didn’t leave.” He’d wanted to leave Benedictine for a long time, but Kim and the tracking device had held him in place. Now, one was gone and the other was forcing him to leave before he did something stupid.

  “Why are you coming to me?” Hugh lowered the gun a bit more.

  “I know Benedictine. He’ll come after me. I need somewhere to stay for a while.” He breathed easier now that the gun was pointing more at the floor than him.

  “So, you want me to give you a safe haven?”

  Want wasn’t a strong enough word. He needed Hugh to shelter him. His life depended on it.

  Hugh tapped his finger against his lip and then shook his head. “Now, is not a good time.”

  “That’s why I offer the Producer. A bargaining chip, if you like.”

  “That’ll make Benedictine angrier with you.”

  “That does not concern me.” Angrier did not begin to describe what Benedictine would feel when he stole the Producer.

  “Really. Why is that?”

  “Dead is dead. Benedictine will kill me for leaving. What difference does it make if he kills me for stealing the Producer?” He was tired of this. He wanted to sleep. “Do you want her or not?”

  “I do,” said Hugh.

  “Then you agree to harbor me and any of my Guards who choose to leave Benedictine?”

  “Wait one minute. You didn’t mention anyone else.”

  “I’ll not leave them behind to be beaten, maybe even killed, for my actions.” This was not negotiable.

  “I don’t know that I can protect a whole pack. Benedictine will have the law on his side. Their tracking devices will bring him right to my doorstep.”

  “The devices will be gone.” He raised his shirt to show the bandage. “Mine has already been removed.”

  “It’s illegal,” warned Hugh, eyeing him with a little more respect.

  “So, have us arrested. My kind isn’t always tagged. Let them prove that we once belonged to Benedictine. With you on our side, it won’t be easy.”

  Hugh studied him in silence.

  This wasn’t going to work. He’d have to try and make it on his own because there was no way that he was staying with Benedictine. Now that he knew Kim was attracted to him, he wouldn’t be able to keep away. That would ruin her and kill him. “Then the deal is off.”

  “Now, hold on a moment. How many Guards?”

  “Ten at most. Counting me. They may not all leave and some may not want to stay with you.”

  “You can deliver the Producer unharmed to me?”

  “Yes.” What was so special about this Producer that the Almighty would take in ten Guards and risk the censure of another Almighty?

  Hugh gave the gun to Sue and held out his hand. Jackson hesitated. No Almighty had ever offered to shake his hand. They had always just commanded. They shook. He couldn’t help it; he stood a little taller after that.

  “It’s a deal. Do you want a drink?” asked Hugh.

  He cringed. No more alcohol for him. “No, thanks. I need to get back to Benedictine’s before dawn to speak with the other Guards.”

  “Benedictine is going to give the Producer to Professor Conguise,” said Hugh as he poured a drink.

  Who told him that? His Guards had delivered the message to Conguise only a few hours ago.

  “Benedictine will not harm her. She’s the key to his son’s surgery.” Hugh began to pace. “She must not go to Professor Conguise. Find out when the surgery is and send me a note. You should sneak her out that day. Benedictine and Conguise will be busy then. It’s our best chance.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  He left Hugh’s and headed back to Benedictine’s. A few blocks down the road he began to limp. He’d pushed himself too far; he was exhausted. He wanted this all done so he could sleep. He should grab the Producer and leave. Waiting until the surgery did not sit well with him. Staying was a risk, especially without a tracking device. If Benedictine noticed, he would be punished. He
didn’t think he could take another beating. So, until the surgery he would stay away from Benedictine. His lip curled. He would like to tear the Almighty to shreds but he wouldn’t. No matter what, the man was Kim’s father. He’d never do anything that she couldn’t forgive.

  He’d often heard that Hugh had his mother’s heart and took in strays. He’d never considered himself a stray, but that was what he was going to be. He preferred to be on his own, but that was impossible. Thanks to Viola and the Producer, he had Hugh’s support, but he still didn’t understand why. What was it about that one, small Producer that made her so valuable? He had to figure that out before he delivered her to Hugh. He needed to know the real value of his bargaining chip.

  CHAPTER 28

  TRINITY SAT IN THE CORNER of the cell with her arms wrapped around her knees to conserve warmth. A few rays of early morning sunshine filtered in through the small, dusty window but it was across the room and the light was not strong enough to generate any heat. Her stomach rumbled. Her dinner of vegetables and bread sat in the corner untouched.

  She should never have left home. Because of her Gaar and Mirra were prisoners and the Producers were either going to die when the new Guards arrived at the Finishing Camp or die in the woods alone and scared. She’d failed miserably. Worse than failed, she’d caused so much suffering. If it weren’t for her stupid desire to fit in with the other kids, which was never going to happen, she’d have stayed home and Gaar and Mirra would still be roaming the forest. Travis would be locked up but a lot of the other Producers had been happy at the Finishing Camp and now they were going to die, sooner than if she’d just accepted her life.