London Calling

by Sorcha Mowbray

  “Emmitt will be the next to experience some sexual liberation,” Jack quipped. “He’s taken this celibacy thing too far.”

  Ezra chuckled. “Will we have to wind you up, Emmitt?”

  Emmitt blushed. “If a key is supposed to be positioned down there to wind me up, like you said, I haven’t found it yet.”

  “Mmm,” Andres murmured. “Then perhaps you haven’t looked closely enough.”

  “So, tonight we hunt,” Jonah stated, pulling their collective attention to him. “We need one of those undead beings so we can study it. Figure out what spell was used to create them and how to undo it.” As part of the pact they made with Omer, they were supposed to protect those who needed it most. Jonah always saw it as a way to atone for his past transgressions. He may never be able to bring back Era or her family, but he’d prevent it from happening to another’s kin. It gave him some solace.

  “Also, figure out how to keep it from putting you into an uncontrollable blood lust,” Andres supplied. “Considering what happened last night.”

  Ezra cocked a brow. “What happened?”

  “Bloodlust. I almost attacked, Miss Jemmy.”

  Ezra sat forward, and his gaze darkened. “What?”

  “Don’t worry, I used the elixir Jerome gave me, but whatever the spell is doing, it’s attached to me as well. Thankfully, Andres was there to help me.”

  Ezra’s rigid posture didn’t ease. “Are you sure you should be out on this case?”

  “Yes. The accident the other night is my fault. I lost control of myself. I vowed never to kill again, and with this spell, I have broken that promise. I must atone for it.” Guilt ate him alive. Might be why he felt so protective of Miss Craig.

  Ezra inclined his chin. “Fine. Then we hunt. Where do we start?”

  “I believe the cemetery,” Jerome stated. “It seems Mr. Tinnin had a grand time there last night. Apologies, Jonah.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “We trailed the beings from the port to the crypt near the small lake in the middle of the graveyard.”

  “By ‘we’, he means him and Miss Craig,” Andres supplied. “I say he diddles her.”

  “Is sex all you ever think about?” Lawson piped up.

  “Sometimes.” Andres stepped forward. “Every single one of you have filled my fantasies at least once.” He cut his gaze to Ezra. “Sometimes more than once.”

  Ezra growled. The full-body sound rolled through him. “Watch it, demon. I don’t have any compunctions about causing your death.”

  “And yet, you turn me on even more with your words.” Andres winked.

  “Stay on point, gentlemen.” Jonah used the term lightly. “I believe if we wait near the lake, we might be able to catch one and bring it back here to study.”

  “We’re burning moonlight,” Ezra stated, standing. “I’ll take Lawson and Jack with me. If anyone can capture the undead it’s Jack.”

  Exactly. Though he wore clothes, the places where a head and hands should be were invisible unless he wore a scarf and gloves. Jack said it was an experiment gone wrong, and the ever-recompensing Jerome had tried several different potions to bring back his corporal body. Unfortunately, they never worked. The leather duster brushed past Jonah, floating mid-air until falling to the ground. “I’ll find you,” he said, exiting the house.

  They followed behind him, making their way toward the graveyard across town. The idea of running into Miss Craig filled him with longing, a sensation he thought he’d never experience again. In three hundred years, a black mass of nothing had taken root in the center of his chest, overtaking the light within his soul. In all this time, he never thought he experience any human emotion again, until her. Miss Craig woke the dormant part of him, allowing the light to push back against the darkness..

  Knowing the tenacious woman, she’d be out as well, searching. Hope bloomed where his heart thumped. He didn’t believe in love or second chances. He didn’t have any. In fact, he gave his up when he killed the girl in the alley two nights before. No, he didn’t deserve happiness. Not now. Not ever.

  “I’ll be damned.” Andres nudged him. “There she is.”

  His body lurched to life. His heart pounded at an accelerated pace. Unrelenting need coursed through him, but unlike with Miss Jemmy, he was in control. “Infernal woman. She shouldn’t be out here. She’ll try to dispatch Jonah’s team if she sees them.”

  “Then I suppose you should talk to her.”

  And, say what? “Yes. Right. Talk to her.” Jonah stepped away from Andres and his team. Perhaps if he could distract the woman, then it would give his men time to grab an undead.

  Using his vampire speed, he closed the distance between them. The second he stopped in front of her, Annabelle pulled the trigger of her cross bow. He caught the stake, a millisecond before it entered his chest. Naughty woman. She gasped, her posture tensing as recognition filled her features.

  “Really Miss Craig, I thought we were over this.” He cocked a brow and handed the stake back to her.

  The group assembled behind her watched with curious gazes. “Mr. McRae,” she whispered.

  “Indeed.” He gave her a small grin. “Have you come to find the mechanized beings?”

  She blinked several times. “Yes. What are you doing out here?”

  “The same.”

  Annabelle licked her lips. He watched with rapt attention as the appendage moistened the fullness before darting back inside her mouth. “Well, I suppose you should be looking for it and not me.”

  “Yes. I have my team with me, as you do yours.” He motioned to the people staring at them. “Pleasure to meet you. Good evening, Miss Clara.”

  The girl nodded.

  “Can’t be too careful,” she replied, directing his attention back to her.

  “No, you can’t. Not when creatures who go bump in the night abound.” Amusement filled him when she nodded in agreement.

  “Good evening, Mr. McRae.”

  “Good evening, Miss Craig.” He turned in time to see Emmitt climbing the hill with a body draped over his shoulder. “Well, I see we have an undead to examine.” He casted his gaze back to her. “You’re more than welcome to our findings, Miss Craig.”

  “I believe we’ll investigate on our own. Good evening, Mr. McRae.” She sidestepped him and headed into the darkness.

  Well that didn’t go as badly as I thought it would. At least she didn’t try to stake me. Perhaps they were making progress. “What have you got, Emmitt?” He joined his friend as he grew nearer.

  “An undead of course, but nothing of which I’ve ever seen.” He hefted the body higher. “Jerome said to bring the body to his laboratory.”

  “I agree. Hopefully now we’ll get some answers.”

  4

  “What we have here is a zombie.” Jerome Brew rubbed his hands with a blood-covered towel. “It’s not alive and not quite dead.”

  “Well, at least we know Raycraft hasn’t returned,” Emmitt stated. The doctor who made him fled into the night when the townspeople found out about his experimentation, leaving Emmitt to fend for himself.

  “Yes.” Jerome nodded. “However, they all have cog and wheel contraptions within them. I’m not sure what they’re for.”

  Emmitt leaned over to consider the body. “To keep them from decomposing? I would decompose in a matter of minutes if I didn’t have the different mechanisms within me.”

  Jerome nodded. “I believe you’re right, however they have no brain to think with, unlike you, my clever friend.” He grinned at the monster. “Didn’t Jonah say there’d been a spell—dark magic?”

  “Yes. He says it affects him as well.”

  “Then the question is this: who in this city can create such an abomination and get away with it?” He placed the towel on the worktable next to the body, before grabbing a knife. “This is clearly more than magic.”

  “Quite right.” Emmitt frowned. Watching the doctor explore the corpse before them had a twinge of memo
ry surfacing. It happened now and then. A reflex, was what Omer said. Nothing there, really. His life before reanimation didn’t exist. His body belonged to seven people. His mind a mathematician’s.

  Who he’d been and what he’d done didn’t matter anymore. Yet, these flashes of images caught him by surprise. He’d have to speak with Omer about it. Maybe there was a way to keep them at bay. For the time being, he didn’t want them. They’d interfere with his job.

  “Please let Jonah know I will have a report ready for him tomorrow evening when he awakes.”

  “I will. Thank you, Jerome,” he replied.

  “Emmitt?”

  He paused on the way out of the laboratory. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Tinnin, did he attack the female with Jonah?”

  Emmitt sighed. “No, Jerome. Have you considered a binding spell? One Omer can cast to help you control the evil within you?”

  For long seconds, he didn’t believe the doctor would answer him.

  “A good idea. However, Mr. Tinnin wouldn’t take kindly to being kept within.”

  “Of course not.” He frowned. “Good morning, Jerome.”

  “Good morning, Emmitt.”

  Jonah woke in a tangle of sheets. Sweat covered his flesh and his dick throbbed incessantly. The dream had come on fast. For the first time in three hundred years he’d felt human. He reached beneath the sheet to squeeze himself. His ass clenched and a moan fell from his lips.

  In vivid detail the dream returned. Annabelle had been laid out on his bed, naked. Her breasts were on display for him to play with. To tease the hard berry tips with his mouth and fingers. She writhed below him, pleading for him to give her more. When he licked his lips, he tasted her nectar on them. He’d bite down on her nipple before positioning himself between her thighs, his cock-head pressed to her pussy. His breath hitched. He’d waited for the ardor to rise, and when it didn’t, he filled her. The warm wetness of her passage seared him, and he had to control the need to spend himself deep within her.

  Disappointment washed over him. The tingle at the base of his spine let him know he’d been ready to blow seconds before he’d awakened with the setting of the sun. Even now his body vibrated with gut-clenching need. He rubbed his dick, unable to push aside the wanton feelings rising within him.

  It only took four strokes and he stiffened. His fangs popped through his gums as he gasped and arched. The first spurt of his release caught him by surprise. He hadn’t been expecting the sheer force of it. He continued to pump his length, riding the waves of his release. Not only had it been years since he dreamed, but his baser urges had been interrupted three nights ago in the alley.

  When he sagged, he grabbed the bottle of elixir with his free hand and took a swallow of it, then a second. He hated the stuff with a passion, but it also pushed back against the rising need for blood. Not just any blood either. Miss Craig’s. The thought should have scared him. Instead, it had his spent length twitching in his palm. With a rough curse, he placed the bottle back on the table, then grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor, to clean up.

  A knock came at the door, and he scowled. “One moment.”

  “Yes, Mr. McRae,” Jemmy replied.

  “Are you well this evening, Miss Jemmy?”

  “Yes, Mr. McRae. Are you…better?” The tentative lilt of her voice had him berating himself once more for his lack of control.

  “Very much so, Miss.” He fastened his pants, and strolled to where Miss Jemmy waited for him, a little more loose-legged than he’d been in a long while. He opened the door, and grinned. “I’m afraid I had a little accident. Leave the shirt and I will clean it myself.”

  She stared up at him with such wide-eyed fascination. “Yes, sir.”

  “Miss Jemmy,” he murmured. “You should save your curiosity for a man worthy of your admiration. I am damaged, beyond repair.”

  She blushed, casting her gaze toward the floor. “There is one, but I am afraid he doesn’t see me as I see him.”

  He knew he shouldn’t pry, but inquisitiveness gripped him suddenly. “Oh? Would you care to join me for some tea?”

  “Sir?”

  “Find your favorite and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He gave her a tight smile, so not to frighten her again. His teeth had yet to retract. The emotional flood was still heady as it coursed through him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He waited for her to hurry down the hall, then headed to his wardrobe to find a shirt to wear for the evening. When he was finally presentable, he descended the stairs to the kitchen and found Miss Jemmy waiting for him.

  “The scent of sweetened Earl Grey welcomed him as he took a seat. “Very nice choice.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. My mother made it for me, before her passing.”

  Another accident committed by Ezra. He’d been newly turned and he’d found himself high on randy lust on a full moon. The woman had wandered too far from her group of Romani. One thing had led to another and in an attempt to keep her close, he’d bitten her, convinced he’d bred her.

  Three days later Omer found both of them. Miss Jemmy had been no more than eight or nine years old when she’d been wandering the streets, calling for her mum, while Ezra mourned the loss of the girl’s mother. Since Jonah had been with the ancient being the longest, he’d taken the girl into his home and gave her work. Thankfully, she’d never known about Ezra, but Jonah knew it was a matter of time before the little tidbit of information got out, especially with the newly formed pack.

  “So, who is the lucky gentleman to have caught the eye of our fair Jemmy?” He leaned forward slightly, showing his interest.

  Her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink once more. “Mr. McRae,” she whispered. “I’m sure he’d have no need for a girl such as I.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Jemmy. You’ve grown to be a beautiful young woman. It has been a pleasure and an honor to be your guardian for so long.” He took her hand. “I must apologize again for the other night. I didn’t mean what I said and I am sorry I gave you a fright.”

  The tension filling her slight frame released. “Don’t worry. When Mr. Dunn explained, I felt gutted for you. I am glad you are on the mend.”

  “Thank you for your kindness.” He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Now, tell me who might this gentleman be, so I may inquire about him, and make sure he is properly suited for you.” He winked.

  She giggled and pulled her hand from his loose grasp. “You already know him.”

  “Do I?” The list of people he knew was short. “The suspense is killing me, Miss Jemmy.”

  She bit her lip, as though contemplating telling him what he’d consider the biggest secret she had. “Mr. Nealy.”

  Bravo. The scared man would find a kind and loving soul in her. “Well done. Have you spoken to him about these budding feelings?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “No. He’s busy. I wouldn’t want to intrude in your business.”

  “Miss Jemmy, there is always time and I believe Mr. Nealy could use the company.” He stood. “Tomorrow, you will spend time with him. I will arrange this.”

  “Mr. McRae,” she squeaked. “Do you think such is appropriate?”

  This time, he allowed the warmth of his happiness show. “Yes. Be ready tomorrow and I will have everything planned.”

  “T-thank you. Oh, how I wish my mum was here to help me be ready.”

  His thoughts wandered to Annabelle and her assistant Miss Clara. “I might have some help for you. I will leave word. Now, off with you. You have a big day tomorrow and you shouldn’t be worried about house chores.”

  She practically jumped from her chair before launching herself into his arms. Whatever fear she might have harbored, gone, as she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Jemmy.”

  Jonah strolled into the library and found Emmitt and Lawson waiting for him. The low light glinted off the pewter half-mask Lawson wore a
s he read from a book. The man beside him read through an anatomy text. On his desk lay a report. “Jerome?”

  Emmitt nodded. “He said Mr. Tinnin would be joining us tonight.”

  “Joy,” he stated, crossing to the information left for him to peruse. “Mr. Nealy?”

  “Yes?” His rough, gravelly voice always caught Jonah off guard.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Surprise registered on his features. “Nothing. Unless something is needed in the pursuit of answers.”

  He chuckled. “Tomorrow, you will have lunch with Miss Jemmy.”

  “Miss Jemmy?”

  “Yes. I believe you and she have much to discuss.” He grabbed the documents off the table and joined them, taking a seat in the wing-back leather chair.

  “Much to discuss?” Uncertainty clouded his bourbon-colored eyes.

  “Miss Jemmy is enamored by you, sir.”

  “Enamored?” He frowned. “I am disfigured. Why would she cast her pretty gaze my way?”

  He lifted his shoulder. “Why don’t you take tonight off and find out tomorrow when she comes calling.”

  Hope bloomed in his eyes. “Aye, I will. Thank you, Jonah.”

  “You’re welcome, Lawson.”

  He waited till the man left the area before going over the autopsy and Jerome’s findings. “You were there?”

  Emmitt nodded. “It’s not like me. It’s different.”

  “I see this. Without the magic, it ceases to live. Interesting.” He flipped the page, and read through the doctor’s excitable writing. “And you say Mr. Tinnin will be with us tonight?”

  “Yes. Jerome said it is getting harder to control the heathen within him. He is waking with no memory of where he’s been or what he’d done.”

  He grimaced. “Should we talk to Omer?”

  “I believe we should. Mr. Tinnin isn’t one to care for rules.”

  “Then we shall. I’ll speak to him now. While I am away, prepare everyone for tonight. We need to find the person behind this.” Jonah stood. “Emmitt, we will find happiness for you.”