Creature of Habit: Book Two (Creature of Habit #2)

by Angel Lawson

  “Look,” I said, and struggled to keep my temper controlled. "I met Laurel, and my—Amelia, she became friendly with her as well. She truly was a wonderful, caring person. I don't know if Caleb knew he was killing a member of your community. I suspect not. I think he's targeting people near me in an effort to draw me out—get some sort of revenge."

  “Revenge for what?” Judson asked.

  “I have no idea,” I admitted. “But he is singularly focused on me.”

  Adam snorted. "Then let him draw you out. Be a man or whatever you are. Why let him kill innocents while you wait?"

  His accusation stung. After all, I had considered this as well. Before I could reply, Miles touched my arm and said, "Grant is working tirelessly to stop Caleb, but he can’t just throw himself out there as a sacrificial lamb. Sure Caleb and his gang want to eliminate him—they see him and the rest of the coven as some sort of self-appointed gatekeeper, but killing Grant is not their ultimate goal.”

  “Then what is?” Adam asked.

  “I told you,” I said. “We don’t know. Something or someone close to me. Amelia or someone from my past. I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure it out.”

  Adam’s silence made me nervous. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “If all the demon wants is the girl, then why not let him have her? Why not use her as bait?" he said with a smug grin. "Let her draw the bloodsucker to you."

  Rage rolled beneath the surface and Miles spoke before I had to. "Absolutely not. We won't endanger the life of an innocent this way."

  "Adam’s right. You’re risking others' lives every day you don’t stop him. If you’d taken action months ago, Laurel would still be here," Judson argued. “Maybe it’s time for you to consider an alternate plan. If he wants that girl so badly then he’ll let him get her and we can finally end this.”

  I clenched my teeth at the thought of anyone attempting to take my Amelia away or put her in any form of danger. That was not an option.

  "No." I looked them both in the eye. "Any strategy dealing with my assistant is off the table. We’re here to help and to provide you with information. I assure you that I’m working on this situation to the best of my ability." I paused, trying to control my anger, and took a deep, unnecessary breath. "We came here to ask if you’d agree to patrol between Asheville and Lost Cove. With your help we can probably find his nest and get the jump on him. Or even better, if you get the chance to eliminate members of his gang, do it. Otherwise I’m handling this my own way."

  The tight lines around Judson’s eyes and the tight set of his jaw told me he had more to say. To my surprise though, he didn’t. He simply nodded and said, “We’ll patrol the area for now, but if you don’t stop Caleb soon we will be forced to revisit this subject.”

  Adam sat up straight in his chair. “No, that’s not enough.”

  Judson pinned him with a look. “When you become Elder you’ll have the chance to make the decision. For now? It’s my job.”

  Miles nodded and offered his hand to the Elder and they shook on the agreement. Adam glared at me and my senses told me he was young and spoiling for a fight. I had a feeling he would get one before this was all over.

  ~*~

  The meeting concluded a short time later and we left the two Shifters at their table. Again we wove through the crowded room, passing the bar. The woman from earlier—the older one—caught my eye and beckoned me to the counter.

  “One minute,” I said to Miles. He continued out the door, but I approached the barmaid, curious. She slid a shot glass in my direction, before filling it with rich, dark blood. I picked up the glass and held it up to the light. The surface was spotless. I tipped the glass back and swallowed the liquid.

  “I am Laurel’s mother.” She gestured to the younger girl. “This is her sister, Clara.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She nodded. “Despite my husband’s reservations, I believe you. That girl that came to the funeral, was she really Laurel’s friend?”

  “Yes. Amelia was very fond of her.”

  “Moving to the city was a difficult choice for Laurel. Even though I never told her, I was proud of her for taking the risk. For doing something to get out of this god-forsaken place.”

  I stole a glance at Clara and found her eyes cast down.

  “She should have been safe. Stopping Caleb is my responsibility and as your family has made perfectly clear, my fault for not doing it yet.”

  She waved a bar rag in their direction. “They’re hurt and angry, but they’ll help you with the fight.”

  “I hope so.”

  She reached under the bar and removed a small wooden box. She pushed it across the bar next to the shot glass. “I’d like you to give this to your friend…”

  “Amelia?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “She should wear it always, in honor of Laurel and for her own protection.”

  I picked up the box and opened it. Inside was a pendent, attached to a fine chain. The pendent itself was a deep red stone. It was abnormal in shape and about the size of a quarter. I touched the stone and dropped it quickly.

  The stone had pulsed like a beating heart.

  “What the hell?” I asked, rubbing my fingers together. “Magic?”

  She snapped the box shut and held it out. “If you love that girl as much as I think you do, you’ll give her this charm and tell her to never take it off.”

  I eyed her skeptically. I’d never deny the existence of magic in this world but it wasn’t something we embraced. “You say it’s a protection charm?”

  “The others will never believe you—that you love her for her life. For her heart. Even your own kind is wary of your intentions. But I sense it; that your happiness is bound in her every breath, in her thumping heart.”

  I picked up the box. “And this will keep her alive?”

  She didn’t answer, instead taking her rag and wiping it across the counter. Clara returned with an order and they busied themselves with their work. I’d been dismissed.

  Slipping the box into my pocket I exited the building, undecided if I would give Amelia the charm or not.

  Chapter 28

  Amelia

  The punching bag swung in front of me, barely shaking as I landed my shot. When Olivia said training I had no idea it would include boxing. The idea of punching a vampire in the face seemed ridiculous.

  “It’s about balance and speed. Having an awareness of your opponent’s body and rhythm,” she claimed, standing behind me.

  I jabbed at the bag, my arms feeling like Jell-O.

  “Good,” she said, nodding.

  “Can we take a break?” I pointed to my water bottle across the room. Sweat pooled in the small of my back.

  “Ugh, sorry. I keep forgetting the water and exhaustion thing. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I screwed the top off the bottle and took a big swig. “You’re just kicking my ass a little. But in a totally good way.”

  I heard a tap and saw Elijah and Ryan standing in the doorway.

  “Did you guys come to mock my lame skills?” I asked.

  Elijah shook his head. “No way, I’m just impressed you’re doing something.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan agreed with his large arms crossed over his chest. “The way Grant talks about you, I was thinking maybe you were incapable of taking care of yourself.”

  “What?” I looked between them all. “What does he say?”

  “Just that you’re the most special of the special snowflakes that has ever existed.”

  Yeah, that sounded about right.

  In an attempt to change the subject I said, “So how often do you guys use this room? I thought all this stuff came natural to you.”

  The room itself took up most of the basement of the house. Olivia had led me down the long stairs, turning down a short hallway at the bottom. She flicked on the lights and I was surprised to find a workout room that I suspected rivaled the most equipped superhero.<
br />
  Besides the punching bags and mats on the floor, the most noticeable thing in the room was the long rows of weapons lining the walls.

  “Sure, we can all fight,” Elijah said. “But even we have to hone and adapt our skills. For example, Ryan obviously has the upper hand between the two of us physically. I have to either increase my speed or use one of the weapons to beat him down.”

  Ryan snorted. “As if.”

  “Is that a challenge?” Elijah asked.

  “I think so,” Olivia said, with a wicked grin. “Fifteen seconds to prepare.”

  The two men moved quickly, faster than my eyes could register. I stepped next to Olivia and said, “Uh, exactly what’s going on here?”

  “There’re going to spar.”

  “This happens a lot?”

  “More than you would think,” she said. “You may want to stand over there, out of the way.”

  I did as she suggested. Ryan and Elijah met in the middle of the room. Both men had chosen weapons. Ryan held a long sword with a heavy looking hilt. Elijah chose something smaller, lighter maybe, but it still had a thick blade with a nasty looking jagged edge.

  “They aren’t going to actually use those on one another are they?”

  Olivia shrugged. “They’ll heal.”

  Oh.

  Olivia moved to the middle of the room and placed a hand on each vampire’s chest. With her lean body and muscular arms I could easily see her flipping the script on these two and kicking both of their asses. She reached between her breasts and pulled out a shiny silver whistle. What the heck? Did she carry that in there all the time?

  “On my whistle,” she said, nodding at each of them. “One…two…” Three sounded with a loud screech and sure enough, she used all her strength to push Elijah and Ryan off balance. The men tumbled backwards, scrambling at the last minute to gain solid footing.

  Olivia raced off the mat and over to me giggling like a hyena. “They’re so dumb.”

  Dumb wasn’t the word that came to mind. Instead I found the show exhilarating.

  They moved with grace and incredible speed. Sparring was the exact right word, they jabbed and took punches, kicked and lunged. Elijah leapt over Ryan’s head, grabbing on to his neck at the last minute. Ryan fell to the ground hard, but twisted on impact, forcing Elijah’s blade to tear into the mat instead of his chest.

  “Third mat this month,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “Genevieve is going to be pissed.”

  The men rushed past us, blades clanking against one another. Ryan kicked Elijah square in the stomach and he flew back, past the punching bags and right into the wall. The heavy weapons fell to the floor in a loud rush.

  “I’m not cleaning that up!” Olivia shouted.

  Elijah glanced her way and took a second to blow her a kiss. Ryan used the opportunity to slice into his bicep. He reacted with a hiss and lunged forward, taking Ryan to the ground with him. I winced in sympathy.

  “What are you doing?”

  I looked over and saw Grant had entered the room. He didn’t seem impressed.

  “They’re sparring?” I said. “Olivia brought me down here to—“

  “Watch them kick each other’s asses,” she interrupted and squeezed my hand. Oh, so that training thing was a secret. From Grant. That was sure to end well.

  Annoyance flittered across his face.

  I said, “We were finished with Dress Selection 2015 and Olivia thought I’d like to see the training room.”

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “Whatever, Grant, this has been going on long enough. Do you want to stop them or should I?” Olivia said, staring at the two vampires, now in some sort of dual headlock.

  That offer brought a small glimmer of a smile on his lips.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Go for it,” she said.

  He took off his jacket and reached behind me for a long, ancient looking sword. Flipping the shaft in his hand, he stopped only to plant a fast kiss on my lips. With a burst of sudden glee, he dove into the fray.

  Ryan saw him right before he landed and muttered, “Shit.”

  Chapter 29

  Grant

  Wiping the blood off the blade, I kicked Ryan, who was lying flat on his back.

  “Get up.”

  “Shut up,” he retorted.

  “Come on, Amelia,” Olivia said, pushing her toward the door. “I told you I’m not cleaning up after these guys.”

  They disappeared up the stairs and I offered a hand to Ryan, helping him off the ground.

  “You only won because we didn’t have any warning,” he said, blotting the healing bruise on his lip.

  “Totally against the rules,” Elijah agreed.

  “Since when have I been one to follow rules?” They both stopped moving and gave me incredulous looks. “Okay in fighting—when do I follow the rules when fighting?”

  We cleaned up the mess, including tearing out the destroyed mat. Elijah lifted it over his shoulder while Ryan and I cleaned and hung up the weapons.

  “So what happened with the Shifters?” Elijah asked.

  I summarized the meeting—the bar and the discussion with Judson and Adam. When I got to the part about using Amelia as bait they exchanged a look.

  "No,” I said to them both. I was unwilling to even entertain the subject.

  “It's a solid plan, Grant. At least consider it as an option. We have nothing else,” Elijah said.

  "Absolutely not," I said. The anger from before returned. This was my worst fear: the people in my life not appreciating Amelia’s vulnerability. Elijah and I stared at one another at an impasse of sorts. I stifled my rage and trained my ear for her heartbeat in the floors above; zeroing in on the rhythm soothed me.

  “Elijah’s right, bro,” Ryan said, from the couch. “We’ve got to do something.”

  With a glare in Ryan's direction, I walked out of the room. But I knew I was too late. Elijah's fighting-focused mind was at work, formulating plans on how to use Amelia as a lure for Caleb.

  I climbed the stairs, four at a time, and stopped outside Olivia's room. Just hearing her voice—the sound of her heartbeat, caused my stomach to clench with longing. My fingers were on the knob when Olivia flung open the door.

  "If you're done, send her out," I said, simply because I needed to see Amelia. I was tense and close to a full melt- down. I needed her. “Please.”

  "I'll let her know you're here. And she can come out when she’s ready," she replied. I rolled my eyes and waved her off. I needed Amelia.

  I leaned back against the wall prepared to wait, but maybe Amelia missed me as well. Moments later she came into the hall. The anger receded at the sight of her messy disheveled hair. Then I saw the light in her eyes and calmed further.

  "What's wrong?" she asked, and I pulled her towards me. I slipped my finger up the hem of her shirt, seeking a pulse point on the small of her back. Grazing her skin with my fingers, I found one, fluttering hard and fast.

  "I missed you," I admitted, although it was a half-truth. I did miss her but that was definitely not what was wrong. “How was your afternoon?”

  “Good. I think we’ve narrowed down the dresses.”

  “Was it that terrible? I know Olivia can be a bit much.”

  “She’s something, alright. No one in this family of yours ever ceases to amaze me.”

  I couldn't suppress the smile that spread across my face. "That bad?"

  “You have no idea,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder.

  "You know she can hear you, right?" I laughed.

  Amelia's face turned red at the realization that there were no secrets in a vampire's house, and it was all I could do to not pick her up and hide her in the next room for my own pleasure. But sadly, there were no secrets in this house; so even if I attempted to tuck Amelia away, everyone would find us anyway.

  I sighed at the idea of being alone with her, wishing we were back home. But my desires were dampened by the reminder
of our situation from the other night. Pleasure, sexual at least, had proven to be dangerous. I had been close to losing control, and I was struggling with the balance between my lust and bloodlust. I looked at her now, blushing and beautiful, the conflict ever present.

  "Do you want me to show you the rest of the house?" I asked, trying to change the subject to calm the flow of blood from Amelia's extremities and quell the desire coursing through my body.

  She smiled in relief and nodded. "Please. It really is beautiful."

  I walked down the hall, pointing out the different rooms. Ryan had a room up here, while Sebastian preferred the relative quiet of basement. Miles and Genevieve shared a suite with adjoining offices. "It’s really past time for them to move on." I noted this with regret. Miles had even mentioned this to me briefly in the forest, listing off the places they had considered moving once the situation with Caleb was over. It was part of their life. My life. But, suddenly the idea of displacement unnerved me.

  Amelia stopped to study a painting on the wall. It was Italian, from Miles's days abroad. The colors had faded with time but the intent was still visible. "So every couple years everyone moves?”

  “Yes, I documented most of these in my journals.”

  Her brow creased. "Oh, I didn't make the connection. If you lived here last time, does that mean you had a room?"

  "Upstairs. On the third floor, in the attic. It's empty now. They don't use it in case I choose to come back," I confessed. No one says this out loud, but I know their intentions.

  "They love you very much," she said.

  We were at the top of the stairs, on the wide landing where a huge chandelier made from deer antlers hung from the ceiling. "They do. And I love them. But I can't live here."

  Amelia slid her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. "I'm glad you don't live here. They love you, but you don't fit here. Not anymore."

  I rested my chin on her head. Her familiar odor was mixed with a tinge of perspiration. What exactly had she and Olivia been doing while I was gone? "Really? Why do you think that?"