“Then you go to jail.”
“That’s bullshit!” he roared.
Ryan simply shrugged. “That’s the deal.”
“So, I’m going to be stuck with someone who can hold jail over my head?”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Ryan demanded, actually having the balls to sound offended.
“At the moment? Yes.”
“I made it a condition that she didn’t know.”
Hunter shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you fucked me over like this.”
“Hold that thought,” Ryan said, taking another step back.
“What?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“You also have to see an anger management therapist while you’re under house arrest,” Ryan added when he felt that there was enough space between him and the bars.
For a moment, he could only stare at the man he planned on killing with his bare hands. Then finally, he decided to set the man straight.
“Are you fucking crazy? I don’t have a fucking anger management problem!”
Chapter 1
April 23rd.
“This can’t be right,” Kylie murmured as she pulled to a stop in front of the large two-story brick house that looked like it belonged in an Animal House movie instead of the affluent neighborhood that it was smack dab in the middle of.
Frowning, she looked back down at the address written on the thick yellow envelope that the Prosecutor’s office had sent over three hours ago and frowned. The address matched, but this couldn’t be the right house. There was no way that this was Hunter O’Malley’s, C.E.O of O’Malley Enterprises, house.
This had to be a mistake, she realized just as the convertible filled with scantily clad women behind her laid on the horn, demanding that she get out of the way. No, this definitely wasn’t the house, she mused, deciding that perhaps she was on the wrong street. She drove to the end of the street and frowned when she saw that it was, in fact, the right street.
Deciding that they’d sent the wrong address, she looked for a parking spot and after a few minutes found one, the only one left, which happened to be a half-mile from the party house. Once she was parked, she called the prosecutor’s office. After ten minutes of being put on hold, and five minutes of being forwarded to a half-dozen offices, she discovered that the address was indeed correct.
As much as she wished that she could put this off, she couldn’t. She had a job to do, one that would guarantee her future. If everything went according to plan, she would finally have her dream. For that alone she could handle absolutely anything, she reminded herself as she stepped out of her car. After a slight pause, she decided to come back for her bags later.
This really was a very nice neighborhood, Kylie mused as she walked down the unmarred cement sidewalk and admired the perfectly manicured lawns and intricate designs of the metal gates that surrounded the elaborate homes that lined both sides of the street. It was definitely a step up from the small studio apartment that she’d been renting for the past two years.
Then again, a cardboard box in a Wal-Mart parking lot would have been a step up from that apartment and probably a lot safer. At least she wouldn’t have to shell out a hundred bucks of her own money to have new locks placed on her door and window. She also probably wouldn’t have to worry about coming home and finding some junky searching through her stuff either. Definitely not a bad place to spend a year, she thought with a smile as she looked at the houses that looked more like mansions.
As she continued the long walk towards what could only be described as an out of control frat party, she mentally berated herself for not doing a little research on her new employer. She only knew a few basic details about Mr. Hunter O’Malley and that was only because she’d taken thirty seconds out of her busy morning to skim the details on the face sheet attached to the thick file that she’d received while she’d admittedly been in a rush to follow the nice police officer’s orders and get the hell out of her apartment before things got ugly.
Okay, uglier.
Normally, she liked to know everything there was to know about an employer, company and potential position before she agreed to take a job, but she hadn’t been given the opportunity to conduct any research before she’d accepted this position. The only thing that she knew about this job was that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity with great pay and benefits and that it was a live-in position that required a yearlong commitment.
When the DA had approached her about this position three days ago, she’d quickly realized that they weren’t going to answer any of her questions. She had to admit that it had been a little unnerving interviewing for an unknown employer. After she’d received the phone call late last night letting her know that the job was hers if she wanted it, she’d almost turned it down. If it hadn’t been for her neighbor choosing that exact moment to put his fist through her wall, she probably wouldn’t have accepted the job. But as Big Daddy, as he liked to be called, pulled his meaty fist back, leaving a huge hole in her bedroom/living room/dining/kitchen wall, she’d decided that this live-in position, what little she knew about it, sounded perfect.
After an hour-long argument with her landlord where she’d begged to be released from her lease, she’d packed her possessions into her car and caught three hours of sleep before the messenger from the DA’s office woke her up bright and early at six this morning with the packet and details of her new employer and position. She only had about five minutes to look over the cover sheet before Big Daddy did something that upset the police, again. That was right around the time that she was escorted from the building, interviewed, and sent on her way, which in retrospect was probably a good thing since Big Daddy had set the building on fire and she couldn’t return there even if she wanted to.
She really didn’t want to.
So, now she was starting a new job off by crashing a party thrown by her new boss’s kids, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that. She really wasn’t thrilled by the idea of living with teenagers for a year. She didn’t hate kids, but she wasn’t exactly in a rush to go out and have one of her own either. Then again, spending a year under the same roof with an obviously spoiled kid might destroy any aspirations of having a family of her own one day.
After a slight pause, she realized that she was okay with that and continued on, stepping over a puddle of fresh vomit and through the large cast-iron gates welcoming anyone and everyone. She didn’t date much, didn’t care to, and if this gave her the excuse that she needed to focus on her job then that was more than fine with her, she absently decided, choosing to pretend that she didn’t see the used condom on the ground.
“Watch where you’re going!” a woman with too much makeup, not enough clothing and was obviously intoxicated, snapped as she stumbled past Kylie.
With a sigh, Kylie continued towards the large two-level brick house, wondering if she was going to end up dealing with the police twice in one day. As she stepped over one of the bodies, hopefully just passed out, lying on the front steps, she couldn’t help but wonder if this job came with hazard pay.
Tall, Dark & Furious
A Pyte/Sentinel Novel
Prologue
Massachusetts Bay Colony - Maine Territory
1665
“Where are you going, Trace?”
Trying not to panic, Trace shut the door before any sunlight could spill inside the small one-room cottage. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he turned around and held up the small leather-bound book his father had given him just this morning after he’d returned from his trip to the city.
“I was hoping to go down to the river to read, Father,” he said, forcing a smile that he hoped would convince his father that everything was fine.
Ethan sighed heavily as he sat on the room’s only bed and ran his fingers through his unruly shoulder-length hair. “Why don’t you stay here and read?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, Father,” Trace said, wishing he’
d lit a few candles so that he could see better since the dim light the small fire in the hearth gave off wasn’t enough to tell if his father was still angry.
“Trace,” his father said in a warning tone, “tell me that you’re not going to go see her, especially after what happened yesterday.”
“No, Father,” he said, lying to his father for the first time in his life, but he didn’t have a choice. If he’d listened to her in the first place, no one would have known they’d been spending time together, but he’d been too stubborn to listen and now, thanks to him she was in real trouble.
“Why do I have a feeling that you’re lying to me?” his father asked warily, getting to his feet and pulling his breeches on.
“I’m not,” Trace said weakly, shifting his gaze to the dirt floor, because looking his father in his eye while he lied made him feel sick to his stomach.
“We need to talk,” his father announced after a short pause as Trace’s eyes shot up at the all too familiar announcement.
Trace took an anxious step towards the small table as his father sat down. “But we’ve only been here four weeks, Father. You promised we’d be able to stay longer this time,” he pointed out almost desperately because he didn’t want to leave the only friend he’d ever had.
While life with his father was wonderful, it was also very lonely. For the first fourteen years of his life, his father had taken him all over Europe desperate to keep him safe. He’d searched everywhere for answers, taking Trace with him and as he did his best to keep Trace’s existence a secret. When Trace was six-years-old, weak, sick, and barely bigger than a toddler his father became desperate to save the child that his wife had so desperately wanted and did something no other vampire would have dared.
He’d kidnapped a priest who’d sworn allegiance to the Sentinels, the group of altered humans placed on earth to fight against vampires, demons, and shifters. With one move, his father had signed his own death warrant, but hadn’t cared. The only thing that mattered to Ethan was keeping his promise he’d made to his wife and protecting their child.
For three weeks, he’d kept the priest prisoner in a cave a mile away from the little tavern where his father had left him in the care of a local whore. His father had paid her to ignore her usual customers and focus on him with the promise of an excruciating death if she failed in any way. Night and day his father questioned the priest, careful to keep Trace’s existence a secret.
The priest refused to answer. At first, his father had been patient with the older man, hoping to coax the holy man out of the answers he desperately needed. It wasn’t until the whore stumbled into the cave, carrying Trace who’d taken a turn for the worse, that his father had lost control. He’d attacked the priest and threatened to turn him if he didn’t tell him what he needed to know to save Trace.
The threat worked. The priest had quickly explained that children like Trace were not human, something his father had feared since his birth. He’d also explained that he was a Pyte, the unnatural product between a vampire and a human woman. He explained that a Pyte would remain weak unless he was fed blood along with human food and if he reached his sixteenth year he would go into a deep sleep and wake up changed into a true immortal with absolutely no way to kill him. The priest had refused to tell Ethan anything else. Instead, he’d pleaded with Ethan to kill Trace before it was too late.
As Ethan struggled with what the priest had told him the terrified whore had pulled a small dagger from between her breasts and tried to stab Trace through his heart. She would have succeeded if the priest hadn’t screamed at her when she’d hesitated. Ethan lunged for her, taking the dagger in his shoulder in the process and before she could scream for help, he’d ripped her throat out.
Using the dead whore’s dagger, he’d slit his own wrist and carefully fed Trace his blood, praying the priest hadn’t lied to him. For two days straight, his father held vigil over him while the priest prayed for his death. Once Trace managed to open his eyes, his father had been determined to do whatever it took to keep him safe until the day that he would no longer have to worry about him.
Ethan had kept his word to the priest even though he knew by doing so that he was unleashing a witch-hunt on the two of them, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to hurt a man of God no matter the reason. He’d made the priest promise to give them a day’s start before he alerted the Sentinels. Once the promise was given, he’d freed the priest, grabbed Trace, and fled. They’d barely made it out of town before the Sentinels had come for them.
From that point on, he’d kept Trace hidden from everyone, too afraid that someone would figure out that Trace was the small boy that the Sentinel Council was looking for. They’d moved frequently, searching for others like Trace, and finding nothing but rumors and ghost stories meant to scare children into behaving.
No matter how many nests he came across, Ethan couldn’t find anyone that had come across another Pyte before. But once a Master caught wind of Trace’s existence they were forced to run since Masters either wanted to kill him or keep him to find out what he could do for them once he hit his immortality.
Once they’d outstayed their welcome in Europe, his father bought passage for the two of them to the colonies. They’d both instantly fallen in love with New England. Although it was already a well-loved area for many demons and shifters, vampires were reluctant to settle in the colonies since it would have been more difficult to hide what they were. It would have been safer for them to stay in Europe where they could move more freely, but his father hadn’t wanted to take any more chances.
For the past two years, the two of them had enjoyed a sense of freedom they hadn’t known in Europe. They mostly stayed in small townships, which Trace preferred. When they were in the small cities like Boston, Trace wasn’t allowed to leave their rooms, but here he could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted as long as he avoided the shifter Packs that sometimes crossed this area.
He’d made a point of going outside every day, enjoying the sunlight on his skin while he still could. In a matter of days, weeks, or months he was supposed to make his transition and then the sun would be lost to him forever. It was the same reason that his father had settled them here even though it meant that he had to travel most of the night to the nearest city to feed.
For years, Trace had been counting down the days until his sixteenth birthday. Once Trace hit his immortality, which according to that priest’s should be soon, his father would no longer have to worry about him, and he could return to Europe where life would be easier for him.
Trace had already decided that he wouldn’t follow his father back, not after the warning the priest had given them. Once he underwent his transformation, he was going to move away from everyone and everything. He’d feed on rats if that’s what it took because he refused to be the monster that he was meant to be.
“I know that I promised that we could stay here, but after yesterday you have to realize that we can’t stay here. It’s not safe,” his father explained. “They’re shifters, Trace. You know how they feel about our kind.”
“But, father, Mary doesn’t care about any of that,” when his father opened his mouth to argue he rushed on, “and they don’t know about you. They think I’m here by myself. As long as I stay away from the rest of her Pack and take the long way home through the swamp, we’ll be safe.”
His father went still. “The Pack knows about you?”
Trace reluctantly nodded, shifting anxiously as his father’s blue eyes flashed silver. Trace didn’t need any light to know that his father’s fangs had dropped as well.
“You told me they didn’t see you!” his father snapped, coming to his feet.
Trace shifted back away from his father. He knew his father would never hurt him, but even knowing that didn’t stop him from stumbling back away from him when his father’s eyes flashed silver. He’d seen what his father was capable of and knew that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of his father’s te
mper.
“I-I t-think they spotted me when we were by the stream, Father. Mary told me to run, but,” he swallowed hard, “I think it might have been too late and that’s why they struck her, but she didn’t tell them about me!” he promised.
Ethan ran both hands over his face, muttering something that Trace couldn’t hear.
“Father?” Trace said, taking a tentative step forward.
“You fool!” Ethan bellowed, slamming his hand down on the small table, breaking it into a dozen pieces before he stormed towards Trace as his fangs slid down. Before Trace could back away, his father grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.
“Her loyalty belongs to her Pack. Not you! She’s already told them about you!” his father snapped, shaking him harder. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you once they get their hands on you?”
“The full moon isn’t for another two weeks, Father! I’m safe!”
He knew they’d have to leave before the full moon when every shifter in the region would shift. Their sense of smell would become stronger, and they’d hunt them down. During those nights, they’d have to move to a city where it would be safer since shifters avoided humans to keep their existence hidden.
“You’re not safe,” his father bit out through clenched teeth. “Their Alpha can change at will. He can hunt you down when I’m not there to protect you, you fool!”
His grip tightened on Trace’s shoulders as he closed his eyes, almost as if he was the one in pain. “Please tell me that you didn’t tell her what you are.”
Trace winced as pain shot through his shoulders. “She promised not to tell,” he said softly.
“Her loyalty is to her Pack. Not to you!” Ethan roared, slamming Trace into the door.
“She’s my friend!”
Ethan backhanded him, knocking him against the wall, and destroying what little hope that he’d had left that his father would understand, making him realize that he no longer had a choice. He had to save her before it was too late.
The Promise (Neighbor from Hell Book 10) Page 26
