Jaxon (Blood Angel Chronicles Book 1)

by Jennifer Field

  She wriggles her arm free from my grasp and looks between Mason and me. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her since this morning. Why? What's going on? Where are you guys going?”

  I continue to the lift when I hear her yell, “Jaxon, stop. Where are you going?” I realize I wasn’t listening to anything she said. She leans in and holds her voice only slightly above a whisper. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “We’re going to your apartment. I need you to stay here. Find Kap and don’t leave The Lenox until I call.”

  “Damn it, Jaxon.” I watch as Shellie stomps her foot, clearly agitated at my response. “What is going on?”

  I have to be honest with her, and there is no point in lying. “I don’t know. But if Maitlin went out alone, she’s put herself in extreme danger.”

  “Fine, I’ll wait here until I hear from you. But you don’t think that maybe, just maybe, Maitlin just wanted to be alone collect her thoughts? She’s had a tough couple of days.”

  She doesn’t need to tell me that Maitlin was angry with me, and the look on her face says it all. She knows it was me that has upset her.

  “I just need to make sure she’s safe.”

  “Well, if she’s not there, she may have just gone out to think. It might not be the worst thing. You know she was pretty upset this morning.”

  Way to hit a guy when he’s already down. “I know.”

  Mason clears his throat. We were wasting precious time. I step into the waiting elevator, and as the doors close, Shellie yells that Maitlin also has a shift at Rise tonight.

  “Call your brother, Leif, and tell him to let you know if Maitlin shows up at Rise for her shift.”

  The ride over shouldn’t take long despite the heavy traffic at this time of day in the city. But the tension in the SUV is palpable.

  “You look like some kind of fucking ninja,” Mason jokes, apparently trying to lighten the mood for both of us.

  I don’t even bother with a response to his comment. There was one thing on my mind since this morning. The single question that has been gnawing at me since Maitlin told me about her dream. I don’t even look at him as I ask. And wait. “You shifted to save her?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not what you think,” he deadpans. “I’m…”

  I hold up my hand, not needing or wanting him to explain. The sheer fact that he did it speaks volumes and says everything I need to know.

  “Did… Did she tell you that?” I can hear the confusion in his voice.

  “Yeah,” I say, ending our conversation. I don’t mean for my answer to sound so melancholy, but I can’t seem to hide emotion where Maitlin is concerned. Instead, I busy myself with covering up.

  When we roll onto Maitlin’s street, Cole is standing out in front of their apartment but comes over as the SUV comes to a stop.

  “Should I open the window?” Mason asks, looking over and motioning to my absurd amount of coverage. I don’t bother answering. I roll it down from my side.

  “Did you see anything?” I ask Cole.

  “No, everything seems secure. I spoke to one of the neighbors who said she thought she heard someone leaving about an hour ago.”

  I want to think that she came, got what she needed, and left. But again, the feeling that something is off continues to claw at me. I regret not having bitten Maitlin the night before. If I did, not only would Mason’s claim on her be unfounded, I’d have the means to find her through an unbreakable blood bond.

  “You want me to go inside, check it out before you go in?”

  “No.” I open my door and step out into the sunlight. I can feel an unpleasant burning of my skin, even under my protective clothing. But I walk calmly up the steps, take out my spare key, and enter the brownstone.

  I need to take a moment inside before continuing. Perhaps unpleasant was an understatement. Pain radiated through my entire body. It was hundreds of years since I’d willingly walked in the daylight. I know the pain won’t last long, but it’s enough to give me pause.

  Cole and Mason follow behind me, neither needing to ask if I am okay. I’m breathing; therefore, I am fine.

  “Maitlin!” I yell as I walk through the downstairs, the air ripe with the same stench as that of the asshole I drained outside this apartment not a week ago. Addressing Mason, I ask, “Do you smell that?”

  “Yeah, the same stank Neil had on him the other night.”

  “Same as the body in the car.”

  As I make my way upstairs, Mason calls up, “Her bedroom is the second room on the right.” My fingers wrap around the railing, wishing it was Mason's neck. I’d snap it like a fucking twig.

  “I know where her fucking room is,” I lie through gritted teeth.

  I can still smell her sweet scent lingering throughout the house. The first room at the top of the stairs appears to be Shellie's, and I can’t tell if someone has ransacked it or if she is just a slob. The closer I get to the end room, the sweeter Maitlin’s scent becomes, but it is mixed with terror.

  I stand outside Maitlin’s door, looking into her private world. Her crushed phone sits on her bed next to a tote bag that seems to be full of clothing and pictures. The smell of blood, while still fragrant in the room, isn’t fresh. It is at least a day old.

  My eyes move to the small brown spot on the carpet. My fangs extend, not in lust like the first time I smelled her blood at the bar after she cut her finger, but in anger. Neil hurt her, but it is be nothing compared to what I will do to him once I find him.

  I grab her bag and her useless phone and head back downstairs.

  “She not here, but she was, and I don’t think she left on her own. Dannella’s scent is strong upstairs as well as two others.”

  “It’s Ridge and Neil’s scents,” Masons adds, and my heart sinks a bit further.

  MAITLIN

  My head throbs and every muscle in my body aches as if someone dragged me through the streets of New York. It only takes me a nano-second to realize my arms are tied behind my back, and I’m sitting on a hard, wooden chair, blindfolded.

  I pull at the bindings holding my arms behind me, but it’s no use. I can’t move them more than an inch in either direction. My eyes and throat burn, and whatever they tied around my eyes is so tight, I can’t even blink.

  Thankfully, they neglected to place a gag around my mouth so I can at very least breathe. I think briefly about yelling for help, but I have a feeling there isn’t anyone here who is willing to release me. I need to remain calm and try to think.

  Thinking about the three people that were in my apartment, I have to wonder what their plan for me is. Neil mentioned they all had a mutual acquaintance they needed out of the picture. The only person that I know who knows Detective Wood and the brunette from the Lenox would be Jaxon. But that’s ridiculous. Neil wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think he would. The memory of what he said in my bedroom comes back to me,

  What is happening?

  Kidnapping?

  Attempted murder?

  Neil is a cheater, sure, but he isn’t a criminal. Has he gone insane? It is the only logical explanation for Neil’s actions. And everything he is planning on now.

  He is no longer the man I knew for nearly a decade—kind and loving. That man never hurt a fly. This man, this new Neil, has a cold, malevolent heart. I saw what he was capable of the other day and I saw it again in the hall when I looked in his eyes. He isn’t the same.

  I twist again against my bindings when panic surges through me at the thought of what he might have planned. He wants me dead, and now he has me tied up and helpless.

  I know there is no hope of a knight in shining armor coming to my rescue a second time. Mason isn’t going to break down the door in the nick of time, riding in on his white lion. And as for Jaxon… he most likely doesn’t even realize he did anything wrong and figures I am still sitting at The Tower waiting for him. In truth, he is a mistake I need to rid myself of and not look back.

  I can hear chatter, so I t
ry to clear my head and concentrate on the voices that seem to be coming from another room. I recognize Neil's voice and the detective who was with Mason the other morning. Ridge, the one who covered my mouth with the foul-smelling cloth.

  They are speaking to another man whose voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place. Then there is the woman—the one from The Lenox, perhaps. The one whose conversation I eavesdropped on, the woman who was on her knees in front of Jaxon.

  Nothing makes any sense. Even less so, the longer I listen and pick up bits and pieces of their conversation.

  “He marked her. I saw it with my own fucking eyes,” Neil yells. “He’ll come for her. He’s already killed Ken, drained him, and left his body outside her friend’s house.”

  “If you listened to me in Boston, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Jaxon Krieger’s company wouldn’t have purchased…”

  I try to move closer so I could better hear, but when I do, the chair I am sitting on skids loudly across the floor.

  Fuck. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself. I try to remain as still as possible, but my body is so nervous it begins to shake uncontrollably.

  “Sounds like sleeping beauty is awake. Go check on her, Neil.”

  I still can’t place the man's voice, but when he speaks to Neil, there is a familiarity to his tone.

  “I’ll go check on her,” the woman says.

  I hear heeled steps echoing down the hall as the woman from The Lenox approaches. I am not sure if I should be grateful or not that Neil isn’t going to be the one checking on me. With my eyes tightly blindfolded and my hands tied behind my back, all I can do is sit on the hard chair and listen as she enters the room and walks around me.

  When her footsteps stop, I jump as her hair brushes against my shoulder when she whispers in my ear, “I knew you were trouble the moment I saw your picture on Jaxon’s desk. Oh, he thought I didn’t see it, hidden under his laptop.”

  “I… I don’t know what picture you’re talking about.” Is this woman as bat-shit crazy as the rest of them? She must be. It is absurd to think that Jaxon would have a picture of me. Where would he even get it, and when?

  “I can see why he likes you, though.” I feel her fingers graze against my neck. “His bite is so nice, isn’t it? Especially as he’s fucking you. That is always my favorite.”

  Anger quickly replaces the fear I was feeling. I know I have no claim on Jaxon. He made that point very clear when he left me this morning. But the thought of him fucking anyone but me makes me want to rip her throat out.

  I feel her reach behind my head and untie the blindfold. I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. The bright light coming through the door causes me to squint. I look around the room to familiarize myself with where I am. The small space is empty except for a twin size bed and the chair I’m currently tied to.

  When she moves to stand in front of me, I instantly recognize the outfit she has on as one of mine. And then I notice her hair, which she styled to look similar to mine.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I figure I’ll start with the most straightforward question.

  Her smile as she speaks is nothing short of evil. “I thought you would have recognized me from Boston when you saw me in the lobby, but you didn’t.”

  My mind races through where in Boston I would have met her, and then it dawns on me. I didn’t meet her at all. I only saw her as my fiancé fucked her from behind as she was bent over our couch.

  “You were the bitch fucking my fiancé?”

  “He was fucking me when you walked in as I recall.” As if that isn’t bad enough, she continues to speak, “But Neil is no Jaxon, don’t you agree?”

  I hate how she tosses Jaxon’s name around like they are a couple. Maybe they are, and that’s why he continued to have some next-level moral dilemma and left. Perhaps his guilt was getting the best of him.

  “It’s just a bonus really, that you picked up and moved to New York, and then a series of unfortunate accidents landed you in Jaxon’s bed, and in my way.”

  Oh, this bitch is pulling out all the heavy ammunition, isn’t she?

  “I don’t even understand what this is all about. You can have Neil. Fuck, you can have Jaxon, too. I don’t care.” Well, that last part is a bitter lie, I do care. I tried to tell myself that what we had was just one night of mind-blowing fantastic sex. But then he went and showed up at The Tower apartment, acting as if he cared, only to leave again with some lame excuse about a conference call with China.

  Her laugh is almost a cackle, but more dainty and perfect. Fine, it doesn't quite cackle at all, but a cute little laugh that I’m sure drives men like Jaxon crazy.

  “Do you honestly think this is about getting some man? Oh, sweetie, you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for.” She stands in front of me, her hands perched on her slim hips. “This is about power, and they have it. I want it. It’s as simple as that. Neil and his father were easy. Men, especially human men, have weak minds.”

  She taps her head to emphasize her point. Oh yeah, she is off her fucking rocker. Human men? Did I miss a left turn in Albuquerque, where I veered into the twilight zone? Although, memories from the past few days dance through my head, starting with seeing Jaxon at Rise that first night and ending with everyone's concern about a bite mark on my neck, but…

  I must be going as crazy as everyone else if I’m contemplating Jaxon being… Nope, no, I am not going to go there. That theory is beyond ludicrous.

  “Human men?” The ridiculous question is out of my mouth before I can think better of it.

  “Yes, men, unlike Jaxon. Weak-minded human men, like Neil and his father.”

  No. No way is any of that real. I want to keep her talking, if for no other reason than I fear what is to become of me. I don’t have to wait long for my answer.

  She leans down to whisper into my ear. I know whatever she is going to say are words I didn’t want to hear. “You’ll be bait.” A shiver runs down my spine. Bait. They are using me as bait.

  I can’t help the tremble in my voice when I ask, “Bait for what?”

  “For Jaxon, of course.” She looks at me as if I should know the answer to her absurd statement. For a brief moment, confusion mars her features, then she grabs my head, and violently pushes it to the side to inspect my neck closer.

  Whatever she sees, or rather doesn’t see, sends an angry curse through her lips as she turns on her heels and stomps out of the room.

  “He didn’t fucking bite her!” she yells as she makes her way down the hall, back to the men who hold my well-being in the palm of their hands. “It’s a god damned fucking hickey. You said he fucking bit her,” she spats out.

  “He did. She has his mark on her neck,” Neil answers, though I can hear the fear in his voice. Whomever this woman is, she has grown men cowering. “I saw it myself.”

  “He won’t come for her if they have no blood bond. He won’t even know where she is. She’s useless to us.”

  I can hear the woman yelling at all three of the men who tried to unsuccessfully provide her an explanation as to why I have only a hickey on my neck. But their words and statements make no sense.

  “She’s nothing but human.” Neil retorts. “Fuck.”

  “She was at the Black Door Club. She has to be more than human, or she wouldn’t be allowed in,” the woman snaps back. “I don’t make mistakes, and she’s more than she seems.”

  “But, her scent is nothing but human,” Ridge adds. “I don’t make mistakes either.”

  Oh… my God, my fate is going to dangle in the hands of the insane. These people are talking science fiction, arguing my genetics as if I can be anything but human. And my scent—what is he, part dog?

  A cold sweat breaks out across my face. I am trying to calm myself, but the more they talk, the less value my life seems to hold.

  “We’re just going to have to show him she’s in danger. When he sees that she is dying, he’ll come.” The older man’s voice who I
now suspect is Neil's father holds no remorse in sentencing me to a “near-death,” as he so eloquently puts it.

  “I won’t be part of hurting her. Jaxon is one thing. He’s become too powerful. But I refuse to be a part of hurting an innocent woman!” Ridge roars out. He must have slammed his fist onto a desk or a wall because the bang following his confession of not wanting to hurt me shakes the entire house.

  Before he can go on, the sugary-sweet voice of the queen bitch herself pipes in.

  “While that's very noble of you, Ridge, you’ve already done your part in sealing her fate. So don’t go growing a conscience now, because it’s not going to do you or her any good.”

  Wow, she really is a heartless fucking bitch.

  I look around the sparse little room that I currently sit in. There are no windows, nothing that gives me any clue as to where I am. I have no idea how long I was unconscious. I guess it wasn’t more than a few hours, at most. I try to listen for sounds of the city, but I hear nothing but my captors’ footsteps and whispers, now well beyond earshot.

  I sit in silence, trying to listen for any clue as to where I am being held, but everything has gone quiet. After what seems like an eternity, I can hear the faint sound of footsteps making their way down the hall.

  I have hope that it will be Ridge, with his noble conscience getting the better of him. But the man who stands in the doorway with a sneer on his face is anything but noble. I suspect he doesn’t have any conscience to speak of.

  Neil’s father takes only a few cautionary steps into the room as if engaging with me further will add to his guilt. “My son still loves you, despite your recent… indiscretions with Jaxon.”

  “Well, your psychotic son has a funny way of showing it,” I bite back. “And the… indiscretions, as you call them, were all between Neil and whoever that bit…woman is.” I met Neil Colebrook Senior more than a few times. While he always seemed more business-oriented than family-centered, I would never think it possible that he would be involved in whatever this is.

  “Jaxon Krieger isn’t the man you think he is. He’s not a man at all. He’s not even human. Did you know that?” His laugh is nothing short of maniacal as I listen to his foolish ramblings. “Of course, you didn’t. You’re still naive to the world around you.”