by L. D. Rose
Jacques wondered exactly what Ballard had planned for him. Apparently, his fate with the sire was far worse than a severed tongue.
Victor’s eyes were wild, his body trembling, a terrified rabbit cornered by a wolf. “I’ll find her, I promise—”
“Shut up,” Jacques hissed, aiming the knife at his socket. All he wanted to do was slice open the little bastard’s carotids and shower in his blood. “Enough with the fucking promises. Adieu, Victor. See you in hell.”
And with that, Jacques stalked back upstairs while Victor begged him to end his life, his hysterical shouts echoing into the bowels of the building.
~ ~ ~
Dax sensed her hovering over him before he was fully awake.
His grip tightened on the KA-BAR beneath his pillow while he forced the rest of his body to remain still, willing his muscles to relax. No easy feat, stifling his instincts and the reflex to draw the blade, but once the knowledge of her presence settled in his fogged brain, his defenses eased. His eyes burned behind his lids from lack of rest, informing him that he’d only slept for a few hours.
She lingered beside him, hesitant, nervous, as if she couldn’t bring herself to rouse him. So he spared her the trouble and opened his eyes, still holding the knife firmly.
A smile tried to grab hold of her lips but missed. She hugged herself, the hood of her gray sweatshirt tugged over her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Dax’s chest squeezed at the mention of Maddy and he released his grip on the knife, shifting under the fleece blanket. Cindy must’ve mistaken it for an invitation, because she suddenly climbed on top of him, driving the air from his lungs and flipping his heart behind his ribs.
While his pulse drummed a rapid cadence in his ears, she tucked into the crook between him and the back of the couch, nestling against him with a shiver. He’d raised his arms to give her room, but as she trembled beside him, he lowered them around her, adjusting his position so they both fit comfortably on the sofa. Her hand curled in his T-shirt, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder while he covered them both with the blanket.
He didn’t know why he did it, but it felt right.
For a moment, they just lay there, her shaking, him cranked tight as a spring. Finally, he rubbed a hand along her back, swallowing hard at the curious twinge in his chest. Her chills eased at the contact, her breath deepening, her palm flattening over his heart. Twilight ensconced them in its shroud, the draped windows blotting out the afternoon sun.
Look at you, cradling her in your arms, soothing the leech who brought this whole mess down on you.
No. He didn’t enjoy the feel of her against him, her body meshed to his as if it belonged there. He didn’t inhale her cherry-and-ash scent in long, deep draws because it calmed him like nothing else could, because it fooled him into believing she was good and innocent, with a soul that hadn’t been corrupted like the others. He didn’t want to stay with her like this because for once in his goddamn life he felt a measure of peace with her huddled in his arms.
No. He didn’t care about her.
“Dax,” she murmured, barely audible over the din of his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.” She shifted to look at him, her eyes glistening, vulnerable. “For burying her. For . . . everything.”
He studied her face, every line, movement, and flicker. A hint of color had returned to her skin, her lips a vibrant red, flushed from her recent shower. He longed to touch them, to trace them with his fingers, to prove the gorgeous creature before him wasn’t a figment of his imagination.
So he did.
Framing her cheek with his hand, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip slowly, tenderly, before tracing the top with the same care. Soft, silken flesh quivered against him as she stilled beneath his touch, uncertain at first. But soon she leaned into him, nuzzling his hand, kissing his fingertips gently.
Dax glimpsed his reflection in the galaxies of her eyes, desire lighting tiny flames in the infinite darkness, mirroring his own. She must’ve seen it, because she covered his hand with hers and slipped his thumb in her mouth, her teeth settling around its base before she sucked.
He instantly hardened, his blood diverting south as his groin swelled underneath her. The monster inside him roared to the surface, rattling the cage of his body and honing its predatory focus on her. His fangs lengthened as she ran her wet tongue along the pad of his thumb, firing off every nerve in his skin, all the way to his toes.
She bit down, her fangs nipping him, and it nearly drove him over the edge.
Let go, a voice whispered into the recesses of his skull, the timbre of the demon in his blood. No one has to know. Take her.
The tenuous thread of his inhibitions snapped, unleashing all his illicit wants and desires as lust seized control of him. Guilt, doubt, any semblance of human shame disappeared, dropping down the deepening well of darkness within him. Drawing his thumb from her mouth, he cupped the nape of her neck and dragged her to him. Their lips collided, tongues burying in each other with a hunger so intense he wasn’t sure where his began and hers ended.
His hands tangled in her hair as she straddled him, fists in his shirt, grinding her hips against his. He tugged her head back, breaking the kiss to taste her throat, his throbbing teeth scraping along delicate skin, his tongue stroking her rapid pulse and leaving her gasping.
Pushing a hand under her sweatshirt, he grasped her breast, squeezed, his thumb grazing the bud of her nipple. Her flesh filled his palm perfectly, soft, tight, round, and he yanked the fabric higher, ready to devour every inch of her—
A heavy fist knocked on the front door, the thump-thump-thump jolting them both apart.
“Frosty?” A familiar brogue rumbled behind it. “You in here?”
Kayne. Shit.
“Who’s that?” Cindy breathed, her heart punching his palm.
For a moment, Dax considered ignoring him, just waiting it out until he left so they could finish what they’d started. Fuck, he desperately wanted to finish. But knowing Kayne, the Shamrock would scour every crevice of this decrepit complex for him, especially with the Mako outside, since Kayne tended to be one anxious bastard without a drink in him.
Dax met her liquid eyes, hooded, sexy, burning hot. Goddamn it. He kissed her one last time, dragging his teeth across her lower lip before he lifted her off him, his cock aching at the loss.
“C’mon,” he murmured, the slow drip of panic seeping into his gut. “You’ve got to hide.”
Disappointment and frustration tightened her features, but he didn’t miss the flash of fear in her gaze. “Is he your brother?”
“No, but he’s hybrid, like me.”
“Dax?” Kayne, louder now, with more oomph.
Dax cleared the gravel from his throat as they both scrambled off the couch. “Yeah, I’m here. Give me a sec.”
“Where should I go?” she whispered, her fear obvious now.
“Upstairs.” He guided her to the stairwell. “The closet or under the bed. Anywhere, just stay out of sight. He can’t know you’re here.”
She nodded as she climbed the stairs but paused halfway up and turned back to him. Her throat worked, her grip white-knuckled on the railing before she asked, “Will he hurt me?”
“I don’t know.” Dax set his jaw, resolve steeling his spine. “But I won’t let him. Now go, hurry.”
“Are you jacking off in there?” Kayne shouted way too loudly.
I wish. Dax looked down at the tent in his pants and readjusted the heavy weight of his package. Maybe he should wrap the blanket around himself to avoid the embarrassment. With his gums still pulsing around his fully-extracted fangs, he took a few deep breaths, trying to cool himself off, thinking of anything but he
r hot mouth sucking on his thumb.
Or other parts of his anatomy.
Strapping his raging hard-on behind his waistband, he grabbed the blanket anyway and draped it over his shoulders like a cape. His mouth, on the other hand, was a lost cause, so he gave up and headed for the door before Kayne busted in.
Grasping the handle, he listened for a beat to ensure Cindy wasn’t still running around upstairs. Then he swung open the door as Kayne raised a fist again.
“What?” Dax snapped, automatically surveying the staircase behind the Irishman to confirm he wasn’t followed.
Kayne’s grass-green eyes looked him up and down, from the top of his tousled head to his bare feet. He didn’t miss the taint in Dax’s gaze and the fullness of his mouth, though, and the Shamrock’s lips curved with amusement. “You were jacking off, weren’t you?”
Dax shot him a withering glare. “I was sleeping.”
Kayne laughed, a toss-your-head-back wicked kind of laugh. “Sure you were. My timing is impeccable.”
You have no fucking idea. “What do you want?”
“I want to see your new digs, Snowman.” He grinned, the humor in his eyes so bright Dax couldn’t stay mad at him. “Looking to get a beach house meself. You going to let me have a gander?”
Anxiety gave Dax’s chest another pinch. Not like he could say no. He just hoped Cindy was tucked away and secured. “Yeah.” He stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”
Rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm, Kayne practically hopped to it while Dax shook his head at him. Although Dax let him have free reign, tension pricked his skin with each room Kayne explored, the Irishman taking in all the details much like Dax had before. Kayne cocked a brow at the mess in the kitchen and Dax shrugged, breathing past the wedge in his throat. When the Irishman scaled the stairs in twos, Dax’s heart nearly beat right out of his ribcage, and he prayed Cindy hadn’t left any incriminating evidence of her presence.
As Kayne passed Maddy’s room, spotting the residual taped pink corners of the torn sign, he spared Dax an inquiring glance.
“You don’t want to go in there,” Dax warned, fighting back the phantom visions looming over his eyes.
Dirt sifting over a pink comforter, sullying Cinderella’s face, the scent of earth and death in his nose—
He squashed the thought, splattering its guts all over his brain.
“Duly noted.” Kayne inclined his head, the spark of humor fizzling out at the expression on Dax’s face. Finally, the Shamrock descended the stairs while Dax tailed him, frantically scanning the area when his friend wasn’t looking.
Once they were back in the living room, Kayne cast aside the curtains and pushed open the double doors to the balcony, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “You should move here. This place suits you.”
That’s a nope-train to fuck-that-ville. Dax pasted on a smile. “Maybe when I retire.”
“Ha, right. You can always join us, you know.” A gentle breeze drifted in, carrying the sharp bite of a cold front. “Take over Little Rhody if you’d like.”
“I don’t know, man. Once a Senary, always a Senary.” Dax chuckled, eliciting a dirty look from the Irishman. “You and Rome can fight over me. Winner takes all. I’d pay to see that.”
Kayne let out a hearty laugh. “He’ll win. He always does. Fucking unfair advantage, the bastard.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself.” Dax smirked. “You want a drink or anything?”
“Got any of the black stuff?”
“What do you think?”
Kayne lifted his brow. “That’s not sour?”
“Brought a six-pack from the City, just for you.” Finally comfortable enough to throw the blanket aside, Dax strode into the kitchen, running his tongue over the back of his now normal teeth. He opened the fridge, eyes immediately snared by his blood supply. He counted the piled-up units, a paranoid habit bred from fear of losing his priceless stash. Every donor was accounted for, indicating that Cindy hadn’t pilfered more blood.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled two bottles of Guinness from the shelf, popping the caps. If he kept Kayne distracted enough, maybe his friend wouldn’t notice he was hoarding a vampire.
“Aw, aren’t you an auld flower?” Kayne said when Dax returned.
“Only yours.” Dax stepped onto the balcony, handing him a bottle and taking a swig of his own. They both leaned on the railing, looking out over the serene ocean beyond. The rope of panic around his chest loosened now that they were outside and away from the danger of discovering her.
He hoped she stayed put.
“Ever heard of a leech named Victor Catalin?” Kayne asked, idly wiping the moisture from the beer bottle’s label.
Dax gulped down the taste of malted barley and shook his head. “Should I know him?”
“He’s a bloodsucker from Newport who pimps out whores to the top guns.”
Dax stilled, heart somersaulting as he zeroed his attention on the Shamrock.
“Fucking maggot has a penchant for heroin, so he barters the girls for skag,” Kayne continued after guzzling half the bottle in a single swig. “He has quite a circle of junkies who are loyal to him. After all, he supplies them with dope and pussy, so he’s a bloody god to them. Enzo was a big client of his, but the boss’s mob perceives Catalin as a threat. Rumor on the street is they started cutting Vicky’s heroin with silver nitrate, so Catalin injects the girls before himself as a precaution.”
“No shit.” Nausea rolled through Dax, but he forced neutrality into his tone. The tangy stout in his stomach churned into acid, rising up the back his throat.
Cindy must’ve been one of Catalin’s girls. It made perfect sense.
No wonder she’d surrendered so easily.
“Last night someone burned Catalin’s place to the ground—a fucking convent, mind you—leaving nothing but roasted bodies behind. At first, the fellas and I thought it was Enzo’s posse—maybe they assumed Catalin had something to do with your yacht performance—but then we got wind that Ballard sent his leeches after him.”
“Ballard?” Dax turned to him, totally engrossed now. The Sire of New England? “Why would Caldre give a fuck about Catalin?”
“My thoughts exactly, lad. Tiago had a run-in with one of the parasites last night and worked him a little. Looks like they’re searching for someone, one of Vicky’s girls. Apparently, Ballard wants her bad enough to deep-fry Catalin’s whole ring. And you know what the crazy thing is? She was on that boat with Enzo . . . with you.”
Kayne leveled his shrewd eyes with Dax, the look landing like a physical blow. Dax stared back at him with the bottle halfway to his mouth, suddenly unable to breathe, his lungs deflating like balloons.
“I killed everyone on that boat.” He said each word calmly, deliberately, keeping the alarm out of his voice and off his face.
Kayne shrugged. “I believe you, Frosty. But they don’t. Now they’re after you.”
Dax downed the rest of his beer without another implicating word, his mind sprinting a goddamn marathon. Shit. This was bad fucking news. What did Cindy know? Why were they after her? Did she belong to Ballard?
Anger ignited at the center of him, lighting the acid on fire like gasoline. What the fuck is going on?
“Do you remember seeing Enzo with anyone? A female?” Kayne asked as he pushed off the railing, straightening.
Dax shook his head, lying straight through his teeth, and it only pissed him off even more. “Enzo had plenty of females on that ship. She could’ve been any one of them.”
Except she wasn’t.
Kayne nodded. “I’m not sure what Ballard wants from her, but whatever it is, he wants it bad. If she’s dead, all the better—maybe her body will surface somewhere. Until then, he thinks you have her, an
d it looks like he’ll stop at nothing to get her back.”
Fan-fucking-tastic. Another giant shitstorm he didn’t need.
“Some vacation, huh?” Kayne chuckled, nudging him.
Dax sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I expect nothing less.”
Kayne gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. “Figured I’d give you a heads-up. Just watch your back a little closer. No one knows where you are. Me or one of the fellas can stay—”
Dax shot him a don’t-even-go-there look. “Please, bro, are you fucking serious?”
Kayne grinned. “What? I’m simply putting the offer on the table.”
“Well, put it back in your pants. I can take care of my own shit, fuck you very much, lad.”
Kayne pitched a dramatic sigh. “Thy ego bruises deeper than the flesh—”
Oh Christ, here we go. “Save the preaching for the preacher, boyo.” Dax aimed a finger at him. “I get enough of that shit at home.”
“You’d say that, you douchebag.” Kayne laughed, giving Dax’s arm another whack. “I’m sweeping Newport tonight thanks to Vicky bringing all the boys to the yard. Care to join me? Or would you rather do it yourself, oh great invincible ninja master sensei?”
Dax cracked a smile, but unease lassoed his chest again. He’d have to leave Cindy here alone, for better or worse. “Yeah, I’m up for it. God knows you need all the help you can get. You heading out now?”
“No better time.” Kayne indicated the horizon before sauntering back inside. “We’re running out of sunlight, Snowflake. I brought extra gear and a small arsenal in the Explorer, all ready to party. We’ll get crunk, as you Americans say.”
Dax chuckled, hesitantly pushing off the railing. The last thing he wanted was to strike any more suspicion, since he already fucked up on their last mission. True, Kayne believed him for now, but at this rate, it wouldn’t last. Dax couldn’t hide Cindy forever, and it seemed everyone was closer to exposing his dirty little secret.
