Blackthorne (The Brotherhood of the Gate Book 1) (33 page)

Blackthorne was busy ushering his boss to the door and didn’t answer her until he had firmly shut the door behind him. He then crossed the room to lift her off her feet and carry her back to the bed. His face was full of questions but none were voiced in his next words.

“The strongest aura you can feed on is mine.” He spoke huskily as he leaned her head back on the pillows. She watched wordlessly as he carefully arranged the length of her hair over her shoulders, his big, scarred fingers snagging on a black strand here and there. She reached out her arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down to gently kiss his face, inhaling the glow of blue aura that she, in her hunger, could clearly see dance around his body. Tentatively, she inhaled a mouthful of the blue light. A small tear escaped and ran down the side of her face as she drank him in and then he kissed her again.

She felt her body relax and begin to heal with the influx of his spirit. Her nausea left her and something else took its place. Something flaming with heat and need.

“Hold me, Blackthorne. Let’s pretend we are normal, boring people with nothing more to worry about tomorrow than the gas and grocery bills,” she whispered, desperately trying to let go of her grief and anger for a moment.

He drew back for a moment to look into her eyes. “Even if we win, we can never be those people, not now my love. And, if we are truthful, not before either. We are doomed to be interesting people who will probably meet a bad end.”

“Then let’s meet it head on and go out with a bang.”

He bent to kiss her and lost himself in her all over again. He would never be able to articulate how much he longed for her…he was a warrior, not a poet. But he swore to himself that moment if God had pity on him and allowed them both to live through the next forty-eight hours, he would spend what eternity was given to them trying to show Rhi how much both his body and spirit needed and loved her.

He picked her tiny body up in his arms and carefully placed her on the already turned down king-sized bed near the wall. Her eyes glowed and she stared at his face while he carefully undressed her, with as much gentleness as he could muster, stroking her skin and punctuating each movement with a rain of kisses.

He paused a moment to breathe, to just look at her. Her pale skin glowed and her black hair flowed over the pillows behind her head. His wife. She had never been anything else. In this life or the last one.

She reached out one hand. “Please? Come to me?”

The unsure sound of her voice almost broke his heart.

“You know you never have to w-w-wonder…” he started to say and stuttered. “I love you Rhi. I always have and I always will.”

“I don’t wonder about that, Jack. I just…I don’t want this to be all there is. I feel totally selfish thinking about us right now…is it wrong to want more?”

“I’ll give you everything forever…no matter how long it is for us.” There, now that was as poetic as it got.

She watched with a tentative smile as he undressed himself with a totally unapologetic stare, and the feel of her eyes made his cock heavier and harder than it already was, if that was possible. He moved over her, placing a hand on each side of her body, and she reached up to pull him into her warmth. He groaned at the touch of her hands around his neck, the flutter of her heartbeat against his chest.

“Everything,” he whispered and lowered his mouth to one pert little breast, and desire rolled over both of them, waves of heat between their bodies. He kissed the other breast and then settled in to suck and pull the little nubs gently with his teeth while his fingers delved into her wetness. She gasped and her legs fell open when he touched her mound and felt her warm liquid coating his fingers as he swirled them around her center, bringing her higher and higher.

She moved, pushing his hands away and wrapping her legs around him, pulling him more firmly on top of her, and his cock was at her entrance and he slipped inside her, just a bit.

“Damn it, Jack,” she gasped, moving more urgently, grinding against him.

“If we are gonna have forever tonight, shouldn’t I take my time?” he said with a laugh against her hair.

“Two can play at that game,” she told him and pushed him down onto his back. She rolled over to straddle his legs, and he swallowed a gasp when she leaned down to take his length in her hands and gave it a long lick.

“Uh…gruuugg,” he tried to say something, anything but completely lost it when her lips wrapped around him. He tangled his hands in her hair as she slipped her lips down his cock and back up, then slowly again inch by inch, and then again. This had never happened back in the 1800s, he could say that with a certainty.

“So, now…” she purred. “How much foreplay did you want again?”

He growled and pulled her to lie along the top of his body and then flipped her over. She opened her legs and as he devoured her mouth again he slowly glided into her tight little heat. He stopped and then started to move against her, filling her. Rhi, rocking with him, explored his skin with her hands and his face and mouth with her lips and tongue. He was lost in her glowing eyes and his soul, what was left of it, was lost in her heart.

His strokes slowly increased and the wet heated friction between their bodies exploded. Their lovemaking became fierce, as if their bodies were trying to get so close, they could not tell where one began and the other ended. They were two halves and for a millisecond, they were a whole being, one heartbeat.

He felt her walls convulse and heard Rhi cry out as the tide took her and then he could see or feel nothing other than his own shattering climax, as he poured himself into the other half of his soul.

»»•««

Afternoon the next day found them all in the cozy kitchen of Pearl’s historic gem of a home, draining the coffee pot and feeding Ellie Mae scraps of leftover steak.

Rhi, Blackthorne, and Molay began to pull on their gear as Pam, already dressed or maybe still dressed from the night before, impatiently kicked at her chair leg. Sheriff Nick Boyd sat on the counter nearby, glaring at his great-great grandmother over the rim of his coffee cup.

“If you had listened to me and kept them from opening casinos in this town, this would have never happened, Nana,” Nick stated, ignoring the startled glances of the other occupants of the room.

The slender woman stirring eggs on the gas range didn’t bat an eye or even bother to turn to face her grandson. “It would have made no difference at all, Nicky, I’ve told you that a hundred times.” She filled a plate with eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy and walked over to hand it to him. “Now eat your brunch, sweet pea, you need your strength. You look absolutely peaked.”

The motherly attitude of the woman toward the rugged policeman was as jarring as the fact that she looked at least ten years younger than Nick. The only flaw in her beauty was her red-rimmed eyes, bloody from crying and sleeplessness. The death of Houston had pained her terribly, her grief obvious and raw.

“That’s just weird, man,” Rhi muttered as she laced her boots. Her eyes weren’t red from weeping. That would come later. She rolled her grief for her dead friend and guilt over Katie into a poisonous ball and held it tight in the pit of her stomach. If it burst loose, she would be catatonic.

“
What
is taking so long?” Pam pulled her huge pistol, now carried openly in a shoulder holster, out to inspect it for the fifth time. “We have to meet your knights, Bobby Wayne, and his group of freaks at the Hospitality House in about fifteen minutes.”

The woman wore her grief and anger openly, like an icy badge. Pamela Douglas would spill blood soon. The premonition flowed around the thin blackjack dealer’s shoulders clearly to Rhi’s eyes. She could only pray that any acts fueled by the mother’s fury would not cost her friend her soul.

She straightened and walked toward the phone on the wall. “I’m waiting for a call.”

The phone rang as soon as she was near enough to reach it. At a nod from Pearl, she picked it up and spoke one word.

“What?”

“How rude, Mrs. Blackthorne.” Manius Blackthorne’s voice was smug and untouched by remorse.

“How’s Katie? Are you sick of Nickelodeon yet?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Rhi swallowed a smile, imagining the man’s discomfort at the other end of the line. He realized that she knew he would not touch the little girl or upset her in any way. He needed someone pure of heart, pure of intent.

“How do you know I haven’t cooked her up and fed her to my little friends?”

“Because I would feel it and destroy the skull immediately, shit head,” she retorted, gambling that he had no idea if she were able to destroy the skull or not. And Katie was a likely candidate to trick into willingly opening and closing the gate for him as well.

“I have to admit, the creature is growing on me. The little darling introduced me to the Cartoon Network this morning right after she ate her Pop Tarts. I’m no longer sure I want to give her back. She’s like my own little golden pet.”

She suppressed a shudder at the thought of the mass murderer watching television with Katie. He was capable of reaching out and snapping the child’s neck on a whim.

“I suppose you would like to meet me at moonrise tonight at my mausoleum?” She asked the question calmly.

“With the skull please, it is all I need. I know everything else that you would not share with me the last time we played. You can bring my brother, that dreadful bore Molay and his knights, Pearl, and that harridan you like to hang out with but that is it and they have to stay outside. I rather like the idea of them all right where I can see their brutish faces if I want to. Whatever plans you have cooked up are useless anyway. Bring me the skull and your pretty face and I’ll let the child take off down the hill with her mother. Screw with me and I’ll slit the girl’s teeny tiny throat right there. If you want to go to war over her, it will have to be after I have the skull in hand and the gate wide open. It’s the only way you will ever lay hands on the child,” he stated matter-of-factly and hung up. His confidence was unsettling. He didn’t care if Molay and the Brotherhood were with her. He had that much confidence in his power and minions.

She slid the phone back into its cradle and turned to face the room. Pam stood, her face intent. “Katie?”

“Driving him crazy with cartoons…we’ll get her back Pam. I promise.”

Rhi retrieved her Bible, gun, and the cavalry saber from the counter and picked up the heavy backpack Bobby Wayne had delivered early that morning at her request, refusing Blackthorne’s silent offer to carry it for her with a sharp glare. The less he knew about the bag, the better. “Coming?”

“We’ll meet you downtown in a few minutes. Nick has to finish his breakfast and be convinced of a few things, like why he can’t call out the national-guard,” Pearl said as Molay, Blackthorne, and Pam rose to follow Rhi from the room. The sheriff managed to look sheepish as they filed out.

Pam silently trudged beside her, her weapon at alert, eyes dead. Rhi took her friend’s arm and together they climbed into the Suburban to head for the red brick storefronts of downtown Cripple Creek.

The crowd gathered under Bobby Wayne’s direction was a motley collection of the best, worst, and weirdest citizens Cripple Creek had to offer. The Greek revival hotel, which had once served as the Teller County Hospital, had a fleet of well-used pickup trucks and SUV’s parked in front of the building. Inside some of the more open minded—and just plain weird—hunters, miners, survivalists, casino employees, and members of the Alien Abduction Club mingled and met.

The most frightening part, Rhi observed as she took stock of the group, was that they all were openly armed. It was obvious someone had told Betty they were hunting a type of vampire, because the older woman was completely decked out in warm, black, Goth clothing. Silver crosses hung from her neck and ears, and several wooden stakes were in her belt along with a wicked looking hunting knife and a.357 magnum.

After giving Rhi a comforting tap on the shoulder, Blackthorne, followed by Molay, deserted their group the moment they got into the front hall to engage Bobby Wayne in a quiet but intense conversation. Several extremely large, dangerous looking men with the same aged wisdom in their faces as Molay and Blackthorne himself stood off in a corner by themselves. They examined the crowd with looks that ranged from distrustful to downright amused. Pam’s father, Colonel Douglas, stood beside them on crutches, in full battle dress, another warrior. Rhi noticed her friend didn’t move to go greet her one functioning parent. The pain was too raw and the conversation would only be another agony. Both Douglases knew what had to be done.

Max Hunter, the general manager of the Silver Pearl, stood off to one side of the room as he dug through the pockets of his greatcoat, double-checking the locations of his ammunition and weapons. Max, a man of few words, grunted at the girls and continued his weapons check. Stephen, Rhi and Pam’s pit boss, stood nearby, holding both his and Max’s shotguns. He gave them a cheery nod. His normal timidity with human beings did not extend to demons.

“I wondered when you girls would get here,” Stephen said as they approached. “I should have known you would be at the center of something this weird.”

“What exactly have they told you?” Pam asked him curiously.

The pit boss looked amused. “That the forces of Hell were about to descend upon us like they did back in the gold rush days. I could have told them that those forces descended upon us long ago, when we decided to put in nickel slots near a town like Colorado Springs that is filled to the brim with military retirees.”

“So you knew about the fire and the fight in the 1800s?”

“Sure. Doesn’t everyone? My great-grandfather fought them. And now I guess I’ll have to as well, although there is also a good chance I’ll make a break for it if it gets nasty. You know how I feel about blood, especially my own.”

Pam and Rhi looked at each other in disgust. Did anyone else not know that Cripple Creek was overrun with evil except the both of them?