Haunted by Your Touch (12 page)

“Oh, it’s good. I promise.”

Then I whispered what I needed him to do, waiting until I got a nod of confirmation before walking through the double doors into Bonecrushers.

Several heads turned, and mutterings swept through the crowd. Even the singer on stage paused in his rendition of the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Disarm” to stare at me. It seemed like everyone had heard the tale Jack had spread, but then again, such shocking charges against Rafael would travel at the speed of light. I was only relieved that my aunt and uncle hadn’t had the chance to tell their Partial friends about my initial, mistaken belief about Rafael. If I hadn’t used those gateways to cross back over right when I had, I would’ve been too late to stop the flow of information on that side.

I jumped onto the top of the nearest table, my new vantage point making it easy to see that the doors to Bonecrushers were now closed. Then, just in case anyone wasn’t paying attention, I fired two rounds into the ceiling.

“People, we have Purebloods hiding in Nocturna,” I called out loudly.

Various ominous rumblings sounded at that statement, punctuated by a few calls of “Rafael” and “Kill the fucking Pureblood!”

“I know what Jack told you about Rafael, but it’s not true,” I went on, still in that same ringing voice. “Rafael is
not
a Pureblood. Jack lied, and the reason he did is because he’s a Pureblood himself.”

An eruption of shouts followed this statement. I waited for the initial roar to die down before speaking again.

“In fact, there’s more—”

“Don’t believe her!” a voice screeched out. Heads swung toward the singer, who pointed his guitar at me. “She’s lying to cover for Rafael, so she must be a Pureblood like him!” he continued emphatically. “Jack’s been a trusted guard here for over a hundred years, but
she
just strolled in the past decade. You’re going to believe her over him? She also just
happened
to survive a Pureblood attack, when everyone knows no one survives those!”

I was once again the center of attention—this time, with a wave of animosity from the crowd that was palpable. Bonecrushers catered to the toughest, wildest Partials in Nocturna. If this crowd charged me, I’d be toast, even with my guns.

“Yes, I’m new here,” I called out, not showing the slightest sign of fear to incite them. “Yes,
Jack’s been here for over a century, and yes, I survived a Pureblood attack when almost no one lives through those. In fact, I survived two of them. What are the odds of
that
, right? But let me prove who the real Purebloods are—”

The hole in the roof over the fire pit suddenly exploded with movement. Black wings fanned smoke and embers as Rachael burst through, dropping Jack’s bound form onto the top of the crowd. He bobbled for a second on various heads and shoulders before thudding to the ground when people scrambled to get out of the Fallen’s way as she landed beside him. A surge of patrons went for the doors, shouts ringing out when they found them blocked.
Thank you, Billy
, I said silently. I knew the Halfie could find a way to barricade them in time.

“Stop!” I yelled. “She’s with me!”

It might have been sheer amazement that slowed the mad scramble for the door, although a few people still tried to claw their way out. I only had seconds to make my point before chaos took over, so I hurried to continue.

“We all know Fallen feed off Purebloods.
Purebloods, not Partials
. If Jack isn’t a Pureblood, then that Fallen can’t steal the essence out of him.”

“Finally,” Rachael muttered before snatching Jack up. She ripped the duct tape off his mouth, but Jack didn’t even get the chance to scream before her lips sealed over his.

“Someone stop her!” the singer shouted.

No one moved toward Rachael. She had an empty circle around her that allowed for easier viewing as Jack thrashed in her arms, his eyes bulging in horror as she continued her deep, lethal kiss. After only a few seconds, he began to shudder, and then he went abruptly limp even as lights danced in an intricate pattern across Rachael’s lovely skin. She dropped Jack’s lifeless body to the floor as those lights on her skin ebbed, and then wiped her mouth almost daintily on a wing.

This was the second time I’d seen this in less than a day, so I wasn’t shocked like most of the other onlookers. I spoke up in the sudden stunned quiet.

“Jack kidnapped me and handed me over to a Pureblood, who pulled me through to the next realm. Then Jack made up that story about Rafael to cover what he’d done and to get rid of Rafael. But when I was in the next realm, this Fallen came across the Pureblood and ate him.
She brought me back here because I promised to give her another Pureblood as payment. Earlier, Jack told me who the other Purebloods were. They’re in this bar—”

A flash of metal caught my vision. I’d kept a wary eye on him and the other person I knew was a Pureblood, so I had time to lunge before the gunshot rang out, firing back even as white-hot pain blasted through me. My quick reaction meant the shot tore through my upper arm instead of my heart, so the impact spun me around, but I didn’t collapse. Instead, I dropped to one knee and fired again, striking the shooter a second time. He tried to raise his gun at me again, but a large form barreled into him, knocking it away.

“Hold him,” Rafael’s stern voice commanded amidst the sudden pile of people jumping in to restrain Lance, the singer who’d shot me.

“She’s lying! The bitch is lying!” Lance screamed.

“As you can guess,” I rasped, raising my voice, “Lance is one of the two Purebloods here. Hank, our friendly neighborhood bartender, is the other.”

Rafael reached me right as several people
hauled Hank over the wooden countertop. Rafael pulled me into his arms, shielding me from any other potential gunshots. Over the wide shoulders of my mate, I saw Hank disappear into the crowd of furious Partials. While Lance still shrieked and cursed me, Hank was oddly silent. He must have realized his fate had been sealed as soon as Rachael had dropped through that smoke hole.

Speaking of Rachael, she still stood in the center by the fire pit, watching the melee around her with a distinct little smirk.

“You Partials are more entertaining than I remembered,” I heard her remark over Lance’s screams and the rough cheers at whatever was being done to him and Hank. Then she caught my eye, nodded once, and flew back out the way she’d come in.

“Mara, your arm,” Rafael muttered, setting me back to rip the sleeve off his jacket and tie it around me.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” I replied, wincing at the pressure from the makeshift bandage. “And
you
weren’t supposed to come here until I convinced everyone that you’re not a Pureblood.”

He grunted. “I wasn’t about to stay in the other realm
wondering if my mother would keep her word. I watched over you from the skies while you captured Jack. Then I stayed out of sight in the fields when you came in here, but once I heard the gunshots, I had to get to you.”

I couldn’t criticize. If it had been me outside hearing the gunshots, I wouldn’t have stayed away either, danger or no danger. Luckily for us, by the time the shots had rung out, the people inside had seen enough to realize Jack had been lying.

And luckily for us, Rafael had put on his shirt and coat while waiting in the fields, so the markings on his back were concealed from any curious eyes.

His large hands stroked my face before he kissed me. The feel of his mouth, combined with the joy of wrapping my arms around him, even though one throbbed painfully, made the rough surroundings fade away. By the time he lifted his head, I didn’t even notice the shouts around us as the Partials administered their own form of justice to the two Purebloods.

“Let’s leave,” Rafael murmured. “I have a doctor at my castle who can treat your arm.”

“It can wait a little longer. We need to get my
sister back home. She’s still at Jack’s cabin, pouting because I wouldn’t let her come with me.”

Rafael shook his head with a snort. “Another stubborn Partial, eh?”

“It runs in the family,” I whispered before kissing him again. Lena would be thrilled when I told her she could come here to visit me—and my father would be glad when I told him I’d only let her travel through the gateway in Rafael’s castle, so she would avoid the town until she was older.

“Let’s go, my mate,” I said once we broke the kiss.

His smile took away even the pain in my arm. “Yes. First back to your world, and then back to our home.”

I grinned at him. “Our home, huh? I’m glad you see it that way, because I intend to make a few changes.”

A brow rose. “Changes?”

“We’ll start with the front hall,” I said, letting him lead me out of Bonecrushers. “Really, Rafael, ‘medieval chic’ is
so
last century.…”

Shayla Black

Mathias attacked the Lowery estate and burned it to the ground. The family is dead.”

Raiden Wolvesey staggered and fell against the nearby wall. Those terrible words repeated over and over in his head.

The
entire
family dead? Including Tabitha… and the child she’d been carrying?
His
child?

He’d never said good-bye, held her one last time.

The pain swept over him, fast and unmerciful, like a forest fire out of control. He struggled to stay upright, deny the news. Though he’d been witness to the aftermath of other such attacks, he refused to believe it until he saw her body himself.

After wreaking havoc on magickind for months, Mathias d’Arc, an evil wizard recently
returned from exile, had been quiet for weeks, his indiscriminate raping and killing of magic-kind paused. He claimed to commit his crimes against the wizarding upper class, the Privileged, in the name of lifting the Deprived, magickind’s lower class, to power.

Liberation based on blood and pain and torture?
Rubbish!
Raiden shook his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not going alone,” the bearer of the bad news said from the doorway.

Bram Rion. He led the Doomsday Brethren, a handful of warriors devoted to stopping Mathias. They’d taken to hiding in this series of caves like damn underground rodents scurrying for shelter. While others above them died. Like beautiful Tabitha.

Her fiery hair, her laughter, her hazel eyes… all gone?

Fury assailed him, and it was all he could do not to charge across the room and rip Bram’s blond head off. “I’m going. I have to see if there’s any way…”

Raiden raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t even talk about the possibility of Tabitha’s death, much less accept it.

“The neighbors reported fires. When Caden and Ice”—Bram referenced two of the Doomsday Brethren’s other members—“teleported over to investigate, they found no survivors. You won’t solve anything by going there.”

“If someone had attacked Emma’s house, wouldn’t you investigate personally?” Raiden snarled, referring to Bram’s mysterious mate. She’d bonded with him, then disappeared after just one night.

Bram raised a brow. “It’s different. Tabitha wasn’t your mate. In fact, didn’t you spend last night with another woman?”

Raiden steeled himself. Yes, he had. A human whose name he couldn’t recall. And didn’t he regret that now? While trying to avoid Tabitha so she could have a safer, better life, he’d left her to face Mathias alone.

Self-loathing ate his stomach like acid.

He shot Bram a menacing glare. “I’m going. I don’t care if you come with me or not.”

Forcing himself to concentrate, Raiden took a deep breath, centered his magic, and teleported to the Lowery estate.

The grand home lay in ruins, blackened, ransacked as if someone had searched it high and
low. The devastation was absolute—and like a fist in his gut. Bodies were strewn on the lawn. Her mother, father, two brothers.

No Tabitha.

Raiden prowled through the charred remains of the house, which still smoldered with the aftereffects of the fire. No one in the foyer, the sitting room, the bedrooms. Upstairs—or what was left of it—downstairs, servants’ quarters… all empty. With every step, his fear for Tabitha burned hotter. Panic rose.

He could think of only two reasons Tabitha’s body wasn’t among the dead: either she’d miraculously escaped, or Mathias had taken her with him. If the latter, the bastard would torture the beautiful witch unmercifully before ending her life in a cataclysm of humiliation and pain.

Suddenly, he heard a little whooshing sound and he whirled, heart chugging, anticipating a fight. Hell, he welcomed one. Instead, he found Bram. Again.

“She’s not here.”

As Raiden could plainly see. But he wouldn’t rest until he found her… one way or the other. “You didn’t mention that.”

“You didn’t let me.”

Fucking semantics. Raiden had no time for them. “I must keep searching. Maybe… she escaped and sought refuge elsewhere.”

“Maybe.”

Bram didn’t sound convinced, and Raiden stifled the urge to rage at him. Doing so would make him feel better, but it wouldn’t bring back Tabitha.

With a sigh, Bram clapped him on the shoulder. “I know she’s expecting your child.”

“Yes,” Raiden choked.

God, yes. She wasn’t very far along, three months at most. If any other woman had ever conceived by him, he’d know exactly when because he never spent more than a single night with any of them, never went back for seconds. No attachments, ever. For Tabitha, he’d broken that cardinal rule. Repeatedly. He’d been unable to stay away, no matter how much better her life would have been without him.

“Rightfully, you’re concerned about the baby,” Bram placated. “Children are difficult for magic-kind to conceive, and I—”

“Shut up.” Not for anything would he confess his feelings about Tabitha to Bram. Hell, he barely understood them.

“Or is this about Tabitha herself? If you loved her, why didn’t you mate with her?”

Raiden didn’t want to have this discussion.

“I’m not wired like you or the others. You know my family was cursed so that we can’t sense our mates. The mating instinct was bred out of us generations ago,” he said, referring to the sixth sense that allowed a wizard to taste a woman and know if magic intended her for him.