Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (13 page)

Dozens of other questions immediately popped into his mind, but Tasmin held his tongue. He had waited for plenty of things. He could wait two more days for this mysterious woman and whatever information she possessed. It was a relief, in so many ways… there would be far less time to get into real trouble here than he’d feared. Once he had enough information, he’d move on.

All things considered, that was his only option. Maybe it would be no matter where he went, if the demon that plagued him couldn’t be removed. The thought of living alone, with neither a pride nor a dynasty, left a dull ache deep in his chest.

Maybe then he might find the courage to end it. But not yet. Not until every shred of hope was gone.

“Thank you for this,” Tasmin said, and meant it. “I’m well aware it would be easier for you to simply run me off.”

Lily arched one auburn brow. “Not really. I’m nice, Tasmin, but I’m not stupid. You know you’d be a potent weapon in the wrong hands.”

He did know. But he didn’t have any intention of letting
that happen. “I would die first,” Tasmin said, and the words seemed to hang in the air, full of dark promise. He felt a cold spike of fear in the dark place in the center of himself… then nothing.

“Well,” Lily said, her voice gentler, “I don’t want to see that happen either. You’re the only one of your dynasty left, as far as we know. I think it would help us all to know what happened. Maybe we can prevent it from happening again.”

He heard what she didn’t say, that perhaps she could prevent it from happening to her own kind.

“I’ll prevent it by avenging my fallen brothers,” Tasmin said, his voice dropping to a near growl.

“But not now,” Lily said. “And not here.”

He gave a stiff nod, though he didn’t mean any agreement. He would do what he needed to once he discovered what had happened to his people, to him… and how to undo the latter. There had to be a way to make him whole again. He would do whatever it took to learn how to do that.

Tasmin stood. “I’ll take my leave.”

Lily smirked. “Always so formal. All right, Tasmin. Just… be careful when you’re out and about. You’re a little more noticeable than most of the vamps we have here. I’ll let you know when Kira can look at you.”

His jaw tightened as he walked away, though he knew the anger was as irrational as it always was. He would see the healer, she would find nothing… and in two days, he would begin to piece together all that was missing from his past. He could wait two days.

In the meantime, he would go out—properly dressed this time—and explore this little town. Maybe he could even try to enjoy it, something that had grown utterly
alien to him since he’d awakened. Tonight, though, he would be avoiding going anywhere near Bailey’s street, her shop… anything that smelled of her. It was time to start focusing on what was really important. Knowledge, for one. Vengeance, for another. She couldn’t be important to him, because he had no room for someone like her in his life.

It was too dangerous, for both of them.

S
HE WAS SUPPOSED
to be ghost hunting, not lion hunting.

“Did you hear that?” Beside her, Alex’s voice was breathless, as excited as a seven-year-old with a new toy. Most seven-year-olds didn’t carry around digital recorders and EMF detectors, though.

“I heard… something,” Bay murmured, trying to sound at least mildly interested in whatever bump or whisper Alex thought he’d picked up. Her attention, however, was focused on the large, dark shape she’d just seen slink past the window of the old, abandoned farmhouse they were investigating. The beam from Alex’s flashlight had caught it, but he’d panned the light so quickly she couldn’t be sure.

She could almost convince herself that it was one of the Lilim just screwing with her—they’d certainly done it before. But… that shape had been big. Really big. And really feline.

Maybe her overtaxed mind had invented it. Still, she
hoped nobody went outside for a pee break. They might get a lot more than they’d bargained for.

“Um, I’m going to… uh… I need some air for a minute,” Bay whispered. “Be right back.”

Alex, true to form, waved her off while he pressed the digital recorder to his ear, playing back whatever noise he’d thought he heard. Bay rolled her eyes and slipped away from him, trying to tread lightly on the creaky old floors so that she didn’t bring any of the other members of the Bonner County Paranormal Society running. A couple people were in what had been the kitchen, a couple in the cellar, and three were taking their chances with the questionable floors upstairs. The place was trashed, and famously haunted. At least, according to the local teens who’d left all these beer cans and empty plastic liquor bottles in here.

And… other things. Bay wrinkled her nose at a wadded-up pair of underwear and slipped out the door. She’d been hoping for some distraction tonight, since yesterday had been beyond frustrating. Not only had she wound up at the shop until eight last night thanks to Tasmin’s little sleeping trick, but Moses, one of the Saint Bernards she groomed, had slimed her so thoroughly that her scrubs had been stiff with dried drool when she got home.

Grimm might have a wet mouth, but only when he was nervous or hungry. It didn’t run like a faucet.

Regardless, tonight had been a bust as BCPS excursions went. This place was dead, and not in an interesting way. Alex, however, was as amped up as he always was. They’d gone out a couple of times last year—he was actually the reason she’d joined—but ultimately, she couldn’t date a guy who was the human equivalent of a golden
retriever. He seemed to be holding out hope she’d come around. Just like she was hoping he’d eventually forget about it.

He not only acted like a golden, he kissed like one. It wasn’t pretty.

Bay breathed deeply as she stepped out into the cold. The dusting of snow from a couple nights ago had melted, but more was in the forecast, and the air smelled of it. The night sky was a spray of stars, made even brighter by the fact that this house sat in the middle of a field. The cars were all out by the road—they’d hiked their equipment out here, where it was pitch-dark but for the sliver of moon.

“Cheshire cat moon,” Bay murmured, tipping her head back to smile back at the silvery grin. She loved nights like this. Well, minus the BCPS cluster going on in the house. And the vampire lion skulking around somewhere nearby.

She pressed her lips together and started to make her way around the outside of the house, trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn’t easy. Her boots crackled through dead weeds, and she managed to trip a few times over rocks she couldn’t see. Bay peered around in the dark, hoping for one of two things: that she’d been wrong, or that whoever was out here playing would present himself quickly.

Neither happened.

Bay sighed irritably and stuffed her gloved hands further into the pockets of her ski jacket. At least she’d remembered to wear a hat this time. It was
cold
.

She worked her way around the perimeter of the house, the night so quiet and still she could hear the whispers
and giggles of the people inside very clearly. Nothing around her moved, but as she walked, she couldn’t shake the growing sensation that there were eyes on her. It started slowly, then intensified. Her breathing quickened, her heart rate picking up.

This is stupid
, she told herself. Anyone who would be out here wouldn’t be dangerous.

A twig snapped off to her left, and she jerked her head in the direction. That was when she caught it: the faint smell of sandalwood. Her eyes narrowed immediately. It was Tasmin. And if he thought that creeping her out was entertaining, he had another thing coming.

“Tasmin,” she hissed, “I know it’s you. Get out where I can see you; this isn’t funny!”

There was nothing but silence. Then, out of the pitch dark, a pair of bright golden eyes materialized, followed by the shape of an animal she’d only ever seen in pictures and film. Bay’s breath stilled in her chest as she watched him come, padding slowly through the dead tall grass and into the trampled-down circle that surrounded the house itself.

He was magnificent. It was the only word she could think of. No picture she’d ever seen could possibly do a beast like this justice. He was huge, heavy-boned, and muscular, but still possessed of the sleek grace that was the sole province of the big cats. A black mane surrounded a wide muzzle that looked as though it would feel like velvet, and his paws looked to be bigger than her hands. And those eyes, steady, unblinking, and glowing like hot gold never left her face.

She hadn’t realized until this moment exactly how much of the lion showed through in Tasmin’s human
form, but even now, she thought she would have known him anywhere.

Her anger at him evaporated for the time being. It was difficult to be angry with a creature that looked like it could eat you.

She finally managed to exhale, one long, shuddering breath.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, her voice only a whisper. One of his ears twitched, but Tasmin didn’t change form. Instead, he padded up to her. It was all Bay could do to stay in place and let him come. She was no chicken, but she couldn’t quite turn off the instinct to run away from a sharp-toothed creature that was bigger than she was.

The shift happened so quickly she only had a vague sense of it. The lion seemed to rise onto its hind legs, she blinked, and there was only Tasmin. She noted that he had acquired a heavier coat since the other night, and shoes. He looked slightly dazed, but other than that, normal. Or as normal as he got.

It only took her a few seconds of staring at him to get her wits back about her. She supposed that was an improvement. She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped up her chin. He wasn’t going to get the sweet treatment this time.

“What are
you
doing here?” he asked.

“I asked you first,” Bay said. “And if you were thinking about playing one of your funky mind games on me again, don’t. You made me really late to work yesterday, and my employees all thought an axe murderer got me.”

He looked puzzled for an instant. Then guilty. It was strangely satisfying.

“Oh,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? You could have just left, you know. I’m a pretty sound sleeper. You didn’t need to put the whammy on me.”

He blinked. “Whammy? I—oh, I see. I didn’t intend to… I mean, I wouldn’t have…” He trailed off, then heaved a sigh that was almost forlorn enough to make Bay feel sorry for him. Almost.

“You don’t understand anything,” he growled.

Bay felt her fingers curling into fists. The urge to smack him was almost overwhelming. “I would understand,” she said, “if you’d just be honest with me. Last time I checked, mortal didn’t equal brainless. And speaking of brains, did I mention it’s not okay to do things to mine? Because it isn’t.” She huffed out a breath. “I
hate
that vampires can just poke around inside people’s heads. You just take it one step further.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have let me in.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Bay said, eyes widening. “You show up in my yard shoeless, minus a jacket, and shivering in the snow, and I’m obviously going to let you in!”

“I have no intention of doing that again,” he replied stiffly.

“Well. Good,” Bay shot back. They stared at one another, the few feet between them feeling like miles. Tasmin was far more standoffish tonight than he had been—it rubbed her exactly the wrong way. She’d saved him from freezing, and in return he’d knocked her out! How was he the wounded party here?

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing out here,” Bay said when it appeared that Tasmin was content to just stand there glaring at her. She was already tired of the
argument. He wasn’t going to apologize for making her oversleep, and he wasn’t going to stop blaming her for being nice to him. If he didn’t seem to
need
someone to be nice to him so desperately, she probably would have just given up. She still ought to.

Too bad she’d been born with a stubborn streak a mile wide.

“I was wandering,” Tasmin said. But the words had a bite that made Bay think that wasn’t the truth. Not entirely anyway. Which was nothing new with him.

“You’re going to get shot at, wandering out here,” Bay said. “It’s hunting season.”

“Bullet holes heal as quickly as anything else,” he said with a shrug. He looked like he knew from experience. Bay almost asked, and then decided she didn’t want to know.

A burst of laughter from inside the house had them both turning their heads. When Bay looked at Tasmin again, he was frowning.

“What are you foolish people
doing
out here? A dark field is the last place you should be.”

“This from the expert on places not to be.”

The disgruntled expression on his face was amusing enough that Bay relented a little. “We’re ghost hunting.”

“Why would you want to hunt those?”

The incredulity in his voice put her back up, along with embarrassing her. She was used to people, vampires included, teasing her about her odd hobby. But hearing that kind of dismissal from Tasmin managed to hurt her feelings.

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know. It’s interesting, thinking that there are beings wandering around
that you can’t see. That can actually affect the environment if they try.”

His expression changed then, darkening, and he looked away.

“It’s better to stay away from such things, Bailey. Nothing good can come from them.”

Bay watched him, not understanding why hearing about ghost hunting would bother him so much.

“Even if there are things like that,” she said, “they can’t hurt us. They don’t have bodies or anything. It’s not the same as chasing around vampires and werewolves, Tasmin.”

“You should never assume such things,” Tasmin replied, and the heat in his voice surprised her. “Never.” He looked toward the house, and Bay didn’t like the way his eyes changed.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t,” she said.

But it was too late. His eyes slipped shut, and his skin took on a faint glow. Tendrils of what seemed to be pure golden energy separated from him and drifted toward the house, melting into the walls. When he opened his eyes again, he looked satisfied with himself… and not in a way that gave Bay a warm fuzzy feeling.