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Authors: Brooklyn Ann

Tags: #Contemporary, #Contemporary Romance, #Romance, #romance adult, #Paranormal & Urban, #Paranormal, #Romantic Suspense, #romance series

Ironic Sacrifice (15 page)

BOOK: Ironic Sacrifice
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Chapter Nineteen

Razvan’s fingers dug into his palms deep enough to draw blood. He had found the spy. A mirthless laugh escaped his lips as he flew over his city, towards his prey. He was a fool. Doubly so, since not only had he not considered that particular vampire, but also because it had taken him so long to figure it out. Snowflakes blew into his eyes, but they didn’t burn half as much as his rage to think of the danger Jayden had been in.

He drifted closer to his quarry, fangs bared in predatory anticipation. Flesh would tear and blood would flow. The traitor would be nothing more than a butcher’s leavings before he would be satisfied…if ever.

Razvan reared up, ready to dive upon his victim when his heart suddenly seized up in his chest and searing pain exploded behind his eyes. The Mark between him and Jayden flared up, shrieking in urgency. Something was happening to Jayden.

He swerved east so abruptly that a gust of wind sent him twisting through the air in a sickly spiral. For a moment Razvan didn’t know what was up or down. Clawing madly at the wind, he regained equilibrium. With a deep breath, he concentrated on the Mark. Nothing indicated that Jayden was hurt or in danger, but the sense of urgency hammered at his psyche with an ever increasing tempo.

Casting a regretful look over his shoulder at the spy, Razvan resumed his flight back to Coeur d’Alene. The matter would have to be dealt with later. For now, Jayden needed him. Unfortunately, the December wind was against him and he had to fight for every inch of distance. Teeth gritted against the biting cold, Razvan only hoped he could get to her on time.

***

Monday evening, Jayden was surprised to see Akasha wander past the dining room and into the kitchen to grab a beer. Silas was hunting and Razvan was gone —again. She thought she’d been alone.

“What are you doing home?” Jayden asked, putting down a book on Romanian history. “I thought you had to work.”

Akasha opened her beer and slumped into the chair across from her. “I had a splitting headache earlier, so Max is covering for me. The winterization rush is almost over so we’ve been pretty dead,” she added defensively. “Is Razvan in Spokane again?”

Jayden couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Yeah.”

Akasha gave her a sympathetic look that nearly brought a lump to her throat. “Well, he is the Lord of Spokane and that’s a way bigger city than Coeur d’Alene, so I imagine he’s twice as busy as Silas.”

“Yeah, but why doesn’t he take me with him?” Jayden hated the frustration in her voice. “I mean, I’ve never even seen his home. What if he’s got someone else there?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Akasha said quickly. “Actually, I’m starting to wonder if there isn’t something else going on. Razvan’s always been an evasive bastard, but lately Silas seems to be taking a page from his book….”

Jayden didn’t hear the rest of it. Images were superimposed upon her sight, and she closed her eyes and was sucked into a vision.

She saw inside the shop area of Resurrection Wrenches. Max’s back was turned to her. He was bent over the engine compartment of a little Honda, grunting and cursing as he worked. Something crept up behind him. He turned and dropped his wrench. His scream echoed against the cinderblock walls.

The vision faded and she opened her eyes to see her friend staring at her with a small perplexed frown.

“Akasha!” Jayden cried. “We have to get to your shop now!” She bolted up out of her chair so fast that it crashed to the floor.

“What?” Akasha asked looking at Jayden like she lost her mind.

“Something’s happening! I heard Max screaming. We have to go
now
!” she ran out of the dining room without looking back.

Akasha needed no further urging and beat Jayden to the garage door. She grabbed her keys as Jayden got in the passenger side of the Roadrunner and pushed the garage door opener. Akasha got in and the engine roared to life. She barely closed the door before she gunned it into reverse. Metal squealed as the Roadrunner shot out of the garage, scraping its roof on the slowly opening door.

As the car catapulted down Cherry Hill, Jayden wondered fleetingly if Akasha would kill them both before they made it to Resurrection Wrenches. When they reached 15
th
Street and the speedometer climbed to sixty in the 25 mph residential zone, cops were added to her worries. By the time they reached Sherman Avenue and Akasha ran the red light as she turned right and swerved, narrowly missing a Dodge Ram, Jayden hardly noticed. She was overcome with a sinking dread that they were too late.

The shop was quiet when the Roadrunner screeched to a stop in the parking lot.

Too quiet.

Akasha flew out of the car, leaving the door hanging open. Jayden followed, but closed her door. Her new friend could be touchy about her cars. The women ran to the shop. Akasha threw the door open and bolted through the small customer area into the service bays.

Akasha’s bloodcurdling scream signaled the worst and stopped Jayden’s heart. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what happened, but traitorously, they opened.

“Max!” Akasha shrieked and ran to her mentor.

Max lay slumped against his tool box. His skin was a chalky gray.

Akasha seized him by the shoulders and shook him. “Max, wake up! Please wake up!” The desperation in her voice was gut-wrenching.

“Akasha!” Jayden cried. “Check his pulse!”

Akasha didn’t listen and continued to shake him as his head rolled around his shoulders as if his neck were broken.

“Stop! You might hurt him.” That got through to her and she stopped, though Jayden was quickly suspecting the man was beyond hurting.

Slowly she walked to Max’s unconscious form and placed trembling fingers against his neck to feel for a pulse. His flesh was cool and rubbery-feeling. There was no indication of a heartbeat underneath her touch. She noticed a faint mark on his ashen neck that was quickly fading. As her fingers grazed it, a vision assailed her, and this time she didn’t fight it.

A tall, emaciated vampire approached Max. A fanatical fire roared from his dead grey eyes.

“I have a message for your master,” he said.

Before Max could reply, the vampire was upon him in an inhuman burst of speed. His fangs buried deep in the mechanic’s throat.

Before the vision faded, Jayden caught his name. “His name is Lionel,” she muttered.

“What?”

Jayden didn’t answer. There was a piece of paper in Max’s right hand. She pulled it from his stiff fingers. It was a note.


We warned you,
” it said simply.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her throat almost too tight to speak. “I think he’s dead. I think they killed him.”

“Noooooooo!” Akasha screamed, nearly drowning out the sound of another car pulling into the parking lot.

Jayden pulled her phone from her coat and dialed 9-11. Akasha grabbed a pry-bar and turned to face the door, crouched into a feral fighting stance. If the person coming wasn’t a friend, they were in for a world of hurt.

Silas’s welcome form filled the doorway just as the 9-11 operator answered. Jayden wasted no time explaining the situation, despite the unfriendly look Akasha threw her before rushing into her husband’s arms.

“I’m at Resurrection Wrenches on the corner of 15
th
and Sherman. There’s a man unconscious, probably dead. Please, hurry!” She hung up before the operator could ask her name.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Akasha demanded.

“We can’t just deal with a dead body ourselves,” Jayden said. “Besides, maybe he’s not dead, maybe they can help.”

“She’s right, my love,” Silas said. “Also, we need to come up with an explanation as to why we are here. I highly doubt that you ladies decided to randomly drop by.” He looked at Jayden. “I presume you had a vision as well?”

She nodded. “Yes, it must have come from our practice sessions. This was in his hand.” Jayden handed him the note.

Silas scanned the message and then his eyes fluttered closed. Jayden had no doubt that he was seeing the same scene that she had when she'd touched Max's body. When his eyes opened again, he looked at her, silently pleading for cooperation.

“Call my phone, Jayden,” the vampire commanded. “That way it’s on record that you called me afterwards.”

Quickly, she obeyed, grateful for his stabilizing calm and logic. His ringtone was “Dead Man’s Party” by
Oingo Boingo
. Both she and Silas flinched at the morbid incongruity of the tune. He shut off the call in mid-ring and turned to Akasha. She’d gone frightfully pale and was muttering under her breath.

“But he didn’t get his tattoo finished,” she said. “It was a bitchin’ nautical star and the color stills needs filled in. And we need him on our team for the dart league this spring. And we were supposed to—” her words cut off and she dropped the pry-bar and ran to Max. She threw her arms around the body and cried in thick, hitching sobs.

The metallic clang of the dropped tool faded and gave way to the sound of approaching sirens.

Why did they do this?
Jayden sent the thought to Silas.

Later,
was his curt answer.

The firemen arrived first with the police at their heels. At first Jayden didn’t know the purpose of the firemen until she realized that they were trained paramedics. They were the ones to declare Max dead. The police questioned the three of them. While Akasha stood there in a grieved stupor, Jayden explained that she and Akasha came to the shop to bring a tool he needed and she called Silas when they found the body.

“And what tool did you bring him?” one of the officers asked, voice laden with suspicion.

Jayden’s fist clenched and she had to bite her tongue to keep from voicing an outraged retort.

To her surprise Akasha spoke up. “He needed this pry bar.” She picked the tool up from the floor. “I had it at home when I was changing the C.V. axles on Jayden’s Camry.” Her voice was monotone and rusty as if she hadn’t spoken in ages.

The discovery of a dead body was not like on T.V. and movies. There was no media circus and since the officials seemed to believe that Max had died of natural causes, nobody put up any police tape. They were, however, made to stand outside in the cold for over an hour before a plainclothes detective arrived to do a cursory examination. Then they were questioned for another hour before the coroner finally showed up with his bland white van and gurney.

Jayden was worried about Akasha. The woman was visibly alternating between cold shock and white-hot anger. Her tenuous hold on her rage became apparent when the cops asked her for the second time with patronizing disbelief to verify that she was the owner of the shop.

“What, you don’t think a woman can turn a wrench, much less run a business?” Her eyes seemed to shoot amethyst sparks. “My best friend, my business partner, practically my surrogate father is dead, and you’re being all petty and sexist? Who the fuck do you think—”

Silas put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. To the detectives, he calmly asked, “Will there be an autopsy?”

The detective glanced at Akasha and coughed in embarrassment. “Yes, as this was an unattended death, that’s standard policy. Do you have any reason to believe that Mr. Gunderson didn’t die of natural causes?”

Before Akasha could speak, Silas squeezed her shoulder and replied, “We just want to be sure that nothing…out of the ordinary happened.”

The coroner and the paramedics came out then, wheeling the sheet-covered gurney. Jayden cursed them for their lack of tact in neglecting to give a warning. The sight of Max’s still shape underneath the white cloth was guaranteed to bring nightmares for many days to come. It had to be much worse for Silas and Akasha, who had known him for so much longer.

The stress eventually became too much for Jayden. Her shields dissolved with a tangible tremor and slowly, but with increasing intensity, visions began to encroach upon her consciousness. From the EMT’s secret porn addiction to the coroner’s Vietnam flashbacks, she was assaulted with psychic vibes. She nearly wept with gratitude when Silas took her elbow and led her away.

Chapter Twenty

Jayden and Akasha climbed into Silas’s Barracuda and left the Roadrunner at the shop after locking up. Akasha was in no shape to drive. She seemed almost catatonic with shock and grief. It killed Jayden to see the contrast from the tough, no-nonsense woman whom she’d grown to admire.

Razvan was waiting for them on the front porch when they arrived home. Jayden’s heart leapt at the sight of his beloved form, illuminated in the darkness by the embers of his pipe.

She got out of the car and nearly stumbled in the driveway. Her legs turned weak and rubbery and she braced herself with a hand on the car’s roof before he arrived to steady her with a firm grip on her hips. She felt like a shell-shocked victim of a nuclear war.

A wordless cry escaped her lips as she flung herself into his arms. The support of his warm hard body and the strength of his arms around her felt like a healing elixir. He could ignore her all he wanted later, if only he would continue to hold her now.

“What has happened?” he asked, his eyes taking in their grave expressions.

“Max is dead,” Silas said. “One of Selena’s servants killed him. The bastard was smooth enough to make it look like a heart attack, so I am uncertain if there is an opportunity for possible redress with the Elders.” He went over to the passenger side of the car, opened the door, and lifted Akasha out of her seat.

She whimpered and struggled for a moment before relaxing in her husband’s arms. Jayden and Razvan followed them into the house. Once they were settled in their usual seats around the dining room table, Silas filled Razvan in on the details while continuously darting worried glances at his wife.

Akasha slumped in her seat. Her face was a chalky white and her eyes looked glazed and feverish. Jayden had just turned to tell Silas that perhaps his wife should go to the hospital when a piercing scream rent the air, followed by a crash.

“We have to go after her. Selena must die. I’ll kill the bitch myself!” Akasha had leapt out of her seat and tossed her chair aside. She spoke with rapid-fire demands. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

“I’m sorry, lass,” Silas said softly. “But we can’t do things that way. It’s exactly what she expects and no doubt she has a trap waiting for us. I will contact the Elders and inform them what she has done. We will do things by the book for now, and if that fails, we will come up with a plan.” His eyes held hers, despite her fury. “I swear to you, my love, Selena will answer for this tragedy, just not right now.”

Akasha’s shoulders rose and fell with her rapid breaths. She closed her eyes and threw back her head. An agonized, animalistic howl escaped her lips.

Then chaos struck.

With a roar of rage, Akasha’s fist struck the mahogany table. It cracked with a nightmarish sound that promised to reverberate in one’s skull for a near eternity.

Jayden and Razvan had a second to get up and move out of the way before she flipped it over like a piece of cardboard. Then she grabbed a chair and slammed it against the wall, heedless of the flying splinters. One cut a gash into her forehead but Akasha didn’t seem to notice.

She screamed, and before the agonized sound faded she took a hitching breath and screamed again until it was one endless, blood chilling siren.

Razvan pulled Jayden further away, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Akasha grabbed one chair after another, throwing them, smashing them into the wall, into the floor.

Silas called her name, but she didn’t hear him. Silas’s wife was gone and in her place was a juggernaut of demonic destruction.

Her husband had to dart out of the way when the chandelier came crashing down, narrowly missing his head.

When all the chairs were decimated, Akasha began to punch the wall. She pounded hole after hole into the sheetrock. Blood ran down in her eyes and coated her hands. Drywall dust caked her face until she was an unrecognizable monster. Still she screamed, the audible razors of rage and pain piercing the psyches of her helpless spectators.

Jayden could only stand there slack-jawed at the insanity and destruction before her. Her heart went out to Silas who stood impotent before his wife’s grief and rage.

After what felt like hours, Akasha’s screams died down and she collapsed. Silas sighed in pained relief and carried her to the couch before he called the doctor.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jayden asked worriedly as she looked at Akasha’s mangled hands. They were a swollen bloody mess, resembling something to be thrown away at a butcher shop.

Silas looked up at her as he bathed his wife’s face with a damp washcloth. “Her body will heal fast, but her mind...it will take time. She is strong, but she’s suffered a terrible blow. Max was like a father to her.”

Jayden frowned. “But her hands! It looks like she’ll never be able to hold a wrench again.”

Razvan touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Her hands will be fine. You’ll see when the doctor gets here.”

Dr. Greenbriar arrived soon afterward. His brows rose for a split second at the sight of the decimated dining room and Akasha’s ravaged hands before composing his features into bland professionalism. He opened his classic black medical bag and laid out three syringes on the coffee table. Jayden looked away when he administered the first shot.

Akasha jerked up with a cry of pain then lapsed back into unconsciousness. She barely stirred when the doctor administered the other shots, one in each hand, presumably to numb them. Silas offered Greenbriar a vague explanation of what happened as Akasha’s hands were cleaned with brisk efficiency. The tale was hardly necessary since the wreckage of the dining room loomed in plain sight.

Jayden wondered how the doctor would be able to tell where the bones were broken without an X-ray, but it seemed that Jonathon Greenbriar had powers of his own.

He grasped one hand at a time and closed his eyes. His pupils darted under the lids as if he was in REM sleep, but Jayden knew what he was doing. She could almost feel it. Jonathon was
seeing
the breaks. Just as she’d seen that girl’s tubal pregnancy at the Rage of Angel’s concert. Silas met her eyes with a silent question and she nodded.

We will have to discuss this with Jonathon at a later time,
his mind whispered to hers.
I didn’t forget.

After Dr. Greenbriar completed his examination, he went about bandaging the minor cuts and stitching the worst ones. Carefully, he wrapped Akasha’s hands in a complex network of splints and bindings.

Jayden thought he was finished, but then the doctor pulled out two more syringes and asked Silas to roll up his sleeve. She watched with astonishment as he drew the vampire’s blood into the syringe and then injected it into each of Akasha’s hands.

“Our blood has incredible healing powers,” Razvan whispered in her ear.

Despite the terrible events of the evening, her traitorous body stirred at his voice. She averted her heated face from his gaze and focused on Silas who was writing a check for Jonathon.

“She should be healed in about three days. I'll give you some syringes so you can give her an injection every evening after you feed.” Yet again the doctor reached into his black bag of prescription tricks. “Here are some pain killers with a sedative effect. With her metabolism I’d say she could have one every four hours.”

Jayden’s brows rose in curiosity as to what he'd prescribed, but Silas pocketed the pills before she could glimpse the label. The doctor turned to her and before she could say a word he had his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff out.

“Now let’s see how the other mortal is faring.”

Jonathon examined her for what felt like forever. The way one of his fangs peeked out from under his upper lip as he inspected her pupils was unnerving. She couldn’t stop shaking.

Finally he was finished. “She’s in shock, but it’s a fairly mild case. I recommend a hot bath, fluids and at least twelve hours of rest.” The black bag opened once more, and again he handed Silas a bottle of pills. “Give her one of these. She may have another if symptoms persist. And
don’t
, for God’s sake, mix these up with the ones I’ve prescribed Akasha.” he admonished. “I have a stomach pump at my clinic, but I would rather not use it.”

Silas smiled. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.” He tossed the pills to Razvan. “She’s his charge, after all.”

Jonathon looked immediately flustered at that remark. “I knew that, my lord, I sensed his Mark on her. It’s just that—”

“Don’t worry, Jonathon, you followed the correct protocol.” Silas gave him a reassuring grin.

Protocol?
Jayden wondered.

Razvan sensed her confusion. “Since Silas is the Lord of this City and we are in his home, he is, in an official sense, in charge of us. If we were in my home, the good doctor would have spoken to me regarding Akasha’s and your treatment.”

“What’s your home like?” she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

He smiled grimly and replied, “Empty.” The vampire fell silent and did not indulge her further.

The doctor bowed to all three of them and said his goodnights. Immediately Razvan brought her a glass of water and a very familiar blue pill.

“Valium? Seriously?” Her voice was a squeak of outrage. “He thinks I need Valium?”

“Doctor’s orders, Jayden,” Razvan said with a forceful edge in his tone.

“Please, lass,” Silas added. “I’ve been blocking your mind from outside influence for over an hour. It has taken some effort. The pill will help.”

Jayden immediately felt like an ass. She hadn’t noticed how exhausted Silas looked. It had to have taken a ton of work to block her mind from Akasha’s rage. “I’m sorry.” She took the pill with no further argument and guzzled down the water, realizing that she was incredibly thirsty. There was an acrid, coppery taste in her mouth and it was a relief to wash it away.

When she set the glass down, Razvan scooped her up in his arms. Her heart fluttered at his gesture and she hoped in vain that she wasn’t blushing. From Silas’s slight, amused smile, it appeared that hoping was no good.

The vampire carried her down the stairs in a smooth gentle gait and once again she marveled at his incredible strength. But Akasha was strong too. Jayden had no idea how strong her friend truly was, until tonight. She shivered at the memory.

“We’ll get you warmed up soon.” Razvan’s voice rumbled against her ear and she was too tired to protest.

He had her stripped down and lowered into a steaming bubble bath in record time. Her teeth chattered as the warm water closed over her. She was cold, after all. The pill began to kick in and she closed her eyes and gave herself up to Razvan’s ministrations, reveling at the feel of his touch. It was too bad it was because of the night’s terrible events.

Too soon her bath was over. He dried her off briskly and threw a billowy nightgown over her head.

“Now it’s time for bed. And do not forget, you are to rest all day tomorrow.” Razvan regarded her with a forbidding frown as he turned down the bed. “If I catch you doing anything strenuous when I awaken…”

“What’ll you do? Spank me?” she asked in a heavy drugged voice.

A ghost of his old rakish smile crossed his lips, but it was tinged with something else. “Now that is an idea.”

Once she was in the bed, Razvan climbed in and pulled the covers over them both. There could be nothing more comfortable than the feel of his arms around her. Still, the circumstances were nearly unbearable.

“I can’t believe they killed Max,” she said. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned as the reality crashed upon her. The gruff, kind man that she had met was no longer here. He had never done anything to harm anyone and yet he was dead because Razvan and Silas pissed some vampires off. He’d been like a father to Akasha. How would she make it without him?

“Poor Akasha,” she murmured, head swimming with grief and the valium’s stupor.

“No more talking,” the vampire commanded.

She opened her mouth to protest his bossy tone, but fell asleep instead.

BOOK: Ironic Sacrifice
12.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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