Things That Go Hump In The Night (42 page)

“Silver? Quite sure. The Council would hardly lower themselves to human defensive tactics.”

“Sorry I asked.”

A smile tugged at his mouth, and she swallowed, remembering that mouth on her throat, hot, hungry. His voice jerked her back to the present.

“I was wrong. This message is for you.”

“What?” She grabbed the parchment. “How did they know—oh.” All a vampire had to do was stand near the bedroom window last night. Sneaky bloodsuckers. She lowered her head, letting her hair fall forward, hoping to God it covered the blush heating her cheeks. She forgot everything when she read the five words neatly printed in the center.

Someone you love will pay.

“I don’t have—” She felt the color drain out of her face. “Ren—no—”

“I will take you.”

“Stay the hell out of this, Vlad. You’re the reason he might be in danger.”

“I am, which is why I will take you.” He opened the closet as he spoke, and tossed her a leather jacket. “I will be right back. Don’t you leave without me, Kat.”

She nodded, and stared after him, clutching the jacket and the parchment.
Not Ren—oh, God, please, not Ren.

He was her only family, the only person she gave a damn about—until Michael.

And Michael was the last person she wanted to give a damn about.

He reappeared, dressed in head to toe black leather and armed to the teeth. “Your knife belt is still in the car. I will have it ready for you. Here.” He handed her a pair of motorcycle boots as he walked past. They looked like they would fit.

“Where did these come from?”

The bastard flashed a smile at her over his shoulder. “My bedroom closet.”

No—not going there.

She walked outside, halting at the sight of him on a sleek black Harley, the setting sun flashing off all that chrome. Off him. It took considerable force to shove the thoughts of what they could do out of her mind. She slipped the jacket on—which fit like it was made for her, damn him—and stepped into the boots. Her silver studded belt was on the ground, between her and the Harley.

“Thanks.” She picked it up, and rolled it, stowing the sharp bundle in his saddlebag. Since she’d have to hang on to him, she didn’t want him keeling over from the proximity.

Michael handed her a helmet, and turned on the engine. It roared to life, sinking into the familiar, deep rumble.

“Hang on!’ He shouted over the engine. “I’ve had some special enhancements done to the engine.”

Kat had time to wrap her arms around his waist before he shot down the long driveway and turned on to the street without stopping.

Horns blared behind them. She focused on breathing, and keeping her grip on his waist as he maneuvered around cars like he was on an obstacle course. Once her breathing steadied, she leaned forward and shouted next to his helmet.

“Head for my—his office first.”

Michael nodded, and she assumed since he didn’t ask that he knew the way.

The fifteen minute trip took five. Kat hopped off the back almost before he stopped, yanking her helmet off as she bolted to the door.

“Ren!” The chill told her he wasn’t here. He kept the place like a sauna, so he could wear short sleeves year round. She tore through the office anyway, looking for a sign that he had been here. She found it, in the back conference room. Blood, overturned furniture, and the back door wide open. “No—”

Michael caught her arm as she lunged forward. He trapped her other arm when she turned on him, ready to fight. “Please, let me do this.”

With a sharp nod, she stepped back when he let her go, watched him crouch next to the blood. She was terrified that it was Ren’s, and more terrified that it wasn’t.

He stood, moving to her. And she knew. By the anguish in his eyes she knew.

“No,” she whispered. “No—”

“It is Ren’s blood, laid over with that of a vampire. I am so sorry, Kat.”

“We can find him—we can still—”

“It is too late.” He held her in place, tightening his grip on her arms when she fought him. “I know the smell of a turning. It happened here, and he either escaped, or his new master took him somewhere to recover. Kat.” He shook her, gently. “Where would Ren go, if he managed to free himself?”

“Home.” She stared up at him, his face blurring. Damn it, she would not break down. Not now. She took a shaky breath, blinked him clear. “He would go home.”

5

Rule Number Eight: You’re going to lose people. You have to learn to let them go – even if they’re not dead. ESPECIALLY if they’re not dead.

~ Kat Riley’s Rules For Hunting

Kat used the ride to Ren’s house to pull herself together. And brace herself for the worst case scenario.

After they pulled into the driveway, Michael turned around, his green eyes sober.

“I will go in first. No argument, Kat,” he said, when she opened her mouth to argue. “If Ren is in a particular stage of the change, your blood will send him into a frenzy.”

“Shit.” It was real. All of this was real. “Okay. But I’m going inside. I’ll stay by the front door, and I won’t move until you give me the all clear.”

“Fine.”

She did as promised, and paced in the small foyer—until a noise spun her around.

There it was again—a pained moan, coming from Ren’s office.

“God—” She inched forward, wanting to burst in, to make sure he was okay. The door was open, and she froze on the threshold. “Ren?”

The huddled figure turned, so fast she couldn’t track him.

“Get out, Kat. Please—” He doubled, clutching his stomach.

She ignored every warning screaming through her mind and darted forward, kneeling beside him.

“Tell me.”

He swallowed, his gaze on the floor. “They jumped me. I never even sensed them, Kat.” No, he wouldn’t have; that was her job. One she walked away from, leaving him vulnerable, because of her interference— “Stop it.” She jerked at the anger slapping her, and understood he was reading her thoughts. Like a vampire. “They did this because they could. Because I’m a—I was a hunter.”

“Ren.”

“Don’t touch me!” He scooted across the floor, trapping himself against the wall. Kat finally saw the blood staining his chin, the front of his white shirt. God—he fed. “Yes,” he whispered. “It was the first thing they did, after the bite from Hell. You have to go, Kat. I can smell your blood, and I am still—so hungry.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Between one breath and the next he had her pinned to the far wall, his breath cold on her throat. “You can’t save me. Now get out of here. I can only keep myself from feeding because I love you. Even that will fade.” He stepped back. “Get out.” When she didn’t move his voice drove into her mind.
Get out!

She slid along the wall, her heart breaking a little more with each step. Strong fingers closed over her arm, and before she could object Michael yanked her behind him.

“How bad is it?” His quiet voice laid over Ren’s harsh breaths.

“Every pore is screaming,” Ren whispered. “Please get her out of here. Her blood is driving me crazy. I can smell it, hear it, I want to taste it—”

Michael pressed her into the wall, his body a shield between her and Ren.

“You can control it, Ren. The power is yours. It is inside you now.”

“I can’t—” He spun away, the most anguished keening she’d ever heard spilling out of him. “I can’t exist like this. I won’t.”

“Ren.” Kat shoved down the panic threatening to choke her. She pushed at Michael’s shoulder, sliding over enough to see her friend, silhouetted in the moonlight. “You know I’ll do whatever you need. We can get through this—”

“No.”
The power in his voice spiked her mind. She clutched her head, blinded by the pain. “You will forget me, Kat. Forget who I was, what I became. For you, I no longer exist.” The persuasion wrapped around her, and she found herself nodding. With a strangled cry, she broke free of his influence. Ren flinched, pushing at her again, rage behind his words. “Leave me alone, Kat.”

Before she could free herself to stop him, Ren tore the back door off its hinges and disappeared into the darkness.

“No!”

“Kat.” Michael trapped her against his chest. “You can’t help him. Not yet.”

“What do you mean, not yet? He’s a damn vampire! I can’t help him ever.” She struggled, knowing it would be pointless. “Let me go.”

Michael freed her, but stayed in grabbing range—probably in case she did something stupid, like try to go after Ren.

“I can help him,” Michael said, that deep voice soothing her. God, she needed to believe him.

“How? He’s already fed. There’s nothing you can do.”

“To make him human? No. To teach him to control what he is now? I can, and I will, if he lets me in.”

“In—like in his mind.”

Michael crossed his arms. “You’re asking questions you already know the answers to, Kat.”

“Excuse me for being a little freaked out. My best friend is a vampire—” She covered her mouth and spun away, the tears she refused to shed in front of him clawing their way up her throat.

Strong arms slipped around her waist, and Michael pulled her in. She didn’t have the will to fight him.

“Acceptance is a big step,” he said. His breath was warm on her throat, his muscular body even warmer as he wrapped himself around her. “But you need to give yourself the chance to grieve, Kat.”

Before she could ask, he let her go long enough to pick her up, and carried her to the sofa, cradling her in his lap. The gentleness of his touch, his care, broke the already shaky control, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

His hand rubbed her back as she cried, warm, comforting, so unlike any man she’d ever known. The gut wrenching sobs gave way to tears, then to embarrassment. When she started to pull away, he tightened his grip, and whispered one word against her hair.

“Stay.”

That word devastated what was left of the wall she tried to build between them, to protect herself from the heartache she could see coming a mile away.

She groped for a way to give herself some distance, and asked the question that had been nagging her since they first met.

“Why is the Council after you?”

He sighed, staring at the far wall. “Because they know I exist. And that is not acceptable.”

“Wait.” She slid off his lap and cupped his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. “They must have known about you—one of them made you.”

“You did not recognize the vampires who came after me, did you?”

She shook her head. “Is this the home team?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. Damn, she wanted to kiss him. “You have a quick mind, Kat Riley. Yes, they are from England. I may not have been there for decades, but even with an ocean between us, the newest head of that branch of the Council is highly offended by my existence.”

“So they what—plan to kill you?”

Any amusement died. “They are here to turn me.”

Kat wanted to back away, to leave him to his fate and run. Her heart had other ideas.

It took over, and both hands framed his face. “What do you want?”

Surprise flared in the clear green eyes. “I want to be free to make the choice. If they had asked, instead of hunting me like a rabid animal—”

“We wouldn’t have had our meet cute, Vlad.”

Laughter burst out of him. “You do have a way with words.”

“If you had to make a choice, what would the options be?” Why was she poking at him?

Because you have to know, before he captures your heart completely.

He kept his gaze on her as he said the words. “Turn me, or kill me.”

“Oh.”

“Is that it, Kat Riley, slayer of monsters?”

That got her temper up. She dropped her hands so she didn’t punch him. “I am not—”

“What would you have done to me, if I were a vampire, instead of merely a half-blood?”

I wouldn’t be falling in love with you.

It was part mind blurt, part test. But he passed, studying her so intently she knew he heard her. She swallowed, wanting to run away so she didn’t have to listen to his next words.

“It seems, then, that we are in the same sticky mess.”

Her heart pounded so hard she knew he could hear it. “I don’t want to be.”

“Oh, Kat.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulled her forward until she sat on his thigh. “Meeting you has been the highlight in a long, desperately empty existence.”

“How long, Michael?”

He leaned his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. “I was attacked on February 14, 1789.”

“Valentine’s Day? What a horrible way to say be my valentine.” His chuckle eased some of the pain on his face. “Was it a woman?”

“One I had known for quite some time.”

“And you never noticed her odd habit of never going out during the day?”

He lifted his head, a wry smile twisting at her heart. “When one has more money than God, one can be eccentric. She always insisted on socializing at her home. No one questioned it, not when she was a generous and imaginative hostess.”

Kat had no reason to be jealous. The bitch was a vampire, for God’s sake. But the fact that she captivated Michael—so much that he still thought of her kindly after destroying his life—left Kat feeling like she didn’t measure up.

Michael’s voice jerked her out of her thought. “She held a lavish party that night, and I stayed, after the last guest finally stumbled out. I was infatuated, and she knew it, took advantage of it, and my inebriated state. Before I understood what was happening, she had me trapped against the wall, and showed me her fangs. That sobered me, quickly.” The pain in his eyes twisted through her heart. She cradled his cheek, and he swallowed. “I fought her, Kat. I think it surprised her, because before she was able to have me feed, I escaped.”

“How did you find out what you were?”

“A childhood friend. He was mad for the occult, and after I convinced him I was not insane, he helped me research just what had happened to me. Once I understood that my kind was not tolerated, I left England, my family, and all that I was. I started a new life here, moving west as civilization expanded across the continent. I never stayed in one place for long, terrified that they would find me. After the first few years, with no retaliation, it dawned on me that they did not know about me.”

“You would be a spectacular fail for her. Vampires do have a reputation for their gigantic egos.”

He smiled—a real smile this time. “I came to the same conclusion. And I managed to stay under their radar, until the Council became a global entity. Then my existence was discovered.”

“How long ago?”

“It’s been close to fifty years. They left me alone, since I did nothing to draw attention to myself, or them. But the current British Council has reverted to old laws, and one of them is that no half-blood shall live.”

Kat slid her hand into his thick, black hair, and asked the question she knew neither one of them wanted to face. “What are you going to do?”

“Before we met, I was going to give myself up to them.”

“And now?”

He spread his hand over her heart. “Now I have a reason to fight.”

“Michael.” Tears lodged in her throat. She forced her voice through them. “I’ll be your weakness. Their way to get to you.”

“You, a weakness? I consider you my secret weapon, Kat.” She blinked at him. “The vampires chasing me have no idea of your reputation, and they would not lower themselves to question the local hoi polloi. Most of them are aristocracy, and you are—”

“I get it. And thank you,” she said, her voice low, husky. “After what happened to Ren, I don’t feel like anyone’s secret weapon.”

“Your vampires are simpler, Kat. They go after whoever angered them. The vampires hunting me are a different breed. They were raised on intrigue, and are used to manipulating situations to their advantage.”

“Is that why didn’t they go after me?” she whispered.

“They struck at the one part of your life that would hurt you the most. They may not be human anymore, but they do still understand the human heart.”

He brushed his lips over her cheek, and she shivered. How could he sneak in past her defenses like that? She hurt like crazy for Ren, but she wanted Michael to love her, here, now. Help her forget some of the pain. That need only made her feel guilty.

“What about you? Are you still human enough, Michael?” She used hateful words to try and put some distance between them.

It backfired.

He let her go—and had her against the nearest wall between one breath and the next. His erection pressed into her, hard and throbbing even through his jeans, and she fought the need to rip open her zipper and take him inside her.

“Does that answer you, Kat?” His low growl was as ragged as her breathing. “You have been in my head, every bloody damn moment since we met. I want you more with every breath I take, even knowing what you are. Tell me to piss off, before we both lose ourselves.”

“You already know it’s too late,” she whispered.

He stared at her for an endless minute, his green eyes dark. Then he pulled her off the wall and dragged her to the front door. “Not here. Not in your friend’s house.”

“I live down the street.”

“Thank Jesu for small favors.” He halted on the driveway, and in a gesture that had tears stinging her eyes, he cradled her face in those big, warm hands. “Final chance to rid yourself of me, love. There will be no leaving if I touch you again.”