Blood Kissed

  “I don’t think the term methodic could be applied to his attack on Ms. Grace last night.”

  “And yet, for all his fury, he had backup in the form of a hired gun, and also had an escape route planned out.”

  Hart grunted and glanced around again. “Well, this appears to be nothing more than a big, fat waste of time. Shall we head back?”

  “I can’t see that we have any other—” Aiden stopped, expression intent.

  The fear that had been easing since we’d stepped into the cabin ratcheted up again. “What?”

  The question came out slightly strangled, thanks to the fact my heart seemed to be pounding in the vicinity my throat.

  “Movement, coming up the ridge,” he said. “They’re good, too. I can barely hear them.”

  “How close?” Hart asked softly. “And how many?”

  “Two. Headed this way, but not taking our path.” He paused, head slightly cocked to one side. “They’ve just split and are now approaching the clearing from the left and the right.”

  “What’s the betting they’re our vampire’s hired guns?” Hart pulled his gun from its holster. “Shall we go greet them?”

  Aiden nodded and glanced at me. “Wait here.”

  “Please, both of you—be careful. This could be the trap I was sensing.”

  Neither man answered. They simply slipped out the door and disappeared into the scrub to the right and left of the cabin. I closed the door and then slid the bolt across. It probably wouldn’t hold up if any great force was applied to it, but it nevertheless made me feel a little safer.

  I stepped to one side and leaned back against the cool stone, my eyes closed but every other sense I had open. It didn’t tell me what was happening. Aside from the gnawing certainty that the shit was about to hit the fan, my “other” senses were giving me little in the way of information.

  I crossed my arms and clenched my fists against the need to unbolt the door and race out after the two men. At best, I’d only get in their way. And worst, I could end up a hostage and turn a dangerous situation into a deadly one.

  But the silence ran on, eating at my nerves.

  I pushed away from the wall and began to pace. It didn’t help.

  Then a sound not unlike the backfire of a car shattered the silence. I froze, my pulse racing and fear heavy in my heart.

  That sound could only have been a gunshot.

  I had no idea who had fired, but I desperately wanted to believe it had been either Aiden or Hart. Desperately wanted to believe that they were safe and unhurt—that the death and darkness I’d feared hadn’t just landed.

  I bit my lip against the instinctive need to call out, and resumed pacing.

  Two minutes later, another shot echoed.

  But again, it was followed by silence. Far too many minutes of silence.

  Then footsteps approached—two sets, one quieter than the other. Tears of relief stung my eyes and I all but ran to the door. But just as I was about to throw back the bolt, caution stirred.

  If it was Aiden and Hart approaching, why hadn’t either of them called out?

  I rose on my tiptoes and peered through one of the many cracks in the door.

  It wasn’t Aiden or Hart. It was two complete strangers.

  And they both had their weapons aimed at the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  I threw myself sideways and covered my head with my hands, even as the door exploded under a fierce storm of gunfire. Splinters, dust, and even stone chips flew everywhere, small but dangerous missiles that bit into my skin as easily as the air.

  I swore and scrambled away on hands and knees, heading for the corner near the fireplace, as far away from the door as was practical in this tiny, one-room cottage.

  Belle? I screamed. I need you to contact the rangers and Blume, and get them up here ASAP. Tell them to bring medics.

  Fuck, Lizzie, what’s going on?

  Gunfire. Lots of gunfire. I have no idea where Aiden and Hart are. No idea if they’re injured or dead.

  On it, Belle said. Keep your head down.

  That’s one thing you can be sure of.

  As the buzz of her thoughts left mine, I raised a hand and began weaving a spell into the shadows, using them create a shield thick enough to disappear behind, but not heavy enough to draw attention.

  The gunfire ceased and silence fell. The door was decimated, but the bolt and hinges had somehow survived the onslaught, and kept the remnants upright. Dust danced in the sunlight now flooding the middle portion of the cabin, but thankfully, shadows still claimed the corners.

  Stones crunched, an indication that at least one of the men approached. My breath caught in my throat and I watched the door with a sense of dread, not daring to move lest the sound carry and tell them I was there.

  Several beams of sunlight cut out—someone was now standing in front of the door. Listening, I suspected. Another step, then the black plastic of the nearest window rattled. Sweat trickled down my back, and it took every ounce of control I had to remain still and quiet.

  The door crashed back on its hinges and two men flowed into the room. Wood dust spun through the air, causing a cloud thick enough to catch in my throat. I bit down hard on my lip, drawing blood as I fought the need to cough.

  The taller of the two spun around, his dark gaze sweeping across the fireplace before coming to a rest on the shadows that concealed me. Just for an instant, I feared he’d either smelled the sweaty scent of fear or had sensed the presence of magic. He took a step forward, his gun still raised and eyes narrowed. My heart was now pounding so fast I was beginning to feel dizzy. There were no spells that could protect against bullets—if he decided to fire just to be sure the shadows were as empty as they seemed, I was dead.

  “Nothing,” his partner said, frustration evident in his tone. “She must have slipped out when we were taking care of the ranger and the other bloke.”

  His words had my heart stuttering to an uneven halt. No, I thought. Not possible. Aiden was a wolf, for fuck’s sake. History had showed time and again that they weren’t so easy to dispose of. “Taking care of” could have meant a thousand things. It didn’t mean they were dead. It couldn’t.

  And yet the bit of me that had foreseen death whispered otherwise, and I bit down harder against the scream of denial.

  God help me, I barely even knew the man, let alone had any confirmation of his death, and yet some part of me was already grieving the loss of possibilities.

  The taller man grunted and put his gun away. It didn’t ease the tension pounding through me. These two were pros—they could no doubt draw and fire quicker than I could ever cast a spell.

  “We can’t take long. All that gunfire is going to attract attention.” He spun on one heel and strode out the door. “We should have fucking used silencers, even if it was against the freak’s orders.”

  I frowned. Why would Waverley have ordered the two men not to use silencers? That made absolutely no sense—unless, of course, his wanted to not only attract attention, but to draw Aiden’s forces away from the Redferns.

  Thwarting his actions might have put me on his hit list, but Morris Redfern had been there since the death of the child Waverley obviously viewed as a daughter.

  “You were more than welcome to.” The smaller man cast a final look around the cabin, his gaze skimming across my corner with no sign of suspicion. “Me, I like my life too much.”

  Their footsteps faded, but I remained exactly where I was. I didn’t even dare unravel the shadows. For all I knew, their retreat might be nothing more than a means of drawing me out of hiding.

  The dust settled and time once again stretched on. I shifted slightly and glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes had passed—it seemed an eternity longer.

  Then a feminine and all-too-familiar voice said, “Aiden? You there?”

  Tala, Aiden’s second. I let Belle know I’d been found and was now safe, then cast aside the shadows and scrambled upright. “No,” I
said. “He’s not. Nor is Hart. I’m coming out.”

  I raised a hand to shield my eyes against the fading rays of sunlight. The clearing was empty and there was no immediate sign of Tala. Then the gorse at the left edge of the clearing moved and she stepped out, gun only partially lowered.

  “Where’s Aiden?”

  “I don’t know.” I waved a hand toward the scrub and wished with all my being it were otherwise. Wished that for once in my goddamn life my psychic soul would give me a definitive answer rather than mere possibilities. “Someone tried sneaking up on us, and he and Hart left to investigate. There were two shots, and then the cabin was attacked.”

  Tala’s gaze went past me. “How many men?”

  “Two that I know of. There could have been more.”

  Bushes rustled to my left. Though I knew given Tala’s lack of reaction it had to be someone she knew, fear still had my pulse rate climbing again. But as I glanced around, Blume and another man in a ranger’s uniform stepped into the clearing. Neither looked happy. In fact, Blume’s body was practically humming with tension and anger.

  “We found Hart,” he said, voice curt. “He’s dead. Shot in the head.”

  Tala asked the question I couldn’t. “And Aiden?”

  “No sign of him,” the ranger said. “But we found his scent and Mac’s tracing it right now. He’ll update us if he finds anything.”

  Meaning it was still possible Aiden was alive. But even as part of me rejoiced that glimmer of hope, another whispered that there was no guarantee he would remain so. No guarantee that he was even moving under his own steam. This was all part of a larger plan—one that had yet to be fully revealed.

  But it would be, instinct whispered, and all too soon.

  “Right,” Tala said. “I’ll take Ms. Grace’s statement and start investigations here. Byron, call in additional people and then go assist Mac. I want this entire mountain searched.”

  It won’t do any good, I thought, as Byron slipped back into the scrub. Waverley was now intent on not only taking revenge on the Redferns, but on those of us who kept interfering.

  “If all your people are now here,” I asked. “Who’s minding the Redferns?”

  Tala frowned. “Maggie—”

  “The receptionist I met at the station? She’s also a ranger?”

  “In training, but more than capable.” Tala’s tone was clipped.

  “I’m not questioning her competence, but whatever else Waverley now has planned, they remain at the core of it all. One lone ranger might not be enough.”

  “One lone ranger is all we have at the moment.” She frowned. “Waverley?”

  “That’s the vampire’s name—Frederick Waverley.”

  “And when the fuck did you learn that?” Blume cut in.

  I glanced at him. “Earlier today, but it won’t help as it’s his birth name and he changed it long ago.”

  “His birth name would have allowed us to contract the registrar and perhaps even gotten us help.” Blume’s voice was devoid of emotion, but his anger was so fierce his aura was little more than a black haze.

  But the fact he knew about the registrar was interesting, as was Tala’s confusion. Obviously, the rangers—and perhaps even werewolves as a whole—weren’t aware of its existence.

  Blume must have realized this, because he glanced at her and waved a hand. “Later.”

  “It would seem our psychic isn’t the only one keeping secrets. But you guys never were the caring, sharing types.” Her gaze returned to me. “I’ll arrange to get extra people allocated to the Redferns. In the meantime, tell me what happened here.”

  By the time I had, the shadows of dusk were closing in, mirroring the trepidation that was settling deeper into my soul.

  “If we bring something of Aiden’s to you, do you think you can find him?” she asked.

  “Maybe. If he isn’t dead.” I paused, and shrugged. “But Waverley is obviously aware of my psychometry skills, and will have countermeasures in place.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “How can magic counter a psychic skill?”

  “A witch can counter just about anything as long as they have the skill and knowledge.”

  Anything except bullets and death. And that possibility still haunted my inner corridors, and would only grow stronger with the onset of night.

  “Have you picked up the wingtip since you arrived here?” Blume asked.

  I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the chill that rose at the thought of going anywhere near that shoe again. “Sorry, but I was too busy trying to stay alive to give the damn shoe a second thought.”

  He frowned. “But you should still be able to trace him through it, shouldn’t you?”

  “That shoe led us into a trap, just as I’d warned. If it were possible to trace him through it, we wouldn’t now be standing in this damn clearing.”

  “I still think you should try.” He strode over to the woodbox and grabbed one of the shoes. “Here.”

  He tossed it toward me. I caught it instinctively and quickly switched it to my gloved hand. A vague sense of hunger stirred across my senses and then died. Whatever spell had been crafted onto this shoe to deceive my psychic senses had long faded—as had whatever connection Waverley had to these shoes.

  “Nothing.” I tossed the shoe back. “He’s awake, but that’s all I’m getting.”

  “Damn.” He put the shoe back and thrust a hand through his short hair. “If Waverley has snatched O’Connor rather than kill him, we’ll undoubtedly hear from him.”

  “You won’t,” I countered. “But I will.”

  “Then perhaps we’d better get back to your café. If he does attempt contact, that’s where it’ll happen.”

  He was the last person I wanted to go anywhere with, but I didn’t particularly want to walk anywhere alone, either. His company was better than nothing.

  I glanced at Tala. “Can I leave?”

  She nodded and looked at Blume. “If Waverley does make contact, you’re to let us know immediately. That clear?”

  He gave her a noncommittal sort of smile and motioned me to follow him.

  True night had settled in by the time we made it back to the café. Belle’s welcoming smile faded when she saw Blume behind me rather than Aiden.

  “You haven’t found him?” she asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Ah.” Her gaze flicked to Blume. “And you’re here to protect us or something?”

  “Or something.” He got out his phone and then dropped down onto a chair. “I’d appreciate a coffee—black—if that’s possible.”

  Belle glanced at me. “You?”

  I shook my head. “I’m heading upstairs for a shower.”

  She came up about half an hour later and sat on the couch beside me. “Blume has reported in to his bosses and requested more help.”

  “It’ll all be over by the time they get here.”

  “Yeah.” She paused. “It’s a shame about Hart. He was a pompous ass, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  “At least it was quick—that’s more than Waverley gave his other victims.”

  “I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. “He had a kid.”

  I didn’t say anything. No kid deserved to grow up without their dad, but nothing I could say—no utterance of regret or sorrow—would change what had happened.

  Belle reached for the remote and turned the TV on. We sat there in silence, watching the news and the programs that followed. It didn’t relax either of us.

  Downstairs, the chime above the café’s door sounded, a merry tune so at odds with the apprehension hanging like a pall over the café. I waited, body tense, for another attack, but nothing else happened. After several seconds, footsteps echoed as Blume moved cautiously toward the door. I glanced at Belle; we rose as one and bolted for the stairs.

  “Someone slipped a note under the door,” Blume said, without looking at us. “Are either of you sensing the presence of anyone nearby?”

>   “No,” Belle said. “But given Waverley has shown a penchant for using gunmen, it wasn’t all that wise to be standing in front of the door before you discovered that.”

  “I’m not in front, I’m to one side, as is standard.” His gaze flicked to me. “If there’s no one near, how did the note get here? Magic?”

  “Possibly, given that chime only sounds when someone is entering the café.”

  I stopped next to Blume and placed a hand against the door. A trace of foul energy lingered around the chime, but the threads of our spells had neither been challenged nor activated. The latter wasn’t really a surprise—while the note undoubtedly held a threat, neither its delivery nor the ringing of the bell posed any danger.

  Blume picked up the folded note and read it. “I have the ranger. If you wish to see him alive, bring Morris Redfern to the clearing you found Karen in at midnight. Do not involve the IIT or the rangers. If I sense either, he dies. Disobey me in any way, and he dies.”

  “Obey,” Belle murmured, “and everyone dies—you, Aiden, and Redfern.”

  I glanced at her. “What other choice have we got though?”

  “He’s going to have measures in place to counter your magic, Lizzie. You can’t do it. Not alone.”

  “I agree,” Blume said. “Even if he wasn’t planning to kill all three of you, it’s simply unacceptable to trade one life for another.”

  “So we do nothing and just let Aiden die?” I bit back. “That’s just as unacceptable in my opinion.”

  Not to mention the fact that it would make life here pretty near untenable.

  “Reinforcements are on their way,” Blume said. “We will stop this bastard.”

  “Are those reinforcements going to be here by midnight?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then the statement is meaningless. I won’t sit back and do nothing. I can’t.”

  “And I won’t let either you or Redfern anywhere near that madman.”

  I stared at him for a moment. “You’re welcome to try and stop me, Blume, but you won’t succeed.”

  He studied me for several seconds, then nodded, as if in acceptance. “But that doesn’t alter the fact I will not put Redfern into the path of that madman.”