The Coveted (The Unearthly #2)

  Whoa. I mean, whoa. Out of all the people in the world, Andre had shared this room with exactly one person. Moi.

  I think I squeaked at that realization.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, seeing my face.

  “No. I’m definitely not okay. Why would you trust me after what happened a couple months ago?”

  “You are my soulmate. If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone.”

  His statement made me feel about two inches tall. I hadn’t trusted him when it was important. “I thought you stayed alive all these years by making good decisions,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  He watched me. “I don’t think you realize exactly what you mean to me.”

  I focused on Andre, my mind going silent.

  “When I met you, you were—and still are—the most frustrating girl I ever met. No one talked to me the way you did. At least, not if they valued their lives.”

  I knew it! No one had ever told Andre to shove it. They’d all been feeding his ego.

  Andre gave me a whisper of a smile. “I couldn’t believe you had the audacity to act that way around me. But even less believable to me was that I enjoyed it.

  “Being around you . . . it was like regaining a part of me I never knew I lost. Maybe that was simply because we were soulmates, or maybe it was just your refreshing personality—which, when it comes to women, I have to admit I have undervalued over the centuries.”

  “Damn straight,” I said, folding my arms. “Us women have had to deal with men being visual learners for quite some time.”

  Andre’s smile deepened. “Of course you don’t appreciate that aspect of learning at all.”

  I blushed. He had me there; he could hear my heart pound away anytime he so much as gave me a steamy look.

  His face got serious. “The evening of my birthday—when Theodore raised that gun and aimed right at you—all I could think was that the one person who’d made me feel again, the one person I’d already knew I couldn’t lose, would be snuffed from existence.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “That was all that went through my mind. I wouldn’t even say it was that thought out. After that, I didn’t feel anything but anger until I picked you up from the stairs and carried you outside.”

  I could still see that Andre in my mind’s eye—the rough way he’d lifted me into his arms and his complete disregard for Caleb.

  The Andre in front of me furrowed his brow, his eyes sad. “But once I could feel again . . . the way you looked at me . . .” Andre dragged his gaze from mine. “I realized I’d done something fundamentally and irreversibly wrong. Something that even with all my money and power, I couldn’t fix.

  “I knew the moment you left my arms to run back into the burning building that I’d lost you. Either you’d die inside or you’d never want to see me again.”

  He worked his jaw. “And I was too much of a coward to go after you. I was too afraid I’d die. It was only later that I realized I’d rather die along with you than be separated from you.”

  He stopped talking, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know he felt that way. “Can you forgive me?” He said it so low and his voice was so rough that I almost didn’t hear him at all. By the uncomfortable way the words fell from his lips, I was willing to bet serious money that Andre hadn’t said that line in centuries.

  “You’ve forgotten something really important,” I said. “I am your soulmate as well. Even if I wanted to stay mad at you or stay away from you—and I tried—I can’t. Sorry Andre, but you’re stuck with me.”

  ***

  Suddenly his lips pressed hot and fervent along my own. I gasped into his mouth, my skin instantly feeling feverish. Andre stretched out over me, the sinewy bulges of muscle along his arms standing out as he held himself up.

  He pushed away from me to drink me in. “I am so glad you feel the way you do because staying away from you for two months almost killed me.”

  “You and me both,” I said under my breath.

  I ran my hands down his chest. Beneath the thin fabric of Andre’s shirt, his muscles tensed. All that is on God’s green earth, this man should need a permit to feel this good.

  The siren within me began to rise and I pushed her back down. I was so not going to cut this short because she decided to crash the party.

  Andre lowered himself so that our bodies were flush with one another and kissed me again. I shivered at the sensation of having him so close.

  One of his hands skimmed up the side of my torso, brushing against my breast as he did so. His other arm was propped up on his elbow, his hand combing back the hair that surrounded my face.

  He ran his free hand down my face. “It goes without saying that you are the loveliest creature in existence.” His gaze filled with longing. “But even if you weren’t, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful girl in all my years.”

  The heat of his words threatened to consume me. My breathing came in short bursts. “I want to—”

  Andre put his fingers to my lips. As I watched, he shuttered his eyes. When he opened them again, they were full of affection and regret.

  Uh oh. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, “we’re still not going there.” He didn’t have to clarify where there was. Party pooper.

  “But—” My mouth moved against his fingers.

  “But it’s only been a week since we began to rebuild our relationship. I told you I didn’t want to rush you, and that’s exactly what would happen if we went there tonight.” For all of his sexual innuendos and heated remarks he made, he hardly followed through on any of them.

  “You are my soulmate,” he continued, his voice emphasizing every word, “and on your way to becoming immortal. We have forever to spend together. A little waiting never killed anyone.”

  “Now’s not the time to test that rule,” I said, thinking of the devil. I wasn’t sure what plans he had in store for me on Samhain.

  Andre seemed to understand what I wasn’t saying. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, so there’s no reason to be worried.”

  For all the assurance that filled his voice and all the determination written across his face, I wasn’t reassured. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter 14

  “Just so you know, I’m a modern woman,” I said to Andre when his driver pulled up to my dorms, well aware that girl seemed like a more appropriate name for what I was.

  Tonight Andre wanted to be the passenger rather than the driver, so we sat in the back seat of the same car Andre had used for our first date. Strange that then I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disgruntled because I wanted more than he was willing to give.

  Oh the irony.

  “Forgive me,” he said, his mouth curving up on one side, “for I am not a modern man.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” I grumbled under my breath. I mean, this dude was 700 years old. I bet he’d been with a lot of women in a very modern way.

  “What was that you said?” he asked. His eyes gleamed dangerously.

  “Nothing.”

  His hand, which had rested on my hip in a way that wasn’t helping to cleanse my mind of all its dirty thoughts, now fell away as I opened the car door.

  Andre grabbed my hand as I began to step out. “Things are probably going to be rough this week. Keep your chin up. I’ll see you again two nights from now,” he said, referring to the next time we’d meet up to discuss the investigation and training.

  He pulled me back in for a kiss and I melted against him.

  My phone buzzed in my pant’s pocket, interrupting our kiss. Andre made an annoyed noise as I pulled it out. As soon as I saw that Hellhole was calling, I sat back in my seat and closed the door behind me.

  “Would you mind drivin
g me to Castletown?” I asked.

  Andre’s eyes landed on the ID and I could’ve sworn he stifled a smile. To the driver he said, “James, please take us to the Politia’s headquarters.”

  This night was just getting better and better.

  ***

  When I arrived at the morgue, Caleb, Maggie, and Chief Constable Morgan were already examining the body with the pathologist. I held my breath and promised myself I’d breathe solely through my mouth while here. As for looking at the victim, I’d try to keep that to a minimum.

  Chief Constable Morgan’s eyes swept over my clothes, and I knew it didn’t escape his notice that I wore the same clothes I had at the crime scene, even though several hours had lapsed between.

  Maggie came over to me, and I stepped back. “Don’t touch me,” I warned her.

  “Wasn’t going to,” she said, her voice icy. “The chief constable and I need to speak with you. Privately.”

  The atmosphere in the room had a hard edge to it. Even the pathologist managed to scowl at me, and I’d never officially met him. Caleb, the only one who seemed comfortable with my presence, seemed to be apologizing with his eyes.

  “Sure,” I said, trying to act nonchalant. This was the reprimand I’d been expecting from them all evening.

  I followed them out of the morgue, yawning as I did so. As soon as this case was closed, I had every intention of sleeping for a few days straight.

  Inspector Comfry and Chief Constable Morgan led me to the chief constable’s office. “Please Gabrielle, take a seat,” Morgan said.

  I perched myself on the edge of one of the visitor chairs, looking from one of them to the other. Worry settled deep into my bones, but I tried to not let it show.

  Maggie perched on the side of the desk and the chief constable lowered himself into his seat.

  He shuffled through some of the papers on his desk. “As of this moment you are suspended from the Politia,” he said not looking up.

  For a moment I sat there and just stared. I couldn’t even manage to feel anything other than surprise. Is this really how organizations drop bad news on people?

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  Morgan looked up. “You’ve been suspended,” he said, setting aside the papers in his hands. “We know you’re not behind these murders, but the community is out for blood, and they’re unhappy we’ve recruited a vampire onto our force. Until this is over, you’ll be asked to not set foot on the premises unless you have information pertinent to this case.”

  “That’s it?” The whole situation felt surreal. One minute I was a part of the Politia, the next I wasn’t.

  It reminded me of my chats with Principal Hazard a couple months ago, when I was forced to do independent study for a week. However, unlike Hazard, if the chief constable disliked me, he hid his emotions well.

  Chief Constable Morgan’s gaze somewhat softened, which likely meant that I looked more than a little pathetic. “Yes, that is it. If you had a badge and issued weapons, we’d ask you to turn those over, but that’s not the case. Feel free to keep the files we’ve given you. It’s our hope that you’ll continue to work on the investigation for the sake of the truce.”

  “Is this because I showed up at the crime scene?”

  That was the wrong thing to say.

  “Amazingly Gabrielle, not everything is about you.” Two splotches of color appeared on either side of the chief constable’s face. Still a sore spot I guess. “We’ll give you a call when your suspension has been lifted. Now get the hell out of my office.”

  I left his office with as much dignity as I could and caught a cab back to my dorm.

  The clock next to my bed said that it was 5:15 a.m., which meant that I could get about two hours of sleep before class. I may be suspended, I may be hated, and I may be stalked by the devil, but at least I wouldn’t have to pull a complete all-nighter tonight.

  Thank God for silver linings.

  ***

  “I’m so sorry about this Gabrielle,” Oliver said, dropping a physical copy of today’s newspaper on my chest.

  “Hmmm,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I stretched and sat up in bed, blinking away the sleep from my eyes. I felt like death warmed over—not an entirely inaccurate description. “It can’t already be time to get up.”

  I squinted at the clock. It couldn’t possibly say that it was 7:45 a.m. That would mean . . .

  “Crap!” I scrambled out of bed and began to change, not caring at the moment that Oliver was in the room with me.

  “Oliver, don’t look,” I said as I began to change in the corner of the room. Leanne must’ve already left for class since her bed was made and her satchel was gone.

  “Pfft, as if I’d even be remotely interested in your goods. Now Andre, on the other hand . . .”

  “Please don’t finish that statement. I really don’t want to know what fantasies you have that center around my undead boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?” Oliver started to turn.

  “Oliver, you’d better keep your eyes to yourself,” I warned.

  He huffed, but I could tell he wasn’t truly offended because the smile was back in his voice when he spoke again. “Tell me you took advantage of that situation and jumped his bones.”

  “Oh, I tried to take advantage, but no, unfortunately, no bones were jumped,” I said, sliding on my long sleeved blouse.

  Oliver made a tsk-ing sound. “This just keeps getting better and better. Do spill.”

  “There’s nothing to spill. It didn’t happen.” I untucked my hair from my shirt and made my way back to my bed. “I’m more interested in whatever it is that you saw in the paper.”

  I picked up the newspaper.

  Vampire Gabrielle Fiori Suspended from Politia Amidst Accusations of Murder

  The school picture I’d taken several weeks ago had been plastered on the front of the page, right next to an image of the cops at last night’s crime scene. The unstated connection was clear: they paper wanted me to look like the killer.

  “At least your hair and make up looks good in the picture,” Oliver said thoughtfully, coming up next to me to peer at the paper. He tilted his head. “I was definitely on my game that day when I helped you get ready.”

  I ignored his comment and turned to him. “There’s a question neither you nor Leanne have asked me yet.”

  Oliver put his hands on his hips. “Yes?”

  “Neither of you have asked if I did it.”

  Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “Of course we didn’t ask you that. I’m offended you’d even have to bring this up. After all, you’re working on the investigation.”

  “So? I could’ve still done it.”

  Oliver moved to the mirror and checked out his hair. “You set the case files on the desk—not too smart when you have a fairy for a roommate.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You rifled through the cases?” I asked incredulously.

  He moved away from the mirror, crouched next to Leanne’s bed, and pulled out her stash of candy. “Of course,” he said, his back to me. He took two generous handfuls of the fun-sized chocolates, and pushed the nearly emptied remains of the bag back under her bed.

  “Oh, and Leanne knows as well,” Oliver added. “She saw the files, but she’s also foreseen all those crime scenes. She told me.”

  She hadn’t mentioned foreseeing the crime scenes to me—not that she had any reason to. It just seemed odd that she’d tell one friend but not the other.

  I rubbed my temples. “So much for keeping the investigation a secret.” I dropped my hand. “Is she alright?” I asked, grabbing my bag and looking pointedly at her empty bed.

  For one rare moment I glimpsed Oliver serious. “I don’t think so. But she won’t talk about what’s going
on.”

  Oliver stared at me for a moment. “You won’t freak out if I show you something I found on her desk, will you?”

  “No.” Maybe. I kept that to myself, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Okay, just a second.” Oliver wound his way around his makeshift bed to Leanne’s desk. The cluttered surface was nearly as messy as Chief Constable Morgan’s.

  Oliver pushed aside several sheets of paper. From amongst the pile he pulled a small note and brought it back to me.

  The blood in my veins chilled as I read the note now in my hands.

  Make sure that on Samhain Gabrielle does not sell her soul.

  Chapter 15

  The day was just as bad as it promised to be. My first two classes were cut short so that the school could attend a memorial service for the two students who had been killed in the attacks. I spent an hour receiving harsh glares and frightened looks from both students and teachers. Their expressions said it all; they blamed me, either directly or indirectly, for crimes I not only didn’t commit, but crimes I was also desperately trying to solve. That made the whole ordeal that much harder to endure.

  The looks continued during my third period history class, and once the bell rang, I left history room to the sound of whispered accusations.

  Caleb followed me out the door of our history class. Throughout the hour he’d sent me apologetic glances, which I pretended not to notice. I couldn’t deal with his pity on top of everyone else’s fear and anger. However, I had found another silver lining: all the raging scents rolling off of people had given me ample opportunity to practice sheathing my teeth. I was almost a pro at it. Almost.

  “Gabrielle, I’m so sorry about the Politia,” he said, grabbing my arm and stopping me outside our class.

  Down the hall two teachers walked close together, their heads bowed. “Do you think that could be true?” I heard one of them whisper.