Bite Deep (32 page)

He heaved a sigh, as if impatient for the conversation to be over. ‘Yes. It was my duty to protect him, and I failed. These scars were put there to remind me of that.'

‘Were you close to him?' she asked. ‘This king you served?'

Jericho shrugged. ‘Not terribly. But he was a good leader. A powerful alpha. I respected him.'

‘And the challenging king did that to you?' Lydia gestured to her own face, mirroring where the scars marked him.

‘No, his Enforcer did.' Jericho took one of her hands, lifting it to run her fingers along the scars on his face. ‘Tradition dictates the Enforcer of a fallen king dies with him. But I was spared, my face marked and set with salt as a reminder of my failure.'

Lydia ran her fingers along the scars, trying to imagine the pain. It wasn't hard, and she pressed her lips against his. He didn't respond at first, until she nipped his lower lip, insisting. His mouth opened then, crushing her against him as he kissed her back, deep and sure.

* * *

Lydia yawned as she ran a hand over her neck in the shower. The water was freezing, but she didn't mind, the chill waking her sleep-dulled mind. Her neck was bruised and the stitches hard knots under her touch, but there was little pain and in fact, she could hardly see why stitches had been needed in the first place.

Soft morning light filtered through the small bathroom window, bathing the wood-panelled bathroom in a golden glow. She closed her eyes, steeling herself to stay under the cold water another minute. She had things she needed to sort out today, and convincing Jericho she had to talk to Coulter was one of them. Confronting Bowden was another. A frank conversation between the two of them was well overdue. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly wrapped a towel around herself, teeth chattering.

‘Want me to take a look at your neck?'

In the mirror, she saw Jericho behind her, arms folded.

‘I'm fine,' she told him.

‘I want you to stay here this morning,' he said. ‘While I try to sort things out. Things aren't stable at the Dog House and I want to make certain you're not in any danger.'

She turned to face him, realising he meant it. That he thought it was his role to protect her, when it was supposed to be the other way around. What went down yesterday would not stand. In fact, a lot of things in Camden weren't right. But first, she needed to address the issue of Coulter. She gave Jericho a reassuring smile that felt tight at the edges. ‘I don't need you to protect me.'

His brow rippled with a frown. ‘My world is dangerous, Lydia. I don't want you hurt.'

‘I know your world is dangerous, but mine is too.'

‘You don't understand,' he said, then fell silent, hands dropping to his side. He took a deep breath, before saying, ‘I took you into a secure compound meant for Breed only. I thought I was doing the right thing, but by taking you into Crystal Waters, you came to the attention of those who'd hurt you. Those who think you're a Hunter.'

She saw the concern in his face, but knew she couldn't hold herself hostage to his worry for her. ‘I don't care about your super-secret Breed laws, Jericho. I care about people being able to trust the law that was set in place.' She inched her chin up. ‘You say some of your kind wants me dead and I should hide? I say let them come and I'll deal with it. But I won't stay here while my home town is torn apart.'

‘I'm not asking you to do that,' Jericho said through clenched teeth. ‘I'm asking you to lay low for a couple of days, that's all.'

‘You're asking me to ignore the fact that Coulter knows the identity of a killer in town.' Her eyes darted away. ‘And the fact that he's a murder himself.'

‘He'll pay for his past crimes,' Jericho growled. ‘And he'll give up a name for us. I guarantee it.'

Lydia opened her mouth to argue, but saw from Jericho's face she'd be wasting her breath. She crossed her arms, mimicking his body posture. ‘I'm a cop, Jericho. I enforce the law and I don't like the idea of your kind running about, thinking they can get away with murder.' She sucked in a breath. ‘You need to tell me where Coulter is. If he's still alive, I need to talk to him.'

‘I can't do that.'

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Look, just tell me where he is, okay?'

‘He's somewhere I can't take you without putting us both at risk, so don't ask me again. My answer won't change.'

‘I could get a warrant to search the compound for him, you know,' she threatened.

Jericho's eyelids lowered, the hint of an annoying smile playing on his lips. ‘I doubt that, baby.'

‘Don't call me that.' She looked away, suddenly fuming because she knew he was right. There was no way Bowden would green light the paperwork for a search warrant. Though what end that would serve, she had no idea.

‘Fine.' Jericho reached for her, pulling her against him. ‘You want to tell me what last night was about then? Was I just a random fuck?'

‘Let go of me.' She struggled in his grip, fury mounting. ‘I don't know what last night was. All I know is I won't stay here, waiting for the menfolk to return.'

Jericho let her go suddenly and she stumbled back. ‘Fine,' he said. ‘Do what you want.'

‘I'm going to go into town,' she said, breathless. ‘I've got to talk to Bowden.'

Jericho opened his mouth to argue when his mobile rang. He grabbed it out of his back pocket, turning away from her to bark into the receiver. Lydia slipped past him and into the room, searching for her clothes. She finally found them in the living room by a cold fire. She had her pants on and was buttoning up her shirt when Jericho stepped into the room, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. She noted he didn't look angry anymore. In fact, she couldn't read him at all.

‘Who was that?' she asked.

‘Turk. I have to go. Right now. There's trouble heading for the bar and fucking Vaughn is nowhere around.'

Lydia's radar switched on. ‘What kind of trouble?'

‘Some out-of-town bikers we've had trouble with before have been spotted heading towards the bar.'

‘Do you need help?' The offer flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. Despite being furious at him for treating her like she was helpless, she still felt connected to him somehow, a connection that ran strong and deep.

‘I want you to stay here,' he said. She heard the concern in his voice, saw how worried he was. A thought glimmered, that maybe Jericho was harbouring feelings for her beyond casual carnal lust. It frightened her when she found she liked that idea very much.

She swallowed, trying to find the right words to make things right between them. ‘Look. I'm just going into town to check in with Bowden. Then I'll head home around lunch. We can meet up there, if you like.' She stepped close to him, suddenly wanting to feel his arms around her, his warm skin beneath her hands. She reached up to dance her fingers over his solid chest, before he drew her into an embrace. His lips lowered to hers, seeking, wanting, needing, the kiss hungry and hot. Lydia's body responded to him, aching for his touch. She clamped down on the feeling, breaking the kiss and pulling away.

‘Agreed?' she asked, breathless.

He stared at her for a long moment, as if still struggling with the concept of a compromise. She got it. He was a president of a motorcycle club and the leader of the most unstable males of his species. What he said, went. But she was a cop and if he didn't understand she had her own responsibilities, then whatever they had would die before the morning was done.

‘Agreed.'

She watched as he headed for the door without another look, back stiff. She hoped he could handle the trouble he was heading out to fix, and that things wouldn't turn violent. But she wouldn't offer to help—she'd wait until he asked. Then she would give him everything he needed.

He opened the front door and paused to look back at her. ‘Your car's still out front. To get back into town, follow the road south. You'll hit town within the half hour.' He hesitated, then added, ‘I programmed my number into your phone. Call me the moment you need me.'

Then he was gone, door slamming behind him. She sat, grabbing her boots and pulling them on, hearing the roar of his bike start up and fade into the distance.

Chapter 32

Lydia drove towards town in the Solbergs' ute. She wound the window down, letting the cool morning air into the cabin, a light rain sprinkling her windscreen. On the horizon, storm clouds darkened the sky, and the smell of an oncoming storm came with the breeze.

Despite the uneasy compromise with Jericho, her mind kept slipping back to their night together. He had been a considerate lover, and she had felt at ease with him. A small part of her hoped he'd come to her house later. Maybe for a coffee and a chat. Popcorn and a movie. Some fooling around on the couch. She tried to squash the thought and tried to ignore the way thinking of him quickened her breath.

She braked for a stop light, before turning onto the main street and the fantasy vanished like a wisp of smoke, replaced by frustration. She hit a fist against the steering wheel. If there was one thing her awkward teenage years had taught her, it was that mooning over a man was a waste of time. She would never fit in Jericho's life, just as he would never fit in hers. Last night had been a one-time thing, that was it. Right now, she needed to concentrate on finding Anna's killer, which meant talking to Coulter. But with Jericho being a stubborn bastard, Bowden was looking like her best chance to figuring out how to get access to the Diablo Dogs compound.

She turned into the police station parking lot, knowing it was time to force the senior sergeant to show his hand. She was going to confront him on exactly what his deal was with the Breed. Maybe he could squeeze out of Jericho where Coulter was. It felt underhanded, but waiting for Jericho to provide her with answers wasn't going to work for her.

Inside the station, Elaine's eyes popped wide and she hurried around the counter.

‘Lydia? What are you doing in here? The sarg said you were sick and might be home all week.' Her words came out in a rush, then she stopped, eyeing Lydia's clothes. ‘Is that blood?'

‘Uh, no,' Lydia murmured. ‘Old shirt, old stains.'

‘No clean clothes?' Elaine gave her a wary look. ‘Okay, I get that. You're sure you're feeling okay?'

‘Elaine, I really need to talk to Bowden. Is he here?'

The spiky-haired woman jerked a thumb towards his office. ‘But he's with Belinda from the Early Bird Bakery. She came in ten minutes ago, all upset and said she wanted to file a complaint.' Elaine paused, then added, ‘She looked pretty shook up.'

‘This can't wait,' Lydia said, hurrying towards Bowden's door. She burst through the door without knocking to see Bowden behind his desk, face pensive. A woman sat in the chair opposite him, her face flushed and furious looking. Bowden raised his eyebrows at Lydia questioningly.

‘I thought you were sick,' he said.

‘Is that her?' The woman turned to fix Lydia with a glare.

Bowden gestured wearily to her. ‘Lydia, this is Belinda Stewart. She owns the bakery down the road.'

The woman's head snapped back to Bowden. ‘I don't understand why you're just sitting there, like what I've told you is nothing. He assaulted me.'

Bowden make a placating gesture. ‘He called you a couple of dirty names. I agree, that was out of line. But I can tell you now, it just sounds like he'd had a bit too much to drink.'

‘Too much to drink?' Belinda looked like she wanted to slap him. ‘So much he thought I was her?' She jerked a thumb at Lydia. ‘We don't look a thing alike!'

‘Who thought you were me?' Lydia asked the woman.

‘Let's not get too hasty here.' Bowden held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. ‘After all, a man's reputation is a fragile thing, you know. You start making accusations about his intentions and before you know it, he gets ostracised from the community.' He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. ‘If you ask me, that's a pretty harsh sentence for a young man who just lost his cool and got confused.'

‘Confused?' Belinda's voice rose. ‘He called me a
whore!'

‘Who?' Lydia nearly shouted.

Bowden gave Lydia an exasperated look. ‘Lydia, get out please. I'll see you in a minute.'

She stared at Bowden, frustrated. Then a thought came to her—Elaine would know what was going on. She turned and marched out of the office, heading for Elaine's desk, when Novak appeared from the bathroom, buckling his belt up. When he saw her, he sneered.

‘I hear you're a real heartbreaker,' he said.

Lydia stopped and stared at him. ‘What do you mean?'

He jerked his head towards Bowden's now closed door. ‘Heard Jamie McCormick went on a bender. Started spewing some shit about you.'

‘Me?' Lydia frowned. She hadn't called Jamie after their meal, but to be fair, he hadn't called her either. ‘I don't know why. We had one meal together.'

‘Yeah?' Novak grinned. ‘You sure it was just dinner? You sure he didn't get some dessert after?'

Lydia didn't bother defending herself; she knew when she was being baited. She whirled back inside Bowden's office and he shot to his feet, face flushing red.

‘Constable Gault, I told you to wait outside,' he thundered.

She ignored him, addressing Belinda. ‘What did Jamie McCormick say to you, specifically? I need to know. It's important.'

‘How he wasn't going to let me take his place,' Belinda shrugged. ‘None of it made much sense.'

Lydia swayed, her hand shooting out to steady herself against the wall, the realisation a sucker punch to the guts. She remembered how Jamie had made her laugh at the Camden Grill. A Breed Hunter, hiding in plain sight.