Bitten 2 (48 page)

That left Alyssa or Juliet.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket, my heart constricted in my chest when I gazed at the spider web of cracks marring the screen.

“Fuck me!”

Holbrook’s gonna kill me if he has to replace another one. Apparently they don’t design these damn things with raving lunatics and mortal danger in mind.

Miraculously, my tousle with Metembe hadn’t destroyed the infuriating piece of delicate tech, and after much cursing and grumbling I sat listening to it ring as I waited for Alyssa to pick up. I didn’t toss the phone into the backseat when her voicemail clicked on, but it was a close call, and I had to take several deep breaths while counting to ten before I pulled up the number for my last hope.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I chanted under my breath.

I was seconds away from hanging up when a sweet and airy voice floated into my ear. “Hey, Riley. What’s up?”

“Hi, Juliet. Can you meet me somewhere?”

* * *

Wrangling the SUV into a parking spot beside Juliet’s little red Miata, I paused to make sure that there were no more pieces of debris stuck in my hair. Staring at my reflection in the tiny mirror in the visor, I winced at my battered appearance. Blood had dried into a dark crust around the split in my lip and a large bruise was blooming in an array of vivid colors on my cheek and neck. I looked like I’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson and lost. Given how much it hurt to get down out of the car and shuffle my way to the door of the diner, I was betting the rest of me looked little better.

Juliet’s nostrils flared when I opened the door. A smile curved her lips as her head came up, but froze into something closer to a rictus grimace at the sight of me. I’d seen my reflection and was under no delusions as to just how bad I looked. She was already half way out of her seat to lend me a supportive hand before the door had swung shut behind me.

Waving off her offer, I eased myself down into the chair opposite her, all too aware of the burning ache in my ribs.

“What happened?” she asked, her ice blue eyes wide beneath the furrow of her pale blonde brows.

“Umm...” I faltered with no idea where to start.

Even though I’m not known for my tact or subtlety, opening with Metembe’s betrayal and resultant death didn’t seem like the way to go. To my surprise, Juliet was the one to broach the subject.

Her voice, for once, sounded as soft and delicate as she looked, making her appear all the more like a fragile doll I wanted to protect. “Is he dead?”

“Who?”

“Come on, Riley,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at me. “Metembe has been part of my family’s pack since I was a little kid. I know his scent as well as my brother’s. His blood is all over you.”

It was true, several splotches of Metembe’s blood, along with my own, had soaked into my shirt to leave dark stains on the fabric. I was a CSI’s walking wet dream. Sighing and rubbing at my face, wincing when my fingers touched the bruise on my cheek, I launched into my recitation of the evening’s events.

I hadn’t ever thought there would be much that could reduce the free-spirited young were to stunned silence, but even she couldn’t pretend nonchalance when faced with the knowledge that all that remained of Metembe was a patch of blackened earth and a pile of ash. She was so shell-shocked that she didn’t even make a fuss when the waitress brought her regular coffee and creamer instead of some awful soy, decaf concoction.

“So he was—”

“A murderous psycho?” I interrupted before taking a long sip of my water. As much as I craved the warmth a cup of coffee would provide, I was sure the influx of caffeine wouldn’t help soothe the jitters brought on by my mounting exhaustion. “Looks like.”

For a second her lips compressed into a thin line. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“And yet it still fits,” I said with a shrug.

“Did he say why he did it?” she asked after a long pause, the soft vulnerability in her voice hinting at her fear of the answer. Considering he’d been her brother’s second-in-command, I couldn’t blame her, and felt a wave of pity sweep through me as I reached out a hand to cover hers.

“He ranted about blood purity and vamps being a scourge on the earth. The usual nutty babble you’d expect,” I said as I squeezed her hand. “There was one thing though...”

“Oh?” she asked in a querulous voice, the comfort of my touch fleeing in the face of the fear that rose once again to smother everything else. Wide eyes regarded me, asking for the truth while at the same time begging me to shield her from something that would destroy what little remained of her family.

Hesitating, I chewed my lip as I pondered just how to voice my suspicions. I liked the petite blonde; she was kind-hearted, but also possessed a steely edge and sharp wit that made me think she could handle herself. Still, I didn’t think that she was prepared to hear that her brother might have been involved in the murders. And what was to say she wasn’t in on it too?

A spark of fear flared to life in the pit of my stomach, and I wished I could delay the conversation indefinitely.

“What is it?” Juliet asked, the tenderness and sadness in her voice quelling my fear and reaffirming my decision to reveal only what was immediately pertinent.

Sucking in a deep breath I blurted out the words before I could chicken out. “He said he was doing it for Hank.”

I’ve witnessed some heartbreaking things in my life, the deaths of my grandparents ranking high on the list, so I was surprised when watching Juliet’s reaction to my words almost brought me to tears.

It’s probably just because the adrenaline is wearing off
, I reasoned with myself as I watched her appear to deflate, her narrow shoulders slumping as if I had just set the weight of the world on them. I supposed in a way I had.

“You don’t...” she started to say in a tiny voice, and then faltered, tears welling in her eyes. “You don’t think Hank knew, do you?”

“No,” I replied, ignoring the dark whisper of doubt in the back of my mind.

* * *

Alyssa’s clinic was fast becoming a second home, and I felt a subtle easing of the tension in my shoulders when I breathed in a mixture of antiseptic and the sugary scent of the succubus doctor. I was relieved to see the hospital bed in the corner of the room empty. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing any more pain and suffering. My relief turned to surprise when I stepped through the doorway and saw Marvin perched on the back of the chair usually reserved for visitors.

“Hello, Marvin!” he squawked, somehow conveying a sense of smugness in the two simple words.

“Is someone there?” Alyssa’s disembodied voice asked from the small office. A moment later, she came into the room tucking a pen into the hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hey, Riley. I figured you’d be stopping by at some point,” she said, casting a meaningful glance at her feathered companion who gave a wordless trill, and then turned his attention to cleaning the feathers under his wing. “Did everything turn out okay?”

“He proved quite... helpful,” I said, trying to decide how much of the evening’s events I was up to rehashing again. Spilling out the gory details to Juliet had been an exercise in endurance, and I’d exerted the last of my energy bundling her into her car and sending her home.

Alyssa saved me having to divulge any other information as she tilted her chin towards my battered face and torn clothing and frowned. “Well, it looks like he showed up just in time.”

“Yeah, his timing was impeccable.”

“You’d better let me take a look.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping she’d take my word for it and not insist on subjecting me to an examination. It was a futile hope, but I stuck with it anyway. “I’ve already started to heal most of it.”

Looking down at my hands I saw that the cuts and scrapes across my knuckles had indeed shifted from oozing wounds to raised red lines. Within a couple hours they’d be nothing more than faint pink scars. The rest of my injuries were another matter entirely, but Alyssa didn’t need to know that. I could grunt and groan over my injuries all I wanted once I got home, I just needed to keep up the tough act for a little while longer.

A frown appeared between Alyssa’s fiery brows as a petite foot tapped out a sharp tattoo on the floor.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

A shiver that was half fear and half arousal, rippled down my spine at the threat behind her words and the sight of her slender hands flexing at her sides.

Rolling my eyes, I held up my hands in surrender and sighed. “Alright, alright. No need to pull out the succubus voodoo.”

Stripping down to my bra and panties I hopped up onto the exam table, or I would have if every inch of my body hadn’t felt as though it had been run through a meat grinder. After lots of groaning and cursing, I sat gazing down at the top of Alyssa’s head as she inspected a black and purple bruise that curved around my left side.

“Mother fucker!” I swore when a well-placed finger made me see stars.

After the first few minutes, I began to suspect that Alyssa was prolonging my suffering in an attempt to teach me some kind of lesson. Hissing when she prodded a particularly painful bump on my back, I wished she would just tell me whatever it was she wanted to learn and leave me to lick my wounds in peace.

“Well, I don’t see anything too serious,” she announced, and came back around to face me. “You’ve got a lot of bruising and cuts, but it’s all mostly superficial and should heal without a problem in the next couple hours. You’ve got at least one fractured rib,” she said, pointing to the dark band of skin stretching across my left side. “But you know all too well there’s not much to do about that except wait it out.”

Ignoring the verbal jab, I asked, “So, am I good to go?”

Peeling off her exam gloves and throwing them into a nearby trash can, she sat down on the wheeled stool hard enough to make it squeak.

“You’re not invincible, you know.”

“Really? Damn, they didn’t mention that in the handbook,” I replied with a sarcastic twitch of my lips.

The narrowing of her violet eyes told me she wanted to respond with a barb of her own, but she remained silent as I slid down off the exam table to get dressed.

“What do I owe you?” I asked, pulling my shirt over my head and wrinkling my nose at the scent of roasted were. I didn’t have enough clothes to be able to keep throwing them away when they got torn to shreds or covered in vamp goo, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to wear this one again, either.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I know you’re my friend and everything, but at some point you have to let me pay you.”

“Fine. I’ll send you a bill,” she replied, breaking out into a reluctant smile.

Uh huh. I’m sure it’ll show up next week, along with my acceptance letter to Hogwarts,
I thought, knowing she was full of crap.

Sealing our unspoken deal of mutual denial with a tight hug I bid Alyssa farewell and limped my way down the stairs. I still had a few things to do before I could go home and collapse into bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so tired, but instead of calling for a cab or asking Alyssa to give me a ride, I clambered back into the SUV and made the short drive across town.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

MY FEET MOVED with renewed heaviness as I approached Asylum, the neon sign above the door somehow seeming dimmer than before, the street outside grimier. The last time I’d visited the club, I had been relieved to see another vamp manning the door instead of Chuckles, but now I found myself missing his pale face and teasing smile. I couldn’t recall him without also having the memories of his dark blood seeping across the floor.

He was a traitor, and a murderer! You should be glad he’s dead
, I scolded myself, even as I tried to clamp down on the guilt threatening to choke me.

The beefy vamp standing guard at the door could have been a twin to Chuckles, with his milk-white eyes, pallid skin, and shaved head. As I grew closer I could make out the subtle sheen of white-blonde fuzz capping his skull, and the eyes that turned to inspect me held none of Chuckles’ sarcastic humor. Expecting to be challenged, I faltered when the vamp greeted me in a smooth voice and business-like manner.

“Good evening, Ms. Cray. The Shepherd is expecting you.”

“Thanks,” was all I could manage as I mounted the steps and pulled open the heavy door.

Like her counterpart at the door, the female vamp perched on a stool behind the coffin shaped podium made no move to stop me. Instead, she turned her gaze away when I looked in her direction. It was a far cry from the disinterested reaction I’d received the last time I was with Chrismer, and I couldn’t help feeling unsettled by the frosty welcome.

Entering the main part of the club, the air of wrongness continued; although the girls wore the same seductive smiles and truck loads of body glitter, a melancholy air hung over the club. The patrons, of course, were as oblivious as ever, but the scantily clad men and women toting drinks and gyrating on the stage wore brittle masks of happiness. Chuckles had been as much a part of the club as the gleaming brass poles and pulpit DJ booth. Sure, he’d been a traitor to his kind and his Shepherd, but he’d still been one of them. A vamp meeting the final death is a rare occurrence, and the feeling of fear and sadness was palpable.