Creature of Habit (Book 3) (23 page)

Chapter 41

Grant

The door wasn’t too far away and we made it through to the outside, gravel crunching under our feet. I felt relief just getting away from the mass of bodies.

“Grant! Amelia!” a familiar voice called and I spun to find Olivia racing toward us, a large hunting bow in her hand.

“You’re okay!” Amelia threw her arms around her. “You’re okay. Thank God! But how? How are you here?”

“That bitch screwed with my head, but I don’t know, I guess I just pushed past it. Or maybe it only lasted for a certain amount of time.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “She’s powerful, but not that powerful.”

I grinned, relieved to see her safe.

She looked behind us and asked, “Where are the others?”

“Sebastian is still inside, but I haven’t seen anyone else. Where are Elijah and Miles?” I asked. Amelia’s hand clenched tight in mine.

“They’re blocking the back entrance.” She lifted the bow. “We’ve been attacking on both sides with the explosives. Oh God.” She flung her arms around me. “I didn’t know if we’d ever see either of you alive again.”

A flock of falcons cried overhead, circling furiously, until they spotted a vampire cross the threshold of the building. Then they’d attack, claws and beaks ready, tearing out their eyes. I glanced to the door and watched a large red fox dragging a vampire out the door.  Sebastian fought the animal, kicking and clawing, but the fox never let go. Behind him, with a blaze of fire at his back, Ryan’s massive form ran out of the warehouse, falling to the ground and pushing the animal aside.

With a fast look at Olivia, I released Amelia’s hand and ran over. She started to follow but Olivia grabbed her hand and I heard her whisper, “Wait.”

“What are you doing? What the hell?” Ryan screamed. “Are you trying to kill yourself? Are you out of your mind?” He pummeled him with questions and his fists. Bass broke free and raced back to the building but Ryan caught him again and dragged him back.

I pushed off my feet and flew through the air, tackling Ryan to the ground.

“Stop!” I growled, taking a punch to the chin. I hit him back, but he overpowered me, fueled on rage and quickly tossed me to the side.

Sebastian hopped to his feet, covered in dirt, ash, and blood. His eyes darted back to the warehouse and then to his brother. I jumped back in the middle to make sure Ryan didn’t kill him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, moving back to the entrance. “I love you, but I can’t leave him in there.”

“Who?” Ryan asked, holding him by the shoulders. His voice rose over the creaking building, desperate and scared.

Sebastian looked small. He looked defeated—his posture slumped under the anger of his brother. But sincerity shone in his eyes. “I love him. I always have. Remember that. Remember that this was my choice.”

Ryan shook his head—and Sebastian like he was a rag doll, not a supernaturally strong vampire. “You’re not thinking straight.”

Footsteps and shadows rounded the building. Miles, Elijah, and Xavier came into view. From the other side of the building more people appeared including Genevieve and Judson.

“Everyone is here,” Ryan said. “We’ve got to get out of here before this whole place blows. Before the police show up and once again the Palmer family can be tied to a massive death toll and fire.”

“I’m not leaving him, Ryan,” Bass said in a strained voice.

From the look in Ryan’s eyes there was no doubt he knew Bass was speaking about Emmanuel. He knew, and the odds were that he’d known longer than he’d revealed.

“It’s too late. He’s gone.” He grabbed his brother by the wrist. “Don’t do this.”

“I have to be sure.” He swallowed, attempting to wrench his hand away from Ryan. “I have to.”

I stepped forward and said, “Ryan let him go.”

He swung his eyes at me, dark and accusatory. “Stay out of this, Grant! This is as much your fault as that bastard’s.”

I looked between the brothers, feeling the pain in the moment, the heat at my back. I wrapped my hand around Ryan’s wrist and said again, “Let him go.”

“Fuck you! Would you do the same for your family? If it was Amelia?”

I stared at him. “If Amelia was in that building I would kill someone to get back inside. Even my family.”

My words jolted him like a slap in the face. He took a step back and released Sebastian from his grip.

Sebastian hesitated to place a hand on my arm and said, “Thank you,” and disappeared into the fiery doorway. Ryan screamed, and his palms connected with my chest, knocking me to the ground on my back.  He hulked over me, fist raised but the punch never came. Dark shadows flew over my head, and the weight of his body landed with a heavy thud nearby.

Amelia appeared over me and helped me from the ground. I kept an eye on Ryan, but he stalked off, brushing past Miles and into the dark surrounding us. When I looked back at Amelia I touched her chest.

“Where’s the stone?”

“Gone. I destroyed it.”

I moved my fingers to her neck. Her pulse was silent.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I think so.” I ran my fingers through her smoke-streaked hair. “Are you?”

She nodded and said, “I will be.”

~*~

Sebastian never emerged from the building. Neither did Emmanuel. Two shifters lost their lives. And Elijah found the metal cuff that had been secure around Noor’s neck, lying in a pile of ash and bone near the back of the warehouse, not far from the metal steps.

We sifted through the debris searching for any trace of survivors, but if Sebastian was alive, he didn’t want us to find him. When it was time to leave Ryan refused to come with us, instead getting into his truck and driving away. It was possible he’d never come home again, but forever was a long time and maybe one day he’d feel ready to be part of the family again.

Maybe.

Amelia rode home in silence, only requesting that we go back to the Asheville house. Once there, she climbed the stairs, changed into a Smiths T-shirt, and crawled into bed. She didn’t speak for three days, but she curled her body into mine under the covers.

We were raw but not broken.

Deep in the night, when I was convinced she’d figured out how to actually sleep, she shifted from her position and untangled herself from my arms. I watched on a propped elbow as she removed her shirt. Then her shorts. She pushed me back and climbed over my body.

I waited for the passion to emerge—the intensity of our last lovemaking sessions. Part of me wondered who I’d been having sex with. My Amelia or the one taken over by Noor?

She ran a finger slowly down my cheek, brushing a thumb over my lips. She bent, breasts grazing my chest and kissed me with a need that rang of its own truth.

Ah.

She took her time, feeling every inch of my skin, tracing the curves of my chest and hips. She stroked me hard and explored the parts of my body that made my fingers curl into the sheets.

She rose up, giving me space to guide in, and pressed her hand to my chest. Her hips rolled, moving painfully slow. I rose to meet her, grazing a hand across her breasts, feeling her nipples harden beneath my touch.

I could do many things, but the thrill of her body reacting to mine might just be my proudest.

She scraped her fingers down my chest, until she brushed it against the hair under my navel. She toyed with it, chest bouncing with the rhythm of our thrusts. My body trembled, fingers pressed against her waist, sliding down to her hips. She rolled again and again and again, and I grunted with each pass.

She hovered over me like an angel, hair trailing over shoulders. The wounds on her shoulders left scars, but it only made her a warrior, one that I’d let ride me into oblivion.
Rock, rock, rock
, my cock hardened and pulsed with each move. My stomach clenched. Her mouth pressed against mine.
Rock, rock, rock
, she bit down on my lip, tugging it gently, but I felt the spark underneath. The fire. She wanted it slow this time, but that girl I had ravished in the woods was still close to the surface. The idea pitched me forward, my neck straining and my hands pulling her hard against my hips.

She cried against my mouth, ripples of contractions rolling up her spine. Her hands found my fingers and laced them together. With her face settled into a peace I hadn’t seen in months, she spoke for the first time in three days. “When can we get married?”

My heart seized. “Whenever you want. Wherever. Name it.”

“Tomorrow?”

I thought of Olivia’s reaction. “If you want.”

“I want.”

Chapter 42

Amelia

The ceremony would take place in the library, beneath the Jackson Pollock painting. Olivia was furious about the short notice, the venue, and my lack of bending to her will, but she and Genevieve arrived with an armful of dresses and accessories, prepared to make it happen. To her distress, I had already called Drew and asked him to bring one from the apartment. I’d been saving it for a special occasion.

“Do you think Ryan will come?” I asked Olivia. We stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her quick fingers plucking imaginary strings from the back of the dress.

She shook her head. “He feels betrayed.”

“Sebastian loved Emmanuel. As hard as it may be to understand, I saw it for myself.”

Her eyes held mine. “He’ll come around. Eventually.”

“Being part of this family has never been easy,” Genevieve said from the doorway. Her black hair was stick straight and her lipstick blood red. Drew hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since he walked in the door. He was completely enthralled. “There have always been ups and downs.”

“You should have been here when Grant went on the killing spree.”

The tone of her voice made me laugh, even though it was a horrible thing to say. I got it though. Living for eternity meant we all had more time to make mistakes. It also meant we had time for redemption.

Olivia faced me and took both my hands. “Are you ready? Of course you’re ready, but God, I can’t believe Grant’s getting married! That’s the unreal part about this.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Genevieve agreed.

Drew waited for me at the bottom of the stairs. Grant stood in the library, visible in the reflection of the hallway mirror. His presence as formidable from a distance as up close. He was handsome and strong. Eyes alert. Head tilted. He looked right at the mirror. I was his compass.

“This seems fast,” Drew said, linking his arm through mine. “Isn’t this fast?”

“Totally fast.”

“I mean, six months ago you wanted to kill this guy for being such an asshole. Like you quit and did that whole thing with his T-shirt… and oh my God.” He covered his mouth dramatically. “He digs crazy chicks.”

“Shut up. I’m not crazy.” Okay, maybe a little crazy, but we were way beyond all that. “I think that sometimes it’s just right, you know?”

My eyes roamed over the house. I could see the security system Grant had torn from the wall in a fit of rage. My desk where I’d left my resignation letter. The very spot where we saw each other before our first date. There were scars on my neck and a constant pain in my heart. I’d already gained and lost part of my new family.

I was barely a shadow of the person I’d been when I’d first walked through that front door and I’d never been more excited about my very long, unpredictable life.

“Do you love him?” Drew asked.

I nodded as Olivia waved at us to start walking. We rounded the corner and I saw him standing next to his family. Grant wore a navy suit with brand-new shoes. The laces sat even, right in place. A strand of hair flopped into his eyes and he scowled, pushing it back into the thick mess on top of his head. Miles and Elijah stood by his side, and my heart clenched at the two that were missing.

“More than life itself,” I replied.

I stared at the man down the aisle and he stared back at me. Drew tightened his grip on my arm, squeezed my hand, and walked me to my future.

Epilogue

Amelia

"Mr. Wayne, did you need these files double sided or single…" Amanda's voice broke called from the door but her question fizzled and hung limp in the air.

Grant and I were at a stand-off of sorts. I could only imagine what we looked like from her point of view. My arms were crossed and my shoulders back, while my hair swung defiantly towards my waist.

When Amanda entered the room, my nostrils flared at the developing flush on her pale cheeks and her quickened heartbeat. I narrowed my eyes at Grant, who caught my slip.

"Single," Grant replied, never taking his eyes off of mine, and with a low whisper the young brunette assistant excused herself and scurried from the room.

It was probably the right move. I wouldn't suggest anyone getting between a husband and wife in the middle of a fight. Especially when the husband and wife were immortal and the room held the electric chemistry that Grant and I have with one another.

He leaned against his desk, arms mirroring mine with his long legs crossed at the ankles. He looked amazing, of course, and frankly I would have jumped him right there if I weren’t so angry with him.

"I'm going," I said, restraining my foot from stomping immaturely on the ground. I'd come a long way in controlling my temper and refused to let him see me lose it.

He didn't even offer me a verbal response, instead shaking his head slowly, his jaw set with conviction.

"I am. And you can't stop me." That comment was rewarded with one of his eyebrows, perfectly arched and raised, clearly challenging my statement.

After a long moment, he finally groaned and ran his fingers though his eternally messy hair, burying his face in his hands. "Amelia, no. It's too dangerous."

"Of course it's not," I argued. He worried too much. Especially about me. He’d barely let me out of his sight after the incident with Noor.

"You know it is. You know more than anyone." Pain flickered across his face at the thought, remembering everything that had happened before. I sighed in annoyance. Stupid over-protective husband.

"No, what I know is that we agreed to do this together," I said, taking a step closer, feeling the current between us spark and flare. "And this is part of the job description."

Grant reached his hand out towards me, holding it in the air until I put my hand in his and allowed him to pull me forward into his chest.

I felt his nose on the top of my head and heard him inhale deep. He placed a gentle kiss against my temple and said, "I know we agreed. And so far everything has worked out better than expected. The office and the house and being so close to family after all this time…I just think maybe I should keep this part of our lives separate."

My fingers linked around his back, running over the soft cotton of his dress shirt, counting the familiar muscles beneath the fabric. I lifted my head to see his eyes, violet and bright. "What would have happened to me if you weren't patrolling that night when Sasha lured me into the back alley?"

His eyes darkened at her name, and he twisted his face away in anguish. "It's not the same thing."

Placing my hand on his jaw, I captured his eyes again. "To me, it is. Helping you do this is something that's very important to me. I want to help people."

He nodded, this time in agreement, the argument over, hopefully for the final time. We’d moved to the city, New York, and into the brownstone owned by his family. We’d set up a tentative relationship with The Council, on our terms, working and living amongst humans. It was our job to keep people safe. Both of us.

~*~

Grant

"What is that?" I asked, eyeing the package Olivia had just brought in the room.

She placed it on my desk and ripped open the top. My nostrils were immediately assaulted with the strong scent of cow hide.

"Absolutely not," I barked, not caring if everyone else in the house heard. I suspected everyone already knew what Olivia was up to anyway and it was just me, as usual, who was clueless.

“Come on! It's your first time really working together as a team and these are totally awesome!”

"No. Since I’m married, this is the first time people from my office haven't speculated on my sexual orientation in decades. What if I see someone from work?" I argued. It was a silly argument but it was the only one I could come up with.

Amelia chose that moment to flash into the room. There was no way she would agree with this, and she was the only one who could stand up to Olivia. God, I loved my wife.

"Amelia, please tell Olivia we do not need her fashion assistance for tonight and that we are perfectly capable of dressing ourselves. Oh, and that we do not need uniforms or costumes or whatever.”

“Are you kidding me?” Olivia asked, with a sharp roll of her eyes. “Did you not name yourself Mr. Wayne… as in Bruce Wayne?”

"Olivia, these are perfect! Just like I described." I watched in horror as Amelia plucked the black leather pants out of the box and held them to my waist. I jumped back as if they were on fire.

“Good grief,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Amelia turned her eyes on me and declared, "You're wearing those."

I opened my mouth to speak but wasn't sure what to even attempt to say. Finally I blurted out, "This was your idea?"

Amelia laughed happily at my discomfort and playfully hit my arm. "Of course. I thought it would be fun. You know, we're like the dynamic duo or something."

This made Olivia smile like a fool, and I stood helplessly as Amelia gave me a quick kiss, and Olivia pulled Amelia out of the room towards the dressing room. I was left with a box of leather and a feeling of dread in my stomach. I picked them up, confused as to how any of this occurred.

They both thought I should wear leather pants and dress up like a caped crusader while on patrol. Clearly, Amelia didn’t grasp the seriousness of my job. I heard a movement on the other side of the door and sighed. "Come in, Elijah."

The smirk on his face caused me to growl, and I flung the offending item at his face. He caught the pants and inhaled deeply. "Smells like justice," he mused, in a full attempt to piss me off.

It was working.

He dropped into the chair across from my desk in his laid-back nature I’d missed over the last several months. He was getting better—back to his old self. I ignored his feet as he propped them on the edge of my desk.

"So," he began, blonde hair dipping in his eyes. "You let her in your house, brought her to your job, married her, and now, you are taking her on patrol."

I was not laughing. I wanted Amelia in my house. I loved her in my house. I had made love to her over every inch of the new house in the last two months. And I needed her at work. She balanced me. And she was smart and kept me on track. Plus, I liked to look at her and be near her every second of the day.

But the patrolling was a different matter. It was dirty and harsh. Humans and vampires alike. I didn't want Amelia to encounter rapists or murderers. I didn't want her to come across spilled blood or crying women. Fighting deranged vampires was one thing—working with humans was something else entirely. She was physically strong enough to work by my side, but I wasn't convinced she was ready emotionally.

"She's stronger than you think," he said and I looked up. Sebastian had said something similar.

I walked to my own dressing room, selecting a t-shirt off the rack and pulled it on with some jeans. I carried my boots back in and sat on the couch behind Elijah and wondered aloud, "Is it so wrong to want to keep her innocent from this?"

Elijah turned in his seat, leaning over the back and said, "No, of course not. But it's too late for that." He picked up the pants. "Can I have these?"

I rolled my eyes and grimaced. "Yes, but never wear them in my presence."

He nodded in agreement and stood, bumping me on the shoulder as he walked towards the door. "Call us if you need anything."

I listened as he called for Olivia and they left out the front door. I wandered the hall until I found her, preening in front of the dressing mirror. "I think you're more excited about this than our first date," I commented, assessing how amazing she looked in the leather that clung to her curves.

She turned and ran her hands over my chest. "I love you in this shirt, although I still can't believe that's Bono. His hair is so…               just weird."

Placing my hands on her hips I frowned. "Leave Bono alone. You weren't even born when I bought this shirt."

She eyed the rest of my outfit, her eyes leveling below my waist and asked bitterly, "Where are your pants?" I gave her a quick kiss and pulled on her ponytail.

"I gave them to Elijah." Her eyebrow quirked in question. “He wanted them. For real.”

"Mmmhmmm. I wanted to see you in leather pants. You would've looked hot." She fake-pouted, poking out her irresistible bottom lip. Possessively, she moved her hands to the waist of my jeans.

I grimaced at the thought but looked her up and down. She looked really, really good in her own leather. "I see your point. Now I'm going to spend half my time looking for bad guys and keeping drunks from coming on to you."

"You can use me for bait," she suggested and I recognized a glint of evil in her eye. I didn't even respond to that one. Talk about baiting.

She clasped my hand in hers, tugging me down the stairs, and we walked towards the door. Amelia beat me, snatching the keys off the hook.