Haunted by the King of Death (10 page)

He smiled slowly.

What was Kincaid’s pup doing here?

Kyal growled over his shoulder as the female shoved him in it, causing him to stumble and have to grab the railing to stop himself from falling down the steps. His bright blue eyes flickered gold as he flashed fangs at her and then he lowered his head, his expression gaining an air of regret, and turned away. He tunnelled his fingers through his rich brown hair, clutched it and looked as if he was on the verge of doing something amusingly stupid.

Like attempting to calm the angry bitch at his back.

Was he the father of the boy she held so close to her that his black clothing blended into hers?

Did Kincaid know his son had sired offspring?

Grave’s grin widened.

Gods, he could imagine the coronary the old werewolf warrior would have if he discovered that. It would be beautiful. Grave would pay to watch him rip into his heir. Every account he had uncovered pointed to Kyal leading a sheltered life, shut inside Kincaid’s estate in Scotland, but the dog had clearly disobeyed at some point and slipped the leash.

Kyal reached the bottom step and turned to face the female, and her hazel eyes narrowed on him in a way that warned him not to speak. Whatever he had done, it looked as if he was going to be paying for it for a long time to come.

The werewolf male shoved his fingers through his hair again, causing the golden streaks in it to catch the light and shine brighter, and huffed, his shoulders shifting beneath his khaki t-shirt.

“Just go,” the female snapped and Antoine and Snow were on the move, heading towards Kyal.

It seemed the pup was about to be shown the door.

Kyal opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head, her ponytail swaying across the shoulders of her black long-sleeved top. He closed his mouth, cast her a pained look and then shut his eyes, lowering his head at the same time. When he turned away from her, Snow and Antoine halted a short distance away, both males watching the werewolf closely.

The female pursued him a few steps.

Grave frowned as a scent hit him. The boy in her arms.

He was a vampire.

A second male hurried down the steps behind the female, one with wild short black hair and green eyes that matched the infant the werewolf held. A vampire too. He carried a second child wearing a pink dress.

Grave pulled down a deep breath to catch her scent and wasn’t surprised when she smelled like a dog.

A vampire and a werewolf had produced offspring? What the hell were his cousins up to in this theatre, besides attempting to destroy their family name by harbouring such people?

Kyal proved himself to be an idiot after all.

He turned back towards the female and tried to close the distance between them, but Snow’s hand came down hard on the scruff of his neck and stopped him in his tracks.

“Leave quietly, Kid,” Snow growled in his ear and Kyal looked up at him, and disappointment went through Grave when he saw that the werewolf had some sense after all.

He had hoped the pup would do the opposite and give his cousin a reason to kick him out.

“Protect the babies.” Kyal turned back to the female. “No one can know about them. I won’t tell anyone about you, but you have to be on your guard, Kristina. I’ll return if it becomes dangerous for you.”

The black-haired vampire now standing behind the female Kristina bared his fangs on a growl.

“It’s okay,” she said without taking her gaze off Kyal, her voice as cold as her flinty hazel eyes. “The werewolf is leaving.”

Kyal shirked Snow’s grip and turned away, and paused as he came face to face with Grave. He stood there a moment, blue eyes impossibly wide, filled with recognition and shock, and then they narrowed and he flashed fangs at Grave and stalked off.

Grave watched him go, curious about why the male had come to the theatre and what trouble he expected to come for the one called Kristina. The babies weren’t Kyal’s, so why did he feel a need to protect them?

“Kristina,” the black-haired vampire called and air swirled in the room as Snow and Antoine suddenly moved, and Grave whipped back to face them.

Snow caught the female werewolf before she could hit the floor and Antoine carefully took the boy from her as Snow eased her down onto her knees. The boy reached for her but Antoine bounced him in his arms, cradling him gently as he talked nonsense to him.

Aurora took the baby girl from the black-haired vampire and he went to Kristina, kneeled beside her and gathered her into his arms, littering kisses across her brow as he stroked her dark brown hair, smoothing it.

“I’m fine,” she muttered and pushed at the vampire, and he huffed and eased back, and then helped her onto her feet.

She protested but he held her as she dusted down her dark jeans with trembling fingers. Grave arched an eyebrow. Females. Always saying they were fine when they were far from it.

If females were a little more honest, perhaps the world would be a better place.

One where his heart was still in one piece.

“Who was that?” Snow said.

Before Grave could say the werewolf was the son of the warrior Kincaid, Kristina stared up at Snow with shock written on every line of her face and spoke, silencing Grave and the entire room.

“My brother.”

It wasn’t possible. Kincaid only had one child. If he had more, Grave would know of it. He had enough spies keeping an eye on the werewolf leaders, tracking their movements, to be well informed of their personal lives.

“You’re an only child,” Snow whispered and the female looked unsure.

Antoine flicked a glance at Grave, and then at Sable and Thorne, and Grave knew what was coming. This was family business, and Antoine was still intent on treating him like a stranger, shutting him out.

Would he shut Snow out if he knew the truth?

Grave doubted it.

“I’ll take Kristina to our room so she can rest.” The black-haired vampire took hold of her arm and led her towards the stairs. She wobbled with each step and when they reached the staircase, the male scooped her up into his arms. She pushed against him and he sighed. “You always have to fight me. For once, just rely on my strength.”

She looked up at him, hazel eyes bright with unshed tears, dark eyebrows furrowed high on her forehead, and then buried her face against his neck and gave a subtle nod of her head. The vampire brushed his lips across her hair and carried her up the stairs. Aurora and Antoine followed, carrying the two children.

Grave tracked them, curious about Kyal and his relationship with the female, until he felt someone’s eyes boring into him. He slid Sable a bored look. She could glare stakes at him all she wanted, he wasn’t going to rise to whatever bait she intended to throw at him.

He turned away from the huntress and found Snow watching him again. His cousin stared at him in silence for so long that he began to feel uncomfortable and was actually glad when Antoine returned.

“Is he still here?” Antoine looked from him to Snow and crossed his arms, causing his dove grey shirt to tighten across his shoulders and chest. “I thought I made it clear we would deal with the demon if he tried anything.”

“Tried anything? He has threatened your family. He knows of your mates,” Grave snapped and took a sharp step towards his cousins. “He named them and all of my family too. He means to kill us all and you talk as if your pathetic friends you treat more like your family than your own damned flesh and blood are strong enough to defeat him.”

Snow bared emerging fangs. “They are our family.”

“And I am not… Night and Bastian are not?” Grave stalked another step forwards and flashed his own fangs at his cousin.

“You are right,” Antoine said and Grave shifted his gaze to him. The bastard smiled coldly. “Night and Bastian are our family. We should warn them.”

Before he could pick one from the hundred retorts spinning around his mind, Antoine turned away from him.

Snow moved to do the same.

Grave lunged for him and froze when his left hand went straight through Snow’s forearm.

Snow stared wide-eyed down at his arm and then up into Grave’s eyes. Blinked. Grave didn’t dare move or speak. If he pretended that hadn’t happened, his cousin might think he had imagined it.

“I will help.”

Those three words falling from Snow’s lips felt as if they had sealed Grave’s fate and in the short span of time it took for Antoine to turn back towards his brother, an incredulous look on his face, Snow had grabbed Grave by his arm and was dragging him towards a door in the wall that had been behind him.

Snow shoved the wooden door open and pushed him inside what looked like an office. The second Antoine appeared, blocking the doorway, Snow’s hand closed around Grave’s throat and he grunted as the cream wall of the office slammed against his back. Snow’s face filled his field of vision.

“What’s wrong?” Antoine quickly shut the door.

“Grave is holding out and not telling us everything.” The pressure of Snow’s grip increased and Grave had trouble breathing as he stared into his cousin’s ice blue eyes.

“The two problems are not related,” he wheezed.

“I don’t give a fuck if they’re related,” Snow barked. “What happened to you?”

The look in Snow’s eyes and the force and heat behind his growled words stole Grave’s voice. He could almost fool himself into believing his cousin actually cared about him.

He placed his hand over Snow’s on his throat, touching him this time, and pulled it away from him. His feet hit the floor again and he busied himself with straightening out his shirt, tugging the cuffs down to his wrists and shutting out the looks both of his cousins were giving him now. He didn’t need their pity, not when they didn’t really give a damn about him and had been willing to let him face a demon alone just a few seconds ago.

“It is my problem. Not yours. You made it perfectly clear that I am not considered a member of this family. It was a mistake to come here. I will deal with the demon and this alone.” He pivoted on his heel but Snow stepped into his path, blocking his way to the door.

Antoine closed in too. “Dealing with what exactly?”

Snow talked over his brother. “Is this what happened to change you?”

Grave hated that soft look in Snow’s eyes. It made his skin crawl and made him itch with a need to escape, to be alone again, free of scrutiny and vampires who poked their nose into his private business. He should have known better than to attempt to touch his cousin, but it had been a knee-jerk reaction, one he hadn’t been able to contain, and now Snow had latched onto it and he wasn’t going to let it go easily. Snow never had been well versed in personal boundaries. When they had served together, his cousin had been constantly meddling in his private affairs, winkling answers out of the other vampires or anyone else involved if Grave refused to tell him.

“Back off and let it go, Cousin. I have it under control and that is all you need to know.” Grave tried to step around him.

Snow’s palm slammed into his chest, knocking him back against a mahogany side cupboard. His backside hit it and he scowled at Snow as he pushed onto his feet.

“Bloodlust?” Antoine frowned at him, his pale blue eyes showing a flicker of concern too now.

Great. Now both of them were at it. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He had come here to warn them and he had. He didn’t need to stick around and suffer an inquisition into his private life.

He had a demon to hunt.

“No. Something worse,” Snow snapped, deep voice loud in the small office, and leaned his back against the door. If Grave had to forcibly remove him from it so he could leave, he would, and his cousin should know as much. He took a step towards him, but Snow spoke again, stopping him cold. “How bad is it? Do Night and Bastian know?”

The blood in his veins froze at the thought of Snow telling them and he could only stare at his cousin, fighting to find his voice and lie to him by saying that he had told them about his problem in order to stop Snow from informing them.

Snow threw his hands up in the air. “How can you not tell them? They’re your brothers.”

He didn’t have a good answer to that question. There were countless reasons he was keeping his situation private, but only one that Snow would understand.

“I did not wish to worry them. I will fix it.”

A vein in Antoine’s temple throbbed. “Fix fucking what?”

Snow looked down at him. “Grave’s hand went straight through me.”

“What?” Antoine’s blue eyes widened.

“It is not a problem.” Grave looked away from his cousins and curled his lip at the oil paintings hanging on the walls, depictions of colourful sunsets and landscapes. What sort of vampire decorated their office with such scenes? Daylight was hardly something a vampire should enjoy looking at. It was synonymous with death after all. “I am dealing with it. Let it go.”

Snow grabbed him again and slammed him back against the wall near the door. “No. Tell me what happened. Is it a witch’s curse? We have a witch. She might be able to fix it.”

Grave closed his eyes.

Snow was a rabid dog with a bone and he wasn’t going to let it go.

The bastard had had a thing about family since killing most of their one, an obsession with protecting them that didn’t quite mesh with Antoine’s since it turned out Snow still included Grave in the circle of people he considered family.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked into Snow’s, catching the pain that danced in them, the desperate need that a part of Grave was familiar with and understood.

Snow needed to repent, and now he was turning Grave’s sins into his own.

He sighed and another war ignited inside him, a battle between doing what his pathetic heart desired and shoving his cousin away, keeping him at a distance.

The weak part of himself won.

“A woman tricked me.”

I
t wasn’t the whole truth, but it was as close as Grave could come right now to confessing what had happened to him and hopefully it would be enough for his cousin.

“I will deal with her and what she did after I deal with the demon.”