TheSmallPrint (43 page)

“Stand still or I’ll slit her throat,” Gabriel said.

Turner froze.

“Go ahead. You already know she can’t be killed,” Catch said.

“Nice try but she’s changed. I’ve had a taste of her.” Gabriel licked a bead of blood from her cheek. “Delicious.”

Rage swept over Turner and his fists clenched.

“How the fuck did you get here?” Catch asked. “Got a twin brother?”

Turner cringed. Somehow he’d made a mistake.

“Nick was just within reach. I was less helpless than I led you to believe. I must admit, I’ve never drained a body before. But shit, what a rush. Though not for Nick.”

Turner frantically tried to figure out what to do, to work out the consequence of any action.

“What do you want?” Turner croaked out.

Matty’s eyes were wide open, her hands outstretched, clutching the edge of the wall. Her head was tipped back onto Gabriel’s shoulder, the knife keeping her tight against him. Turner and Catch could move fast but not that fast.

“The pages—where are they?” Gabriel asked.

“In the car,” Catch snapped.

Turner’s fingers twitched. There were in his pocket. He watched Matty slowly drawing in her arms and worried she was about to precipitate the situation.

“Go get them and don’t try anything stupid,” Gabriel said.

Catch raced off.

“Don’t move, Matty,” Turner said. “Let her go, she’s done nothing to you.”

“How come she can bleed now?” Gabriel asked. “She smells…have you turned her?”

“I lay back on my body and I woke up,” Matty said. “Only I’m beginning to think this is some horrible nightmare.”

“Hi, Gabriel. Long time no see.”

Turner ran toward Matty as Gabriel spun to look at Catch. Matty grabbed Gabriel’s wrist and thrust the knife away from her throat as Catch wrenched a section of wood from the edge of the rink’s wall.

“Logan?” Gabriel gaped at Catch then glanced at Matty as if he couldn’t figure out where her strength had come from.

Catch had changed his face. The moment of hesitation was all Catch needed. As Turner twisted Matty free, Catch jerked Gabriel round and thrust the jagged length of wood into his heart.

“My alter-ego,” Catch said. “Hello and goodbye.”

Gabriel looked down at the wood sticking out his chest, opened his mouth and crumpled.

“What?” Matty gasped from the safety of Turner’s arms.

“Catch changed his face.”

Catch bent and then stood up. “He’s dead.”

“Dead dead?” Matty asked. “He’s not going to jump up and say you missed?”

“No.”

Catch vaulted over the broken edge of the wall onto the ice. His face morphed from Logan back to Catch as he stood in front of them.

“You okay?” Turner asked.

Catch nodded.

“Wow, that’s fast,” Matty said. “Can I do that?”

“I hope not.”Catch pulled Matty into his arms and kissed her.

“I’m sorry,” Turner blurted. “Oh fuck. How could I have been so stupid?”

Catch yanked his head up and kissed him. “Not your fault. I should have finished him off. I snapped his neck but obviously not hard enough.”

“Can I look at him?” Matty asked.

“Why?” Turner asked.

“Just to be sure he’s gone.”

Turner took her hand and pulled her over to the edge of the ice. Gabriel was in the process of disintegrating. Turner waited for her to freak out.

One glance and Matty spun away. “Right. Get your skates on.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Turner asked.

“I’m not going to let him spoil anything else. I’ve wanted to do this with you since the moment I saw you in the pub.”

“No pressure then,” Turner muttered.

By the time Turner emerged from the hut, Catch and Matty were effortlessly skating around the ice, hand in hand.
Of course they were.
Turner wobbled over to the surrounding wall and waited until they were facing the other way before he ventured out.

His first mistake was pushing himself away from the safety of the edge in the belief speed would keep him stable. The second mistake was moving his feet in different directions. His arms cartwheeled, his legs went from under him, and Turner had a moment to reconcile himself to humiliation before arms swept him up and forward.

Matty held him on one side and Catch the other, and they propelled him around the rink at high speed.

“Move your feet,” Catch said. “Do the same as us.”

“We won’t let you fall,” Matty said.

Once Turner stopped trying to stay upright, everything became easier. He let them take charge, and after a few circuits, he realized they were no longer holding him up but skating with him.

“This is fun,” he said with a smile. “I can do it on my own now.”

Ah, no I can’t.
His backside hit the ice and he groaned. Turner struggled to his feet and Catch swept him to the edge. Pressed up against him, Turner could feel Catch’s erection and his own cock rose in response.

“You have any idea how sexy you are when you’re not in control?” Catch whispered, and nipped his lip.

He pulled Turner off the ice.

“Go and skate with her. I’ll watch,” Turner said.

He smiled as they twisted and circled on the ice. Matty almost bounced with energy. Turner wasn’t sure that was normal after what she’d been through but he felt lucky they still had her.

* * * * *

After Catch left the ice, Matty skated on her own for a while, trying not to think about what had nearly happened. Gabriel was finally dead and that was all that mattered. She skated fast to the edge of the rink, skidded to an abrupt halt and showered Turner and Catch with ice crystals. The air sparkled around them and Matty thought she’d never seen two more gorgeous guys in her life. She hugged them. “Thank you so much for this.”

“Tired?” Catch asked.

“A little,” she muttered.

Turner took off her boots and Catch swept her into his arms. Lights and music off, they made their way to the house.

“Kitchen,” Turner said the moment they went inside.

When he took three bags of Plasmix from the fridge, Matty gulped.

“I might not need it,” she said.

“Better to be safe.” Turner gave them each a bag.

“Does it taste like your… What you gave me before?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” Catch said.

“How am I supposed to drink it? I don’t have sharp teeth.”

“I’ll rip the corner off mine and if you smell it, your fangs might drop,” Turner said.

He handed her the opened bag and Matty sniffed. “Mmm. Smells yummy.” She caught the glance that passed between the guys. “What?”

“Nothing,” Catch said, sank his canines into the bag and sucked hard until it was empty.

“Wow, you don’t believe in savoring your food then?” Matty asked.

“Oh yeah, food that tastes—”

“Catch!” Turner snapped.

Matty ran her tongue over her teeth. Nothing.

“Try it,” Turner said.

She tipped the bag carefully into her mouth.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It had to be the most disgusting thing she’d ever drunk. Deprived of food and drink for seven months and this was what she had to look forward to? But Matty kept drinking and as she noted the looks of astonishment on their faces realized they’d expected her to spit it out.

Matty finished the lot, plastered a smile on her face and said, “That was great. So much better than you two tasted. I’m going to be able to drink this all the time, aren’t I? I won’t need to—drink you.”

“You like Plasmix?” Turner’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

“Mmm.” Matty needed to clean her teeth
now
and she wasn’t sure that would be enough.

“Want another bag?” Catch asked.

“Not right now. I’m full.”

“No, I think you ought to. It’s been a big night.” Catch smiled at her and she glared at him. “She’s telling fibs.”

Turner growled.

“We’ll give you a ten-second start,” Catch said. “If you’re not undressed and in bed by the time we get there, you’ll get spanked. One, two.”

Matty squealed and fled.

By the time they came into the room naked, Matty was in bed with the covers peeled down to reveal her breasts. Turner and Catch stalked toward her like big cats, eyes only for her, one thing on their mind.

“Ten,” Catch said. “I’d forgotten you’re faster now. Damn, I was looking forward to smacking that cute backside.”

Matty lifted her foot from under the covers. One sock remained.

She bounced as they landed on either side of her at the same time.

“You smell of toothpaste,” Turner said. “You
are
fast.”

“Plasmix is horrible,” she wailed. “You both tasted so good. How can you drink that stuff?”

“You get used to it,” Turner said.

Matty glared. “Well, I’m going to invent something else. There must be a way of making it taste better.”

Catch peeled off her sock and licked his way up her leg. “This is how to make it taste better,” he mumbled.

Turner lifted her hand and sucked each of her fingers. “Yep, you’re right,” he said.

They licked her all over. Absolutely all over.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Turner pushed his notes aside and looked at Matty and Catch lying on the couch with their legs entwined. They were playing a fast-moving racing game on the latest model fifty-inch flat-screen TV Catch had insisted he couldn’t live without. Turner’s thirty-two-inch was deemed unacceptable. He’d never forget the way Matty had rolled her eyes as the two of them argued over the size.

“Darn it,” Matty moaned.

She couldn’t keep her car on the track, and Catch whooped as he crossed the line first—again. Turner couldn’t beat her when he played.

Much as he wanted to finish translating the fourth book, time spent with Catch and Matty mattered just as much. More. Turner could hardly believe that was true, but it was. Instead of letting him shut himself away in his study, they’d carried his desk into the drawing room so they could be together when he worked. And while they were sometimes distracting, Turner came to see that as a bonus. Only when he was in the lab did they leave him alone, though Matty had helped him transplant seedlings in the orangery.

George had returned from Chile looking tanned and suspiciously relaxed. He’d bought Turner a small set of drums that had
Made in Jamaica
stamped on the base. Turner thought it unlikely Chile imported them no matter what George said.

“Hey, hey, I can’t do it if you put your hands over my eyes,” Catch yelled.

“You have to have a handicap. It’s not fair.”

Turner smiled. They were like kids. Catch had resigned from the SBI and he, Matty and George were in the process of setting up an organization called New Start to find homes and jobs for abused teenagers, mortal and immortal. Matty’s idea, and the sight of Catch’s incredulous face when she suggested it, told Turner there were secrets still to be told. Matty had an amazing ability to persuade people to do almost anything. She thought she was using vampire thrall, but it was her engaging personality. Turner smiled. He’d do anything for her.

Matty had regained control of her money and re-found her friends. The inhabitants of Milford had been delighted to learn reports of her death were premature. The vicar had praised Matty’s magnanimity in sharing her home with the man who’d unknowingly but illegally bought it. And his friend. Turner suppressed a snigger. An investigation of her accident revealed little in the way of facts, but enough supposition for Turner to conclude her uncle had pushed her in front of an arriving train. That he’d witnessed her “accident” was too much of a coincidence to swallow. Matty couldn’t remember a thing, and according to witnesses the station had been crowded but Turner was biding his time. The hospital wanted her back for tests after her miraculous recovery, but Matty had refused.

She’d come to accept her life as a vampire. Finding out she could still eat had been a significant factor. George happily cooked for three, thrilled he no longer had to eat alone. Matty had Catch’s metabolism and only needed Plasmix when she was over-tired or stressed. Or when they’d exhausted her with sex.

“It’s no fun playing with you,” Matty said. “Turner? I want to whoop your ass. Have you finished working?”

“Nearly.”

Unfortunately, she hadn’t taken on Catch’s tolerance to light, and like Turner could barely keep her eyes open once the sun rose. But he hoped that would change. His fingers strayed to the last book and he laid his palm over it. Matty had no idea how important she was and Turner wasn’t sure how to tell her.

“Turner.” He loved the way she said his name.

Those names on the brown paper wrapped around the book traced her ancestry back to the vampires who landed on Earth. Turner had been
made
immortal and was therefore only as pure as his sire, while Matty had direct links to the original vampires going back for millennia. They still had no idea who Stefan was, but Turner suspected he might be her uncle or even a long-lost brother.

“Turner?”

This final book, called
Deliverance
, described the plant they managed to cultivate on Earth using the large stone mineral transported with them. The book also detailed the consequences of consuming too much. The plant made vampires light-tolerant but changed their nature, rotted their fangs and removed their need for blood. They lost their immortality but retained a powerful resistance to disease and to aging. In other words, they became a little more and a little less than human.

“Turner!”

Matty’s grandfather hadn’t started life as a Hobsbawn. His surname had been Nerian. The word meant guardian or protector in Old English. Her family had become sentinels of their race, the original doggens or vampire servants and yet far more than that. Not only had they looked after those who hadn’t eaten the plant but they’d protected the books and the mineral. Perhaps they’d been forced to sacrifice three books to keep the last safe until the time was right for the truth to be revealed? Turner wasn’t sure that time was now. Though was it his decision to make? Should he take this to the Council? Golding had called to tell them Feynman was dead. Turner hoped no others waited to step into his shoes.