Sweet Destiny (The Jessica Sweet Trilogy Book 3) Page 8

  Merlin approached the desk and plopped his laptop in front of Mason, pointing at the screen. “Another missive from the Primeval. They want to know what you’re doing about the situation. In their words, ‘A blatant dismissal of Primeval Law Number One must be answered for, especially when committed by a Legion Warrior.’”

  “I know,” Mason said, leaning back in his chair and tapping a finger on the arm as Merlin remained standing before him.

  “The Primeval won’t wait forever,” Merlin added.

  Mason sighed. “No, they won’t. Let’s get through this shit with the Clowder first, though. I’ll deal with the Primeval when that’s done.

  “May I ask a question, sir?” Merlin was rarely so formal, so he had Mason’s attention.

  “Of course.”

  “Why are we protecting Raven? Not from the Clowder’s ritual, I get that, but why have you not put him to trial?”

  When Mason didn’t answer, Merlin added, “No disrespect, sir, I like Raven well enough, but we can’t deny how dangerous he’s become since the curse was broken. Why not just wash our hands of him? He’s given every cause.”

  Mason leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. Were all the Warriors thinking this way? The Soldiers? It wasn’t that he didn’t get it. You kill, you die—Primeval Law Number One.

  But they were talking about a Warrior with over five hundred years of service to the Legion. Would it be so easy for them to turn their backs on one of their own? Merlin had been with Mason from the beginning. Surely, he understood.

  “Let me answer your question with one of my own. What if it were you, Merlin?”

  “Sir?”

  “What if something happened to you so horrific, something that enraged you to such an extent that you couldn’t control yourself. In a moment of blind rage, of desperate passion, you did something you truly regretted? Something you couldn’t take back?

  Merlin looked at him like he was speaking Swahili.

  “Imagination, Warrior. You have one, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Use it. Then tell me, would you want me to turn my back on you? Feed you to the Primeval to make an example, then wash my hands of you after all the years you’ve given to the Legion? To me?

  Mason could tell by the Warrior’s blank face that he was struggling with the imagination part. Mason got it, though. Merlin was one of the most placid Vampires he’d ever met. If it weren’t for his tactical abilities, and more recently, his tech skills, the male never would have made it to Warrior.

  Even so, after a moment Merlin nodded. “I see your point, sir. But I had to ask.”

  “For the others?”

  Merlin’s silence was answer enough.

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Mason said, dropping the subject as Merlin collected his laptop and made for the exit. “And Merlin?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Cut out that ‘sir’ shit, would you?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, not quite hiding his smile as he shut the door behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  H arrier kicked his way through the snow covering Jessica’s sidewalk and made for the Hummer. It was nice spending time with his niece and her friends, even if she hadn’t been willing to listen to reason when it came to Raven.

  The male was in trouble. If he didn’t come to terms with shit soon, he was going to end up doing serious harm to people that he would actually regret. Jessica was the only person he might listen to. The problem would be getting them to stay in the same room long enough without someone getting hurt. Harrier’s money was on Jessica drawing first blood, and he’d get good odds on that. But then most didn’t know his niece.

  Thinking about Jessica kicking Raven’s ass had Harrier chuckling as he reached the Hummer. A sound near the barn had him switching to ready mode in an eye blink. Careful not to alert whoever, or whatever, was there, Harrier checked himself and opened the door. Pausing long enough to test the air, Harrier caught the scent of the predator lurking in the shadows.

  Feline, and female.

  It was a scent vaguely familiar to him, though in the moment not one he could place. The memory of it tickled the back of his mind, but he remained focused on the situation at hand.

  Having insisted that Jessica lock up while he waited outside, he wasn’t concerned for her safety so much as irritated that the cats were watching her again. Before, it was at the behest of the Wolves, which, knowing what they knew now, was forgivable. This time, though, they were here of their own accord, looking for Raven, no doubt. They were crazy if they thought they would catch up with him here, though.

  Pretending to leave, Harrier drove down the road a piece and pulled off into an abandoned driveway. He then ran back to Jessica’s as quickly and quietly as possible. The whole process took less than a minute, and the perpetrator was just leaving the barn’s shadow when he arrived.

  It was, indeed, a woman, and upon seeing her the puzzle pieces fell into place. She had been with the Clowder when they came to retrieve Malcolm’s body on Thanksgiving. Jessica had nearly clawed her eyes out when the woman ran toward the slain cat, but to Harrier she’d been little more than a presence. And apparently a scent.

  Tonight, though, she had his attention, and not only because she was pulling a large sweatshirt over her head to cover her naked ass.

  Harrier watched as she yanked a shock of long, dark hair from out of the neck of the sweatshirt, which was so large on her it hung about mid-thigh. She was a tiny girl, no more than five foot two, but she held herself with an air of confidence he normally saw in males much larger than her.

  She tugged on the hem of the fleece to ensure her ass was indeed covered, then started toward the house, her bare feet kicking white puffs of snow ahead of her.

  Showtime was over.

  He crept behind her and was at her back in a few steps. When the girl reached for the door, he whispered, “I’d not be going any further if I were you.”

  Had it been in his nature, Harrier would have died laughing at the way the girl jumped. Like the cat she was, she twisted around with her wee claws in the air, then jumped back when she caught sight of him.

  She was quick to recover, though, and Harrier gave her credit for that, though if she didn’t quiet down some, he’d have to drag her off somewhere.

  “What the hell!” she screech-whispered. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  Harrier held a finger to her lips, telling her to pipe down, but she seemed less concerned about the noise she was making and more concerned with the giant Vampire standing before her.

  “I thought you left,” she huffed, regaining some composure.

  “And I thought the cats had stopped spying on Jessica, here.”

  “I wasn’t spying,” she growled. She was a spitfire, this one, and a memory stirred within Harrier, distant and obscure.

  “Well, you were lurking, and to my way of thinking, it’s one in the same. You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  “No.”

  “Let me rephrase. Come with me, little cat, and ask me the questions you’re wanting to ask the girl. If I can’t give you the answers you want, then we’ll call Jessica to set up an appropriate time for you to chat with her. No need to be sneaking up on her in the middle of the night like some kind of crazed stalker.”

  “You’re the crazy one, if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” she spat.

  “Aye, it may be true, but I’m not the kind of crazy you want to be testing. Either you’ll be leaving here with me nice and quiet and friendly, or we’ll do things the hard way. I’ve had a bit of a pleasant evening, so I’d much rather we not have to go there, if it’s all the same to you.”

  The girl seemed to think on it as she searched the shadows, apparently for options. Harrier knew they were alone, and her choices were limited. She must have come to the same conclusion. She squared her shoulders and folded her arms across her chest, raising the sweatshirt enough for Har
rier to get a glimpse of some pretty impressive hip.

  “Fine,” she said at last, diverting Harrier’s gaze back to her lips, which had the same effect on him as that bare hip had done. “I’ll go, but I’ve got my thumb on my phone, ready to dial the Clowder. If anything happens to me, they will hunt you down. I swear it.”

  Harrier returned her fierce glare with the closest thing to sincerity he could muster, considering how hard he was struggling not to laugh. He knew very well she didn’t have a phone, or any place to hide it, and damn Jessica and Rachel for bringing humor into his life. That thought had him scowling, so he schooled his face and tried not to growl.

  “On my honor as a Warrior, nothing untoward will happen to you while you are in my care.”

  She studied him for a long moment, then huffed out a breath that left an icy fog in the air. With a passing snarl, she marched by him and back down the sidewalk, hips swinging as those bare feet of hers scattered icy snow around her ankles. Harrier caught himself enjoying that little display a bit too much, shook his head, then hurried to catch up.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  W hen they reached the Hummer, Harrier unlocked it and opened the passenger door, motioning for her to climb in. He then walked to the back of the vehicle and lifted the rear hatch to dig through his go bag.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice cracked, but Harrier pretended not to notice.

  “Getting some things out of my bag.” He could hear the hard swallow as she turned to face front, her false bravery another source of annoying amusement.

  Finding what he was looking for, he returned to the driver’s seat and gave the girl a toothy smile. She shrunk back against the door, but, to her credit, she didn’t try to run.

  “Here,” he said, tossing her the items he’d retrieved. She scrambled to catch what he’d thrown, then held them up in both hands.

  “What’s this?” she asked, her wary brows drawn in a sharp V.

  “Clothes,” Harrier said as he started the vehicle. A quick flick of the controls had the heater running full blast, the air aimed at the floor to warm the girl’s feet.

  She held the sweat pants in front of her and laughed, a musical sound that yanked at Harrier’s memory again. “I’ll swim in these,” she said, and Harrier shrugged.

  “You’ll also be warm.” He threw the Hummer in gear, and pulled onto Reserve Road, where they headed west.

  “And these?” she asked with a wry twist to her lips as she held out a pair of his socks. “What am I supposed to do with these? You already gave me sweats that will cover me from head to toe, but you thought I’d need leg warmers as well? Sorry, that’s too Seventies for me.” She was laughing at him now, and that was just irritating.

  “Forget it,” he said, grabbing both socks and sweats from her hands and throwing them in the back. “Freeze your ass off. See if I care.”

  “Hey!” she said, “I was just kidding. Now where’d they go?” She leaned over the seat and reached into the back to retrieve the clothes. This left Harrier with a prime view of her frozen ass as her sweatshirt crept up to her waist.

  Trying very hard not to drive the Hummer into a ditch, Harrier averted his eyes and hit the blinker to signal a right turn, steering them toward town.

  The girl plopped back into the passenger seat and pulled the socks up over her knees. She then wriggled her way into Harrier’s sweats, which stretched to her nose when she pulled them all the way up. She looked absolutely ridiculous but for reasons he couldn’t fathom, it pleased Harrier to know she’d be protected from the cold.

  This was an emotion he didn’t care to explore at the moment, as it was almost as disturbing as his true motive for seeing her dressed. He’d found all of that exposed skin…distracting. Now that she was covered, he could focus on the real reason they were here. Together. In his vehicle.

  Shit.

  “You got a name?”

  “Yep,” she said. “Do you?”

  Harrier narrowed his eyes and looked at her sideways. She folded her arms across her chest and puffed out a breath.

  “Fine,” she said. “My name is Kythryn.”

  “Do people call you Kitty?”

  “Not if they want to live,” she said, knifing him with that glare she had.

  “Well, then, Kitty,” he said, ignoring her flustered growl, “why don’t you tell me why you were spying on my friend.”

  “You don’t strike me as the friendly type,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “In fact, I’d say you’re more the opposite.”

  “Yeah, well, you’d be surprised,” Harrier said as he hung a left onto Route 4. “I know I was.”

  Chapter Thirty

  B y the time everyone left, I was feeling so much better. My house looked like the holiday display at Macy’s, as Piper and Alex refused to leave a single ornament or decoration in the box.

  My tree was an eclectic mess. It had everything from simple glass bulbs, to fancy animated Hallmark ornaments, to elementary school art projects from when I was a little kid.

  We erected a similar but smaller tree in the dining room with classic multi-colored blinking lights, and a pretty angel on top. Every year my mother had related the story of how she and Dad had purchased the tree topper at Harrods on a trip to London, long before I came into the picture. It had become something of a tradition, like our version of The Night Before Christmas. I’d recited the tale in my head as I placed the delicate piece atop the little tree. Her halo was crooked and there was a hole in the thin mesh of her wing, but in her place of honor, she was as beautiful as ever.

  Thick strands of garland lined the fireplace mantel and twinkled with white-bright lights as my three stockings hung proudly from pewter holders.

  It was a veritable Christmas wonderland, and it was just what I needed.

  Though it was late, I was too wound up to go to bed. Instead, I turned off all the lights except for the Christmas tree in the living room and I sat on the floor watching the colors change.

  At one point, I thought I heard a noise outside, but when it didn’t recur, I put it down to one of the cats and went on with my meditation.

  Harrier had been sweet, trying to get me to talk to Raven, even though he hated the guy. I got that Raven was suffering, we both were, but I was dealing with it. He needed to do the same.

  It wasn’t my fault his defense mechanisms tended toward violent. And why would I risk myself or my baby by putting us in front of the Vampire who had vowed to kill me? I was depressed, not suicidal.

  You could always call him, that stupid voice in my head pointed out.

  I considered it. What was the worst that could happen? He would hang up on me? Not answer at all? And then, what was I out but a couple of seconds’ time, and—if I were completely honest with myself—perhaps a bit of disappointment.

  I dug my phone out of a pocket, entered the code, and pulled up my contacts list. Raven was no long on the “recent” page, and that made me a little bit sad and a whole lot hesitant.

  I almost thumbed it off again but scolded myself for being a coward. Then, before I could change my mind, I scrolled through the list and touched the number underneath his picture.

  My heart skipped a beat when the first ring sounded and was pounding by the second. I was about to hang up when a gruff and oh-so-familiar voice said, “Raven.”

  My mouth was so dry, I couldn’t get any words out.

  “Who’s there?” he said. He’d obviously not checked his caller ID before answering, or maybe he’d deleted me from his phone altogether. I reached deep inside and somehow managed to dig up some courage.

  “It’s me, Raven.” Now it was his turn to be quiet. The silence went on for so long I thought the call had dropped. “Raven?”

  “What do you want?” He couldn’t even say my name.

  “I…” what did I want? Why was I even doing this, other than because my uncle said I should? “I just wanted to see if you were okay.” God, that was lame.

  “Are you f
ucking serious?”

  “I…”

  “You broke my heart, Jessica. You destroyed the curse, freed my beast, then obliterated me. It’s all back now, the desire to annihilate anyone or anything that crosses my path. The beast is alive and well, and could take over at any fucking time, so no. I’m not fucking okay!”

  He continued yelling through the phone. In my mind I could see the amethyst sparks that were probably flying, those lethal fangs lengthening as his ire rose. I was so thankful for the miles separating us.

  “This is your fault, Jessica. All of it, including your lover’s death, it’s your doing. You freed me to be who and what I was born to be. All of this is on you.”

  I was shaking so bad I dropped the phone, and I could barely see through my tears to pick it up and hit “end call.” Raven was still raging when the phone went dead, but I’d heard all I needed to hear.

  I should have listened to my gut rather than let Harrier guilt me into that call. I knew better, but for my uncle to be concerned about his sworn enemy, well, it had moved me. I’m stupid sentimental that way, or maybe it was hormones. Either way, I would learn to get over it.

  Wrapping my arms protectively around my belly, I curled up under my pretty Christmas tree and tried hard not to believe the ugliness Raven had been spouting. It didn’t help that he was saying the same things I’d told myself in the wee hours of the night when there was no one around to talk me down.

  Who could have predicted that in such a short period of time my life would become this giant bowl of misery?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  K ythryn studied the Vampire behind the wheel. For all intents and purposes, he had kidnapped her, and her damned feline curiosity had her scowling. Everything he did was a contradiction, like his fumbled attempts at keeping her warm. Why, when it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to drag her to an interrogation room and maybe give water boarding a try?

  “You hungry?” he asked, tripping her up yet again.