Immortal Distraction (25 page)

She rose to her tiptoes again, spread her legs, and bent her knees to give him the room he needed to thrust up and into her channel from underneath. He drove one pounding thrust after another, and she reached back to steady herself with an arm to his lower back as she was overcome by an orgasm that left her groaning and her stomach muscles clenching under his palm. It was only moments after that he found his own long-overdue release and growled out his orgasm against the nape of her neck.

He collapsed back into the chair behind him, pulling her body with him. She curled up on his lap again as their cum dripped from her pussy to his legs. And he gently stroked her nipple and waited for his body to calm and relax again, and when it did, he spoke against her ear, “You are absolutely incredible.”

He took her to bed after that, and she fell back to sleep quickly as he watched her chest slowly rise and fall. As he watched her, he felt her pains and her sorrows. He understood her and who she was. And he loved her despite all of it and perhaps a bit more because of it. He was in love with her. And Truman was right; he was fucked.

Chapter 21

When she woke to her cell phone ringing two nights later, he reached over and stroked her arm as she roused. She snatched up the phone from the nightstand and answered on the fourth ring. He was beside her with his laptop on his lap, and as dispatch gave her an address, her heart sank. Another victim. She’d gotten a bit of a reprieve lately, and now, that was over. She and Humphreys were being called to nearly the same intersection in Chinatown where she’d found her mother the week before, and as she jotted down the details, Angus watched her.

He regarded her seriously, and his jaw was clenched. She knew it was just as likely he was nervous for her to go at night as anything, but she also knew he could hear every word being spoken from dispatch. Uniforms had only just arrived after a tip being called in from a nearby payphone, and nothing was yet known except the victim had been torn to shreds again.

“Chinatown, huh?”

She nodded as she stood naked, searching for the jeans and sweater he’d stripped from her body hours earlier. He watched her move around the room, and before she was out the door, he pulled her down beside him, kissed her quickly, and then gently asked that she be careful as his lips brushed the lobe of her ear. As she was leaving, she heard him call the front desk and ask that her car be brought around, and she smiled to herself. He could be demanding, cool, and controlled to the point of infuriating her, but he was thoughtful, and it was an easy thoughtfulness that left her feeling it was simply an extension of his feelings for her and nothing more—whatever those feelings might be. But his kindness to her was certainly not something contrived.

She climbed into her still-cold car, and spent the drive zoning out. She wasn’t ready for this. It was bursting the fairly romantic and sweet reprieve she’d been given lately, and she wasn’t ready to see that tainted yet. And so she refused to go to that emotional plane just yet—that emotional plane that was riddled with dead bodies and dead-end leads. She thought about him instead and just how curious her life had become with him in it. She barely recognized herself anymore.

Brit had tried to see her mother the day before but was told she couldn’t have visitors for the first two weeks. She’d left the facility furious, and as she sat in her car in the parking lot, she started to cry. Brit had never cried so much in her entire life as she had over the past month. She was suddenly far more emotional than she’d allowed herself to be for longer than she could recall, and she suspected a certain immortal vampire might have something to do with it.

Crying no longer made her shudder in humiliation and vulnerability. He’d seen her tears, and he hadn’t pushed her away for it. In fact, he’d made her feel okay about all of it. Strange someone so nonhuman could make her feel so very human and content about it as well. Everything about him was so different, and yet, so perfect for her.

The streets ticked by as she drove, and she still refused to consider what she was about to see. She wanted to be back in bed with him. She missed the warmth of being near him. His skin may be cool, but he radiated a warmth that her life lacked. She certainly wouldn’t be getting any of it from Humphreys once she was on scene, and so she craved it now.

She pulled up to the curb on the same street she’d been on the week prior and saw the very alley she’d left her mother in was cordoned off. For a moment it seemed a bit too coincidental, but then she dismissed it. It was Chinatown after all, and there weren’t many blocks that didn’t see their fair share of crime. Humphreys was just pulling up behind her, and as they stepped out of their cars together, he harrumphed at her. It was his way of saying hi and fuck you all at the same time.

She almost smiled at his sour mood, but as she took a step and slipped on a piece of ice, he grabbed her arm quickly and pulled her upright. He loved her on some ninety degrees from normal plane that he functioned on, and as he let go of her arm as she found her feet, she chuckled. He harrumphed again. “What the fuck’s got into you?” His voice was gruff, and she laughed quietly as they began the short trek to the alley.

The marked cars had created a sort of perimeter at the entrance to the alley, but it hadn’t stopped a few gawkers from converging on the space just beyond the police cars. Fortunately there weren’t many. Too cold and too late … or was it too early? “Miss … miss, this way please.” The uniform man was ushering to her.

When she reached him, she stopped cold in her tracks. She turned to him, ready to lash out, but then she lost her edge. It just dissipated. Instead she shook her head, and Humphreys glared at her impatiently, waiting for her to either have a Brit moment or get on with it.

When she kept walking, Humphreys stared at her with a stunned expression, and as he lifted the crime scene tape and handed her a pair of gloves, he commented, “That was weird.” They started making their way back to the spot behind the Dumpster where the body lay.

Just another day in paradise.

* * * *

Five minutes after she left, his cell phone rang. It was Ember. “What’s up, buttercup? Did you call to hit on me, ’cause I have a girlfriend, and she could kick your ass?”

She chuckled in response. “Very funny. You’re such a dirty old vampire.” Now he chuckled. “Speaking of Brit, is she with you?”

“No, why?”

“It’s her mother. She’s missing from the treatment facility. I know one of the counselors there, and when I called to check on her, they said she was gone. She was there at lights out three hours ago, and now her bed’s empty.” Angus’ blood suddenly ran frigid cold, and his heart jumped into his throat, choking him for a moment. It could be nothing.

But it could be something.

“Em, I gotta let you go.” He hung up, dialing Jonathan as he rose. “Bring my car around as quick as possible.”

When he made it downstairs less than a minute later, Jonathan was just walking inside. “How long ago did Brit leave?”

“Not long. Few minutes before you called me.”

He hopped in his car, speeding away from the curb the moment his door closed. He wove in and out of traffic, knowing damn well he was running the risk of getting pulled over. But Brit had a lead foot, and if he had any of hope of gaining on her, it wasn’t a choice. His heart was pounding loudly, and he could feel the erratic beat pulsing in his ears. He was near panic, and his body might explode from the tension before he made it to her.

Chinatown. Chinatown was just too coincidental.

The same damn block they’d been on the week before. It was a random coincidence when he’d heard the dispatcher on the phone relay the address to Brit in their bedroom. Now, it was far more than just random coincidence.

But he could still be wrong. He had to be wrong.

He blew through a stoplight as cars careened through the intersection a mere fraction of a second after he sped past. Their horns blared after him, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He just had to get to her. He had to be there. He couldn’t let her endure this alone if he was right—if it was more than coincidence.

When he slammed on his breaks rather than plowing through a beat up old minivan as he neared Chinatown, he cursed loudly to no one, except perhaps the driver of the minivan that glared at him as he passed. The moment he’d passed, Angus put his foot to the floor and screeched down the street. He was close, so close to her now, and he was afraid. He was afraid for her, and he was dreading the scene. He was dreading what it would do to her.

It had to be nothing. It
had
to be coincidence.

When he turned down the street, he saw the cars, so many of them pulled to close off the alley. Brit’s car was parked across the street and a few hundred feet down the block. But the street was deserted. A small crowd had gathered behind the police cars. There were hands covering mouths to stifle their fear, there were excited, wide eyes from many who just couldn’t bring themselves to look away, and more than a few simply stood in a stupor, not sure what to make of any of it.

He was prickling with terror as he slammed his car into park and yanked his keys from the ignition.

It
had
to be nothing.

He silently prayed the world wouldn’t do this to the woman he loved as he reached for the handle.

That hope was dashed the moment he opened the door and heard her cries.

* * * *

She rounded the end of the Dumpster as she pulled her gloves on. She held her breath. She always held her breath when she viewed a victim for the first time. She never knew what she’d be confronted with or how much restraint it would take to maintain control, so she went into it this way every time.

Her focus lit on the feet first. They were unshod and looked dirty but delicate and female. Blood had soaked the jeans, and the saturation became heavier the further up the body her focus moved. And then the blood took over the scene, soaking every patch of fabric visible. The kill was fresh; there was little doubt. The blood was still wet and smelled of metal, as though she had the taste of a penny stuck in her nose, and when her eyes lit on the neck, it was gaping wide and destroyed. Frizzy, unkempt hair was stuck and matted into the torn flesh. Brit clenched her jaw tight as she moved finally up to the face.

And then her world stopped, and she crumbled to the ground on her hands and knees.

She heard a wail unlike anything she’d heard before, and it took a few moments to realize it was coming from her. She was staring at a face she knew so well. The eyes were open and startled, still glistening in their moisture. Tears were streaked down the cheeks and the mouth hung open.

Brit was sobbing, and though she knew it was her voice, she didn’t recognize it. Her hands were clutching at the snow under her palms, and the moment she moved toward her mother’s dead body, scampering in panic to reach her, a heavy, broad arm captured her around the waste, pulling her back.

“Move that perimeter back now! And get those fucking people out of here!” Humphreys bellowed out as he dragged her back away from her mother. She fought, kicking to get away from him, and he lifted her easily from the ground. His arms were wrapped tight around her body. “She’s gone, Brit. She’s gone.”

*

He didn’t even bother closing his car door when he heard Brit’s horrible cries. The sound was grotesque and tortured, but he knew the voice, and it destroyed him to hear the agony in her sound. He ran in a streak, closing the space in a fraction of a second, and when he pushed past an officer before he could even register Angus’ movement, he saw her.

She was on her knees in the snow. One hand braced against the brick wall in front of her and the other clasped to her forehead as though her brain needed to be held in place. She was groaning and wailing, her mouth pulled back in a pained, agonized expression. “No … no … no … no … that’s not … no… It’s not her.” She started shaking her head as though she could argue with death if she refused to accept it. Angus could barely swallow at the sight of her, and his throat burned in his need to fall apart.

“Somebody get her out of here!” Her partner turned on his heel from his place by the body. He looked livid, but as his gaze caught on Brit’s crumpled form, his lips pulled up in grimace of pain. When his eyes lit on Angus, he stared, saying nothing. He was wrecked and in shock.

Angus moved fast to her body, scooping her up in his arms. She flailed and screamed at him, but he held tight to her body, shushing her. “I’ve got you.” He was murmuring against her cheek the same words over and over, and she stopped fighting and went slack. He wasn’t entirely sure she was even conscious as he carried her to his car. Her pain felt like it belonged to him. There was no distinguishing the difference. He’d failed her.

Chapter 22

She woke from the most terrible nightmare, crying out before she could restrain the guttural sound from escaping her throat. Her gaze found him. He was there. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed watching her as she lay curled up in the warmth of his bedding. She started to smile for a moment, glad the terror of her dream had passed, and then she remembered. It was no dream at all. The serious and concerned expression on his face was all the confirmation she needed.

The tears hit hard. She curled away from him as wave after wave hit like a tsunami of pain pummeling her over and over and over again. His hand touched her hip, and he pulled the blankets away from her back as he slid in beside her. His arms were strong as they enveloped her body and she cried. His door was open and she could hear Ember, Truman, and Dr. Bremmer talking quietly to one another, though she couldn’t understand and didn’t want to understand what they were saying.

She closed her eyes to the dim light of the lamp that barely lit the bedroom. “Tell me what I can do?” His voice was soothing and calm.

His body felt strong against her soft, weak form, and she didn’t want to hurt him, but as she opened her mouth, she knew she was going to try. “Just leave me alone. I want to be alone.” Her voice was steely cool though she felt like she was dying inside. This was more pain than she thought she could handle. This was going to kill her. And she wasn’t sure she cared.