Authors: Karen Michelle Nutt
“No, it’s okay. A car accident, I would have been with them, but I had a cold and they left me at home with a babysitter.”
“It wasn’t your time.”
She looked at him with a wan smile. “No. Fate perhaps had other plans for me.” Her gaze wavered over him, slow seductive. She looked him in the eye. The restless desire there had her heart racing.
He cleared his throat and pulled at his collar as if it had suddenly become inches too small. “The journal’s thick.” He pointed, changing the subject.
She sighed. “I read fast. Besides we know you have a blood problem.”
“To say the least.”
“Well it looks like my uncle categorized ailments, treatments and—” The sound of glass shattering downstairs had her on her feet. “What was that?” She took a step toward the door, but he placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.
“You don’t know who’s down there … or what.”
She chuckled. “Do you think there are more of you around, waiting for me to find a cure?”
“Probably not, but why take a chance. Let me check it out. Stay here.” He opened the door as quietly as possible and slipped out.
She waited for about half a second before she ran to the narrow cupboard beside her refrigerator where she kept holiday glasses…among other things. She grabbed her gun then she headed downstairs. “What did he think I did before he entered my life?” she mumbled under her breath.
More shattered glass, which really pissed her off. At the bottom of the stairs, her gaze latched onto the shadowy figures grappled for control, but she knew the taller broader shadow moved like Jairec. He tossed the man against the counter. The shelves teetered and bottles rattled free, falling to the ground like exploding glass bombs.
“Jairec, watch out,” she shouted the warning.
The guy came at him, hurdling him to the ground. She couldn’t use her gun without possibly hitting Jairec; then again she couldn’t kill him. She aimed and fired.
Curses flew from the assailant as he fell and became still.
“Holy, holy—Did I kill him?” She ran toward the intruder.
“Stop, Autumn!” The warning came a second too late.
The assailant flew to his feet and yanked the gun out of her hand. He held her pressed against his body. “Stay where you are or she dies.” He proved he meant the threat by pressing the barrel against her temple, his fingers itchy to press the trigger.
****
Jairec recognized the timber of the voice and that was startling in its own way. “Tristan?
“Tristan in like he’s your brother?” Autumn asked.
Jairec flipped the switch on the wall, flooding the room with light. Tristan squinted his eyes, but he didn’t ease his grip on Autumn.
“Aye. It’s my no good brother. Let her go, Tristan and tell me where in the hell you’ve been?”
“I could say the same about you brother.” He jerked his chin at him.
Jairec sensed something was off kilter with Tristan. His muscles tightened as if he sensed a threat, but he didn’t understand why. This was his brother. “Let Autumn go.”
Tristan hesitated but he gave her a nudge and she ran to Jairec’s side. Tristan put the gun down on the counter and held onto his right arm where the bullet had grazed his bicep. Blood oozed from the wound, but he’d live.
“Why didn’t you show up at Castagnolia’s the other night?” Jairec folded his arms against his chest. He couldn’t wait to hear his brother’s lame excuse.
“Let’s say, I ran into a wee bit of trouble.” His mouth flattened into a fine line. “It would be best if you leave town, Jairec.”
His brother’s words were laced with a warning and his expression filled with uneasy worry. “What are involved in? Let me help you.”
Tristan shook his head. “You can’t help me.” He glanced outside as if what had him spooked lurked there. “You can’t fight evil.”
Jairec felt the dread slam into him as he realized what trouble his brother was in. “You know of the chiang-shih,” he accused. You’re the cause of what I’ve become.”
Tristan’s gaze riveted to him, his brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”
“When you didn’t show, I went looking for you. The white haired guy that was with you tried to bash my brains, but instead …”
“No.” Tristan shook his head. His eyes widening as the truth sunk in.
“… made me one of the undead.”
“No, how can that be?” Tristan backed away, running his hand through his hair, his expression changing from confusion to concern.
****
Autumn detected the same rolling speech in each man, indicating they were indeed brothers. Tristan stood a few inches shorter than Jairec and that was not to say they weren’t both tall. Tristan’s hair was light. Jairec’s was dark, but they both inherited the same eye color, whether from their mother or their father she didn’t know. “It’s nice that you two are having a family reunion, but what is your brother doing here? Why did he break into my shop?”
Jairec crossed his arms across his chest. “Answer the question. I’m curious myself.”
Tristan chuckled. “I could say the same of you.”
“I was invited.”
Tristan’s brows lifted. He looked at Autumn and she took a step back not liking how his fixed gaze licked over her.
Her sight landed on where his wound should have been, but the skin was unmarred. “Holy, holy …”
Tristan realized where her gaze had landed and he glanced at his arm. “Oh bugger.” He hissed as he lunged toward Autumn, but Jairec was quicker and he threw a punch. Tristan flew through the air landing hard on his back, but before Jairec could grab him again, he scrambled to his feet.
“We’ll talk later, Jairec to be sure, but I’ll leave you with a warning: The Dragon parade will be your doom. Don’t be a bloody tap, and try to save the day.” He fled into the night without turning back.
“Tristan!” he called, running after him. He stood at the door, scanning the street, but his brother had already receded into the night.
Autumn moved beside him. “He’s like you, isn’t he?”
He turned to look at her. “No, Autumn he’s not. The poor sod’s tasted human blood.”
Chapter Ten
After his confrontation with his brother, Tristen made his way back to the warehouse, keeping to the shadows. He needed to think and he didn’t want his brother finding him without a plan in place.
He paced the large room with the timber beams and poor lighting. The windows had been painted black to keep the sun’s rays out. It was dark and damp like a cave. A perfect layout for the nightmare he was living. He was antsy and frustrated with how the events had played out. He whirled on the white-haired man. His Asian eyes a bottomless pool of silver over black, giving them an unsettling appearance of doom. He went by the name Heng. Whether this was his true name or not the name meant eternal, being a chiang-shih he qualified. “I told you I wanted to keep my brother out of this. We had a deal.”
“You left me no choice. You brought him here and he wouldn’t stop looking for you.” His voice lowered and his gaze locked onto him. “Once he found you—
and you know he would have
—he would know you were different. I couldn’t risk it. If I’m to raise an army, we need to be discreet.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug as he examined his long sharp fingernails. “I could have drained him, but I brought him over to our side instead. I thought you’d be pleased.”
Tristan didn’t voice what he thought of this plan. He knew his brother. Even cursed, he could bet the man still held onto his code of ethics. Sainted Jairec always did what was right. He would never be one of them in spirit. In the end, Tristan knew he would have to eliminate him. He threw up his hands in frustration. He hadn’t wanted this for his little brother. Like always, he’d dragged him into his mess, but this time he didn’t see a way out. “What if Jairec refuses to join us?”
“He will. They all eventually seek our protection. He’ll only be able to keep the temptation at bay for so long, but it will become too unbearable. He’ll make his first kill and we’ll own him.”
Tristan swallowed back the sickening lump in the back of his throat. He had yet to make his own first kill. Heng had supplied the blood source thus far. He didn’t want to think of where he had gotten it or whose it was.
“Chinatown will be ours.” His maniacal laugh grated on Tristan’s nerves.
Tristan knew Heng was mad, but he’d conjured him up and now he had to deal with him.
When Tristan had been fired from his job at Old Treasures, an antique store located in the heart of Chinatown, he went to the pub and drank himself into a stupor. Then he did something even dumber, he went back to the antique shop he’d been fired from and broke in. He stole the urn that had arrived earlier that day with symbols he didn’t understand. He recited the passage attached to it, not realizing the words sealed his fate.
Heng appeared in a cloud of smoke as if he’d released a genie from a bottle. Heng promised a way to get even with his old boss. He promised him power where no one would bother him. He promised he’d live forever. Tristan agreed, selling his soul to damnation. Now sober, eternal life didn’t sound so promising. “My brother was with a human,” he told him.
“Yes, I know.”
“You knew?” He ignored the quick twist in his gut. “Is this why you sent me there? I thought I was to steal a book or was that a lie too?”
“No, but I don’t think we need to worry about it. Jin was the sorcerer. If he had taught his niece, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes. “You wanker. You sent me there as the guinea pig to see if I would be zapped into dust.”
Heng laughed. “Why of course. You didn’t think I would risk my own neck, did you?”
Chapter Eleven
Jairec helped Autumn clean up the shop, putting it back to some sense of order. He boarded the door where the glass had been broken. Autumn would call someone in the morning to fix it.
He turned toward her. She had held up well through all the preternatural business but it was finally taking its toll. She hugged herself as if she could keep the last thread of her sanity intact. “Autumn?” She met his gaze and her green eyes pooled. He was at her side, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this to your doorstep. I’ll leave. Tristan mentioned the last parade. Whatever is happening will happen then. I’ll find my brother and—”
“Shut up, Jairec.” She leaned up and kissed him, startling them both. Her gaze met his as if waiting for him to make the next move.
Not exactly what he expected, but he wasn’t going to complain. Even in his undead state, it seemed he was still a bloke and she was one attractive woman. His hands went around her waist, pulling her closer. His hands gripped a fistful of her dark hair. His gaze wavered over her features to make sure this is what she wanted. Her eyelids fluttered close and her lips parted. That was all the encouragement he needed. He slanted his mouth over hers, planting a searing kiss.
She pulled at his shirt, rubbing her hands beneath the fabric. He groaned. Her hands tortured him with pleasure. He wanted her and if he could believe the way her hands moved over him, she wanted him, too. He leaned back, brushing her hair away from her face, forcing her to look at him. “Are you sure, luv? Because you know I’m not a saint and now would be the time for you to tell me to back off.”
“I don’t want you to back off. We could die tomorrow. Well, I could die tomorrow. You could become the undead forever. I want someone to hold me tonight. Make love to me. You can still … you know do that, can’t you.” She glanced down and then up to meet his gaze once more.
“Uh … I believe so. The equipment seems to be working exceptionally well.” He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t met a girl who spoke her mind, on whatever it might be. He liked it. He liked her. He’d been drawn to her from the beginning as if destiny led him to her.
“Make love to me, Jairec.”
He wanted to. Boy did he want to; however, he had to think of her safety. What if he lost control and bit her? He could kill her.
“I trust you,” she told him as if she read his mind.
“I don’t know if I trust myself.”
“I trust you,” she said again, pulling his hand out of his pocket and clasping it. “My grandmother says there are no coincidences. Fate brought you to me.”
He had thought the same thing a second ago. “What if it was to do you harm?”
She tilted her head to the side, her mouth curving into a smile. “Never. I feel more alive when I’m with you.”
He shook his head. “That’s not good. A dead man makes you feel alive. What is wrong with this picture?”
“Tell me what is right? Everything’s been turned upside down.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”
“There’s a connection no doubt. I’ve never felt this with anyone, and if we had met before all this happened I would have pursued you like there was no tomorrow.”
“There may not be.”
“Be serious, Autumn. I have nothing to offer you. There’s no future for us.”
She nodded her head and took a deep breath. “You can promise me tonight.”