Born to Bite (12 page)

“Barnyard sex?” Eshe asked with disbelief.

“Stable sex?” he offered.

Eshe took a moment to suck in a calming breath and then cleared her throat and said, “Look. Don’t worry about it. Armand can’t be behind the murders anyway. He was at court when his life mate Susanna died in a stable fire at their home, and he was home on the farm when his second wife, Althea, died in a fire in the hotel she and her parents were staying in, in Toronto. He couldn’t have killed either woman.”

“And Rosamund and Annie?” Bricker asked with interest.

“He was on the farm when they died too, but while I suppose that means he could have killed them, he couldn’t have killed the first two women, so if they’re connected he’s in the clear.”

“Right, because he was at court when Susanna died and here on the farm when Althea died in a hotel fire in Toronto,” Bricker reasoned.

“Exactly,” Eshe said with relief, glad he agreed.

Bricker nodded repeatedly and then asked, “And we know he was at court and then on the farm and nowhere near Toronto because…?”

“He told me,” she answered at once.

“Right,” Bricker drawled. “He told you…and he’d have no reason to lie, right?”

Eshe opened her mouth, and then closed it again and stared at him silently, her heart sinking.

“I don’t suppose he offered some proof, huh?” Bricker asked gently. “Maybe he was at court
with
someone? Or maybe he had a visitor at the farm who could prove he was there and not in Toronto at the time of the fire?”

Eshe closed her eyes briefly as she realized what she’d done. She’d simply believed him. Armand had told her his stories of his wives’ deaths and she hadn’t doubted a single word, or even considered doing any fact-checking. What the hell had she been thinking?

“Yeah,” Bricker said carefully. “Maybe this whole seduction thing is a bad idea. Maybe all this life mate business has set you a little off your stride, huh?”

Eshe turned abruptly on her heel and marched back to the stairs.

“Where are we going now?” Bricker asked, falling in beside her again as she mounted the steps.

“I am going to bed,” she announced grimly. “I didn’t get more than a couple hours of sleep this morning. Obviously that has left me a little slow today.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Bricker agreed solemnly.

“If you laugh at me, Bricker, I’ll knock you on your ass again,” she warned grimly, stomping across the porch to the door. “When did you get here?”

“About half an hour ago,” he answered, glancing at his wristwatch as he followed her inside. “The door was unlocked, but I thought I’d better wait outside so I settled in the rocker, and fell asleep. I didn’t hear you two get back, but woke up when Armand let the screen door clack closed behind him on the way back out.”

“Well, you’d better go down to the barn, find Armand, and let him know you’re here,” she said on a sigh, leading him to the kitchen, only to pause halfway to the refrigerator when she recalled that the blood wasn’t there anymore. And Armand hadn’t shown her the fridge in his walk-in closet as promised.

Clucking her tongue impatiently, she announced, “I’m calling Lucian and letting him know he should send someone else, but I’ll wait for you to get back before I head out.”

“Calling Lucian?” Bricker asked with surprise. “I thought it was just sleep you needed? A little rest and you’ll be right as rain.”

“Rest isn’t going to help,” she admitted unhappily, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “He’s my life mate, Bricker. The only thing I’m thinking when I’m near him is how to get his pants off.”

Bricker’s lips twitched, but he managed to keep a straight face as he said, “Well, that’s perfectly normal. You should have seen Mortimer when he found his life mate, Sam, or Decker when he found his Dani. Hell, it was boob city in the back of the van on Highway 401 with Decker.”

“Yes, but Nicholas’s life didn’t depend on Decker,” she pointed out, moving past him and heading into the hall to retrieve her leather pants from the hall floor where she’d left them.

“No,” Bricker agreed, hard on her heels. “A young girl’s life did.”

When Eshe paused and met his gaze, he added, “I’ve never known you to be a quitter, Eshe. Lucian sent you down here for a reason, and you know he isn’t likely to change his mind about having you here now. Just trust him and do what you can here.” When she hesitated, not refusing at once, he added, “At least sleep on it. Who knows, maybe a little rest really will help. You can always call Lucian tomorrow if it doesn’t.”

Eshe stared at him silently, terribly tempted by the suggestion. Maybe if she slept she would be a little more on the ball. And she could stay here with Armand. On the other hand, she really didn’t think sleep was going to help much. She couldn’t think clearly when she was around Armand. However, it wasn’t like one day’s rest was going to slow things down much here, her mind argued temptingly, and she could see Armand when she woke up.

“Fine, I’ll sleep on it, but I don’t think it will make a difference,” she muttered, turning toward the stairs. She heard Bricker’s murmured good-night, but merely raised her hand in a wave as she went. Her mind was too busy going over everything that had happened since her arrival for her to expend the effort needed to say anything. She really was exhausted, but suspected it wasn’t just her lack of sleep behind it. There was also the fact that she really could have used a couple more bags of blood just then; three or four would have done it. She generally needed only three or four a day, but she’d shorted herself the night before, and then the wine tonight had used up blood she really hadn’t had to spare.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where the blood was. She’d already been through Armand’s closet the night before after arriving and hadn’t seen any evidence of a refrigerator there. Obviously it was built in, and she didn’t feel like searching his closet again. Really, all she wanted to do right then was sleep. She was exhausted after what was essentially a roller coaster of a day. She’d arrived suspecting Armand was a murderer, found out he was her life mate, and spent the time since lusting after him while trying to do her job. His rejection on returning home—and that’s what it had felt like to her—had been the final straw.

Her mind was still running around in circles trying to understand what had happened there. At the mall he’d been ready to rush her back to the house and jump her bones, but after the meal he’d apparently lost interest. How could a life mate lose interest?

The question rambled through her mind on a note of disbelief and was followed by the fact that a life mate wouldn’t lose interest. Which meant either that he was fighting what they were for some reason, or that he could resist her because he wasn’t really her life mate. Perhaps she really couldn’t read him because he was difficult to read and not because he was her life mate. After all, Lucian couldn’t read him, she reminded herself. Maybe that’s all it was for her too, she thought.

Of course there was the reawakening of her appetites for both food and sex, Eshe acknowledged, but then worried that that might be more psychological than anything. Perhaps she was only interested in food and sex again because she
thought
he was her life mate.

Sighing at the confusion of her thoughts, Eshe decided that sleep was really what she needed. It should clear her thoughts at least a little. In the morning she would try to work it all out again and see if she came up with something different, she reassured herself as she walked into the guest room she’d chosen.

Eshe was crossing the dark room to the bed when she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Pausing, she peered at her reflection for a moment, noting how short and sexy the baby doll was. It had been a good choice on Armand’s part. Perfect, really. She doubted anything else in the store could have showed her off as well as it did.

“How the hell did he resist me?” she asked with bewilderment, and turned away with disgust to stride to the bed.

“How the hell did I resist her?” Armand muttered under his breath as he mucked out one of the stalls in the horse barn. He could still see her in his mind, eyes glowing golden in the dim hallway, the sharp white baby doll hugging her breasts and flowing down to barely past her hips, the skintight leather pants making her look almost nude but for the baby doll in the dim overhead light. Damn, all he’d wanted to do was throw her to the floor and—as she’d put it—have his “wicked way” with her. Instead, he’d said he had work to do and left the house, rushing down here like the devil himself was on his tail.

Armand didn’t know how he’d managed to resist the urges just looking at her raised in him, but he was damned sure of one thing, there was no way he was going to be able to resist her again…which meant he had to get her out of there as soon as possible. He couldn’t even afford to spend one night with her. Armand knew he’d been fooling himself with the belief that he could take one night and then send her away. He now suspected the truth was that one night wouldn’t be enough. He’d need another and another and another until…until he was made a widower for the fourth time, he acknowledged unhappily. That was his fear. Telling her about the deaths of his wives had made him realize how foolish he was being. It had resurrected all his doubts about those deaths being accidents, and reawakened his worries that someone had been stalking the people he loved and taking their lives, then covering them up as accidents. It had been bad enough when he’d thought only his wives had been killed, but after their talk at dinner, Armand was now wondering about his daughter-in-law Annie’s death too.

He needed to call Lucian now and get him to send someone down to collect Eshe and take her to a different safe house. His house just wasn’t that safe for Eshe d’Aureus, he thought, and straightened to reach in his pocket for his phone.

“Wow!”

Armand glanced sharply toward the open barn door as a man in leather pants, T-shirt, and leather jacket strode inside and along the stalls toward him. His nose was wrinkled with distaste and his lips twisted with disgust as he met Armand’s gaze.

“The smell in here is pretty rank, buddy. I don’t know how you put up with it. Have you ever considered some air fresheners maybe? Or a different job?”

“Who the hell—”

“Justin Bricker. You can call me Bricker,” he interrupted, offering his hand. “I work with Eshe.”

Armand automatically shifted his phone to his other hand and took Bricker’s. His gaze slid over the younger immortal as he shook the hand and he arched an eyebrow, “So do all of Lucian’s enforcers have a thing for leather, or is it just you and Eshe?”

“I rode my bike down, and leather protects your skin better if you wipe out. Means less blood needed to repair you after,” Bricker explained, and then grinned and added, “But I think Eshe has a thing for it. To tell the truth, I’ve never seen her out of it.”

“And you won’t,” Armand assured him grimly, his mouth tightening at the thought of this young kid seeing Eshe undressed.

“Got it. She’s off limits,” Bricker agreed with a wince. “I mean seriously, guy. It’s not like she’d even give me a second glance when she’s your life mate, right? So do you think you can release my hand now before you break it? The healing can be a bitch.”

Armand released his hold at once, feeling stupid as he realized that it hadn’t only been his mouth that had tightened. Apparently he was something of a jealous idiot. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and then asked, “So what are you doing here?”

“Lucian sent me,” Bricker muttered, rubbing his abused hand. “He thought you two might be a little preoccupied with each other, you being life mates and all, and he sent me as added protection.”

“Oh.” Armand sighed and then admitted, “I was going to call Lucian and suggest he take her somewhere else.”

“Now you don’t have to, right?” Bricker said lightly. “Now that I’m here there are two of us to watch her. She’s safe as a bug in a rug.”

“Rugs get stepped on,” Armand pointed out quietly.

“So do bugs out of rugs,” Bricker said easily. “But at least the rug offers some cushioning.”

“I don’t know,” Armand said with a frown.

“Sleep on it,” Bricker suggested easily, leaning his arms on the top of the stall. “If you’re still worried in the morning, give Lucian a call…but I doubt he’ll change his mind.”

Armand suspected he was right, but didn’t say as much. He simply watched the other man glance around the stall and then the barn again.

“So, you live out here on purpose?” Bricker asked with open disbelief.

Armand stared at him blankly for a moment, and then a short, surprised laugh burst from his mouth. It seemed obvious the fellow wasn’t impressed, and he asked, “City boy?”

“All my life,” Bricker admitted almost apologetically. “My uncle had a farm and I used to go there, but I never quite figured out the attraction of treading through manure.”

“We generally try not to do that,” Armand assured him with amusement.

“Good to know,” Bricker said, and then raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“It’s kind of you to offer, but I think I have everything under control,” Armand said wryly, thinking the boy would be more hindrance than help. If he’d never been on a farm before, he wouldn’t know what the hell he was doing. “Perhaps you should just go back to the house and keep an eye on Eshe.”

“She went to bed,” Bricker said with a shrug, and then added archly, “Alone. Not the usual outcome between life mates, I must say. Decker and Mortimer were both like a couple of bulls in mating season when they met their life mates, and Eshe was all set to march out here in nothing but this shiny white baby doll and knee-high leather boots when I stopped her. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Armand stared at him with a combination of anger at the idea that this punk kid had been the first one to see Eshe properly in just the baby doll, and confusion over the “you’re welcome” bit. “What am I welcome for?”

“Well, I saved you slivers in the ass from doing it out here in the barn with the horses looking on,” he pointed out, and then frowned and said, “Or maybe I saved her the slivers. Either way, someone didn’t get slivers in their ass thanks to my intervention.”