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Authors: Kaylea Cross

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BOOK: Darkest Caress
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She tried to glare, but she doubted she pulled it off with the tears coming hard and fast. “Y-you forgot your ph-phone on purpose, d-didn’t you?”

He grinned, affirming her suspicions. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve known Daegan a long time. He’s the best. You’re lucky to have him as your mate.”

Lucky? How did any of this make her lucky? “How old are y-you, anyway?” she demanded.

He stood, equal parts sympathy and amusement in his eyes as he turned to go. “Almost two hundred.”

Chapter Four
 

After another night of endless sexual torture Daegan walked through his front door, barely keeping his eyes open. He dragged his sorry ass inside to find Cade already seated at the island, drinking coffee.

His cousin raised one golden brow at him as he stumbled into the sunny kitchen. “Rough night?”

“Fuck off.”

Cade laughed and slid an empty mug across the island to him, looking fresh and relaxed after a night of sex with whichever woman he was currently screwing. Daegan never bothered trying to keep track. “Pot’s fresh. Help yourself.”

Daegan grunted and poured himself a cup, his body perking up at the prospect of some hot caffeine. He downed half the mug before his cell rang. He knew who it was without looking at the display. The lawyer, telling him everything was in place so they could take possession of the new house today. Thanks to some foresight and a bit of mental persuasion, the whole legal and logistical process had completed itself in a matter of hours instead of weeks. “Today’s moving day,” he told Cade when he hung up.

Cade set down his mug. “That fast?”

“Yep. Moving truck will be here within the hour.” He was nothing if not efficient. “I want you to set up the training area first thing.”

“Okay…”

“Where’s Vaughn?”

“Dunno, haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

Not an unusual occurrence, but Vaughn needed to be informed of what was happening. Would be nice if the guy stayed around more often. It made logistics a hell of a lot easier when they were all in the same place—one of the main reasons Daegan was moving them all into one secure location. They needed a safe home base for training and operations, and the estate on the water was ideal for their purposes. The Baltic and Irish limestone it was built of merely solidified it was where they were meant to be.

But forcing Vaughn to move in could be a problem. He was a loner and hated being around anyone else. Still hard to see him like that after all these years. Before the unthinkable had happened, he’d been the life of the party and Daegan’s best friend.

He pushed the painful memories away with a sigh. As he turned away, Cade flipped on the TV, but Daegan didn’t hear a thing over the static in his head.

He ran a hand through his hair, tried to gather his thoughts. His mind was in chaos, and he resented the hell out of it. The lack of sleep was definitely starting to catch up with him. He’d spent most of the night twitching and sweating in his car, down the street from Liv’s place. Partly because he’d hoped she’d contact him, but mainly because he didn’t want to leave her unprotected.

When it was clear Aaron wasn’t going to do a repeat performance of the attack and the physical symptoms of the Heat Cycle got too bad for Daegan to handle, he’d caved and rented a cheap motel room for the remainder of the night. Luckily the man at the desk had taken his money with barely a glance at him, because no way could he have made it all the way back to West Van in that condition.

Holed up in that shabby room, for almost five hours he’d made repeated trips into the shower to take the worst of the edge off the sexual need with his fist and a bar of soap. Right up ’til sunrise he’d waited for his phone to ring, but Liv hadn’t called. Hadn’t even texted him. He had no idea how she’d coped with the vicious erotic torture she must have endured, but he’d been too proud to reach out again. A male could only take so much rejection from a woman, let alone his mate.

When the physical need finally became too much for her to take, she’d eventually have to come to him. And that had better happen soon, or he would lose his mind. Literally.

“Um, Dae?”

He stiffened at the warning tone in Cade’s voice, his mug poised partway to his mouth. “What?”

“You’d better take a look at this.”

Ah, shit. What now?
He spun around to face the TV.

While his cousin turned up the volume, Daegan focused on the newscast. It featured a breaking story about a rash of deaths involving recently paroled dangerous offenders in the area. Seemingly healthy men in their thirties and forties, all convicted rapists or pedophiles. All suddenly dead. Four fatalities in the past week, to be exact, the autopsies listing massive heart attacks as the cause of death.

Cade set down the remote and let out a low whistle. The muscles in Daegan’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.

The reckless
bastard
.

“Fucking Vaughn,” he growled, hitting his number on speed dial. They didn’t need this added risk right now.

Vaughn picked up on the second ring with a bored, “Hey.” His voice was raspy, his vocal cords never having healed from the emergency tracheotomy that had saved his life the last time he’d tried to kill himself. That time his weapon of choice had been a Taliban remote-detonated IED embedded in a road outside of Kandahar in southern Afghanistan. One the suicidal maniac had watched them plant.

“I want you back here,” Daegan said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

The insolent bastard hung up before Daegan could say anything else. A few seconds later he heard the sound of a key scraping in the front door lock.

Daegan scowled. The bastard
would
rub it in that he could materialize to any place he wanted, unlike him and Cade. But that ability came in damn handy for Vaughn’s role as Reaper.

The door swung open and Vaughn strode through it, a six-foot-four wall of muscular menace wrapped in a black leather jacket. He was more dead than alive on the inside, and it showed. The disfiguring burn scars over the left side of his face and throat made him look chilling enough, but it was the eyes that scared people shitless. Black and cold except for the disturbing shards of bright yellow embedded in the irises, they pierced right through a man.

The odd coloring was a constant warning to Daegan. It told him just how close Vaughn was to turning to the darkness. If those eyes of his ever completely turned yellow…they’d all be in a world of hurt.

The happy consequences of what happened when an Empowered male lost his bonded mate.

Looking at Vaughn, a renewed urgency to protect Liv surged through Daegan. The thought of anything happening to her knotted his guts, though they weren’t bonded. Hell, they hadn’t even
kissed
yet. He had no idea how Vaughn had made it alone this long without turning, though the guy made it abundantly clear he didn’t want to live anymore. Unfortunately for Vaughn, his heart kept beating regardless of his constant suffering.

The Reaper wiped his big steel-toed boots on the mat twice, about as close to a show of respect as he ever gave anyone. He entered the kitchen, leaned negligently against the wall with his arms folded across his massive chest. Raising one mocking black brow, he stared at Daegan. “What’s up?”

Daegan carefully set his phone down on the counter, fighting back his irritation. “Been busy?”

Vaughn shrugged.

“You know, if you’re that bored I guarantee I can find more useful ways to fill your free time.”

The Reaper’s expression remained completely remote and unapologetic. “I gave those wastes of skin the chance to redeem themselves. They declined it.”

A dull throb spread through Daegan’s temples. “How many witnesses did you have to scrub afterward?”

“A few, but I was thorough,” he answered, a defensive edge in his gravelly voice. “They don’t remember anything.”

That wasn’t the point, but stripping mortals’ memories was the least of their worries right now. “Ever stop to consider that offing four victims in such a short time frame might alert someone to our presence? Like, maybe a member of the Dark Army?”

Another shrug, this one bordering on belligerence. It meant
fuck you—I don’t want to be here anyway
.

Daegan’s temper rose to a simmer. Vaughn was a hardheaded son-of-a-bitch, but this increasing disregard for risking their exposure was a huge problem. Especially now. “You don’t care? Then let me make this real clear for you. No more of that bullshit. Because as of two days ago, things are different.” He held Vaughn’s eerie stare, completely unafraid of him as he dropped the bomb. “I’ve got a mate to protect now.”

Vaughn’s head snapped back, his eyebrows drawing together. “
What
?” He cast a disbelieving glance at Cade, who verified the news with a nod.

Daegan understood his shock, but for him Liv’s welfare trumped everything else. “She’s a Seeker. I won’t tolerate anything or anyone jeopardizing her safety. That includes you pulling more reckless stunts. The DA could come after us any day now. Regardless of your personal vendetta and the way you operate, my mate’s safety comes first from now on. Period. Understand?”

Those empty black eyes came to life for a split second, and Daegan caught a flash of naked agony in their depths before Vaughn masked it.

Knowing he’d just hit the male’s deepest wound, he quickly changed the subject. “And we’re moving, so you’d better get your stuff ready.”

Vaughn’s face was utterly devoid of emotion. A blank screen. If Daegan hadn’t been so used to that expression, it would have made his skin crawl. “When?”

“Today.” Daegan reached for his coffee, slid his other hand into his front pocket. “But before we do, you and I have something to take care of.”

Vaughn straightened, a hint of interest creeping into his expression. “Coven business?”

Daegan gave a hard smile. “Yeah.” Coven Law. The old-school way to bring the pain. “We’re going to pay a visit to the bastard who went after my mate last night.”

* * *

 

Aaron winced, biting back a curse as he bent over the sink to splash cool water over his ruined face. The pain in his cheekbone made it feel like his eye was going to explode. He glanced up into the mirror. “Shit.”

That asshole might have broken the bone. The entire right side of his face was swollen and turning a purplish-blue. All because of that snotty bitch locking herself into her car. If he’d been able to get to her before that guy had shown up, things would have turned out much differently.

Someone pounded on the front door.

Cursing, he gingerly pulled a T-shirt over his head then went to the foyer to answer it. Pulling it open, he took an involuntary step back.

The fucker who’d smashed in his face stood on his doorstep.

Aaron’s heart stuttered. “What the hell do you want? Get out of here before I call the cops.”

The dark-haired man blocked the door from slamming shut with his forearm.

Aaron whipped around and brought his hands up to defend himself. Crazy bastard—who knew what he was going to do? “Get out of my house.” He couldn’t control the wobble in his voice.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Fuck you.”

Before he could get to the door and jam it shut, the guy reached in and snatched him around the back of the neck. Aaron let out a sharp cry as he left the ground, hurtling headfirst through the doorway and over the front steps. He hit the grass hard, taking the impact with his ribs and the good side of his face. The hot bolt of pain in his chest was nothing compared to the searing blaze in his battered cheek. He howled in agony and scrambled to his knees, cradling the swollen half of his face in both hands.

A powerful fist grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt, hauling him six inches off the ground. His eyes popped wide as he clawed at the hand, staring down at the scary-ass dude. He was freakishly strong, holding him in the air like a rag doll despite Aaron’s height and size. Those ice-blue eyes were so cold they burned.

“Christ, put me down!”

“Why did you go after Olivia?” he snarled, pale eyes narrowed to slits.

“I didn’t!” Aaron kicked and struggled in that iron grip, but to no avail. “She was supposed to show me the…house,” he managed past the pressure of the twisted neckline pressing on his throat. “She wouldn’t get…out of the car…”

“Because she knew you’d rape her if she did.”

He blanched, then flushed.
How did…
“No—”

The man flung him down with an angry growl.

Aaron knees thudded on the dewy grass, his heart thundering against his chest. He cast a frantic glance around him. It was fucking Saturday morning in the middle of summer—why wasn’t anyone else outside? No joggers, no kids outside riding their bikes, not one of his neighbors out getting their papers or washing their cars. He trained wary eyes on his attacker, hating the way his insides shriveled under that cold blue stare.

The man’s whole body radiated power and menace. “Last chance, asshole.”

Shrinking from the promise of hell in those eyes, Aaron shook his head in helpless denial. He wasn’t going to say anything.

That hard mouth thinned in disgust. “As much as I’d love to take you out myself, Coven Law dictates you get to make the final choice about your fate.”

A shiver of apprehension raced down his spine. Coven Law? Final choice about his fate? What was this crazy fucker
talking
about?

The man’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening further as he pulled out his phone. He held Aaron’s stare while he hit a button, then a second later said, “Vaughn. He’s all yours.”

Aaron yelped and fell backward onto his ass when another man suddenly appeared on the grass next to the other one. Apart from the way he’d just poofed onto his front lawn, this dude was bigger than the last, with a scarred face and weird-ass eyes that made Aaron’s bowels cramp in terror. If the first guy was lethal, this one was the angel of death.

Aaron scuttled backward like a crab, his brain shrieking in denial as the big bastard stalked toward him. A whimper clawed out of his tight throat at the promise of death he saw in those eyes. Oh shit, he was going to die. Right here and now the guy was gonna kill him, in his own front yard, and there were no witnesses around to see it.

The tips of the man’s boots stopped inches from Aaron’s shaking bare toes. He didn’t make a move to touch him, but Aaron couldn’t budge, trapped by those freaky eyes. Though he wanted to, he couldn’t look away.

He stared up at the frightening man helplessly, and everything else around him faded away. He no longer heard the birds chirping and the drone of a lawnmower one block over. He couldn’t feel the pain in his face or the damp grass beneath him. Everything went numb and quiet and kind of…fuzzy.

BOOK: Darkest Caress
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