Embrace the Highland Warrior (21 page)

“That’s comforting,” Lach said. “A bunch of well-funded, invisible vampires.”

“Who might be able to read minds,” Brodie added. “Now we know how he got past the locks. Damn things can probably float right through keyholes.”

“We don’t even know how to fight them,” Jamie said, “other than cutting off their heads or piercing their hearts. Do they come out only at night? Do they die in sunlight? We know demons, how they operate. How do we fight what we don’t know?”

“I’ve been trying to find someone who knows about them,” Ronan said. “All I’m getting are quacks and wannabes. We need to capture one of the vampires.”

Sorcha pushed the button releasing her sword blade. “Lop off their heads. End of story.”

“Good thing you’re not in charge of gathering intel. You’d just kill everything in sight,” Duncan said.

“It works,” Sorcha said.

Bree handed out bottles of water as the warriors made one final weapons check. “I’m going to look into some old legends. If these things exist, there must be a record of them somewhere.”

Lach’s phone rang. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Any call this late must be related to the search. Cody felt hope rising. Someone had found her, or at least spotted something that would give them a location.

Cody was watching his brother and saw Lach’s face pale. He met Cody’s gaze and quickly looked away. “I see.”

“Who’s on the phone?” Cody demanded.

Lach nodded. “Okay. We’re on the way.”

“Who was that?” Cody’s voice sounded like it came from a barrel.

Lach’s jaw clenched. He met Cody’s gaze, but his eyes were flat.

Denial balled up in Cody’s throat, but he knew what was coming. “Spit it out.”

“Two of the buffers just found a body.”

Chapter 12

Cody’s chest ached; he tried to drag in a breath. “Where?” His voice cracked.

“Just below one of the scenic overlooks,” Lach said.

Cody walked a few paces before his legs gave out. The numbness faded, and he doubled over, unable to breathe. He leaned against a tree, staring at the path leading to the cabin, and remembered making love to Shay, holding her, learning about the baby. For nine years he had faced every sunrise not knowing that he’d lost a son, and now, before he could even wrap his head around it, he’d lost her too. He straightened with a wounded roar and punched the tree. The skin on his knuckles split, but the pain felt good, dulling the ache in his heart.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned.

Jamie stood there, his eyes as ravaged as Cody’s fist. “We need to go.”

Marcas drove them to the scene. “Let me do it,” he said as they reached the site where the two men waited.

Cody opened the car door. “No, I have to. I’d rather you waited here.” He didn’t include Jamie. Mate mark or not, he understood Jamie’s need to know.

Lach put his hand on Cody’s arm and squeezed.

“She’s just over there,” one of the buffers said, flashing his light toward a low mound. “She was covered by leaves. We tried not to touch anything.” Cody recognized him but didn’t know his name. He turned on his flashlight and climbed down toward the spot. He heard Jamie’s uneven breathing behind him.

Leaves had been piled over the body, but a foot was exposed. Cody jerked the light away, feeling the lump in his throat grow bigger. He remembered Shay sitting next to him at the lake, legs long and tanned, laughing as he buried her toes in the sand. Pink polish. She always wore pink. She wriggled them free before he finished, her eyes glistening with laughter, and he started all over again, while she tried to swat him away. Her eyes always glistened when she laughed. And when she cried. He made her cry too. Not that day, but later.

Jamie stood on the other side of the mound, his shoulders heavy with grief. He looked up and met Cody’s eyes, and a bond was forged between the two men. He held the light just off the body, because it felt intrusive to let it hit her full in the face. Jamie’s beam joined his. Steeling his jaw, Cody squatted and gently brushed aside the leaves, too numb to care that he was corrupting a crime scene. Blond hair.
God, he was going to be sick.
He brushed away a few more leaves, trying not to hit her face. Delicate forehead, with a gaping cut across the center, brows a shade darker than her hair, closed eyes. The lump in his throat was choking him. His phone rang, and he grabbed it so he could escape. “Hello?” The line crackled with static.

“Cody. Get me out of here.”

The muscles in his legs felt like water. “Shay?” Cody’s flashlight dropped, thudding softly in the leaves. The static on the phone grew louder. Cody looked at it, then the lump, vaguely aware of Jamie staring at him. Was this the mind’s way of trying to cope?

“Cody? Can you hear me? I need you to get me out of here.”

“Where are you?” he rasped.

Jamie knocked aside the leaves, shining his light on the woman’s face. She could have been Shay’s sister, they were so alike, but it wasn’t Shay. Jamie dropped beside the mound, covering his face in his hands.

“Shay? Where are you?”

“I’ve been arrested. Renee’s dead.”

***

Two hours earlier…

Shay froze as a shot fired over her head. A screech sounded above her, and a giant white owl, like the one she saw at the lake, swooped down, latching its claws into Ellis’s shoulders. He screamed and threw up his hands to protect his head. Shay turned and ran. Ellis charged after her, bellowing her name, even as the owl clawed at his head. He fired off two more shots that went wild. Shay glanced up, and the owl’s eyes—a startling shade of green—locked with hers and dug its claws deeper into Ellis’s skin. Ellis screamed, eyes wide with pain, and came at her again. He had lost his gun. Shay watched her hand moving as if in slow motion, stretching, reaching, the scalpel dragging across his throat, slicing his jugular vein, blood spraying, spattering her face and clothes with gore. The scalpel dropped from her fingers. Ellis gurgled, his mouth and eyes wide with shock.

Shay backed away, turned, and ran, her breath coming in painful gasps. The car. She stopped hard. It was Renee’s. Oh God. Was Renee in the cabin? Shay ran back, but it was empty. She hurried to the car, her legs starting to give. Open door. Get in. Keys. Please let there be keys. No. She gave a soft cry and looked back at Ellis lying on the ground. The owl was nowhere in sight, if it had even been there. Teeth clenched, she got out and ran to Ellis. She dropped beside the body, eyes avoiding the blood-stained ground and his gaping neck.

She dug in his pocket until her fingers touched metal. She pulled out the keys, ripping his pocket in the process, and stood. She looked down at the blood covering her feet, and her stomach heaved. She turned, spewing up the remnants of her last meal. Swiping at her mouth, she ran back to the car. She jumped in, started the engine, and threw the car in gear. She stomped on the gas and lurched onto the road, looking for something familiar. She came to a dead end. She was shaking and crying, and the smell of blood was making her ill. She turned the car around and backtracked, passing Ellis’s body still lying in the grass. She glimpsed something white in the trees. She came to a sign. Front Royal, two miles. She was near Front Royal. She had to get to a phone and call Cody. Let him be okay, please, God. She couldn’t lose him. How much time had passed? The clock said 1:00 a.m., but Renee’s clock never worked.

She headed south. Her brain was full of questions, but she was going numb. Shock. She needed help. Should she flag down a car? She had Ellis’s blood all over her. A phone. She dug through Renee’s center console and found her
Best
of
the
Eighties
CD, a fingernail file, and two packs of gum. No cell phone.

Lights flashed behind her. Thank God. The police. She pulled over to the side and waited for them to approach the car. She heaved once at the stench of Ellis’s blood and rolled down the window.

“Ma’am,” the officer said. His eyes widened at the blood on her shirt. He drew his gun. “Step out of the car. Slowly. Now.”

Shay got out and opened her mouth to speak, when another officer joined them. “I need help. I’ve been—”

“You have ID?”

“No—”

“Whose blood is this?”

“I was kidnapped.”

He sniffed and aimed his flashlight at the backseat of the car. “What’s in the trunk?”

She moved slowly, pulling out the car keys.

“Stand back,” the first officer said. The second one raised the lid. Shay saw him cover his nose.

“What is it?” She moved away from the first officer, ignoring his raised voice warning her to stop. She looked inside the trunk. Pink shirt, black pants, red hair. Blank, staring eyes.

Shay started falling and couldn’t stop.

***

Malek slammed the phone down after the minion’s report. “Imbecile.” Ellis had nearly ruined everything. Malek shifted back to his human form and rubbed his aching head. Why couldn’t the shifts come without the aches and pains? Halflings had it easier. They just created an illusion and hid behind it. They didn’t have to fit into this damned skin, weaknesses and all.

He had to get Shay out of jail, but if he stormed in and took her by force, it would blow his disguise. He would have to go and fix things himself, before Tristol got the book and the girl. She had to die, and Cody would die with her.

***

“Apparently just after Shay called you, Ellis’s boss came in with a letter he found in Ellis’s things, confessing to everything, the murders in Scotland and the woman on Skyline Drive. And the prints from the scene where Ellis was holding Shay match the latent print found near one of the bodies in Scotland. All tied up, nice and tidy,” Sam said.

Almost too tidy, Cody thought as the truck whizzed past morning traffic. “They told you all this?” He wondered if Sam could fix a speeding ticket.

“I pulled some strings that’ll probably end up strangling me. I don’t know what to tell you. It’s like everyone around her is dropping dead. If what you say is true, she might be safer locked up.”

The jail walls might as well be made of lace, with what was after her. “I need to get her to the castle in Scotland. I can keep her safe there.” At least she was alive. He was still stuck on that fact. He could handle the rest, demons, vampires, police. She was alive.

“You have a castle?” Sam asked.

“Kind of.”

“A kind-of castle? After this is over, you and I are going to sit down and have a heart-to-heart. I’ve taken too much heat for you to be kept in the dark.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “You can come to the castle, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“So now it’s a real castle,” Sam said.

Lachlan rolled his eyes. “The Council is going to tear you apart.”

***

“Where is she?” Cody asked, rushing into the house.

Bree looked up in surprise. “She walked to the barn. Don’t panic. There are warriors patrolling the grounds, and Ronan’s close by. He went to check the cameras at Nina’s again. He’s all worked up over this.”

“She shouldn’t be alone, not after what happened.”

“She needed time to herself. She has a lot to work though.” Bree put her hand on Cody’s cheek and gave him a sympathetic look. Her eyes glazed over, and her knees buckled. Cody grabbed her to keep her from falling. “What’s wrong? Is it Shay?”

Bree clutched Cody’s arm, resting her head against his chest. He could feel her heart racing. She shook her head. “I don’t know what that was.”

“The baby?”

“How do you know… damn Ronan.”

“Wasn’t him. I overheard you telling Shay.”

“Everyone’s going to know before Faelan does.”

“Damnation.” They both looked up at Faelan standing in the door, glaring at them. “First Ronan, now you. Why’s everyone touching my wife?”

“He’s not touching me, you big oaf. I just felt weak.”

Faelan bounded over to her, wrestling her from Cody’s arms. “Blasted woman. It’s the concussion. I told you to rest,” he said, picking her up so fast that Cody figured if she wasn’t dizzy before, she was now. He carried her to the sofa and sat down, cradling her in his lap.

Cody watched them for a moment, love pouring from them so thick a person could spread it on toast. “Can you keep everyone away from the barn? I need a few minutes alone with Shay.”

Faelan nodded. “Aye.”

Cody followed the path to the barn. The door was open, and the smell of hay was strong. The tattered remains of the rope still hung from the rafters. This is where everything changed. Shay had just turned sixteen, and Cody had found out about her hidden identity. It’d been hell having to keep a secret from her. He and Shay went to the barn to get a bucket for Nina. He climbed on the rope, swung off, and dropped into the hay. Not to be outdone, Shay followed, landing on top of him. She wrestled around with him for a minute, tickling him, like they often did, but Cody didn’t laugh. It took him a few minutes before he could get out of the hay.

From that day on, he saw her as a girl, a soft feminine girl, with bumps and curves in all the right places. After that, he tried not to touch her and watched her only when she wasn’t looking. He thought he had it under control, until the night they went looking for Nina’s cat.

He started up the ladder. Up there his world had come to an end.

Each rung he climbed brought memories that would be part of him until he died. Her breasts, the feel of her legs opening for him. He hadn’t thought about her being a virgin until he saw the blood, even though he was one too. He still didn’t regret what happened, only what it had done. Five minutes in the hayloft ruined seventeen years of friendship. She refused to talk to him, wouldn’t even look at him or let him explain, even when he climbed the tree outside her window, panicked because he was leaving to track a demon the next morning and would be gone for weeks. When he finally cornered her, late that night, he got so flustered that he told her about her father, her past, and the empty grave.

He would never forget that, either, the hurt and shock, no ranting and railing, just numbness slipping over her face. His third mistake was letting her believe her father was in the CIA, not that she would have listened to him at that point. He didn’t sleep that night, but sat hunched by his window, staring across the field, long after her light went out. He woke up there, to a day as bleak as his future, not knowing that their spontaneous act of passion created a life inside Shay that would bring more loss and heartache.

Until a few days ago, that was the last time he saw her, except from a distance. Even though he’d known he couldn’t marry her until his duty was finished, several times over the years he’d parked outside her house, first in New York, then Scotland, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, sometimes to make sure she was safe, sometimes to see if he’d gotten her out of his head—which he hadn’t—and sometimes because he missed her so much he felt like he was suffocating. Occasionally, he saw her, laughing with her friends, hurrying in the rain; once or twice with a man. Cody had sat in the truck, his neck burning, wondering if she was happy, if she ever thought about him, if she remembered running in the woods, campouts, swimming in the lake. If she remembered the hayloft. Wondering if the bastard walking down the street with her, holding her hand, knew she belonged to him. Once, he got out, fists clenched, ready to throw her over his shoulder and take her home, but stopped, knowing if he told her about the mark and she accepted him, not only would he put her in danger, he would always question if it was for himself or out of duty.