Killer Temptation (6 page)

She laughed. When other children were adopted, it was Bill Withers' song that comforted them. Both girls had been bounced from foster home to foster home until at last, they settled in Tennessee Children’s Home and had been inseparable. Brianna had never known genuine loneliness until Kimmie left the orphanage with her new family.

“I remember. You were my first true sense of family.” Running into her old friend was like seeing a long-lost sister. She had nothing but cherished memories. Brianna blinked away a fresh set of tears. No, she was no longer a girl, but a woman.

“Same.” Kimmie’s smile was no different, the kind that tweaked in one corner. “Well, this is the last place I expected to see you. What are you doing here?”

Kimberly was pure human, but she must have ties with the supernatural. “I could ask the same of you. I’m here with my witch family.”

“Witches?” Kimmie cocked an eyebrow. “Nice. That must have been an interesting family to join.”

“Never a dull moment.” At ten years old, Brianna had been reserved when first coming into the Johnson family, but one-by-one they broke through her shell and she loved them all. They never hid the fact they were witches, not to her at least. To them she was a Johnson and their secret was hers.

“I’m here with my step-brother,” Kimberly chimed in, snagging her from her thoughts. “He’s human too, but his…girlfriend? Wife? However they classify it—she’s a vampire. By gosh, this is weird, talking about witches and vampires when not that long ago we were clueless of their existence.”

Ignorance is bliss
, if that was how the saying went. The unknown was easier to deal with. Being a part of the witch community became a competition, always striving to be the best sister, cousin and even girlfriend, just so she could fit in. As though pleasing everyone would compensate for her lack of supernatural powers. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m looking for my sister. I’ll come back, and we can exchange contact details before we leave.”

Kimberly smiled with enthusiasm. “That’d be great. Come back with your sister, I’d love to meet her.”

She gave her another long hug. “Sure thing.” Although, she doubted Kimmie would want to meet Rachel in her drunken state.

By the time she finished with the rows of tables on the right side of the room she had to meet back with Amber. Quickening her pace, she headed for the meeting spot. Amber stood with her hands clasped together, gaze dancing over the room.

“Amber!”

Her cousin turned, sighed and walked toward her. “Any luck?”

“No. I can guess you haven’t found her either.”

Her hair swung with the shake of her head. “No. I’ll keep trying.”

“Me too.” Brianna sidestepped her cousin and headed to the left side of the room.

Table check round two.
From one end to the other, she observed each table. Okay, so Rachel wasn’t seated at any. Where to next?

A waiter holding a silver tray of snails stepped in from outside. The sharp scent of garlic and butter whiffed past her nose as she passed him and hurried out onto the balcony. Old Victorian style lamps hung from the brick veneer walls, an outdoor glass table sat a few feet away, but no one perched on the surrounding iron chairs.

Again, she headed back inside, into the ladies room, and found Amber checking each stall. “No luck yet?”

She swung around with a shake of her head. “No. I’ve checked this restroom twice now.”

“Keep trying.” Brianna made her way out of the bathroom. Apprehension thrummed in her veins. Rachel was a big girl and she shouldn’t fret. There was one last place she hadn’t checked. The dread must be visible on her face, for several people kept their eyes on her as she hurried to the front entrance.

“Excuse me,” she said to the tall man who stood behind the desk. “I was wondering if my sister picked up her coat and mobile phone, should be in the name of Rachel Johnson.”

Tick-tatter sounded off the keyboard. Her gaze paused when spotting the half-moon tattoo along the inside of his wrist. Another werewolf. He grabbed a key from the drawer and smiled in an elegant manner. “If you give me a moment, I’ll just check the lockers.”

She nodded, and he disappeared into the room in the back. Moments later he returned with the same polite smile. “The locker is empty. She must have obtained her items.”

The colour drained from her face. Where would she have gone on her own? She swung away from the desk, eyes darting over the long entrance hall with its three main arched doorways. Again, she faced the wolf.

The clerk shot her a quizzical look. “Miss, are you okay?”

“I must find her.” Her voice shook as she forced the words out. “Please.”

He nodded, his smile weakened. “I’m the only one behind this desk tonight and many people have come and gone, but maybe you could describe her to me?”

“Yes, thank you. She’s about this tall,” she said, motioning her hand a little over her own height. “And she has big hazel eyes, long, curly, mahogany hair…oh and she was wearing a purple dress with a frilly material off one shoulder.”

His eyes widened in realisation. “She wouldn’t happen to have been carrying an empty bottle of Champagne?”

“Yes.” Trust Rachel to down the whole bottle herself.

“I remember seeing a woman about twenty minutes ago. I handed over her items before she left.”

Thank goodness. “Did she say where she was going?”

The clerk frowned. “No, but she left through that exit.” He pointed to the door closest to them.

“Thank you,” she called back as she headed for the front. Perhaps her sister had enough for the night and chose to take a taxi back to the hotel. With any luck, maybe the car had not yet arrived and she could catch Rachel.

The night air was cool and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. From a distance, the screech of wheels and roaring engines wailed. The scent of gasoline filled the air with the slightest hint of sea salt. The tall building blocked her view of the beach, but the waves crashing along the shore echoed from a distance.

The road in front of her was empty and dark, with only the golden glow of the streetlights to help her see. Cars parked along the curb on both sides of the street. She took the stairs two at a time, looking left and right. The pathway stretched out, but she could not see past the darkness. “Dammit, where are you?” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Female laughter echoed from a short distance. She straightened at the sound. The laugh was familiar…

There it was again. Could that be Rachel? Following the noise, she turned a corner onto…an alley? A stack of boxes and a dumpster lay before her, but further up ahead two shadows under the dim streetlight caught her attention. Rachel leaned against the side of the wall with some tall man’s tongue down her throat.

Brianna saw red. All that worry had been for naught. Rachel was here, she was safe. A part of her considered separating the little duo so she could yell at her sister for causing such unnecessary stress, but she could not embarrass Rachel that way. She wouldn’t have liked if someone had interrupted her and Tristan tonight.

Her cheeks grew hot at the memory. She stepped back, leaving Rachel and her lover alone. She could at least seek out Amber and share the good news. But as she took another backward step she frowned at the figure holding her sister. The streetlight they stood beneath shone against dark blonde hair that was short and so very familiar.

No, couldn’t be.
The man’s head fell back with a groan as Rachel laid little kisses along the column of his throat. The glow of the light now crossed his features.

Tristan
.

The man who had held her in his arms less than an hour ago now kissed her sister. Blood stained his mouth, and she frowned. Was that her blood from earlier or fresh blood from Rachel? He nipped Rachel’s neck and she purred a husky laugh.

Bile rose in her throat. Her nauseated stomach lurched and she feared throwing up. Tristan held Rachel against the wall, his nose nuzzling her before biting into her flesh…just as he had done with her.

Don’t stand here, run away you silly fool.
Unable to blink, or avert her gaze, hell, she couldn’t even budge.

Through the devastating shock, she registered the sudden change in the air. When had her sister’s laughter stopped? The continuous slurping and swallowing noises he made was the only sound audible. He stepped away from the wall, and…
Good gosh!
Rachel sank to the ground in a motionless heap. Tristan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, brows set into a firm furrow. He shut his eyes and…faded. His body grew transparent until he disappeared altogether.

A harsh sob erupted and broke Brianna out of her frozen state. She staggered over to the limp body. Blood, so much blood stained Rachel’s mouth, neck and over the front of her dress.

Brianna screamed, loud and long. Breathless, it faded to an agonised cry. She fell to her knees, grazing them along the rough asphalt. Shaky fingers extended, covered in the warm, sticky blood as she checked her sister for a pulse. There was none.

“Rachel! Rachel!” She shook Rachel’s shoulders, urging her to awaken. The coppery scent of blood was pungent and stifling. She would wake up. She had to. Rachel must be tricking her—something her sister loved doing when they were younger—and any moment now she’d sit up and shout “boo.”

Another cry escaped her mouth, this one longer.

Please wake up. Please shout boo.
Cold—still—silence remained. Flashbacks of the past shot across her mind like a dozen spotlights. Rachel giving her a shy smile, then a big hug when she was first brought home. Rachel punching Zach Miller on the school playground when he teased Brianna for being adopted. Rachel, burning Brianna’s eyebrows with hot wax by accident the night before her big date with Matthew Fratelli.

No, please, God. No!

The quick click of high heels hurried toward them. Amber ran up the alley. “Bri, is that you? Oh, Gosh. Rachel!” Amber’s shaky fingers raked her hair as her wide gaze fell on the motionless body. “What happened? Is she okay? Brianna, tell me she’s okay.”

She stared at her sister then Amber. Tears ran down her face, hot like acid, and irritating her skin. It took a few harsh swallows to be rid of the painful lump in her throat before she could speak and choke out the horrid words. “She’s dead. Rachel is dead.”

Chapter 4

"I can’t." Amber paced barefoot in front of the small TV of their hotel room, hands raking through her hair, eyes darting along the carpet, and teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “You know it’s forbidden. I’d get in deep trouble.”

True. The spell should not be used for vengeance. Its purpose was for those who were ill and wished for a quick demise. Many witches made an oath to follow the regulation. Well, she wasn’t a witch, and to hell with the rules.

One week had passed since her sister's death, since that bastard, Tristan, drank Rachel dry. She expected the urge for revenge to be persistent, but not this volatile. Every muscle she owned ached, pleading to see him, begging for revenge. No longer able to ignore these urges, she’d decided to act. She’d grown up surrounded by the supernatural, aware of the creatures living amongst humans and also mindful of how insignificant she was compared to their strength. With no weapon against the enemy, her wit must be her power. After all, she was human, not incompetent.

“Besides, I haven’t seen a spell like that done in years,” her cousin added.

“What about Grandpa?”

Amber nodded, pointing her finger as if Brianna should know better. “Yes, but he was old, struggled to eat and suffered. The only reason Grandma performed the spell was because he pleaded with her.”

Okay, she understood. Amber didn’t want to break any laws, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. And aren’t rules meant to be broken from time to time?

Yeah, tell that to the witches.
“What about Rachel? She did not ask for this? Yet, she was murdered.”

Amber’s pacing increased, shuffling along the cream carpet from one side of the small room to the other. "Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I can. I'm not as good as Lucas with spells."

The contrast of the peach-coloured room made her cousin’s pale complexion seem stark white. Amber wrung the hem of her baggy singlet and shook her head, no doubt convincing herself not to go through with it.

No
. Even if it took the rest of her life, she would avenge her sister. She clutched the pillow, forced herself to sit on the bed instead of marching over to her cousin and shaking some sense into her.

"Amber, you’re all I have left, and my only hope. Besides, your brother is home. He rang earlier and told me Rachel's body arrived at Knoxville Mortuary." A slight tremble shook her chin and tears stung her eyes, close to spilling. He must pay. He would pay.

“This is so dangerous, especially for you.”

Because she was human? Liquid heat shot through her veins. She wasn’t weak. For the first time in twenty-five years she felt invincible. More reason she should murder the man who took her sister’s life. The man she’d fallen for. The man she’d had sex with.
Damn him
. If only she could turn back the clock. She had been captivated by Tristan, so swept off her feet by his amiable French accent and chiselled good looks that she hadn’t seen him for who and what he really was. A monster.

Guilt shivered through her system. Why had he drunk so much from Rachel and not her? He’d consumed her blood also, but perhaps didn’t take enough, and thought to compensate with his next victim. She’d give anything to trade places with her sister. If he had satisfied his thirst, then Rachel would have been safe.

"Please," Brianna begged, tempted to sink to her knees. She must make her understand.

Amber stopped pacing and turned toward her. Dark shadows marked beneath her eyes, and her strawberry-blonde hair didn't seem as vibrant as usual. Then again, she too must look like hell. Ever since Rachel's death, they had wallowed in this cramped hotel room, miserable and mourning. She could not remember the last time she ate a decent meal. The half-eaten chocolate bar on the kitchen table didn’t count.