Of A Darker Nature (31 page)

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “I already knew about your so-called talents, your boyfriend’s extortion, and your parent’s death before I came to babysit.”

The surprised look on Emily’s face melted into something akin to embarrassment and fury. He supposed she hadn’t expected him to be so technically savvy. He stabbed a finger at Isabella. “And you. If you want to know something, come ask me next time. Don’t send one of your lackeys.”

“But you lie.” Isabella frowned and crossed her arms in a childish manner. “You never tell me anything.”

He laughed though it held no amusement. “This isn’t about you, you stupid bitch.”

Jai Li and Corey seemed to be at a loss for words. Their wide eyes conveyed their bewilderment.

Isabella opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off once again. “After this is over, no matter the outcome, you will release me. I no longer wish to be part of your blood-clan.”

“I will never allow you to leave. You are mine!” Isabella’s words were heated, but her expression showed the panic and rejection she felt.

Marcus considered this. “I would rather meet the sunrise than spend one more moment with you.”

Emily stepped forward and gripped his arm. He read fear, panic, and pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Marcus. She threatened my sister. Surely you can understand why I had to read you.” His gaze narrowed on her hand, and she quickly withdrew it. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Instead of commenting, he moved toward the front of the car. “Grab a car, Jai Li. You're coming with me.”

Jai Li got into a sedan, and Marcus opened the driver’s door of the Corvette.

Corey moved closer to Marcus and spoke urgently, but quietly. “I know you’re mad, but do you really want her to read those bodies? She feels everything, remember?”

Marcus flicked his gaze toward Watts and the missing half of his head. His heart gave a lurch in his chest. He hated like hell to put her through that.

When he answered, he didn't dare glance at Emily. “Yeah, do it.”

“What do you want me to do with Emily when we’re done?” Corey didn’t make any lewd suggestions. Mostly, he just looked tired and scared.

“Bring her to Red Door. She can't be left alone.” Marcus regarded Emily’s pale, withdrawn face. “Be careful. Starr has made her move, and she might come for Emily too.”

Emily buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. It tore him to pieces to see her this way. If he stayed any longer, he might forget his anger and rush to hold her.

Marcus started the car instead. He told himself that he didn’t have time to contemplate Emily’s wounded emotions, or his own for that matter. Somehow he made himself drive away.

“That girl cannot be trusted. I believed you were smart enough not to allow her to seduce you,” Isabella said with a disappointed sigh.

Marcus was quite exhausted all of the sudden. “Shut the hell up, you old hag.”

Isabella grinned at him, her fangs flashing. He had known from the very start that her concern for Evan’s well-being was an act. She had become adept at calling forth tears at a moment’s notice. He’d witnessed it many times before. No, Evan could be dead for all she cared. The part that bothered Isabella was the fact that Starr had taken something from her. The tears looked good, but if they hadn’t worked, she would have resorted to her usual tantrums and threats.

John Degas, the local werewolf pack leader, greeted Marcus at the front door of his home. He’d grown a beard, and his hair was longer than the last time he’d seen him. He looked like he’d just gotten off work because he was still wearing a pair of jeans, work boots and a faded blue shirt.

Together, they scouted the property, looking for anyone who shouldn’t be there. Marcus had accepted the pack leader's house as home base. It sat nestled in a gated community and was much smaller than what Isabella was used to. It would be easier to defend against another attack.

“It’s a shame about what happened. Evan was a nice guy, despite his blood ties.”

Marcus cut his gaze in Degas’ direction, not liking what was left unspoken.

They walked along the paved driveway. Guards—shifters and otherwise—had been posted inside and around the house. No one would come or go unless he or Degas gave acknowledgment.

“This witch is crafty. I’ve had my best people on it, and we’ve not been able to sniff out her hiding place. The only thing I can figure is that she moves around a lot. Or maybe she's figured out a way to hide her scent.”

Marcus nodded. “She has her coven do most of the dirty work. That makes it’s hard to trace it back to her.”

“I suppose we should have been working together on this all along. Maybe things can change between the pack and your kind.” Degas rolled the sleeves of his blue work shirt up to his elbows. A howling wolf’s head was inked onto his forearm.

Marcus stole a glance at the house. He sincerely doubted anything would change between the shrinking vampire clan and shifter communities, at least not while Isabella was in control and sabotaging the situation.

“I know it tears her up to ask for our help.” Degas indicated an upstairs window and Isabella’s shadow that passed across it. “But I have to admit it’ll be nice working with you again, old man. I’ve encouraged my pack to let bygones be bygones. My brother nearly destroyed the respect we’ve worked so hard for. I believe they understand your enforcers had no choice but to arrest him. I haven’t forgotten all that you’ve personally done for us.”

Though it had been a while, Marcus had helped Degas resolve a few pack tribulations. Aside from his brother, the latest had been about three years ago. A rival pack from one of the neighboring cities had taken a newborn. Marcus negotiated the infant’s safe return.

He clapped his friend on the back. “Same.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him back. I’ve got my best wolves on it.” Marcus’s worried expression must have conveyed his lack of confidence. Degas added, “I’ve weeded out the witch’s converts, and I’ve brought in people I trust with my life. We may not agree with everything the mistress of the city does, but our kind realizes we’d be pretty bad off without some sense of government. The elder pack members have respect for you and appreciate all you’ve done to help us.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Degas cocked his head and studied Marcus. “Whether you realize it or not, Scott has been a very helpful advocate on that front.”

Marcus shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t used to people coming to his aid. “I guess I’ll have to thank him.”

“Tread carefully my friend. He knows you've been sleeping with that human girl. He's very protective of her.”

“It’s over.”

The smile melted, and Degas seemed to realize that was the only explanation he would get. Degas pursed his lips before saying, “Have you ever considered overthrowing Isabella? I understand your limitations with her being your sire and all, but surely you can see that she’s losing her mind.”

Marcus gave him a sharp look of warning. Of course, he thought of it almost daily, but it wasn’t as simple as Degas made it seem.

Degas seemed reluctant to let it go. “Don’t you ever worry that someone else will come along and do it?”

“This is a conversation for another time.” Marcus grimaced. He had no idea where to start. “Meet me at Red Door in an hour. I’m going to hit the streets, see if I can rattle a few cages.”

“Don’t worry. We won’t let you down.”

Marcus drove past the guardhouse and the gate. Two of Degas’ pack members waved him through. Both looked as glum as he felt. Once he reached the road, he turned right and headed into the heart of downtown.

The woman with purple streaked hair tucked a large tote bag beneath her arm before pulling her apartment door shut. She secured the door and double checked the locks. Wren Peterson didn’t live in the best neighborhood. Therefore, he didn’t consider the extra precaution odd in the least. Tonight, however, even her double locks would not save her from him.

Marcus watched her take the steps two at a time. She seemed to be in a hurry, probably had somewhere important to be. A meeting with the head witch perhaps? The scowl on her face left him unsure of whether she was determined or full of dread.

He decided to follow. Perhaps this woman could lead him to where they held Evan.

Wren got into a banged up car and backed out of the lot. He followed her down the street, minding the distance between their cars.

His target stopped at
Atrum
Natura,
a new age shop located downtown. He waited down the block while she went inside. Within minutes, she returned. She looked nervous as she quickly got back into her car and drove away.

“What are you up to, little bird?” He pulled into Red Door’s parking lot moments behind her. He got out of his vehicle and moved a little closer to where she had parked.

Wren got out of the car and opened the back door to remove something small from the bag. She slipped it into her pocket and headed toward the building.

He allowed her to take a few steps before moving out of the shadows. He hooked an arm with hers and forced her to walk alongside him. Her body stiffened, and he hissed a warning.

“What do you want?” Wren’s voice wavered, belying the challenge in her words.

“Tell me where they’re holding him.”

She whirled away from him, and sandaled feet pounded against the pavement.

A savage instinct overtook Marcus. He salivated at the idea of catching and stealing her life. He caught her within seconds. He grabbed the back of her shift dress and threw her against the trunk of a blue Nissan. The tinkle of broken glass and the satisfying sound of her breath escaping her lungs made him smile.

“My charms!” A wet spot formed on the front pocket of her dress.

The scent of her fear mingled with his anger. It was almost enough to push him over the edge. A strange, diseased scent that seemed to hang all around Wren reigned in his hunger. “Where are they keeping him?”

“I'm not sure.” She struggled against him, doing her best to squirm away. “Get off me!”

Marcus straightened, but kept a hand on her shoulder. A thin trickle of blood ran from Wren’s bottom lip. He forced himself not to focus on it.

“What are you doing here?”

Wren bravely maintained eye contact with him. “I was looking for you.”

"It must be your lucky night." It wasn’t quite the answer he expected. He hid his surprise by narrowing his eyes instead. “You found me.”

“I need to speak with Emily too.”

Was it just his imagination or had dark circles appeared beneath the woman’s eyes? Her skin had taken on a sickly pallor, and her body didn’t seem as robust as before. “She’s waiting inside. Move.”

Wren shrugged away from him. “You made me bite my tongue and you broke my charms!”

Marcus growled, dragging her away from the car by the front of the dress. His hunger surged, and it showed in his eyes. Wren cringed.

“What's wrong with you?” The scent of her illness drifted to him again. It was nothing he recognized.

“I'm dying, asshole.”

He gave her another shove toward the building. “Now or later, you decide.”

Emily accepted Corey’s outstretched hand, and they weaved through the crowded, smoke-filled club. He’d been mostly silent since leaving the mansion and that had her worried.

He led her to a dark V.I.P. table near the back, away from the biggest portion of the crowd. A waitress in a short black dress appeared. Both declined the offer to bring them a drink. The second time she came around, Emily asked for water and Corey ordered beer. Mostly, she figured he just wanted something to do with his hands.

The somber vampire sitting next to her continually scanned the crowd in search of a familiar face. He sighed after a while and peeled the label from the bottle.

“Why does Marcus want me here? He knows I have limitations.” She was exhausted by the roller coaster of emotions she had experienced tonight. She had read a few of the witch's fallen allies and what she'd discovered was worrisome. She saved Watts for last. She hadn't wanted to experience his death until the very end. The after effects of reading him were beginning to wear off, but she still had a headache.

Her companion lifted a shoulder and grimaced. “How should I know? But I’d do whatever he asks if I were you. He’s pissed off. Evan and Marcus are close, you know?”

Yeah, she knew.

Corey’s dark eyes flicked away to search the crowd once more. “Marcus is going to blame me if something happens to him.” He shoved fingers through his hair. “I should have done more. If I hadn't been hurt, I might’ve been able to keep them from taking him.”

Even though Corey put on a brave face, he sounded just as scared as she was. She squeezed his hand in her own and tried to find a reassuring smile. She recalled a glimpse of a memory she’d seen yesterday in Marcus’s room. He cared for Corey, trusted him and felt responsible for the kid. Marcus gave Corey his own blood when he’d nearly died. She’d felt his emotions like they were her own. “He won’t blame you, Corey.”

He tipped the bottle to his lips and winced at the alcohol’s sting. “I hope you're right.”

The crappy band at the other end of the building started up again after a short break. The crowd surged to life, swaying and gyrating to the angry beat of the music. In a way, it was hypnotic, watching all those people lose themselves to the rhythm.

The crowd parted, allowing newcomers to pass through. From their depths came a couple of familiar faces. One wore determination while the other donned a terrified expression.

Wren looked like death. Her body had taken on a skeletal appearance, complete with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. The purple streaks in her hair looked drab and washed out. Each movement was slow and deliberate as if the mere twitch of a muscle hurt her.

Emily tried to get up, but Corey grabbed her arm and forced her to remain seated. “Not so fast. I got in big trouble last time for letting you run off.”

Marcus shoved Wren into a seat.

Emily frowned at her scraped shoulder and frightened expression. Had he hurt Wren because he was mad at her? “What did you do?”

He snarled in answer. Before she could say more, Scott and another man dressed in jeans and a blue work shirt joined them. The man thrust his hand toward her, a toothy smile on his bearded face. “John Degas.”

Emily accepted his outstretched hand and introduced herself.

Degas cocked his head, gray eyes narrowing. His nostrils flared, taking in her scent then his gaze flicked in Marcus's direction with what appeared to be approval. Marcus looked away.

Scott sat next to Emily. “What’s going on? Has anyone heard anything?”

Wren shifted in her chair. “I have to go before someone sees me hanging out with you guys.” Her expression took on one of fierce determination. “Starr has Isabella’s grandson.”

Wren held up a hand to ward off any questions or outbursts. “I don’t know where she took him. I overheard a few of the guys talking and can only tell you what they said. They’re going to make a trade— Isabella for Evan. They think Marcus cares enough about him to betray her.”

The words had barely escaped her lips before Marcus said, “No trade.”

Wren’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Scott and Degas kept their eyes downcast, seeming to know it was Marcus’s call to make. Corey looked like he wanted to say something.

Though Marcus hid his feelings well, it must have been torturing him to make such a decision. Emily reached for his hand. “Marcus…”

“No trade,” he repeated a bit more forcefully. “The witch will destroy her. This will cause a war between the masters of the surrounding cities. Everyone will fight for control of Isabella’s area.”

“Her second choice is Emily. Starr knows Emily holds the key to using the ley line. If she isn’t handed over, Starr will take her by force.” Wren clasped Emily’s trembling fingers in her own, a sincere look of concern on her pallid face. “She’s going to kill you during the Beltane celebration. That’s when she’ll perform the ritual.”

She stole a glance at Marcus and her breath caught in her throat. He honestly looked like he was considering the deal!

His eyes narrowed on her, taking on a cavalier appearance. “And did they mention when or where this trade would go down?”

Scott stood and put his hands on the table. “Find another way. We’re not trading her either.”

Wren shook her head. “I suspect it’ll be near Emily’s place so they can move onto it once the spell is broken. Starr has to be near the ley line to manipulate it. Look, I don’t believe she’d actually give the grandson up. He’s too good a bargaining chip. Starr wants both, Isabella and Emily.”

“Why should we trust you? You’re one of her coven,” Degas shot back. “C’mon, Marcus! How can you believe anything this woman says? The witch probably sent her here.”

Wren met Emily's gaze. “Starr put a sickness spell on me. Doctors can’t find anything wrong physically, but I'm dying. Starr promised to help me. That’s the only reason I assisted her before.” 

“Do you think she’ll cure you?” Emily gripped Wren’s hand in her own.

“Starr thinks my ability to whip up potions and charms is something to keep close at hand. I can hide the outward appearance with my charms, but until I find a way to break her spell, I’ll continue to die. The bitch said she’d cure me if I help, but I don’t believe her. Besides, I couldn't live with myself if she hurt Emily.”

Scott looked shocked. “My god, Wren! Why didn’t you say something?”

She shrugged. “What good would it do?”

Degas was unconvinced. “What have you done for her?”

She afforded Marcus a sheepish look. “Sorry about the other night. Those were my charmed bullets.”

“Nice piece of work.” Marcus arched a dark eyebrow. “Almost punched my ticket.”

Wren had the grace to look embarrassed. “All I know is she wants it to happen around Beltane. I'm sorry I don’t know more specifics. She kind of keeps me in the dark.”

“What’s Beltane?” Corey’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s a celebration to welcome the approach of summer. We observe the union of the God and Goddess, new life, fertility and stuff like that. I guess Starr is going for a new life slant.” Wren grimaced. “She’s bastardizing our Sabbat.”

“We can’t trust that you won’t turn on us.” Suspicion narrowed the band of blue in Marcus’s eyes. “If she promises to cure you…”

“I hate the bitch. She has to be stopped. She isn't going to cure me, we all know that. She's laying low to conserve as much strength and power as she can. I suspect it took a lot out of her tonight when she hit your hiding place. She’ll have to recharge a bit.” She tilted her wrist to peer at the glow-in-the-dark watch. “Look, I gotta go. I’m sure someone has seen me talking to you guys and will tell her. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Wren stood and gave Emily’s shoulder a squeeze before she hurried away.

Degas twisted in his seat and tilted his head toward Wren. A short, brunette pushed away from the wall and followed the witch through the crowd. He must have noticed Emily’s worried glance because he said, “She’s just going to follow her, make sure she doesn’t meet up with Starr.”

Emily didn’t know if she could trust this explanation or not. Knowing she had no choice in the matter disabled any argument she had. “So, what are we going to do?”

“There isn’t a whole lot we can do.” Marcus leveled his gaze on her. “The witch is making the calls now. We have to wait for her to tell us what the rules are.”

Degas shook everyone’s hand, including Emily’s. “I'm going to go make sure everything is okay with Isabella. She had one of the boys rearranging my furniture when I left. Guess she didn't like the feng shui or whatever. See you guys later.”

Marcus's expression was unreadable. “Corey, why don't you and Scott see if you can round up some of the usual suspects? I'd like to see if we can't shake a few answers out of them.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Marcus, I wanted to tell you, but couldn’t.” 

He rolled his shoulders and glared at her. “I suppose saying something along the lines of ‘Isabella paid me to read you’ never crossed your mind?”

She opened her mouth to say something in defense, but clamped it shut again. What could she possibly say to ease the hurt?

“I hope she got her money’s worth.” Marcus pushed Corey’s unfinished bottle across the table. “How does it feel to be Isabella’s whore?”

“Marcus, I…”

“What exactly did she pay you to look for?” His eyes were downcast now, studying his hands atop the table. “What did you see?”

Emily took his hands and was surprised when he didn’t pull away. “I saw a man who has endured a lot of undeserved pain. A man who stands up for who and what he believes in and does what he feels is necessary, even though it may cause him sorrow.”

Marcus shook his hands from her grasp. His agitation felt alien to Emily like it wasn’t merely anger he felt, but something more.

Emily fingered the heart at her throat. “I wasn’t going to tell her anything. Not after I got to know you. I care about you too much.”

“You took her money.” His voice was full of accusation and hurt. “You'll tell her whatever she wants to protect your sister.”

“What am I supposed to do? Besides, you weren’t truthful with me either.” They stared at each other for several seconds before she found her voice again. “Please, can’t we just start over?”

She wanted—no, needed—to say more, but didn’t get the chance. Corey and Scott returned with a scruffy looking guy in tow. Emily spent the next hour and a half listening to them question people. 

The crowd dwindled into the early morning hours. Marcus took Scott and Corey aside in the parking lot. Emily tried to remain subjective.

“The two of you will accompany her home. Don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll be with Degas, putting together a team and getting things ready. We’ve got to get this right. I’ll see you after dark.”

“We need to talk about this.” Emily wished she could get a few minutes alone with him. Even though they’d only known each other for a short while, she didn’t want to imagine life without him.

“There's nothing to talk about.” Marcus shied away from her outstretched hand. He dropped into his car and disappeared into the night.

Emily was close to tears. Despair wound its way around her heart. She wanted to run after him and scream his name.
Damn it, didn’t he understand she was in love with him? Didn’t he care at all?

Scott threw a supportive arm around her shoulders and led her to his car. Corey trudged along behind them, quiet and lost in thought. 

The sun was close to rising by the time they pulled up in front of the house. Corey did a quick check of the property and surrounding area before he called it a night. He tucked himself into Marcus’s bed, but not before inviting her to join him.

Scott helped himself to a sandwich then joined her on the couch where she had curled with an old blanket. Though the television was on, she paid no attention to the images flickering across it.

Scott waited a bit before he tore into her. “I told you nothing good could come out of your arrangement with Isabella. You should have turned her down and kicked Marcus out before this got out of hand.”

“Butt out, okay?” The vehemence she’d aimed for didn’t make it into her voice. She allowed her head to fall back against the cushion and squeezed her eyes shut.