They walked to the door abreast of each other.
The hell of it was, Elijah understood why she’d want the distance, and he understood that it was the information he’d dug up about Charron’s killers that had altered her plans. If she’d bothered to talk with him about it, he would’ve told her he didn’t care if she was attracted to him for info, sex, or access to the lycans—anything could serve as a foundation for a relationship between them, something he’d decided he had to pursue because he couldn’t keep his hands or his mind off her.
What troubled him was the hour or so they’d spent together after they’d sated their hunger for each other. An hour during which they’d gone over the composition of the teams. An hour during which she hadn’t said a goddamn word about shoving him off on someone else. He’d even asked her point blank what it was she had wanted to talk to him about and she’d evaded the question with a breezy reply.
As Salem had said, they had nothing if she wasn’t going to talk to him.
“Where are we headed?” he asked as they stepped outside.
“Seattle.”
With an earsplitting whistle, Elijah stopped two Jeeps that were pulling out of the lot. He approached the first driver and asked for her team’s orders, then switched them with the team in the car behind them. He tossed Raze’s orders into the mix so that all three teams were reassigned. Then he reminded the lycans that his cell phone number was programmed in their contact lists.
“Don’t hesitate to call me,” he said to each team, “for anything. Even if you just want to talk, I’m here for you.”
As the two SUVs resumed their exit from the lot, Elijah glanced at his new partner. “Now we’re going to Shreveport.”
Which was apropos, since it was Nikki’s abduction from the city that had first brought him to Vash’s attention and vice versa. Micah had been mortally wounded there, tortured by Vash in an effort to glean Elijah’s identity and location.
“You think she’ll come looking for you,” the vamp surmised.
He tossed his duffel in the backseat of the Jeep Raze selected. No reply was necessary, so Elijah didn’t give one.
“You’re holding yourself in high esteem, Alpha.”
Raze slid behind the wheel. “But after what she did for you yesterday, I guess you have a right to.”
“Mind your own business,” he warned without heat. “She’s safe with me.”
The vampire pulled out of the lot, leaving a small sand cloud in their wake. “There’s an off chance I might come to like you.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“Yeah…I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“We need to get that cooler to Grace.” Vash jerked her chin at the red and white ice chest on Syre’s desk.
He lifted the lid and frowned at the contents. “What’s all this?”
“The stuff we used to transfuse Lindsay’s blood into Elijah.”
Syre’s gaze met hers. “You’re suspicious. Because Adrian sent her instead of a bag of blood?”
“I saw his eyes when I had a knife to her throat. He’d bleed for her and wouldn’t think twice. So why didn’t he?” She paced. “I wish I knew what she’d said to him while I was knocked out in the back of the car.”
“You think she talked him into letting her come. Why?”
“I know she did. And she did it for him, of course. Hasn’t everything she’s done been for him?”
“But wasn’t this as much about the Alpha?”
“Yeah, she came for Elijah, too.” Her hands fisted and she clasped them behind her back to hide the telltale movement. “But that wouldn’t have been enough
for Adrian to let her go. There’s something else. After all, what she gave us was pretty much Adrian’s blood, filtered. Why was that acceptable and not the pure stuff? I’m hoping Grace can figure it out.”
Closing the cooler, Syre leaned back against his desk and tracked her movements with his gaze. “Grace is busy researching the Wraith Virus.”
“Then we get someone else. We need more lab rats anyway. Every day that passes, the infection spreads. If we don’t get a lid on this, we’re going to give Adrian the excuse he needs to take us all out. We need to test lycan blood as well. The wraiths were all over Elijah. They completely ignored me and Salem, but ingesting El’s blood killed them. I know we want a cure, but we may not have the luxury of one. We may need to take the infected down for damage control, and if lycan blood is poisonous to them, we should know that.”
“I’ll look into some suitable ‘lab rat’ candidates. As for lycan blood, it could be the touch of demon in them that’s the culprit.”
“Well, there’s an endless supply of demons. If we need to test them, too, I’ll round some up when I get back.”
“You’re heading out?”
She stopped pacing and told him about Elijah’s queries to Adrian.
“And Adrian just gave up this information voluntarily?” Syre crossed his arms. “To the very lycan who’s weakened his position so drastically?”
“I’m sure Lindsay argued on Elijah’s behalf. Again.”
“She’s that close to the Alpha? Is there something between them?”
Vash exhaled harshly. “Friendship. Adrian would’ve killed him if it was anything else. Actually, maybe they’re more like family—siblings or close cousins. She gave up her mortal life to be with Adrian; I can’t imagine she had many close ties to be able to do that so easily. And Elijah…he’s somewhat of a lone wolf. He’s a hands-on leader, but he doesn’t share so much as he supports. What few friends he has are valuable to him.”
He’d kill for them. Was planning on killing her for one of them. That Lindsay was one of the rare and fortunate people to occupy that inner circle in Elijah’s life irritated Vash to no end. Knowing there was nothing romantic involved didn’t stem her irrational jealousy. And thinking about just how much Micah must have meant to Elijah sent acidic surges of guilt through her. She’d learned long ago not to nurse regrets. It was too dangerous to do so when living an endless life. But hurting Elijah as she had…for a crime he’d turned out to be innocent of…it ate at her.
“So you’re taking him with you to Huntington?” Syre asked.
“Yes. I told you my price in the beginning—I’d round him up for you, but I get what I need from him, too.”
His mouth curved. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’ll check in and keep you apprised. It shouldn’t
take long.” She was eager to get going. Not just to get the task done but to work alongside Elijah. In the tasks they’d tackled together so far, he’d balanced her. Leveled her out. And she’d done the same for him. They worked well together.
It was his more intimate effect on her that knocked her off kilter.
“Be careful, Vashti. And watchful for traps. His authority is still being established, and he’ll be challenged often. I don’t want you caught in the crosshairs. No one wants to see what I’d do if something happened to you.”
She caught his hand and squeezed, grateful for him and his faith in her, something that must have been hard to maintain in the years since Charron died.
Opening the office door, she strode out into an eerily quiet warehouse. Not a soul moved in the cavernous space and while it might have been possible that Elijah was in one of the offices, she knew right away he was gone. She felt the void, and her stomach knotted, a reaction that set off her temper. She wasn’t mad that he’d left—it didn’t take a genius to figure out what must have unfolded while she was distracted—but it infuriated her that it rocked her to find him gone. It stung that he had been able to leave without a fight after she’d struggled with just the thought of it.
Grabbing a set of car keys off the wall rack, Vash was halfway to the door when it opened and the next busload of lycans poured in, brought to her courtesy of Salem, who’d headed out before dawn to pick them up.
“Fuckin’ A.” She was trapped until she and Salem
could get the new teams squared away. Elijah had plugged in his suggestions for team compositions that morning, which would save her time, but there was no way she’d catch him before his flight left the ground.
Her anger simmering, she hung the keys back up and got to work.
E
lijah knew something was off the moment he turned his rental vehicle onto a residential street in a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of Shreveport, Louisiana. Although it was early evening, he thought there were too many cars in evidence, especially considering how few lights were on in the homes. When he unfolded from the economy sedan, his sense of unease deepened.
It was too quiet. Almost deathly so. No birds chirping, no dogs barking, no television sets or radios. With his hearing, he should be hearing toilets flushing, people chatting, dinner simmering.
Rolling his shoulders back, he repeated what Lindsay had said when they’d first arrived in Hurricane, Utah, moments before they’d found a nest of wraiths: “This place crawls.”
“Shit.” Raze looked at him over the roof of the car. “I was hoping it was just me.”
“Bound to catch a snag at some point.”
“Thought we’d already done that,” Raze groused.
Elijah grinned. They’d hit the ground running, renting a car at the airport and heading immediately to the home of the vampire who’d first called in a concern to Syre. That visit had introduced them to a very pretty male vamp who went by the name of Minolo. The leggy blond had buzzed them into his UV-blocked apartment and proceeded to serve lemon cookies and tea in floral cups with saucers. Minolo had taken an instant shine to Raze, and over the hour they’d stayed to conduct the interview, the vamp had flirted and fluttered his mascara-coated lashes at Vashti’s captain with warm invitation.
“Not interested,” Raze had growled finally.
“I can fix that, sugar,” the blond shot back with a saucy wink.
Elijah had stepped in then, just to avoid bloodshed, redirecting Minolo’s attention to the reason they’d come. They’d learned it was an interview conducted by the local authorities that first roused Minolo’s suspicions. He’d waylaid the investigation into the disappearance of a former lover with a bit of vampire mind compulsion; then he’d started digging around on his own. Minolo was the gossip center of the area’s vampire community, and it hadn’t taken more than a couple of days to ascertain that several vampires he was familiar with were no longer being seen around town.
Elijah and Raze’s subsequent five-hour canvas of the city had turned up enough information to let them know there was definitely a problem in Shreveport.
They’d worked their way outward from Minolo’s residence in an ever-widening circle, interviewing the neighbors of vamps gone missing.
Most of the minions they’d inquired after worked nights, so their neighbors had scant opportunity to observe their comings and goings. In those cases, he and Raze would appear to drive away, only to return shortly after to enter those residences on the sly. They checked out the interiors and found empty homes, which led to a grim conclusion—there were too many minions whose whereabouts were unaccounted for in the bright light of day.
But the subdivision they’d just driven into was by far the most concerning.
“We’ll need backup,” Elijah said. “At the very least, the two minions we’ve got coming in on the red-eye to take the nightshift, but ideally more than that. I’d say a team of a dozen or more.”
“Want to reconnoiter? We’ve got a bit of daylight now.”
“Won’t help. We had daylight in Vegas and three of us.”
Raze rubbed a hand over his shaved head. “I hate walking away. Makes me feel like a pussy.”
“I don’t like it either, but it’s best. Trust me.” Elijah got back into the car. “We’ll hit up the tech team to access the layout of this subdivision and we’ll get a plan in place for tomorrow.”
“Fuck.” Raze took another look around. “All right.”
Elijah didn’t discount how easily the vamp had ceded to the advice of a lycan. Whether that was
because he was banging Raze’s commanding officer or because of his own merits, he couldn’t say, but he’d take it for now. Eventually they would all trust him. Because he’d earn it.
They headed back to the motel, changed into jeans and T-shirts, and decided to make dinner easy by hitting up the adjacent restaurant on foot. They’d chosen to stay in a rural area, far from the city. Pine forest surrounded the uninspired motel they were bedding down in, which Elijah found soothing, something his mood needed after hitting a road bump with Vash. Every minute that passed brought him closer to their inevitable confrontation. He was ready for it now, on edge because of a fruitless hunt and the aggravation of separation.
Settling into a booth, he ordered two of the house special and a beer. As the waitress walked away, he and Raze leaned back to size each other up, something they’d avoided doing earlier because the job came first.
Elijah took special care with his examination, having learned that Vashti rarely went anywhere without Raze or Salem—usually both—in tow. Both vampire captains were big for their kind; the Fallen were usually slender and elegantly built, their bodies having been made for flight. Salem was the bigger of the two, towering at a good six feet six inches and easily two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. Raze was similar to Elijah’s size of six feet three inches and a solid two hundred and twenty pounds.
But Vashti was a powerful woman, tall and leanly muscular, a renowned expert with all weaponry. She
didn’t need bodyguards. And from a resources standpoint, it didn’t seem wise for Syre to tie three of his best Fallen together.
“So what’s your story, Alpha?” Raze drawled. While Elijah wasn’t much of a judge when it came to male attractiveness, he’d noted the number of female glances that followed the vamp when he had stepped outside to take a call.
“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”
Raze snorted. “I suppose you want me to focus on my story as it relates to Vash.”
He didn’t deny it. “She carries a lot of manpower in you and Salem, but she’s strong and smart. She can take care of herself.”
“She’s still a woman.”
Elijah took a long pull on his beer and absorbed that. He knew damn well Raze and Salem had a healthy respect for Vashti or they wouldn’t be taking orders from her. Which meant the mention of her sex wasn’t gender bias.