Authors: Susanna Shore
Tags: #Urban, #Vampires, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Paranormal & Urban, #Literature & Fiction
He wouldn’t get any help from Gemma in calming himself. She had got her Rider under control and didn’t emanate any Might energy whatsoever anymore. She held herself rigid, as if fearing any gesture of empathy would break the leash that bound her second nature. Even her formal clothing suggested she had raised a shield between her and the world. The grey pantsuit and red high-heeled shoes made her slender figure look amazing. Her wild hair was tied in a neat knot, and her discreet makeup emphasised her beauty, but they were obviously meant to hold her together. He admired her looks, but he missed the muddy creature he had originally met. That woman hadn’t worried about showing emotions.
Kieran wasn’t too concerned though. Her eyes had flashed in interest when he had shown up at her front door after waiting in his car for hours. He didn’t usually put much store in clothing, but he was an architect and understood the impact a sculpted figure would strike in a slim-fit V-neck cashmere knit, well cut jeans, fine leather boots, and a blazer. He had aimed to please her, but also to counter the first impression he had made on the golf course security. That it didn’t work on the latter wasn’t a great loss.
A vampire DI had waited for them at the golf course parking lot, a tiny woman with blonde pixie-cut hair. She was cute as a button, but had such a strong presence, even without Might adding to it, that one couldn’t overlook her.
She introduced herself briskly. "DI Philippa Audley, Metropolitan Police Homicide and Serious Crime Command. This is DS Adrian Moore."
He was a human male in his late twenties or early thirties, tall and grim, and for a human dominant enough that Kieran immediately deemed him a threat. His wolf aura surged out towards the bloke with a snarl. Only with an effort Kieran managed not to follow its lead.
Gemma and Philippa tensed, ready to intervene should they be needed. The image of two rather small women putting him to his place proved amusing enough for him to snap out of his killing mood. He was even able to nod politely at the other man when Gemma introduced them. As unaware of the hostility of Kieran’s aura as the human was, he at least had the good sense not to offer his hand to either of them. He wouldn’t have survived the stupidity.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, and on Saturday even. But I wasn’t aware that homicide detectives investigated dead dogs," Gemma said, clearly fishing.
Philippa smiled grimly. "How about dead sheep?" Their surprised looks made her smile warm up. "Inside information. I’m dating Jasper Grayson."
"Well…" Gemma looked as stumped as Kieran felt. The huge and brutal-looking Jasper didn’t strike as the most obvious boyfriend candidate for this tiny woman. "It’s very kind of you to take interest," she finally managed.
The detective shrugged, clearly amused by their reaction. "Crimson Circle wants to have me here as much as you do. They’d already approached me and I contacted the local police when this request came through." Kieran wasn’t surprised. The ancient vampire organisation had their hands in everything. Besides, their sheep had been killed too.
Philippa gestured for them to head to the main building, but Adrian didn’t follow them. "Such a fine Jag Mr Garret has. I’ll keep an eye on it, lest it gets stolen," he said, revealing that he was both smarter than Kieran had taken him for, and American, his accent noticeable.
"Local humans are seldom as able to understand the two-natured, let alone Americans," Kieran noted to Philippa as they entered the building. Ever since sentients had been exiled to Americas after the Sentient War, they had kept humans there in the dark about two-natured matters.
Philippa grinned. "He’s a fast learner." Well, he had to be if his superior was dating a Circle warrior. It was a matter of self-preservation.
A row of monitors kept an eye on the premises at the country club security room. Had the security been more co-operative they would have had all the footage they needed. But the men were afraid of Kieran, which they tried to mask with blustering and making sexist remarks about the women. After only five minutes, Kieran was ready to tear their throats open.
He was saved from committing a justifiable homicide by Philippa. After a particularly rude comment, she smiled slowly at the men and let her fangs slide down. A pungent smell of fear filled the room, aggravating in itself.
"I wished you hadn’t done that," Gemma remarked casually. "I’ve had trouble keeping my—violence—in check today. Their fear excites me a bit too much."
Kieran tensed, ready to intervene if needed. He didn’t know if he would be able to stop her Rider should it get free, but she needed to know that he would try. Then he noticed the deep dimple that had appeared on her cheek and he relaxed. She was only making fun of the men. At least it worked and the men kept silent. Just in case, he remained standing between her chair and the men.
There were many cameras monitoring the parking lot and the driveway leading in, but for such a well-guarded place, they had done a curiously poor job of placing the cameras. Only a couple of them provided a good view inside cars as they drove in, and no view at all when they drove out. But the parking lot was well covered.
They soon found the footage of the fight. He fast forwarded it, not wanting to distress Gemma unnecessarily, but she still tensed. He watched it with interest, trying to determine if he could have won like he had claimed, and he noticed Philippa nodding with approval too.
When the floodlights ended the fight, they paid attention to which direction the wolves disappeared to and tracked the correct camera. It showed them running to a car and shifting, but they had been careful and there was no clear image of their faces. So they rewound the footage to the moment the men parked—three hours earlier. The men clearly knew where the cameras were, however, so surely they managed to avoid them. They had to trace the car’s journey backwards through the lot until it appeared in the camera that offered the best view. Philippa put the footage on pause.
Gemma gasped. "It’s them. It’s the two men I met at Asda."
Kieran leaned in to study to image closer. Then he growled. "And I know who they are."
Chapter Sixteen
Gemma’s heart jumped. "You do?"
"Yeah." Kieran sounded angry. Apparently there was no love lost between him and the men. "And what’s best, I know where to find them."
"Where?" Philippa demanded sharply. His anger didn’t faze her at all. Then again, if she could deal with a warrior as scary as Jasper Grayson, an angry wolf wouldn’t impress her.
Gemma found Philippa intriguing. She had never met a vampire woman like her. Women of her kind were often old-fashioned in their manners, demure, and well-behaved—by necessity and for being subdued by a patriarchal society, unwilling or unable to change. Philippa had no compunction about going against that.
"Never you mind that," Kieran said.
Philippa growled, adding to Gemma’s admiration. The one time she had let her emotions show, her Rider had taken advantage. If she hadn’t fled indoors and kept to herself for hours, she might not have made it. The mere notion of what might have happened was enough to make her consider keeping away from Kieran and the emotions he caused for the rest of her life. An empty life would be easier to bear than the thought she would kill someone she loved.
Her body went cold from the thought. Then hot, when the implication sank in.
"I will not tolerate vigilante operations." Philippa’s tone was absolute.
"It’s not your call." Kieran was wound up as it was. An argument wouldn’t help him to calm down, but he clearly wasn’t able or willing to step back. Not giving a thought to the emotional strain it might put on her, Gemma wrapped her arm around Kieran’s waist and pulled him towards her—or rather, scooted to him on her chair because he wouldn’t budge.
His stomach muscles were taut under her hand, the contact not enough to do the trick this time, so she pressed her face into his chest. His cashmere knit was soft against her cheek and his scent was enticing. She wanted to stay there, breathing him in, but now wasn’t the time for it and this wasn’t the place.
"Maybe we should discuss this later?" She kept the contact firm and gradually his tension eased. His wolf calmed too, though it wouldn’t retreat inside him.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on her head. "Thanks." He sighed. "Yes, you’re right. We’ll discuss this once Jamie is present too."
Philippa nodded and then arranged a print of the picture so they would have something to show to Jamie. "I may need the footage later too, so please don’t delete it just yet." The security agreed to this hastily, more than happy to get rid of them.
Adrian wasn’t alone when they returned to the cars. Jasper was with him. Both men were leaning against the bonnet of Philippa’s car in identical, seemingly casual poses with their arms loosely crossed over their chests and a leg propped against the bumper. Gemma wasn’t fooled, and neither was Philippa.
"Jas. Are you torturing Adrian again?"
The warrior straightened up. He wasn’t actually taller than the other two men, but he was much bulkier so he seemed bigger. Even in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, he was huge. He leaned over to give her a kiss, and then grinned, which transformed his face from scary to almost handsome. "No, I’m teaching the whelp some survival skills." The ’whelp’ rolled his eyes in response.
Gemma and Kieran had paused a little away from the vampires. There was no need to risk hostilities again. "What are you thinking of with such a wistful look," he asked her, and she told him the truth.
"I fear that I’ll be forever doomed to not experience the full range of emotions."
He wrapped an arm around her. She cherished the contact even as she wanted to lean away from it. The more he touched her, the more difficult it became for her to stifle her emotions, good and bad. "I believe you feel strongly all the time without it affecting your control. You’re just not able to express it."
"I came close to losing the Rider today."
"Not when it mattered." His slow smile made her insides tighten in expectation. But then she sighed.
"What if I had lost control when we had sex?"
He took her face in his hands, holding it gently. "You didn’t, and I think the feeding made the difference."
"Blood always helps," Jasper pitched in, his attention clearly not wholly on Philippa.
Gemma turned to him. "Are you sure? Because what I’ve heard, blood is what drives it on. As in, bloodlust?"
"Ah, the good times—ouch." He rubbed his upper arm where Philippa had punched him. "I was only joking."
Philippa shook her head, exasperated. "I love you dearly, but jokes really aren’t your strong point." She smiled at Gemma. "Blood only helps if it’s offered by someone you’re connected to. Jas here can put mine under control when needed."
"You’re so tiny you’re easy enough to control without blood—ouch." He wrapped an arm around Philippa and, lifting her up, kissed her soundly on the lips. "Behave."
He put her down and she glowered at him, trying to keep a smile from her face. "Was there a reason you suddenly showed up?"
"As a matter of fact, there is," he said, sobering. "More sheep were killed last night. And this time it was on a human farm."
***
Gemma knew the farm from her childhood, had seen the current owner, Mr Martin, age from his childhood into an octogenarian. But he didn’t recognise her when they drove to the yard in Philippa’s car and introduced themselves. Gemma didn’t wonder about it. Humans found it difficult to adjust to the idea that the young woman before them was the same young woman they had met when they were children.
Only she, Philippa, and Adrian went to the farm. They split up a mile from it and Kieran and Jasper had headed to the meadow to check the traces before they would be messed up by humans. Philippa led their group, on the assumption that a police officer would be welcome.
Quite a number of people were gathered around the old farmer, listening to him describe the carnage. Many of them were farmers too, though not all of them kept sheep, and their anger was mutual. It was all aimed at Philippa the moment she told them she was from the MET.
"And what are you going to do about the shifters? This is an outrage," Mr Martin, by far the loudest, demanded.
"Yeah. We’ve suffered them long enough. You have to tell them to go away."
"Killers, one and all."
Gemma wasn’t surprised by their anger, but she hadn’t expected such hostility. It was palpable, like a foulness in the air she could sense. She was glad Kieran wasn’t there.
Philippa maintained her calm exterior. "Shifters aren’t killers any more than humans are. There are bad people among both."
"The clan is protecting them. If they won’t get rid of the bad apples, we’ll get rid of the whole clan." With every angry comment, the atmosphere seemed to thicken. Gemma raised her shields, a precaution she hadn’t thought she would need.
Philippa made a placating gesture. "I know it’s tempting to blame the Greenwood clan, but they’ve been here for centuries without touching any sheep."
"That’s not true." Mr Martin spoke like a man who knew he was the authority among his neighbours. "My grandfather told me how in his childhood someone in the clan killed sheep. He was shot for his trouble."
Gemma’s stomach tied into an upset knot. Colm. Mr Martin had to mean him, because apart from her mother’s, she wasn’t aware of other incidents where sheep were killed. It was definitely good Kieran wasn’t here. "It was a false accusation that time too. They shot the wrong man." She didn’t need the particulars to know it. "And shifters are human too. You can’t just go around shooting them." It was bad enough humans had hunted natural wolves to extinction.
Philippa nodded. "We have a lead on the guilty party and the police are pursuing it as we speak. They’ll be caught soon."
But it was as if the humans weren’t even listening. "One wolf is as good as the other. I say we march there and make them pay." Others nodded, agreeing with a farmer who didn’t keep sheep himself—he didn’t smell of farm animals of any kind.