Alabaster Nights (The Josie Hawk Chronicles) (2 page)

“Get your fanged ass out of my city.”

She kicked him once more and then ran off down an alley. Stunned, Keller watched her long cloak drifting behind her like a shimmering eel. He could have given chase, but his body was rooted in disbelief and…hope.

A few minutes in Nashville had changed the course of Keller’s life.

***

Thump, thump, thump
.

The beat of the bass drum mimicked the sound of blood pumping through the veins of the patrons. What had his sister called this bar? Didn’t matter. Keller squeezed the back of his neck trying to ease the building tension that would ultimately escalate until he was on his knees screaming for relief. Relief he refused. Last night, he’d nearly gone too far.
I will not kill for sustenance.
Nor would he sire another creature of the night no matter how much Death goaded him to murder and destroy. But he’d come so close. Would he have the willpower to stop next time?

For that reason, he hadn’t fed today. Some vampires could go several days between feedings. Not Keller. He burned through the energy faster than he should, faster than what was deemed normal by vampire standards.

He shouldn’t have come to this place hungry.

He should be on the streets searching for his salvation.

Peels of feminine laughter couldn’t drown the steady rhythm of the liquid rushing through the bodies, excited and strong, as men led their dance partners across the wooden planks of the floor, twirling and dipping until the women squealed.

Thump, thump, thump.

Saliva gathered in Keller’s mouth. He swallowed carefully. Concentrating on that one action did little to abate the cravings. A deep need settled in his cold bones, refusing to be denied. All he’d learned back at the Colony hadn’t been enough. He’d gone through the motions of detox, taking each step deliberately, following the orders explicitly, refusing to fail. But he still craved with such intensity he could scarcely function. The self-control he’d prided himself on before the change had disappeared in the space of one night, one mistake, one breath. He thought he’d had some of it back, until last night. Last night had changed everything.

He’d checked himself into the Colony—the vampires’ equivalent of rehab—more than five times over the last few decades. The rehabilitation center was run by a handful of influential beings from the lore community, who, for a steep price, tried to curb the natural tendencies of the occult so they could blend better in the human world. He shoved away the memories of all that had happened within the walls of the Colony. The doctors, as they liked to call themselves, took the game of torture to a new level. A level he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemies.

Though Keller had been discharged, he knew he’d failed at rehabilitation. No amount of mental or physical agony could break Death’s hold.

Many believed the only true cure for those inflicted with a monster within was finding one’s mate. That was a rarity few got to experience. No matter how hard he’d searched, that special someone had eluded Keller.

Until now.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Keller hoped the woman who’d attacked him outside the hospital would be the key to exorcising the beast. Could she be the one to finally bring him inner peace? Why else would his body have responded in such a way? Finding her again had become his number one priority.

Thump, thump, thump
.

He slid his tongue across one sharp canine, but the taste of his own blood wasn’t what he desired. Nor was the Bloody Mary he held in his right hand. The deep red color would supposedly help quench his thirst. Laughable, that. Staring at the cocktail, he wondered if the exorbitant amount of money he’d paid the Colony had been a complete waste. With the way he was feeling now, he may as well have loaded all his money into a barrel, doused it with gasoline and set it ablaze.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder. Always mindful of his inhuman speed, Keller turned slowly to the man behind the bar, ignoring the bodies pressing against him on either side.

“Hey, buddy,” the bartender said. “You need another?”

Keller eyed the thick veins on the bartender’s neck with interest, and then made a conscious effort to flick his gaze up, ignoring blood’s call. “I’m grand.”

Thump, thump, thump.

He should leave. Simply walk out the door and keep going until he was alone. Neither his feet nor his heart would obey. Sage would never forgive him. His sister wore her feelings like others wore accessories, bright and shiny for everyone to see. Being a vampire was not easy for her. Like a snake, Sage constantly shed her skin, trying to get used to the new covering that housed what she had become. She’d been a gypsy since the moment she’d been released by their sire. Was it possible that had all changed? She’d invited Keller, with the giddiness of a teenager, to the place she now called home.

Home.

Keller wasn’t sure he remembered the meaning of the word. Home had disintegrated the moment he’d been turned.

June. 1919. He’d been a newly recruited soldier at the age of twenty-seven, ready to fight alongside his brothers for independence in the Irish Civil War. The battlefield had been waiting just over the hill. In the morning, they would fight. Keller never made it through the night.

He didn’t hate what he had become. Being a vampire afforded him a lot of advantages mere humans could never possess. With the advantages also came the pitfalls few vampires could conquer. Insatiable hunger that gnawed at his gut and made his nerves crawl beneath his cool skin was only one.

Leaning against the bar, he slid his gaze back to the dance floor just as the beat sped up to a steady four on the floor. He’d held drumsticks in his hands before. He’d originally used the instrument to pound out stress, but found an escape in creating the rhythm behind the music.

More twirls, more feminine mirth, more adrenaline charging through the dim room. His heart jumped once. Keller snapped his attention to the band. Two guitars dueled, each one attempting to outdo the other with increasing volume and quick notes. A familiar feeling washed over him as a curvy woman with deep auburn hair, smoky eyes, and full, unadorned lips swung her hips left and right like a true belly dancer, making her way between the guitarists to the front of the stage. She wore a short jean skirt and black cowboy boots that accentuated her fishnet -clad thighs. Her shirt was of the corset variety in a brilliant shade of green. She tapped a long tapered finger against the rusty microphone stand.

Thump, thump, thump
.

Suddenly more ravenous than usual, Keller stared at her neck, to the spot just below her ear. He knew before she ever opened her mouth that she was about to sing. That fragile skin stretched with her sharp intake of breath a second before a low, sultry voice filled the room. The need for blood quickly turned to a need to possess as his heated gaze locked on hers. Now the only rhythm he heard was the sound of her life source coursing through her veins as it mixed with the most melodically sexy voice he had ever heard.

Keller shoved off the bar and strode toward the stage, an invisible bond tethering his chest to the singer. Her voice swirled around him, wrapping him in a cocoon made of hunger, desire, and need. A waitress walked by, her drink tray held high over the crowd. Keller reached up and deposited his untouched beverage. Fake blood would never soothe his cravings. For that matter, no blood, human or animal, had ever taken the edge off. He had little doubt all of that was about to change.

Eyes that had been full of happiness, as if singing was the only thing that kept her alive, leveled on him and narrowed to slits so thin he could no longer make out their color.

She knew.

She remembered.

He still thought she was human, but a
normal
human would never have been able to tell he was a night creature. His heart had stuttered when he’d fought the cloaked woman last night. Now, after seeing her eyes, her face, her body, his heart threatened to explode.

“Hey, dude. Watch out.”

Keller growled as he flicked his gaze from the singer to the man in the oversized cowboy hat blocking his path. Keller gripped the man’s arm, reminding himself not to kill and careful not to break his bones. “Move.” One word, infused with the power of persuasion.

The man blinked and then rushed off the dance floor. Keller refocused his attention back to his…

His what?

He hesitated to use the word mate, but everything inside him cried that’s exactly who this woman was. One bite would confirm everything.

-2-

The Vampire Calls Bullshite

“Big brother. You made it.”

Keller clenched his jaw and fought against every nerve in his body. He wanted nothing more than to pounce on the singer and make her his. That would, unfortunately, have to wait. Biting someone in a crowd wasn’t his style. Once he felt a modicum of control, he turned and offered Sage a genuine smile. His sister. Biological or not didn’t matter.

“Of course I made it,” he said. “You know I can’t deny you anything.” He pulled on Sage’s braid and lifted a brow. “Pink?” Other than her hair color, she looked exactly the same. Tall, willowy, and covered in tattoos.

Sage hugged him tightly while the singer continued to belt out a crowd-rousing tune. He squelched the urge to turn and watch.

“This week, anyway. Eventually my hair will probably fall out from all this dying.” Sage shrugged. “That’s what wigs are for, right? Just ask Dolly Parton.”

“Dolly who?”

“Never mind,” Sage said, laughing.

She grabbed his hand and guided him back to the bar.

Keller positioned himself so he could see the stage as well as Sage. His sister looked good. Dare he say peaceful? Almost. A vampire rarely found true peace. Not until the end came, and Keller wondered if far worse awaited on the other side. That, of course, depended on which myth one chose to believe.

“So?”

“So, what?” Sage was up to something. Her eyes sparkled brighter than the holiday lights running the length of the bar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this happy. Maybe never.

“Do you like her?”

Every muscle in his body stiffened. Was he so transparent that Sage had picked up on his fixation? “Do I like who?” His words were stilted. He cleared his throat.

She swept her arm in a circle. “This place? I’m going to buy it,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child with a secret.

Keller furrowed his brows, his mind sifting through the ramifications of Sage’s statement. Buying meant staying. In the past, Sage hadn’t stayed anywhere long enough to see a season change. “You’re going to buy a pub?”

Shoving him playfully, Sage said, “You’re not in Ireland, bro. This is Nashville, and this
pub
is called a honkytonk.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“But, yes,” she said with a genuine smile. “To answer your question, I am going to buy it. Isn’t it great? We’re changing the name to Wolfie’s.”

The song ended and the singer stepped down from the stage like a drill sergeant on a mission. Keller tracked her movements as, once again, every nerve in his body strained, begging him to do
something
. For once, Death held his tongue.

Keller cracked his neck. The motion did little to ease his headache. “We? Will I approve of this partner?” He pictured someone taking advantage of Sage’s soft heart. Keller bit back his words. He would not allow Sage to buy this place until he met her partner and agreed with the terms. Sage was family and her safety trumped her happiness. Surely, even Sage would see the logic in that.

The singer marched through the crowd, deep red hair bouncing, pale-green eyes watching Keller like a hawk. Her heart thumped in time with her boots as they pounded against the worn wooden floor. Something, probably a knife, glinted under the hem of her skirt. Maybe the same weapon she’d used on him last night. Had she wiped off his blood? Her determined gaze never left his. Keller wore a lazy smile and waited. Any second now Cupid would arrive to retrieve the arrow lodged in Keller’s heart.

Sage jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “I hope so. She’s awesome.”

She? He hadn’t considered the possibility that Sage’s partner could be a woman. A thought crept in. Keller eased off the bar and straightened his suit jacket. “I look forward to meeting her.” Indeed.

When the singer reached them, she planted her feet and crossed her arms over her ample chest. She smiled at Sage before she turned to face Keller. The friendly smile flattened into a thin line.

Keller breathed deeply—something he rarely did—and his heart, along with another vital organ, jerked to attention.

“Perfect timing,” Sage said. “Keller, I’d like you to meet my partner and best friend, Josephine Hawk. Josie, this is my brother, Keller.”

The redhead licked her lips and swept her angry gaze from his head to his feet and back up. “I thought I told you to leave.”

Keller could barely hear over the roar in his ears. A fierce urge to protect washed over him. Yes. Josephine Hawk had to be the one he’d been waiting for. How appropriate that Sage had chosen her as a partner.

“You two know each other?” Sage asked. Brows drawn, her gaze bounced from Josie to Keller. “How? When?”

Josie studied Sage with narrowed eyes. “Your…brother?” She spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable as if the words were new to her tongue.

Keller smiled like a kingdom’s resident fool. This Josephine Hawk was one fine spitfire, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. All in due time. She played the role of the tough guy fairly well, but he noted both interest and wariness in her eyes.

Sage laughed, the sound a bit nervous. “Yes, this is Keller. I’ve told you all about him. Remember?”

Josie gave an easy nod that contradicted her icy tone. “Sagey Sage, I think you forgot one very important detail.”

Keller watched as Josie’s right hand slid beneath her waistband, no doubt going for a weapon. He had to give her credit. Most weren’t brave enough to pull a knife on a vampire. Especially in a bar full of witnesses.