Alabaster Nights (The Josie Hawk Chronicles) (3 page)

“What detail?” Sage and Keller asked simultaneously. He quirked a grin at Sage.

This would be rich. While Josie was focusing on one detail, Keller was memorizing every facet of her body, from her fiery hair to her tapered waist to her muscled thighs. Her body was the definition of curves. Her words, on the other hand, were as sharp as the knives she carried.

Josie scanned the growing crowd, and then leaned in and said in a quick whisper, “Your
brother
is a blood-stealing monster.”

Sage paled as if she’d been stricken, then a sudden splash of red rushed her cheeks. “Not cool, Josie.”

Would Sage ever learn to mask her emotions? Vampires shouldn’t be able to blush in anger or embarrassment. But Sage did both and more. A short-circuit of sorts during her turning, perhaps. Why not? Keller had long suspected something had gone wrong during his own. Why else would he have power that took others decades and sometimes centuries to hone? And yet, their defective sire continued to build an army disguised as family. Keller hadn’t figure out his sire’s purpose—the
end game
—but he would. Once that happened, Keller would destroy his sire’s power over those he’d created. The summoning would finally end.

Keller placed a hand on Sage’s arm. “It’s all right. No need to defend my honor. Ms. Hawk is entitled to her opinion.” Though he had to wonder, if Josie was that against vampires and their need for blood, how was it that she and Sage were friends? It bothered him that he couldn’t tell exactly what Josie was. Some beings could shield their true identities from others. That possibility made her all the more intriguing.

“How kind of you,” Josie said, batting her eyelashes. Then she stopped, and her face turned hard and cold like a statue of the goddess Artemis. “My opinion is based on fact. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you last night.”

“Everything okay over here?” the bartender interrupted.

Keller nodded. The bartender’s veins no longer appealed to him in the least. He did, however, picture all the places he’d like to bite Josephine Hawk. If she knew what he was thinking, he’d probably already have a blade embedded in his heart.

“Fine,” Sage said in answer to the bartender’s question before nailing Josie with wide eyes. “I think we need to take this conversation somewhere else.”

Keller agreed. While he cared not for what others thought of him, Sage was a sensitive sort and worried about appearances.

The music swelled from the stage and the crowd sang.

Keller filtered through all of it until he heard nothing but the sounds of Josie’s heartbeat and her quiet breaths. For a moment, a feeling reminiscent to serenity settled over him. Closing his eyes, he rolled his shoulders as his muscles released their knots. An elbow jab to his side had him pulling himself back to the conversation and inching closer to Josie and away from the overcrowded bar.

She immediately stepped away. Keller smiled.

“Your place is closest,” Sage said to Josie. “Can we go there?”

Josie shook her head. “I’m not inviting
him
into my home.”

Keller held his laugh. He’d be in her home sooner or later and her breathing wouldn’t be quite so subdued then.

Sage crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and let them fall to her thighs with a slap. “I’ll remind you again that he is my brother. Why are you being so rude, anyway? Wait—” Sage turned to Keller with narrowed eyes. “Did you kill somebody?”

Almost
. He could only imagine the level of Josie’s anger had he killed. Perhaps Josie knew the blonde? “No,” he answered.

Josie’s features softened and she blew out a long breath. “Sorry, girl. Let’s just grab a table. This won’t take long.”

As they moved through the crowd, Keller noticed two warlocks dressed in the black garb one expected of the breed. Both eyed Josie with predatory gazes. An equal mixture of lust and venom swam in their dark eyes. Keller swallowed a feral growl. She wasn’t his yet. His intense need to protect her spoke otherwise.

Keller cleared an occupied table in the far corner of the bar with nothing but a look. The three men grabbed their drinks and scurried off into the crowd. Josie rolled her eyes.
Endearing
.

Keller gestured for the ladies to take a seat. Josie glanced at her watch as if she had some pressing matter to attend to. In the end, his patience won out, and she plopped into one of the wooden chairs. One he wasn’t touching. The waitress started in their direction. Keller shook his head to warn her off before he remembered Josie wasn’t a vampire and might need a refreshment. She may be a rude chit, but his mother had raised him to have manners.

“Would you care for a drink?” he asked her.

“No.”

Again, how were she and Sage friends? There had to be more to her than the rough exterior she wore with such pride. Anticipation had him leaning forward. Fingers steepled, he regarded Josie with so much intensity, she squirmed in her seat. Her tough shell simply needed to be cracked. Josephine was a complexity in need of close study, and he had every intention of peeling off every single layer until he got to the heart and soul of the matter. Her heart and soul.

Sage huffed out a breath and toyed with a braid. “Let get this settled and out of the way so we can talk about the bar. Josie, you saw Keller doing something last night, something monstrous, and you didn’t kill him? Explain yourself.”

Keller cleared his throat. “You speak as if you believe she could have killed me.” Sage had to be going mad if she thought Keller could be destroyed by a female nearly half his size. After much consideration, he’d ruled the witch angle out. Josie could fight. And she might be something more than a human with knowledge of the occult, but Keller had never lost to one before and he wouldn’t start now.

Sage shrugged unapologetically. “Hate to tell you, bro, but she probably could. Josie is all kinds of fierce.”

The woman in question placed her hands flat on the table. “I kill worse than you every night of the week.”

Now they were getting somewhere. She killed. Daily, if she was to be believed. Who had the unfortunate fate of being on the other end of her knife? Warlocks? He glanced in their direction, then looked directly at Josie and winked. “Really. And what exactly are you, Ms. Hawk?” He had to know, and he figured egging her on was the only way he would find out.

Her flinch was almost imperceptible, but Keller had seen it.

She sat back in her chair. “I’m a Huntress.”

Keller masked his surprise. A Huntress. They were so rare he’d never ever considered it. He’d heard of them, of course. Though he’d yet to meet one in person. Impressive lot, according to the tales circulating around the occult world. Brutal protectors of those they considered theirs. Hunters hunted anyone and anything who threatened the safety of those they chose to guard. He’d done just that when he’d nearly drained and killed. “This is your domain?” That would also explain why Josie was being watched so closely. She’d have enemies. Keller’s urge to kill doubled. If Josie were indeed his mate, her enemies would become his.

“This, Mr. O’Leary, is my city. I shield my people from beings like you. The humans wouldn’t stand a chance against the darker beings of the occult. Not without help. My help.”

Hearing his name said in such a charming southern accent made him smile. He’d smiled more in the last ten minutes than he had in the last century. The Huntress Josephine Hawk could be thanked for that. “Which brings us back to Sage’s question. Assuming you could, why didn’t you kill me?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glanced at Sage before returning her gaze to him. “Everyone gets one warning.”

Sage coughed out a laugh. “Since when?”

“I call bullshite on that statement, Josephine.”

“You can call bull
shite
all you want, Irish. I’m the sole rule maker in Nashville. Abide by them or kiss your ass goodbye ash style. And don’t call me Josephine.”

He made no promises. Josephine suited her. “Enlighten me. What are the rules?”

“It’s simple. Don’t harm my people.”

“Does that include feeding?” He looked to Sage and lifted his brows.

“Like any other vampire with a conscience,” Josie snapped, “you take what you need and no more. You do it without causing pain.” She slammed her fist down on the table. “You do have a conscience, don’t you?”

“I took her to the hospital.”

Sage sighed. “Keller won’t break the rules again.”

“Won’t I?” But he had already. Why hadn’t Josie tried to kill him? Did she sense they were connected somehow? If Keller felt this strongly, surely the Huntress would feel something.

“No. You won’t,” said Sage. “I don’t know what you did, and I’m certain I don’t want to hear about it. But…” Sage took his hand, and then Josie’s. She pulled them both to the center of the table. Keller stretched his finger, but Josie pulled away before he could touch her skin.

“This is the home I’ve chosen,” Sage continued. “Josie is my best friend. She gets me. You’re my brother. Believe it or not, you two have a lot in common.”

Josie snorted. “Name one thing besides you.”

Sage offered a patient smile. “Music. You sing. Keller plays drums.”

Josie slid a questioning gaze his way. “You play drums?”

Keller lifted a shoulder. “I dabble.”

“Dabbling is not playing.”

“Semantics.”

Sage sighed. “For my sake, will the two of you please try to get along?”

“I can do that for you, Sage. But I’m not sure your friend is up to the challenge.”

The warlocks pushed through the crowd and exited the bar.

Josie stood. “That’ll be easy. Keep your fangs to yourself and stay out of my way.” She swiveled on her heel and left without another word.

Keller watched the sway of her hips and her determined steps. “Where is she going?”

“Hunting.”

Of course. Keller rose and pulled on Sage’s braid. “I like your partner.”

Sage beamed. Whether she’d realized it or not, Keller knew she’d sought his approval.

“Thanks,” she said. “Now where are you going?”

Keller simply smiled and flashed a fang.

-3-

The Huntress Bleeds

He’s been following me for two nights now, hiding in the shadows, trailing me as I prowl the streets armed with more blades than a sous chef. Sage was right about one thing. Her brother is of the determined sort. What she didn’t mention is that he’s more than a little odd. He stares at me like he’s trying to steal my soul. Perhaps he simply worries for Sage and wants to know if her new partner is who she says she is. Instinct tells me it’s more than that.

I’m pretty sure he thinks I can’t see him. I’m guessing no one has ever told him that it’s kinda hard to hide when you’re six-plus feet of solid sexy vampire. Said vampire has chosen me as his object of fixation and I’d like to know why. What I do is dangerous, and I can’t afford the distraction. When I think of Keller, the word stable never enters my mind. It’s not easy keeping one eye on my crazy stalker and the other on the rest of Nashville.

Slowing, I take in my surroundings and ignore the cold air as it creeps down my spine. Each breath is a series of smoke signals, rolling toward the dark sky and evaporating into the night. I’ve never been a fan of winter and we’re having a particularly cold one this year. I’ll admit that the decorated trees and wreaths do add a bit of heart-warming ambience to the chilly season. Not enough to heat my toes, though. As soon as the sun starts shining, I’m heading straight to my apartment to sleep under the hot spray of water in my crappy-ass shower. The sun and I are about to become really good friends. Daylight seems to be my only escape from Mr. Crazy Vampire Dude.

In front of me is the rough section of town, the part of the city slathered in poverty and despair. While crime is rampant there, it’s of the human variety and not my specialty. I’m leaving that particular neck of the woods to the cops tonight. To my right are a handful of bars and restaurants, closed up tight until business hours roll back around and humans roll out of bed. Printer’s Alley is on my left and currently solely occupied by Keller O’Leary.

I see him, watching me intently, almost as if he’s ready to intervene if necessary. Like I need the help. I’ve been doing this for a while now. On my own. I feed off the adrenaline. I live for the hunt. Keller, on the other hand, is beginning to look like he’s a faded tumbleweed about to roll down the street of a ghost town.

Leaning against the wall, he shifts from one foot to the other, either restless or desperate, I can’t tell which. I haven’t seen him feed since the incident with the blonde, and I’ve been watching closely. Almost as closely as he watches me. His dark eyes are full of ghosts. If I cared, I’d ask him what demons haunt him, what has he seen—or done—in his life that makes his eyes so disturbing and calculating. He closes those dark eyes now and I make my move.

“Who hired you to be my babysitter?”

The sharp edge of my knife presses against his jugular. Keller keeps his eyes closed. Even though he’s feigning nonchalance, his muscles tighten in a way that has me on high alert. I can’t afford to be trapped. I’ve seen what he can do when hungry and I’ve probably just roused a sleeping bear. I apply more pressure. Slicing him open wouldn’t kill him, but it would make me feel better.

“I’m not daft, Josephine,” he says in that Irish lilt that makes the pit of my stomach hotter than the glowing end of a branding iron. I haven’t been attracted to anyone in quite awhile. Why now? Why Sage’s brother?

“I know you would never stand for a babysitter.”

“I’m not a baby.” Go, me. Great comeback. Usually I’m snappier with my retorts. I’m off my game and it’s his fault. I think it might be his artfully mussed hair. Or maybe it’s the dimple in his chin. He’s too pretty. I should kick him in the face, though I’d probably need a ladder to reach that high. If I leave a mark he won’t look so perfect and then I can get back to business rather than daydreaming that I’m a painter and he’s my subject. That’s pretty hysterical considering my stick figures look more like blobs. “And stop calling me Josephine.” Yeah. I stop short of stomping my foot.