Lost Angeles (36 page)

I turn my eyes back to Tam, who’s sitting there all sweet smiles and baby face, wearing a shirt made from white parachute fabric, a pair of strategically-torn khaki cargo shorts and, of course, those massive platform boots. For all that, she doesn’t look a day over sixteen. Right about then, her “that makes two of us” from the alley boomerangs back and clicks into place. And I know Asher half-explained it back at the police station, but I want some info straight from the source.

“You’re a sin-eater, too. How does it work, exactly?”

Tamsyn starts digging in her massive pockets. One hand pulls out a pack of clove cigarettes, the other locates a wad of detritus that includes gum and some Blow Pops. Weighing her options, she unwraps a sucker and shoves it in her mouth. “You wanna field this one, Dad?”

“Nope,” Jax tosses over the headrest, “you go right ahead.”

Tamsyn holds her hand out to me, shifting the sucker over to one side of her mouth to say, “Go on. I don’t bite.”

Xaine makes a noise that, swear to god, sounds like a Rottweiler growling at someone through a junkyard fence. “Fuck off, Orange Pop.”

“Not if you were the last man on earth.” She doesn’t spare him a glance, her eyes still trained on me. Behind her, the window flashes with streetlights and neon.

“How ’bout we do this without all the touching, huh?” Jax barks out. “And before you give me any more lip, Tam, I want you to think about what pawing her did to the guy tied up in the trunk.”

I gape a little. “Me? I didn’t do anything to
him
.”

“Nothing you
meant
to do,” Jax corrects without explaining. “But a year ago, he was considerably less psychotic.”

Tamsyn retracts her hand with an exaggerated sigh. “He might have been less of a crackhead, but he was
always
a douche.”

I glance at her, so tiny and cheerful and about the least intimidating person I’ve ever laid eyes on. “You’re like him.”

“Well, yes and no.” She scrunches up her nose at me. “Sin-eater, yeah. But I’m way less of a dick about it.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Xaine mutters, but either Tamsyn doesn’t hear him or she opts not to acknowledge the snarling.

“It’s sort of our job to help out the humans,” she says, crossing one giant-boot-clad leg over the other and slurping on her Blow Pop. “Figure out who’s naughty and nice. Get into your heads. Pull out the bad bits so you can get through your day-to-day without sticking a gun in your mouth or jumping out a window—”

“Tam,” comes the disembodied warning shot from the front seat.

“
Sin-
eater, get it?” Tamsyn raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for the light bulb to click on. “I knew something was up with Benny when he stopped trolling every skanky bar in LA. Normally, you couldn’t shut him up about all the pussy he was getting, so when he got
really
quiet, I started tailing him.” There’s a crunching noise as she chomps down on her sucker to get to the gum inside. “It’s not in anyone’s best interest for humans to know about us. We’re sorta the bottom rung on a crap-ladder they don’t need to climb anytime soon.”

“So you followed him?” I ask. “Where to?”

“O’Reilly’s,” Jax answers for her, dark head turning around so he can fix me with a stern look. “And then a sleazy motel in Van Nuys.”

Heat spreads across my face the second that processes. “What took you so damn long to get there? And I have mentioned recently that you are the worst guardian angel
ever
?”

Jax ignores the jab. “I let
someone
park my car, and
someone
parked it in a handicapped spot—”

“You
are
handicapped,” Tamsyn offers, then adds, “
mentally
.”

“—and while I was on the phone with the towing company, convincing them to turn around and bring back my Audi, you disappeared. I had a helluva time tracking you down, too. The hobo network ain’t what it used to be.”

“I could have been dead,” I point out.

“But you weren’t. You were fine.”

“I was naked!”

“But
fine
.” Jax waves a dismissive hand at it all. “Anyway, by the time we turned up in Van Nuys, Benny was long gone.”

“That about how it played out, B?” Tamsyn tosses at the trunk. “You kinky little shit?”

“Self-righteous bitch,” he fires back. “We don’t all have a Johnny Blue Shoes to do our face-kickin’ for us, yanno. I do what I gotta do.”

“Riiight.” Tamsyn pulls the tiny white stick out of her mouth and flicks it at the back of Jax’s head. “And hoarding ‘little bits of heaven’ is exactly what
I
would do, given the chance… said no one ever.”

I’m not following one word in three anymore, but it doesn’t matter, because Asher’s guiding the car through a reinforced security gate and straight down to hell. At least, that’s how it feels when we descend into the underground parking structure. He hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive, and as soon a he cuts the engine, he hops out of the Humvee and shouts a few words. A second later, the trunk clicks open.

“Welcome back.” Lonan waves a gloved hand at me, but he doesn’t wait for any sort of response. Instead, he hauls the bleeding sin-eater over his shoulder and takes off down the hall.

Latches pop and doors open on both sides of the car. Tamsyn slides out and heads off to confer with Jax. Xaine stretches a hand toward me, wrapping those long fingers around mine and pulling me toward him. The world spins as soon as my feet hit the ground, and I sag heavily against his chest, one palm pressed to my head as if that’ll stop it.

“You okay, sweetheart?” There’s concern written across that suddenly too-familiar face of his, so I offer up a smile and a nod.

“Yeah, fine.” Except I’m not. Not by a long shot. I’m hot and itchy and a deep flush colors my skin. I know it’ll wear off, but I’ve never actually been this
aware
of it before, or this
unaware
of how to stop it. “We should see where they took Ben—”

Xaine’s mouth finds mine, stifling the words like he’s the one full of Jungle Juice. His hands tighten down on my waist, just like Benicio’s had, but I could tell the difference between them even if I’d gone deaf
and
blind. Xaine doesn’t pull away until I’m dizzy from lack of oxygen, and one small gasp isn’t enough to drag all the air I need into my lungs.

“I can smell him on you,” he mutters against the side of my neck. The bristled scrape of his chin against my super-sensitized skin elicits a full-body shudder. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you before I got outside.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer, mouth back on mine and tongue slipping past my shoddy defenses before I even realize what’s happening. Doesn’t matter, because this is exactly what I want, exactly what I need,
right now
. Xaine slams the car door shut, then I’m suddenly pinned against several thousand pounds of steel and glass. What was a dull throb of arousal flares into an inferno of desire as I tangle my hands in the dark fall of his hair, fisting the locks and dragging his lips toward mine again and again. He tastes like sin, my version of sacramental wine, and I flatten myself against him, frantic with the need to get closer, to drink deeper, to open myself to him and—

“Jesus Christ, do I need to turn the hose on the two of you?” Asher yells from the doorway.

Jax stands off to one side, eying Xaine like he wishes he’d kicked
him
in the fangs. Next to him, Tamsyn makes exaggerated puking noises and tacks on a “so gross!” for good measure.

“I swear to god, Xaine, I will shoot you in the ass if you don’t get off her,” Asher adds.

“So shoot me already and shut the hell up!” Xaine yells back.

And there I stand, between a truck and a hard place, a low groan of frustration escaping me as my head falls back to thump against the window. Honestly, I’d stamp my foot right now if I didn’t need it for equilibrium. Closing my eyes, I slowly comb my fingers through the silken strands of Xaine’s hair, savoring the feel of it on my skin because, apparently, that’s as close as I’m going to get to him right now. When I open my eyes, a spectacularly thwarted pair of aquamarines stare right back at me.

Xaine swallows hard. “We are going inside and figuring this shit out,” he says slowly. “Then I am going to kill Asher and Jax and maybe the mini-muffin. And
then
we are going home, and we are going to fuck until my dick falls off and you can’t walk straight for a week.”

That gets a chuckle out of me. “Can there be eating somewhere between all that fucking? I’m starving.”

“Yeah,” Xaine says as he cracks the first actual smile I’ve seen out of him for hours. “I could use a bite myself.”

“Bad vampire joke is
bad
.” But I grin and give him a little push, one that he allows.

When I teeter off after Asher, Xaine falls in step beside me, one protective hand on my lower back. By the time I drag myself up the three flights of stairs behind our host, I’m ready to collapse into the nearest chair. Not an option, because the only resting surface is a metal table, set on a slant, and Benicio is strapped down to it, restraints around his head, wrists, and ankles. I steel my resolve, muster up my nerve, and step toward Public Enemy Number One.

“I need your help.”

He barks out a curt, “Fuck you.”

“Watch your language with the lady, asshole.” Xaine’s still at my back, his hand pressed to my spine.

“Yeah? Screw you too, bloodsucker.” Benny grins and tugs at his cuffs. I don’t have any clue what Asher’s equipment is made of, but I can only assume it’s vampire-grade double-reinforced whatever-it-takes-to-hold-an-immortal-down. I remember the tussle between Xaine and Benicio in the hallway at Scion. As far as strength goes, I’d say the two of them are equally matched, and I can only hope good ol’ Benny doesn’t have any other tricks up his sleeve. With his magic fingers, he could drop us all in a matter of seconds and leave us clutching our crotches while he beats it out the back door.

“Please,” I tell him. “You owe me.”

“Man’s gotta eat,” Benicio tells me. “You want your memories? I want another
taste
.”

Xaine growls, but doesn’t say anything. He knew this bit was coming, knew and was probably banking on us
not
finding Benicio.

“Tell me what you know,” I say. “Please?”

“What’s in it for me? You gonna let me go?” He doesn’t wait for a response before tacking on, “Nah, didn’t think so.” The sin-eater’s gaze roams from my head to my chest, pausing there long enough for him to lick his lips. “I like the new hairdo, but I must admit, I’ll miss tasting the rainbow
.
”

“Shut your filthy mouth.” Xaine clamps down on my arm, pulling me backwards like he’s going to save me. My hands seek and find, petting any part of him I can, trying to diffuse his fury.

Still grinning, Benicio shifts his attention from Xaine back to me, his tongue working in his mouth. “It’s all blood and pain… the things hiding in your closet, under your bed, in the mirror. Monsters in the dark, demons you don’t
need
. But I do. I need them. I
want
them. You gonna give them to me?”

As Benicio’s eyes trace over my shoulders and breasts, he swallows hard, like his mouth is watering, like he’s
salivating
at the thought of getting his hands on me.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Ol’ Benny’s kinda right,” Jax interrupts. “The memories sin-eaters feed off of aren’t exactly the sorts of memories that most people want back. What the hell do you need them for, anyway?”

“It’s kind of complicated,” I say, looking to Asher.

Of course, Jax notices. “I’ve got time.”

“Yeah, but Jess doesn’t,” Asher mutters. “Long story really short, a group of vampires jumped Lore last year, and she managed to survive without turning. I need to know how she did it to save the girl who’s dying in the room next door.”

“You’re not going to save that girl in there,” Jax says, looking grimmer than I’ve ever seen him. “Not if you’re relying on what saved Lourdes.”

“Am I supposed to take your word on that, Trace?” Asher’s cool-calm-collected routine cracks, the hunter’s mask slipping to reveal the smallest glimpse of the man underneath.

“Yeah, you are.”

“And what the hell do
you
know about it?”

“Oh, I know
all
the hell
about it,” Jax tells him. “I also know that Lore and Jess are
very
different people. Too different. Trying the same tactic isn’t going to work, Asher, and as someone who makes it his job to kill the unkillable, you should understand that no two scenarios play out exactly the same.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic. So I’m supposed to just trial-and-error it? Take shots in the dark until I find something that works?” Asher balls his hands into fists. “And in the meantime, what am I supposed to do with a half-turned baby vamp who can’t keep down so much as an ounce of food
or
blood? She’s
dying
in there.”

“You know the survival rate for women,” Jax looks sympathetic if not particularly moved. “Chances are good that she was dead the minute they opened up her veins, but if I had any advice to give, I’d say you need to find a way to finish the change. You were, I’m guessing, the one who interrupted it?”

“Actually,” I say, swallowing hard, “that was me.”

Jax stares at me, disbelief turning to cold fury in an instant. “What the fuck were
you
doing there?” There’s an edge to his voice now, a razor sharpness that feels like it should be completely uncharacteristic, but somehow isn’t. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know.”

I find myself staring at Jackson Trace’s face. There are two sides to him, a perfect dichotomy of affable fool and iron general that makes it hard to predict what his next move will be. To look at him, he’s
just a guy
. A guy who picks up lost girls and returns them to their vampire keepers. A guy who follows people he barely knows to a warehouse full of dangerous weapons, and for what?

“Why are you here?” My voice sounds so small, but it still rings in the silence and draws all eyes to me. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I mean, it’s nice of you to try to help, but you don’t even have to be here.”