Amethyst Flame (The Flame Series Book 2) (11 page)

Since he’d spoken in a loud voice, several Savage Border Patrol officers turned in his direction. All the officers, both male and female, eyed Emma with suspicion. Shifters had the same problem with witches. He apologized for the outburst and everyone went back to their conversations.

She lowered her voice. “Yes, I could have zapped you good. But first I’d have to actually load that kind of charge into my fingers and for some inexplicable reason, as in you mean a helluva lot to me, I didn’t want to do that. Don’t you trust me, Vaughn?”

He rose to his feet and shook out his legs. When she stood up as well, he took her shoulders in his hands. “I do trust you. I was surprised, that’s all. I’m still getting use to your witch gifts.”

He glanced around once more and afterward checked his sidearm. He drew his Glock from his holster then returned it. This particular habit stuck with all peace officers, making sure your weapons were in order.

As for the AR-15, it was probably with Fergus’s forces and they were welcome to it for the service the troops had performed tonight. “How about we find Fergus and Brannick, see if they need us? If not, I’m thinking I’d like to take you home.”

“Sounds good.”

When he turned toward the main path, it would have been a natural time to let go of her hand, but he didn’t want to. Instead, he felt a primal need to make a show of it. He saw the way many of the shifter males looked at Emma, like something they wanted to devour. And he never lost sight of the fact she’d once loved an alpha.

~ ~ ~

Emma’s heart rate soared, but it had nothing to do with fear. Instead, she couldn’t believe Vaughn hadn’t released her hand. In the
alter
world, it was a clear signal that he thought of her as his woman and every other man present should back off.

She didn’t miss how many gazes slid to their joined hands as they walked by. A lot of the men even took a small step back as a result.

Shifters were generally a gregarious bunch and many of them congratulated both Vaughn and herself for setting up and taking part in the rescue.

Vaughn asked one of the shifters where Fergus was and got directions that involved taking a side detour. The destination proved to be a large rowdy bar about a mile distant from the storage unit site.

She and Vaughn found Brannick in the center of the bar standing beside Fergus, laughing with him. The men were about the same massive size as Vaughn, though slightly shorter and each almost as handsome.

The first thing she did was ask for an update. “What happened with the gun battle? Did any of Loghry and his crew get hit? I mean, I’d love to hear that Loghry got shot out of the sky. Nothing would make me happier.”

Fergus shook his head. “No such luck. A couple of his warlocks went down. I had my men haul them to the morgue. But a general consensus among my pack is that Loghry initiated some kind of spell for himself. A black cloud hung over the storage facility, blocking out the night sky in that direction. Once the shooting stopped, the cloud and Loghry were gone. Wish I had better news for you.”

Emma sighed then shrugged. “It was too much to hope for, but the girls are all safe?”

At that, Fergus smiled. “All safe and headed home.”

“Well that’s the only important news anyway. And thanks again, Fergus and Brannick, for being part of this. I’m more grateful than I can possibly express.”

Both men nodded. Vaughn squeezed her hand and smiled down at her, his eyes warm with affection.

“So what do you think of this place?” Fergus swept his hand to encompass the shifter hang-out.

“I think it’s great. Elegance doesn’t have nearly enough clubs or bars that bring its people together just for fun.” That was the exact truth. Most of the clubs serviced the sex trade and the humans who arrived in droves nightly to take advantage of it. Five Bridges had a long way to go.

The bar had a large sand pit in the center designed for pack challenges when a male wanted to make a bid for alpha status. But it was also used for public fist fights and occasionally full-on wolf fang battles, both of which shifters loved to participate in and watch. Max had told her about them and had hoped, once he got his pack used to her as his mate, to take her to see one.

As Vaughn entered a spirited conversation with Fergus and Brannick, her memories grew clouded with her time as Max’s chosen mate. She’d loved the big wolf. She’d felt such guilt that he’d died the way he did, ambushed when he’d returned from a long weekend at her home. He’d barely crossed the bridge into Savage Territory when he’d been shot and killed.

“Hello, Emma. How are you?”

Emma recognized the raspy wolf voice and a shudder ran through her.

Dagen.

He’d spoken quietly, and she suspected his intention was to make sure Vaughn didn’t hear him.

Still holding Vaughn’s hand, she pivoted slightly toward the alpha who had taken over Max’s pack. Vaughn stayed put since he was still engaged in what sounded like a loud though friendly debate with Fergus.

Dagen stood a couple of feet away, flanked by two of his powerful pack-mates. Emma now stood at a right-angle to Vaughn. Very clever of the wolf.

“You know what I think about you, Dagen. There’s no need for small talk, so why don’t you and your friends just move along.”

He spoke in a low voice. “You’ve always misunderstood me. I’ve protected you in ways you can’t even imagine. I merely wanted to congratulate you. I heard about the good deed you and your vampire friend just accomplished.” He lifted a bottle of beer to her. When his gaze fell to her hand still held in Vaughn’s warm clasp, his eyes darkened and his lips turned down.

She couldn’t get over the feeling Dagen had always thought of her as belonging to him. It made no sense, yet she could feel his anger.

He was a bit shorter than Max had been, and fell a couple of inches shy of Vaughn. But Dagen had powerful shoulders and arms, exposed by a leather jacket with the sleeves cut off and dotted with at least two dozen spiked silver studs. He worked out and it showed. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his lean, muscled body.

He had dark ferret-like eyes always on the move. He wore his blackish brown hair in a Mohawk, his scalp on the sides shaved clean and bearing a series of skull tattoos along the space above each ear.

He had a lot of charisma and women went for him. He wore black leathers treated with the same spiked studs down the outer seams. Steel-toed boots made a horrific promise to anyone falling during a mano-a-mano battle with him.

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig.

Dagen had made a play for her after Max died, but she’d never had the smallest interest in the shifter. He was all sleaze, and she knew in her gut he was the one who had assassinated Max.

When Vaughn turned toward her, Dagen moved a few feet away, his beta guards with him.

Vaughn’s grip tightened on her hand. “That’s Dagen, isn’t it?”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“He looks different with the Mohawk, but I remember him from when I was hunting for my sister. What did he say to you?”

She switched to telepathy. Shifters had excellent hearing, and she didn’t want her conversation with Vaughn reported by anyone eavesdropping.
Would you believe he wanted to congratulate us on rescuing the girls?

Like he gives a shit.

Exactly.

Dagen stood a few yards distant. He was still watching her, but he hadn’t yet made eye-contact with Vaughn. When he did, it wouldn’t be good.

Vaughn growled softly, a very
alter
kind of sound.
He’s after you, Em. I can smell it from here.

I know he is, but I’ve never understood why. It’s like he’s obsessed. Maybe he thinks that because I was with Max, I should belong to him now, sort of an alpha thing.

Whatever it is, he’s pissing me off.

She felt the tension in his body and because of it, she turned toward him, which forced Vaughn to focus on her.

Listen to me. If you start something here, you’ll have to finish it in a one-on-one fight.
She inclined her head toward the sand pit.
You don’t want to do that. Dagen won’t battle with honor, and he’ll kill you if he can.

She saw that Vaughn’s fangs were low on his lips.
Sorry, Em, but it may not be up to me.

The entire tenor of the room changed in a heartbeat.

The predatory wolf energy Dagen emitted as he now glared at Vaughn, brought his pack moving closer to him. In addition, the swell of male energy radiating from Vaughn alerted all the testosterone in the room a fight was in the making.

Dagen sauntered closer, moving to stand in front of Emma once more. He grimaced as he looked Vaughn up and down.

“So, what do you think, Emma? Could this vampire beat me in the pit?”

“Go to hell, Dagen. We’re not here to fight.”

He shifted his gaze to Emma. “I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I was ready to take you as my mistress, to be seen with you even though you’re a witch and some of my pack wouldn’t approve.”

She could feel Vaughn bristling and knew how badly this could end. So, she did the only sensible thing she could think of.

She drew her right fist back and slugged Dagen as hard as she could, square on the jaw. What she hadn’t counted on was an increased physical capacity that felt more vampire than witch.

Holy shit! She watched Dagen’s head snap back, he lost his footing, slammed against a table, then slid to the floor. The whole room emitted a collective gasp.

For a long moment, Emma was startled. But she collected herself quickly, knowing she needed to follow up her assault with a few carefully chosen words. “Leave me alone, Dagen. Max was the only shifter I wanted, and he’s dead. Now I’m with Vaughn, a Crescent Border Patrol officer I respect and admire, so get over yourself.”

Brannick moved to stand next to Vaughn, while Fergus drew close to Emma. She could feel Fergus’s pack moving in to support their alpha just as Dagen’s pack had started gathering behind him.

Emma felt the situation teeter on the brink of disaster, but the last thing she wanted was a bar brawl on her account.

Dagen’s eyes glittered as he stared up at her. When he rose to his feet, Fergus took a couple of steps forward, not quite blocking her from Dagen, but close. “We don’t want trouble, Dagen. Not with so much to celebrate. Emma made her decision clear to you five years ago, and I need you to back off.
Now
.” The last word carried a kind of wolf-strength that resounded through the space.

Emma watched as the shifters all over the bar continued to align into packs, some moving in support of Dagen, others closing in around Fergus, very typical of Savage.

But why did Dagen have to start something?

Vaughn hadn’t moved either. He stood rigid beside Emma, his hands in tight fists. The vampire was ready to fight.

Finally, Dagen slid his gaze from Emma to Fergus. He squared his shoulders. “I’ve disrupted things tonight. And I apologize. Everyone knows I’ve cared about Emma, because I should have been there to protect Max. I meant no disrespect.”

Liar. He was such a liar. She wanted to hit him again.

Emma shook with hatred for the man. He might be respected because of his alpha status, but he was pure evil. He embodied the psychotic quality that had sunk Five Bridges into a nightmare in the first place.

Suddenly, the triplets appeared, though moving higher in the air. Becca waved at Emma but she looked distressed.
What is it, Becca?

Dagen. We just discovered he has a connection to Loghry. He might even be working for him.

Loghry and Dagen. Sounded like a match made in hell.

Thanks for letting me know.

She squeezed Vaughn’s hand.
Did you see Becca just now?

Yes. She didn’t look very happy.

Vaughn, she thinks Dagen might be working for Loghry. We need to get the hell out of here.

Let’s do it.

Aloud she said, “I’m ready to head home.”

He slid his arm around her waist. “Then we should go.”

Emma glanced at Dagen. He wore an arrested expression on his face, almost calculating. She saw his hand slide into his pants pocket. He turned his back on Emma, but she watched him pull his phone to his ear.

Yep, Dagen and Loghry.

Vaughn, Dagen’s on his phone.

I see him. I’ve already told Brannick what’s going on. He’s talking to Fergus now, getting a plan together to get us out of Savage. We won’t be able to fly out. Brannick and I both agree that Loghry and his men could still be up there waiting for us.

Couldn’t we fly using your disguising shield?

We don’t want to take the chance that Loghry has a vampire in his employ. A vampire would see through the shield.

Okay. Got it.

I’ll fill you in as soon as I hear back.

Fergus led the way out of the bar, his phone to his ear as well. He spoke quietly, his gaze moving back and forth, always checking the terrain. Brannick brought up the rear.

The shifters belonging to Fergus’s Gordion Pack had lined up protectively on either side of the path to the door. They were ready to do battle if needed.

She didn’t really take a decent breath until she was outside and Vaughn telepathically relayed Fergus’s plan to get them out of the territory by way of a van. They would need to move swiftly through the forest first to avoid being followed, which meant not taking the usual paths.

Vaughn offered up his booted foot and she climbed on board. She’d found it simple to levitate through an unobstructed airspace, but she wasn’t nearly so confident among all these trees.

Fergus shifted and flew like the wind on four paws, heading into the darkest part of the forest. Emma hugged Vaughn and kept her face buried against his shoulder. She wasn’t used to watching trees flying at her. But she trusted Vaughn, who’d been levitating for eleven years, ever since he first became a vampire.

With so many twists, turns and double-backs through the pines, Emma had no idea which part of Savage she was in once they stopped moving. By the time she dove into the van alongside Vaughn, and the doors slammed shut, she happily accepted his strong arms once more. Savage roads sucked.