At Blade's Edge (8 page)

The Blood Front would be stupid to send Vampires or even daytime help to this place. Vampires from some very old and powerful houses glided through the gallery.

Though Rowan and her people had kicked ass in Venice and decimated the ranks of the Blood Front, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe they were totally vanquished. But they’d been burned to the ground and whatever was left had scattered.

And it wasn’t Rowan they needed to fear. Because The First had sent out his personal boogeymen, The Five, to thoroughly investigate just how many Vampires were involved and then set about executing them. One entire line had been eliminated.

No, the male who’d just now begun to scan the gallery anew to relocate her, was human. A sorcerer, which meant he might be a link between Roth and whoever he was working with.

She wanted to punch someone so bad she could taste it.

Starting out, Rowan had felt worse about having to get mean with humans than with Vampires. She’d since dealt with plenty of humans who needed someone bigger and badder to be mean to them.

Bullies were really the problem. Cowards. Petty and vicious, no matter their origin story.

As such, Rowan figured they needed to be knocked down for the good of everyone else.

Her blade was back at the house, but she had knives at her calves, which she retrieved; once she was ready, she let the human see her heading out a back door leading to the narrow lane between two buildings leading to the street.

The gallery was located in a tony neighborhood that had been a scary one back when Rowan had lived in London. The cold-water flats had been rehabbed, the buildings now full of super expensive condos.

Gentrification was everywhere.

Even close to midnight there was some foot traffic and the occasional cab or car driving past. But it was quiet enough that once Rowan got herself in place, she could hear the noise from the gallery.

Quiet enough that within two minutes the scuffle of footsteps approached from the sidewalk facing the road. Though he made an attempt to keep close to the buildings and be stealthy, he wasn’t very successful.

It was downright insulting that they’d sent this oaf after her. Whoever
they
were in this case.

Rowan was on him in two movements once he neared, spinning him to slam his back against a nearby wall.

He squawked until she cut off his air with her forearm across his throat. “Shut up or I’ll shut you up,” Rowan snarled in his ear. The magic they’d used before had come from chanting. If he tried it, she’d live her dream and punch him in the throat.

He continued to struggle but she had him pinned and soon enough, he didn’t have the air to struggle so he finally gave up.

She eased back a bit to allow some oxygen through, but kept him immobile. “Don’t try magic or I’ll snap your neck. Goddess, why do you all waste my fucking time this way? You’re going to tell me and I’ll happily beat you down if you don’t share on your own. So. You have enough air and one minute to tell me what you’re doing following me. Don’t waste either of those things with denials.”

He clamped his lips closed so she sliced up his side with one of her knives. Enough to really hurt. Enough to really bleed but not bleed out. Enough to do some damage to his muscles.

His scream couldn’t escape over the hand she’d clamped over his mouth. Sweat and blood filled Rowan’s senses.

Fear.

She leaned closer and breathed deep. Brigid flexed and heated inside Rowan’s belly. Part of Rowan reveled in it, fed on it just as much as the Goddess did.

“Time’s a wastin’,” Rowan told him in a voice that wasn’t entirely her own. The Goddess had awakened.

He trembled, which annoyed her even more so she punched him in the nose.

“I don’t even like you, so it’s not as if I feel bad about beating you up. Especially after you assholes have been trying to kill me and mine pretty much nonstop for the last few years. But I have a prior engagement to get back to.”

He cried out as she moved her hand and she gave him a shot to the kidney.

“No one is coming to save you. You’re cannon fodder. A message that they know I’m here. But I knew that. I
allowed
myself to be seen.” Rowan gave him a moment, noted with satisfaction the fear flooding his features. But when he didn’t speak, she lashed out again, leaving a weal of blood down his face and neck and another across his chest.

“She’ll kill me!” he sobbed.

“You guys always say that. It’s so dumb because I’m killing you right now. You need to prioritize your to-do list.” Blood spattered on her blouse and she cursed, slapping his face. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be to get blood out of this? You’re why we can’t have nice things.” She patted him down, removing his gun and noting the silver ammo in the clip.

Interesting. Whether they thought it would harm her or if it was for someone else like Clive or Antonia, she didn’t know yet, but it was something to add to the list.

Breaking him was going to take some action that required more incentive for him to talk. And that meant she needed to get him off the street. That sort of persuasion needed privacy.

As Rowan pondered whether or not to knock him out and drag him to get a cab, or if she’d have David send over a car, footsteps sounded several feet away and the narrow space filled with the power of an old Vampire.

The perfume hit and she realized it was Antonia who’d come outside.

Shit.

Rowan tried to keep her body between her mother-in-law and her newly invigorated prisoner. “I need you to go back inside. This is work related. I’ll call you when it’s safe to leave and head home,” she called out.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! You’ll do no such thing. I can help.”

What
?

Gone was the sugary coo, replaced with a steady, take-charge delivery and apparently, profanity.

Clive was going to be so mad at her that she reduced his mother to saying bad words.

“I’ve got this. Really.”

Antonia was at her side in the blink of an eye. “I’m an old power. Hunter or no, I’m fully capable of protecting myself. Though this wretch isn’t much to worry over.”

“What’s the deal with your voice?” Rowan asked.

Antonia laughed. “I needed to know you were the right match for my son. I needed to know who the person I was letting into our lives was.”

“So you
faked
it? To fuck with my head you pretended to be an awful person?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t just love me from the moment we met!” Antonia put on that voice again like an old coat.

Rowan shook her head, amazed and impressed. “You’re a total psycho. I’ve wanted to punch you in the throat at least fifty times.”

Antonia beamed. “I know! It’s been ever so fun. Like a masquerade ball. I’ve called the car around. Ah, here’s the driver.”

Rowan cocked her fist back to knock out their prisoner, who’d gone silent as he’d taken in the exchange between the women but Antonia stopped her.

“I don’t have Clive’s abilities to reach in and take memories, but I think this sweet gentleman would love to accompany us to the car.” Antonia let her glamour flow until Rowan nearly drowned in it as she latched on to their prisoner—nice to have it be someone else for a change—who walked happily to the trunk and jumped inside.

“Please tell me you said the F word before we met,” Rowan said as they got into the car and the driver headed back to the house.

“Of course I have. It’s a very old word.”

“Old like you?”

Antonia thought that was hilarious as she laughed, leaning over to rest a hand on Rowan’s shoulder briefly. “I’d planned to come clean about all this earlier, but it was too much fun so I didn’t.”

“Yesterday I couldn’t imagine where Clive came from because there was no way he could have come from you. I’m seeing it now.”

“Are you upset?” Antonia asked.

“That you tried to gaslight me? Nah, it’s pretty funny. Though I’ll deny it if you recount that I said such a thing. I’m relieved your voice isn’t really a cooing sugarfest. I was waiting for the pet names to go with all that tulle and neon froth. Neon. Jesus.” Antonia better watch her back though, because Rowan
would
get even.

When they arrived at the house, Rowan had their prisoner brought to the garage attached to the mews house where David waited, with Clive, who was busily frowning before Rowan had even gotten through the door.

After a quick look at Clive to assure herself he was fine and in one piece, Rowan turned to her valet. “David, strap this shithead to a chair. No, don’t tend to his wounds. He can bleed to death or tell me what I need to know.”

Clive took her in, including the blood on her clothing and then his mother. He did a double take then as he took in her clothing. “I’m not entirely sure I want to hear this story.”

Not even a hello-it’s-been-a-while hug? Just straight into grumpy dad mode?

Rowan indicated Antonia. “Take your mother home like a good son. I’ll be here torturing Chester when you return.”

“Chester? Did you find his name?” Antonia leaned closer.

“No. He just looks like a Chester. “

Antonia cocked her head. “Alfie?”

Rowan wrinkled her nose. “I know a very cool dog named Alfie.”

“Well, let’s not insult that Alfie then. Chester it is.”

“Don’t involve my mother in your affairs, Rowan,” Clive said with infinite patience, which pushed Rowan’s buttons.

Rowan looked him up and down—he looked fucking awesome, of course—and gave him her best raised brow. “I’m
sure
you did not just say that to me. In any case, I need to work. Get out and take your psycho mother with you.”

Clive winced as Antonia laughed again, hugging Rowan before stepping away once more.

Clive looked back and forth between Rowan and Antonia. Rowan noted the moment he decided not to pursue the whole story and then the next moment when he tossed that out and decided he needed to hear it all because he was a control-freak nutjob.

Wanting to forestall that, Rowan pointed in Antonia’s direction. “She’ll tell you on the way to your country home, or manor, whatever you call it.” Rowan looked at her mother-in-law, “I’ll see your crazy ass soon enough I’m sure.”

“You shall. We need to plan some things. But they can wait until tomorrow,” Antonia told her and then hooked her arm through Clive’s, tugging him toward the door.

He pulled free, left his mother at the door, stalked over and yanked Rowan into his arms before he laid one hell of a kiss on her.

Fire. Need. Possession.

This was the kiss of a man who had returned home from the wars and meant to underline his presence.

Every part of her should have been outraged instead of tingly and swoony. The only time she got swoony was when she bled too much.

His taste seemed to melt into her and her annoyance eased some. Mainly because all that lust needed a place and the anger had to go.

He pulled away after nipping her bottom lip so hard it was slightly swollen when he licked over it.

“Speechless?” he murmured wearing a smirk. “Shocking. I missed you, Rowan. I’ll be back shortly. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

With one last kiss to her forehead, he spun on his heel and escorted his mother out.

Chapter Seven

“You have a driver. Why am I accompanying you?” Clive asked his mother as she hauled him through the house toward her car. “And why are you dressed like this?”

“You’ve made your wife angry so she sent you away. Really, Clive, your father is so much better at this. You should watch him at work.”

He hadn’t even done anything to make her angry! And he certainly had not asked his mother for marital advice.

“And you appear to be an extra in a music video from the early days of MTV why?”

“
You
appear to have a great deal of why based questions, sweetheart. Perhaps a university refresher philosophy class?”

He aimed her at the driver who’d opened the back door of the car for them. “I need to get back to Rowan. Clearly a caper of some sort has occurred and I’d like to hear about it from her.”

His mother put a hand at her hip and glared his way. “You’ll do no such thing. Get in the car. If you go back to her now you’ll only lose the ground you gained when you kissed her. I’ll tell you what I know on the way.”

He was only thirty years younger than she. And by the time one hit their two-century mark, the decades meant less and less. But she was every bit his mother. Even though he outranked all but less than a dozen Vampires on the planet, Clive sighed and gave over to her, sliding in after her, letting the door close behind him.

As they pulled away, she turned on music and he cringed and wished he had earplugs.

“If we listen to music I won’t be able to hear you tell me what the hell went on with you and Rowan before I arrived.”

She bounced in her seat a little as she sang along for a bit. “Not until this song is over. You know how much I love this one.”

He studiously avoided the driver’s eyes in the rearview.

Finally, she finished her rousing sing along to Yaz and settled back into her seat.

Clive turned his body toward her. “Start at the beginning.”

“I pretended to be a rather terrible version of me to see just how Rowan would handle it.”

Stunned to silence, he blinked as she continued.

“I dug in the back of my closet, found some of my old favorites from the eighties, the 1980s, I mean, and headed to your house to take her measure.”

Clive started to interrupt but she sent him a look that told him she’d be very dissatisfied if he did, so he kept it shut.

“I was awful. I clung to her. Spoke in a baby voice. Threatened to announce your marriage to her to the social elite Vampires here in London. Insulted her taste. The usual.”

His mother stopped speaking as they pulled into a lot where another car waited.

“You had that human in the car. We can’t be certain he didn’t leave a tracker or some sort of spell,” the driver explained before Clive could ask. “I had another car brought here so we can swap. Once I’m convinced it’s clear, I’ll switch it back.”

“I like this new driver your father foisted on me,” his mother said over her shoulder as they transferred to the waiting car while the other was whisked away somewhere else.

He sincerely doubted anyone foisted anything on Antonia without her consent. She knew what a terrible driver she was and it was far easier to have someone else deal with traffic and parking so she went along with it. That the driver was clearly a well-trained bodyguard was a bonus. Clive wished Rowan would allow such a thing.

He smiled to himself in the dark. She didn’t like to feel confined or controlled, his Hunter.

“You were about to tell me why it is you’d go out of your way to make sure my wife doesn’t like you.”

“Being the mate of a Scion is an important position. I wanted to see if she could handle it. It takes a certain type of person to do it justice.”

“She grew up at the knee of The First. You have no idea what she’s endured and how well she’s trained. She understands our world better than most Vampires do. I don’t take kindly to her being made to feel unwelcome or unappreciated. Moreover, she has her own life. Her own job to do. She’s so much more than my wife. She’ll never be one for parties and social climbing. I knew that when I chose her.”

“I haven’t seen you this upset over something since you were just a boy.” She waved a hand. “Quit it this instant. I won’t apologize for it. She earned my respect. As for the human she was about to torture, he was following her and has information she needs. I blew my cover—as they say—when I offered to help her with him. Which is the whole story from the beginning and here we are. Come inside to say hello to your father.”

“He’s not here. I called when we landed. He’s out playing cards. I’ll see you both tomorrow when Rowan and I come for dinner. Please don’t wear any colors that hurt my eyes.”

“You’re very saucy.” She looked him over.

“I’ll get my own way back,” Clive told the driver as he escorted his mother to the door. “You’re going to need to tell him about this before we come over tomorrow. I’m sure you didn’t inform him you were at my home, poking my wife with a stick.”

“I did no such thing!” She protested so fast he knew he’d been right.

“Good night, Mother.” He bowed his head to her and stepped back.

Her laughter danced on the breeze as he rose and headed back home.

Betchamp took his things as he entered. “She’s still in the mews house.”

Clive nodded his thanks as he walked past but Rowan wasn’t in the mews house as Betchamp had thought. She stood in the center of the garden, her face tipped up to the night sky. Her power—not Brigid’s power, but Rowan’s own, essential being—shone around her like a halo.

Tough as she was, it still took a toll. Meting out the sort of justice she routinely did came with edges and blood. Rowan faced that without flinching. She made no excuses for what she did, though she did nothing without reason, however ugly.

“I didn’t expect you to return so quickly,” she said quietly.

“They only live ten minutes from here. I flew back. I apologize for what she did. Her silly test. You need no such thing. I chose you and that’s what matters most.”

Her laugh was genuine enough for the short moment it existed. “She’s a total whackjob and I kind of love her even if she’s one of those clichéd Vampires who got imprinted on a Wham video.”

Clive shuddered. “Every fifty or so years she shifts to something else. Rest assured she doesn’t normally dress that way, though she does have a terrible fondness for the music of the time.”

“Not everyone’s favorite band was Beethoven.”

“Having been to many of his performances personally, I can attest most truly that he is better than Wham.” Clive sniffed just to hear her snort in reply. “I’m also sorry I assumed you’d wrangled her into something. She’s as stubborn as you are. I never should have forgotten that.”

“We’ve already agreed I’m a bad influence. Anyway it’s fine. It’s over, unless your father is also going to be weird?”

“He’s strange in his own way, but he won’t pantomime someone else to get a rise out of you. We’ll go to dinner there tomorrow night, if you can give me the time?”

If he’d told her they were going, she’d have seized up and rebelled for the sake of being contrary. So he asked, because he did respect her job and he knew she’d hear it better that way.

“It’s unavoidable I suppose.” She paused but he didn’t pursue it, waiting as patiently as he could for her to give him the rest. “Have you eaten?” she asked.

Clive knew that wasn’t what she’d been thinking.

“I’ve fed. When did
you
eat last?”

“Your mother showed up before I could even have my tea. I’ve spent the last day wondering just how the fuck you could have come from her. It was a relief to figure out she was just toying with me.”

“Do you need help with Chester? Did you get what you needed?”

She sighed. “Yes. I wish it wasn’t so cloudy tonight.”

He worried that they’d never get to the end point. Never reach a place where they were done and everyone was safe and they could live in peace.

Centuries of experience had only reinforced his tendency for concern. His entire lifetime there had been war.

One human war after the next, all the while the Vampires fought with the human precursors to Hunter Corporation and the magic wielders of all stripes carried on in the shadows, spilling into humanity from time to time.

Things had been simmering for some time and it looked like they’d only continue that way. That was a great deal of weight for his woman to bear.

But she would. So he’d protect her all he could.

“We should eat. Elisabeth was in the kitchen when I arrived so I’m sure she’s made you something good. You can fill me in on what you’ve learned.”

“I need to shower first. Then I’ll meet you in the kitchen to eat.”

He followed her upstairs and into the living room that connected her space to his.

“I’m fine, Clive. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“If I did that I’d miss the sight of you in the shower. Which seems rather silly of me, don’t you think? Who’d want to let go of that opportunity? Certainly not an intelligent man, and I’m very intelligent.”

“Modest too,” she said as she shucked her clothes. “That asshole got blood on my blouse. David is magic with that sort of thing and I suspect Betchamp knows a few things about blood removal. The pants are in better shape. This is why you shouldn’t buy me nice stuff.”

“I know we’ve covered this before, darling.” Clive didn’t bother to get annoyed. Complaining was Rowan’s way of letting go of whatever shit she carried around all the time.

“How do you have so much money when you throw it away on chauffeur salaries and silk blouses for your wife who promptly gets blood spatter on them because she has to torture dumbasses she asks nicely for information?”

Naked, she stomped into the huge shower stall and he after her.

“Getting blood out of clothing is something most people who work for Vampires know how to do. And I’m quite sure David has it all in hand. Because that’s what he does. Now stop talking about that damned shirt. You’re naked and slippery and I’m about to ravish you.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. Not coy in a deliberate sense. Maybe even a little shy.

Her anger was her shield and he wanted to tear it from her so he could have total access to her. All of her.

But to do that would strip her of the defenses she’d had to build from the earliest in her life. So he reminded himself of that and resolved to continue slowly chipping away at her walls. He didn’t need her to open up to the world, just him.

He maneuvered her under the shower spray and a tight knot in his belly loosened when she sighed, letting out all her tension as he began to massage her scalp. She often did the same for him when he’d had a particularly hard night.

The feel of her under his hands, against his body, so lithe and real, full of power and strength, was enough to catch his breath. That she was so vibrant and yet fragile in places only made Clive love her more.

Want her more.

It drove him. Even when he wasn’t around her he wanted her. With his hands sliding all over her body he still knew he’d never get enough of her. She was his weakness and his greatest strength.

When he took her breasts into his hands, thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples, she made a sound, one of his favorites, a groaning snarl that was
more more more
. He loved that sound.

“Just a quick one now,” he murmured, letting some of his glamour rove over her along with his hands. “You’ll eat after and then we’ll resume where we left off.”

“Goddess, I’m a mess. I should not find it sexy that you even have orgasms scheduled. But I do.”

Surprised laughter filled him. “I’m glad I can amuse you.”

“Make me come and amuse me. That’s even better. Fuck me already.”

Her lazy command hardened his resolve even as he ached to be inside her. “Magnificent,” he said as he slid one hand down her belly, loving the way her muscles fluttered in his wake.

It was the word he thought of most often when it came to her. She did nothing in half measures. No matter the weight, she bore it with a ferocity that seemed to burn just inside her.

She arched into his touch, not shy about what she wanted. He loved that too. Loved that she demanded what she needed.

“More,” she said as he teased a fingertip over her clit.

“I have this under control, darling.”

Her laugh was nearly a giggle, which made him feverish to have her. He’d wanted slow. Wanted to seduce every inch of her, savoring, treasuring. They’d been apart only eight days, but it had been too long when before he’d had her every day. Gotten used to her presence in his life in far more intimate quarters.

He’d lived alone for a long time. It suited him. He liked his space and his autonomy. Rowan hadn’t been part of his plans. She’d broken windows in his life and rumpled all his sheets and left crumbs in his keyboard.

He’d known she was it for him when all that prickly, chaotic energy she brought with her made his life better. Less predictable in a lot of ways, but in the most important he had total surety.

Rowan was the balance he’d never known he’d needed. He’d happily brush crumbs out of his keyboard to have her.

She tipped her head, exposing her throat, letting him have her vulnerability. He tasted the salt of her skin, absorbing her.

She spun in his arms and climbed him, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Now.”

He cursed, backing her to the tile to hold her in place. She writhed as the head of his cock brushed over her clit several times.

“Missed you,” she said quietly as she kissed his neck and along his jaw.

He held her tighter.

He’d come home.

He teased around the entrance to her body, hot and so very slick. Rowan bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, however temporary. Unable to resist any longer, he thrust up into her.

Her nails dug into his sides where she urged him on, urged him deeper. She’d break the skin if she kept on and he wanted that so bad he shook with it.

Levering up his body a little, she kissed him hard and fast as he began to fuck into her slow and deep. It wasn’t until he tasted her blood that he realized she’d deliberately drawn her bottom lip against his incisors.