Bite Deep (24 page)

* * *

Ice flooded Lydia's veins as she watched Jericho's eyes change to a canine shape, glinting silver. Then, in a blink, he was normal again. Human. It had only been a moment, one terrible moment stretched out in time.

How was this possible
?

He raised a hand towards her to brush the side of her face and part of her wanted to recoil in horror, but another part was fascinated. Jericho wasn't evil, this she was sure of.

The brush of his fingertips was light and she flinched, suddenly imagining what he would look like if he … changed.

‘Did you know my mother?' She shifted back, needing space. Jericho dropped his hand, and walked back to the bed, sitting down. ‘No. But I do know she used to belong to the coven that used to operate here.'

‘Coven?' Lydia spluttered. ‘What?'

‘You know.' He shifted, looking uncomfortable. ‘Witches.'

Lydia rubbed her eyes, wishing she hadn't drunk quite so much schnapps. ‘I'm sorry, but I'm finding that very difficult to believe.'

‘Do you want me to go on?' he asked her.

‘Why not?' Lydia sighed. ‘Tell me everything.'

‘I understand your mother used to work for the Gatehouse Group for a while, doing research. Probably how she met your father. I suspect she didn't know who the Gatehouse was initially.'

‘And who are they?'

‘The public face for the Association of Breed Hunters.'

‘Okay.' Lydia squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Okay. Dominic said you had a treaty in place with the Hunters.' She hesitated, eyes opening and a frown settling on her face. ‘But since Coulter's here, I'm taking a guess something has happened?'

Jericho didn't hesitate to explain what he'd been doing about hunting Anna's killer and Lydia's eyes stayed sharp as she listened. When he'd finished, she was quiet for a long moment. Jericho stayed where he was on the bed. His being naked didn't make her uncomfortable, which surprised her. In fact, she felt safe with him sitting a few feet from her, waiting patiently for her to digest everything. Not that she'd let him touch her again in a hurry, with the memory of his altered face seared in her mind's eye.

‘So, explain to me why there aren't there more Hunters in Camden?' she asked. ‘You mentioned a treaty, how is it upheld?'

Jericho cleared his throat. ‘The treaty stated that no Hunter was to set foot in Camden. It was brokered by a powerful coven.' He nodded at her. ‘Your mother's coven. This magic protected Camden, ensuring the treaty was enforced through spiritual means.'

‘Spiritual means?' Lydia repeated faintly. ‘You mean … like a spell?'

‘One that struck down any Hunter that dared to step foot in Camden. Beyond that, I don't know anything about witches.' He gave a casual shrug. ‘And I'm sure there's more to being a Hunter than just a name.' At least, he hoped that was true. He knew Hunters were well protected by the Association, with fathers often recruiting their own sons or daughters to the cause. He'd also heard rumours about them dabbling in genetic manipulation and claims of being close to a cure for the Breed virus. Which made him very, very interested in the case Coulter had given Lydia. ‘I suspect your father was a Hunter who came here, maybe to check on the work your mother was doing, maybe to hunt our kind.'

‘I never knew him,' Lydia said. ‘My father, I mean. My mother said he just left when I was a baby. She never liked to talk about him.'

Jericho heard a trace of pain in her voice and quickly changed the subject. ‘Do you know what was in the files Coulter took?'

She shrugged. ‘I'm not sure. It had blood-work reports and looked like some sort of biology of your kind.'

He was about to press her about the files when they both heard the creak of a floorboard. Jericho shot off the bed and got to the door before her, holding a hand up to keep her back.

‘Let me handle this,' he whispered.

‘Like hell.' She tried to shove him aside. ‘I'm a cop, remember?'

He grabbed her arm and jerked her back. ‘This is Breed business.'

Lydia's mouth snapped open to point out he was lucky she had been there to save his goddamn life, when the door opened to reveal a grizzly man with an eye patch.

‘Let me know when you're both finished being
really
quiet back there,' he said. ‘So we can wrap up this hump-fest with your girlfriend and get back home.'

Chapter 24

The next morning, Lydia woke early after a restless night and hurried to the main house, anxious to check on the Solbergs. The house was quiet, the cold chilling her bones, and with guilt sitting heavy in her gut she set about making some bacon and pancakes, her default cheer-up breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, Dominic strolled into the kitchen, sniffing the air as she cooked pancakes on a heavy skillet. She nodded towards the kitchen table, where she'd laid out plates, maple syrup, plump strawberries and a plate of glistening streaky bacon.

‘I thought you and Greta might appreciate some breakfast,' she said.

‘Smells delicious.' Dominic sat at the table and started helping himself.

Lydia heaved the skillet to the table and unloaded the last of the fluffy pancakes on the pile, trying not to think too much about her conversation with Jericho last night.

After he'd left, she'd slept on the bed he'd been in, catching a whiff of his scent on the pillow now and then. Her dreams had been pleasant, dancing around the memory of Jericho's body, the heavy tattoos on his arm and the way he had moved towards her. He wasn't embarrassed about being naked in front of her and after she'd seen
all
of him, she knew he had little reason. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory. She forced the image of Jericho out of her mind and returned to the table to pour coffee for Dominic and herself.

‘How did you and Greta sleep?' She sat down and took a sip of her coffee. She felt responsible for what happened to the German couple. After all, Coulter only came to the house because she had mentioned the files.

‘She slept just fine. My wife is made of stern stuff.' Dominic drowned his pancakes in syrup and eyed off the bacon plate with a longing look. He hesitated, then forked two pieces onto his plate. ‘How did Jericho manage?'

Lydia took a bite out of a pancake, tasting sawdust. ‘Left around midnight.'

‘His men came for him?'

‘An old biker with an eye patch.'

Dominic nodded. ‘Frank Turk. He used to come here with Jericho, would hang around on his bike out the front and wait for him. Until Greta discouraged him from coming here.'

Lydia gave a small smile. ‘Discouraged?'

Dominic gave her a wink. ‘She caught him smoking pot one time and let him know what she thought about that.'

‘I'm guessing they didn't come back.'

Dominic gave her a wink. ‘Would you?'

‘Was Jericho any good at chess?'

He laughed. ‘He was the worst chess player I have ever played with. Half the time he would just hunker down and glower at me, like he wanted to shove his Queen down my throat.'

‘How did you come to know of Breed?' Lydia asked. ‘I mean, last night you told me a little about them, but you kind of glossed over how you discovered them.'

‘I'm certain we told you.' Dominic stared intently at his bacon.

‘I'm pretty sure you didn't,' Lydia pressed, feeling it was important to know.

‘Good morning.' Greta walked into the room, yawning. She wore a cotton dressing gown, short hair at all angles. The lump on her forehead had gone down and a large purple bruise sat on her hairline. Her eyes fell on the bacon on Dominic's plate. ‘What is this? Bacon? Have you lost your mind? What about your diet? Your cholesterol?'

Dominic forked the remaining bacon into his mouth defiantly. ‘After last night, a man needs to fortify himself for the day.'

Instead of arguing, Greta just sat down at the table. Lydia noted the shadows under her eyes and poured her some coffee.

‘How do you feel?' she asked.

Greta's shoulders lifted then fell. ‘I will be fine.'

Lydia sat down and served herself and for the next few moments everyone enjoyed the comforting ritual of eating a cooked breakfast.

‘Now, what were we talking about before I came in?' Greta asked as she poured more syrup over her pancakes. ‘It sounded serious.'

‘I was asking how you and Dominic knew about the Breed,' Lydia said.

Greta set the syrup bottle down, giving Lydia a sad smile. ‘I had a sister here, Catherine. I came here to be with her. But she died unexpectedly, not long after I arrived.'

‘I'm so sorry,' Lydia said.

‘Thank you.' Greta began to carefully cut her pancake into small pieces. ‘She passed suddenly of a heart attack.'

‘That's terrible.' Lydia stared down at her barely touched pancakes, unsure of what to say. She wanted to ask if Greta's sister was Breed, and that's how they knew about them. But if she had been, surely she would have been a resident at Crystal Waters?

‘She was not Breed,' Greta said, as if reading her mind. ‘She was an occultist.'

Dominic choked on his mouthful of pancake. ‘Louise was not an
occultist
. Just as you were not.'

Greta threw her husband a glare. ‘You always took her side. You! With your background. And I never believed in that hocus pocus stuff we did as children. It was all just games, to be left behind with childhood.'

Dominic sighed and looked at Lydia. ‘Her sister was a Wiccan. There was once a coven based here in Camden.' He paused, then added, ‘I had the impression from local gossip your mother was part of that coven.'

‘Yes.' Lydia picked up her coffee mug, taking a sip. ‘So I've been told. I'm not sure it's something I believe though. If my mother was part of some pagan cult, then I knew nothing about it.'

Greta sniffed. ‘I'd heard that as well, but never saw any proof of such a thing.'

‘And do you know about this treaty business between Breed and Hunters?' Lydia asked.

Dominic drained his coffee and poured another. ‘Only that until now, Hunters dared not step foot in Camden.'

‘Look. I'm having a hard time imagining my mother as a witch.' Lydia gave him a level look. ‘Do you really believe that magic exists?'

Dominic tipped his mug towards her with a wink. ‘Never underestimate the power a belief can have.'

‘When we arrived here, my sister explained about the treaty and all about the Breed,' Greta said. ‘I thought she was drunk. It was one thing to mix together a love potion on the stovetop as kids, quite another to claim you could conjure spirits.'

‘And how is it you both got to know Jericho?' Lydia asked, trying to ignore the image of Greta as a little girl, hovering over a bubbling saucepan and muttering spells.

‘He appeared one day, wanting to know if Greta was a Wiccan as well,' Dominic explained. ‘Wanted to meet her, make sure she wasn't anything other than what she claimed her to be. He seemed a friendly enough fellow, if a bit serious.'

Greta shook her head. ‘You were the only one silly enough to allow a pack of wild bikers onto the property.'

‘I enjoyed his company.' Dominic gave an injured sniff. ‘Is that a crime?'

Lydia shook her head, trying to focus on the facts. Regardless of all the fairy tales she'd been hearing, there was one undeniable fact, based on cold, hard facts. Thomas Coulter was a dangerous criminal. He had shot Jericho, nearly killing him, and since she was still the law in the town, something had to be done. Not to mention she'd concluded Coulter might know of who else in town might have a supply of silver bullets stashed under their bed. She glanced at her watch and stood, picking up her plate and walking to the sink.

‘I'm going to call in sick today and go to have an unofficial chat with this Thomas Coulter.' She rinsed her dishes in the sink, then turned to face the couple, her cop face on. ‘He's got to answer for last night.'

Dominic and Greta exchanged a loaded look, then Dominic cleared his throat. ‘I would recommend against any drastic action. The Breed have their own rules and laws, as do the Hunters. To get involved would be a dangerous thing.'

‘Let the Breed take care of him.' Greta waved her fork about. ‘You will only invite more trouble if you cross a Hunter.'

‘He can't exist outside our laws.' Lydia's voice was harsher than she'd intended and she gentled her tone. ‘This isn't some cowboy town, where a man can ride in with a black hat and start doing whatever he wants to.'

Dominic stood, picking up his empty plate and walking to the sink, face contemplative. ‘You must do whatever you think is right, of course. Just keep in mind that by exposing Coulter, you risk exposing the Breed. Which means they may take steps.'

‘What do you mean by
steps
?' Lydia asked.

‘Perhaps it is best not to find out,' Dominic said, concern etched deeply on his face. ‘With Hunters appearing here now, it means something is changing with the balance of things. This is a fight you do not want to be part of.'

‘The Hunter took what he wanted,' Greta said. ‘Soon, he will leave and it will all be done.'

‘I can't just stand aside and do nothing,' Lydia told him.

Greta stared down at her plate, saying no more. With a last glance at Dominic's anxious expression, Lydia headed to her bedroom to change.

She understood the couple's concern and, to a certain extent, knew they were right. But if she didn't uphold the law, then she was just as useless as Bowden in this fight. Her thoughts turned to Jericho and how he'd talked to her, relenting to show her a sliver of the monster within. He'd been more honest with her than Bowden had ever been and the idea of marching into the station and trying to convince the senior sergeant to get a warrant for Coulter didn't sound like a great idea to her. In her mind's eye, she saw Novak and Bowden exchange glances and roll their eyes. After all, she didn't understand how things were done in Camden.