Edge of Desire (22 page)

Riley took in the stranger’s short black hair and pale, ice-blue eyes. “You’re the one who warned Kellan the other night, aren’t you?”

The corner of the man’s mouth kicked up with a wry grin, his rugged, arrogant face showing not a trace of fear. “I’d nod,” he drawled, “but I rather like my throat in one piece. But, yeah, that was me.”

“And just who the hell
are
you?” Riley asked, slipping the Glock back into his holster.

“Call off your brother,” the stranger murmured, “and I’ll be happy to tell you everything, including what I know.”

Riley nodded at Ian, and his brother snarled as he lowered his hand, shoving the guy away from him.

“Now, first things first,” the man said. “Right now, there are about fifteen more of Westmore’s men closing in on you.”

As if in response to his words, several figures rushed from the shadowed forest and surrounded them, the pouring rain having made it impossible to scent their approach. Though the men didn’t carry any weapons, every last one of them was fanged, their eyes burning with the now familiar flickering glow of red.

Facing their attackers, the four men backed into a tight circle, while Riley slanted a dark look toward the blue-eyed stranger who stood on his left. “If you know how to kill these bastards,” he snarled, “now might be a good time to share it.”

“Only wood can kill them,” the man said in a low voice.

“Wood?” he grunted. “Are you friggin’ serious?”

The stranger nodded. “Sounds bizarre, I know. But the only way to take them down is to stake them through the heart with solid wood.”

Shrader made a rude sound in the back of his throat, reaching behind him to slip his gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Are we seriously going to listen to this prick?” he grunted, releasing the deadly claws and fangs
of his beast, his eyes glowing a bright, glittering amber in the stormy darkness.

“We can argue later,” the man said. “Right now, I suggest we pick up any branches we can find and start taking them down.”

“I have a better idea,” Riley muttered, cutting his gaze up toward the windblown branches of the trees, the storm-tossed limbs reminding him of raised arms swaying to some violent, primal rhythm. “When I give the word, you guys hit the ground. I’m talking flat out.”

“What the hell are you going to do?” Shrader snarled, while Westmore’s men started moving in, their red eyes flickering like demonic bursts of light in the rain-drenched darkness.

“Just do it!” Riley shouted, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, focusing on what he wanted…creating the image in his mind with sharp, specific detail. “Now!” he suddenly roared, clenching his teeth as he opened his eyes and blasted out the mental command. The power surged through him, a sharp, piercing pain radiating through his head, and he bent forward, a warm spill of blood pouring from his nose, same as it had when he’d used the gift to keep Hope’s door closed during the fight. But this time it was stronger…the pain ripping through him like a knife as he lifted his gaze, watching the trees shake, almost as though a violent earthquake was vibrating up from the ground beneath them. A deep, guttural roar tore from his throat, the pressure in his head excruciating,
and then the trees exploded into movement, the gnarled, heavy branches slashing toward the ground and spearing through Westmore’s men. Bloodcurdling shouts of agony filled the air as the branches drove through their backs, piercing straight into their hearts, then bursting from their chests with bright, gruesome sprays of blood.

Riley held it for as long as he could, until the pressure became too great and he released his hold on the power, the branches instantly whipping back up into the air, taking the bodies of Westmore’s men with them. A great, crushing wave of relief swept through him, and his legs gave way, his knees hitting the muddy ground, sinking into the wet earth, his lungs working so hard it felt like they’d explode. He heard someone mutter, “Holy mother of God,” and Riley lowered his head, not wanting to see the horrific results of what he’d done.

“Are they all dead?” he gasped, working to draw in a deep breath.

“Most of them got staked and the rest are running,” Shrader told him, his deep voice cut with a note of awe, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “I gotta tell you, man, that was some pretty serious—”

“Are you okay?” Ian grunted, cutting the Watchman off, and Riley could tell by the tone of his brother’s voice that he was once again in his human shape.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just have a helluva headache.” Riley glanced up at the blue-eyed stranger, who was standing to his left, the man’s expression one of curi
osity and caution. “Thanks for the tip,” he muttered, pushing his wet hair back from his face.

The guy nodded, and Shrader approached him, a belligerent expression pulling the Watchman’s face into a hard scowl, his fangs and claws withdrawn back into his body for the time being. “My, what blue eyes you have, Grandma,” he sneered in a warped rendition of the classic line from
Little Red Riding Hood.
“You wanna tell us what you’re doing helping out the ones your kind is trying to kill?”

“I might be one of the unlucky few in my family to inherit the Casus’s baby blues, but I’m not a bad guy,” the stranger murmured. “At least, not yet.

“And if you’re smart, you’ll listen to me. From what I can tell, Westmore’s men were the first wave of tonight’s attack. The second wave should be coming along any second now.”

“Until then,” Riley gasped, pushing himself to his feet, “why don’t you go ahead and tell us who you are.”

“Better yet,
what
are you?” Ian demanded, while Riley made his way to one of the nearby trees, resting his back against the rough bark, his body still drained from the effort of using his power.

“My name’s Noah Winston, and I’m someone whose family bloodline is pulling me into the middle of the coming war, just like it’s done to the Buchanans.” A wry smile tipped at the corner of his mouth. “We’re just not intended to fight for the same side.”

Shrader gave a low, rough laugh. “Winston? I get it
now. You belong to one of the Casus bloodlines. I’ve heard the name before.” Looking toward Ian and Riley, he said, “The Winstons have been under Watchmen surveillance as long as the Buchanans. They’re one of the strongest Casus bloodlines known to exist. Descendants of human women who were raped by those Casus bastards, and somehow managed to survive.”

Catching Noah’s icy gaze, Riley said, “If your bloodline’s so powerful, why haven’t the Casus shades used you as hosts yet?”

“Rumor has it that they’re saving us for when the big names come across. Personally, I’d rather remain standing in my own skin, and so would the rest of my family. Like the Buchanans,” Noah explained, “we’ve had our own students of the paranormal. Family members who devoted their entire lives to discovering what they could about the return of the Casus. Along the way, they’ve uncovered pieces of the puzzle that I believe can help you. For instance, what do you know about Westmore and his men?”

“We know they’re not human,” Riley admitted. “But that’s about it.”

Noah nodded, saying, “We figured you weren’t aware of their species. To be honest, outside the Deschanel—or vampires, as they’re more commonly called—there are few who even know of their existence. But they’re called the Kraven, the unfortunate byproduct of a Casus and a vamp. Like the human females who bore children after Casus attacks, there were even
a greater number of vampires who gave birth after being raped by those monsters. The Deschanel clan looks on the Kraven as an embarrassment—an abomination—which is why their existence is such a closely guarded secret. One that few of the Consortium even know about. The Kraven can pass for humans, and it’s believed that while they have incredibly long life spans, sometimes living for hundreds of years, they also go through long periods of hibernation. They’re not as strong as a pure-blooded vamp, and their fangs only come out at night. For the most part, the Kraven live in the shadow of the Deschanel, treated little better than slaves.”

“That would explain how Westmore was able to give the Collective the location of the vampire nesting grounds,” Shrader muttered.

Noah nodded. “They’re considered somewhat unstable, but not stupid. For Westmore to betray the Deschanel, he must have a good source of protection in line.”

“Which might explain why he wants to bring back the Casus,” Ian murmured.

“Possibly,” Noah replied. “Though he’s an idiot if he thinks he can make a deal with the devil and survive. But to be honest, we don’t know a hell of a lot about his motivations or what he’s after. And, at this point, we don’t understand his obsession with the Markers any more than you guys do.”

Scrubbing his hands down his wet face, Shrader
muttered, “Christ, this thing is like a fucking onion. The deeper we peel it, the shittier the smell.” Glaring at Noah, he said, “And how is it that no one knows you’re here? Where’s your surveillance?”

Noah’s mouth curved in an arrogant smile. “I slipped them back in San Francisco.”

Shrader grunted in response, muttering something about the Watchmen unit assigned to the Winstons. Though Riley tried to focus on what the Watchman was saying, it was becoming harder to concentrate, his heart pounding…his body burning with heat, despite the frigid chill of the rain. He hadn’t experienced the full change yet, but it was coming.

Narrowing his gaze on Noah’s rugged face, he suddenly said, “If you’ve been hanging around town watching everyone, do you know where Gregory is?”

“He’s most likely with the female,” Noah murmured. “I imagine they’ll be coming along anytime now.”

“Female?” Ian grunted, his body going rigid with the same jolt of surprise that had just slammed through all three of them. “What female?”

Noah looked around at their shocked expressions, then slowly shook his head. “You didn’t think the Casus would all be males, did you?” he asked with a low laugh. “Immortality didn’t come until puberty, and from what I’ve heard, very few of the women made it that far. But there
are
females. Pretty vicious ones, too. Not the kind of bitches you want to go messing around with. Your redheaded friend must have some serious balls to
try to screw this one for information.” Frowning, he said, “How is it that he knows about her but you guys don’t?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Riley growled, his heart beating so hard it damn near burst its way out of his chest, as he straightened away from the tree.

“The little green-eyed bitch,” Noah grunted. “She’s one of them.”

“A Kraven?” he asked, while a cold, deadly fear began to creep through him, sickening and rank, making him feel ill.

“No, a
Casus,
” Noah told him, an uneasy look spilling over the man’s face.

“But she has
green
eyes,” Riley growled, fisting his hands at his sides. “And the Casus’s eyes are blue, damn it.”

Noah shook his head again. “
Not
the females’ eyes. Those are always green.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he gasped, reaching out with one hand to steady himself against the tree as his head began to swim.

“What?” Ian asked, the single word thick with frustration. “What’s going on?”

“Kellan,” he growled. “It’s all been some kind of setup!”

“What has?” Shrader grunted, sounding thoroughly confused.

“Kellan has been seeing some woman in town since we got here. Picked her up at some bar. Christ, he told
me he was going to call her and have her come to the motel to wait with him and Hope tonight. He was worried about her being alone during the storm.”

Shrader and Ian were both stunned into silence, their grim expressions mirroring their dread.

Taking an aggressive step toward Noah, Riley snarled, “Why didn’t you warn him?”

“I thought he knew!” Noah shot back. “That he was using her to try to get information. It never occurred to me that he didn’t know she was one of them!”

Shaking with fear, Riley pulled out his cell phone, but there was no service. Cursing under his breath, he took off running, thinking that if he could just reach the house before the second wave of the attack arrived, then he could grab Hope’s keys and use her car to get to town. He could feel his control slipping, the Merrick’s rage struggling to break free, but he did his best to beat it down. Whatever happened, he couldn’t lose it.

Not yet, damn it. Not yet.

Pushing his body as fast as it would go, he raced through the forest, knowing only that he had to do whatever he could to reach her…before it was too late.

S
TANDING AT THE
motel-room window, Kellan watched as the storm seemed to swell with rage, a series of jagged lightning strikes illuminating the drenched night in violent splashes of brilliance. He cast a quick look down at his watch again, wondering where Pasha was.
He’d called her on his way into town with Hope, and they’d agreed to meet at this motel, since it was closer to Millie’s than the one where she was staying. But now he wished he’d just gone ahead and picked her up. She should have been there by now, and the worry was only adding to his sharp, seething frustration. He didn’t mind protecting Hope—knew that Riley would never have let her go with him if he didn’t trust Kellan to keep her alive, which was a hell of an honor. But it still chafed that he was missing out on the battle.