Expiez: Redeem Your Blood Lust (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

The front door opened so violently the announcement bells, usually sweet and charming with their chime, clacked angrily against the glass. Kevin immediately rose from the couch in her office and went to investigate. Angel closed her laptop and listened tentatively. The studio was technically closed. But while she finished up paperwork for the evening she routinely kept the doors unlocked—in case one of her clients needed her.

"Are you in that big of hurry to meditate?" She heard Kevin ask.

"Humor's not your strength, copper. Where's Angel?"

"What's wrong?" she asked as she came around the corner.

"I have to change this. To change me." Darus looked completely exasperated. "I have to figure out how to be a better…human."

She smiled as gently as she could. "Well, you can start by letting go of your anger. Now. With your breath."

His loud sigh was the equivalent of a teenager rolling their eyes and saying, "whatever".

"I've tried…"

"Try harder. Try it now."

He seemed to make the attempt, but halfway through a ragged breath, he abruptly gave up, his entire posture slumping. "I can't fucking do this… I'm a dick. I'm always going to be a dick. I just don't have the strength to change."

"But you do. We all do." Taking his elbow, she led him to the couch and gently eased him into a seated position. "Think about what you want to achieve. Better yet, verbalize it." She looked him squarely in the eye. "Tell me what you want to achieve."

"I'm tired of being a selfish asshole."

"Fair enough. Take a deep breath," she instructed. "Take some time to focus." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. "So, how are you going to amend being selfish?" He grimaced. "Concentrate on your breathing… How
do
you become a better
human
?" His phrasing made her smile when she repeated it.

The lines between his brows were starting to soften. "You choose it."

"Of course. There are things we can control and there are things we can't. This is one aspect of your life you do control." His furrow lines softened even more. "And it starts with your breath. It's hard to be calm when you're denying your body oxygen." She drew in a loud lungful of air followed by an audible exhale. Darus followed her lead, matching her on the next inhale. "Again," she urged.

He obeyed, and with a few more breaths, his energy calmed.

"What is the first step toward achieving your goal?" she asked quietly.

"Accept what I can't control."

"And what does that mean exactly."

His eyes still closed, he frowned briefly before sighing. "If Julia Laroque hates me, so be it. If Clare doesn't want to be with me, I have to deal with it, without getting angry. I can't control them. I can only control me. I have to try to be the best man I can and let the rest fall into place." He opened his eyes. The gray orbs were the calmest she'd even seen on him and his small smile was genuine, not smug or cocky or sly. "Of course, that's all way easier said than done."

"That's why you have me."

His phone rang and he dug into his pocket to retrieve it, frowning when he glanced at the screen. "Excuse me," he said, rising from the couch and moving to stand by the door. "Hello?"

The color drained from his face as the person on the other end of his phone presumably answered.

Kevin joined her as she carefully watched him. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know." She glanced up at him. His expression calculating, he watched Darus—unmoving, phone pressed firmly to his ear—with sharp scrutiny. Always a detective, she found his never ending drive to analyze, sum up, solve any and every situation incredibly sexy.

"Who is he talking to?"

"I don't know that either."

Darus suddenly looked at them, his complexion pallor, and promptly turned away. He said something into the phone too quiet to be heard.

With rapid, jerky movements, he turned the phone off and slid it into his pocket. "Hey, I gotta go," he said, obviously trying to sound casual when his expression was anything but.

Kevin left her side and strode toward him, his posture radiating authority. "Anything you need help with?"

For a brief second, Darus looked like he might say yes, but just as quickly as the moment appeared it disappeared. "Naw. It's cool. Just some personal business."

Before either of them could respond, he yanked open the door and stepped outside.

Kevin turned to her and opened his mouth to speak when his phone also rang. "Sorry, babe," he said as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Detective McCoy."

His conversation was easier to decipher and it was apparent within a few seconds he had work to do.

"I gotta go too," he said, walking over and planting a quick kiss on her lips. "Apparently people can't stop killing each other in this town."

"Human nature at its finest."

"Sorry to bail on dinner."

"Your work is more important."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm done." And with that, he too was out the door.

She returned to her office, trying to keep worry from overtaking her brain. She wasn't worried about Kevin, for the most part he could handle whatever New Orleans' seedy side threw at him. Darus though...

Who the hell could have called him to make him look like he'd just seen a ghost?

* * * *

"What an unexpected treat," the creep who had his scrawny, but freakishly strong arms wrapped around her said. Well, he didn't
say
it so much as breathe it.

Clare squirmed in his grasp. "Let. Me. Go."

"I don't think so."

Fighting his iron grip wasn't doing a damn bit of good. She wished she'd taken a self-defense class. It was on her "to-do" list. Not much help at the moment.

"No need to struggle my darling. I'm not going to hurt you. In fact..." His fingers dug into her, making her wince in pain. Great. More bruises. "I want you to stop struggling. Now."

It was then that she saw the gun in his hand. And it hit her. This was Lohr Varius.

She froze. Until she had a plan, she wasn't going to test him. She was going to sit quietly and do exactly what he asked. Her recent experience with Chris had taught her pushing the limits was a bad idea. Especially with a crazy person. And from what she'd heard about Lohr, he was craaaaazy with a capital C.

"What do you want with me?"

"I'm not sure yet." Keeping one arm wrapped tightly around her, he dug the phone out of her purse. "First things first. Let's get your boyfriend here and we'll go from there."

* * * *

Kevin stared at the ceiling. The circle of red wasn't very big but there was no denying what it was. The man who'd called the police reported hearing a loud thud in the apartment upstairs—unusual he said, because he rarely heard noise up there. In fact, he'd never even seen his neighbor, and actually thought the unit was unoccupied. But didn't think anything of it until he saw the spot.

"And it's been getting bigger ever since."

"When did you first see it?"

"Maybe an hour ago." The man shrugged. "At first it was about the size of a dime, but now…" He glanced toward the ceiling. "I haven't heard any noises since the first 'thunk', maybe I made a mistake calling you. Maybe they just spilled some wine. "

Wine would spread faster than that, but that's why Kevin was there.

"No. You did the right thing." He pulled out a card and handed it to the man. "Call me if you think of anything else."

The apartment upstairs was dark and smelled strongly of Frankincense. Kevin wasn't surprised when he went to turn on a light and found the power off. Pulling out the miniature Maglight he kept attached to his gun holster, he twisted it on and scanned the room. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out any light that could possibly seep through the shuttered windows. Ornate, hardwood furniture dotted the room, more velvet, more heaviness. He knew immediately who this apartment belonged to. From the iron candle holders to the disturbing art on the walls… It was another home of Lohr Varius.

For a brief second he was disappointed they'd missed it. After all the digging they'd done on that crazy bastard, he still had an apartment in New Orleans the police knew nothing about. But then he felt a wave of twisted elation when he realized the blood seeping through the floor might just belong to Lohr.

Gun ready, he negotiated the hard wood floors as quietly as he could, painfully aware of every creak and groan. The apartment wasn't very big, and after verifying the bathroom, kitchen and living room were clear, he made his way to the single bedroom—the source of the blood according to the layout.

A huge, four-post, wrought iron bed filled the tiny room. Ropes dangled from each post. Dark, damp pools dotted the rumpled comforter and Kevin was immediately reminded of the bed Lohr had restrained Kate Miller in.

He quickly checked the closet, behind the door, and under the bed. A flash of blond hair caught his eye. Barely visible beyond the curtain of sheet dangling off the side of the bed and obscuring the view.

Unless Lohr had gone crazy with some scissors and bleach, the still body wedged between the far wall and bed wasn't him. Kevin holstered his gun and joined the victim.

It was Hail. Angel's MIA Donor. The man who had helped Lohr escape prison. Some reward.

Kneeling, he started to press his fingers against Hail's neck to check for a pulse, noticed the slit throat and went for a wrist instead. He wasn't much luckier there. Blood, punctures, and cuts dotted the insides of Hail's arms, but he was able to decipher what he needed.

Hail was definitely dead. And just. His body still warm and flaccid, the blood seeping into the apartment downstairs came from his neck wound and formed a sticky halo around his head. Judging from the way the sheets were twisted around his arm and the trail of blood leading back to the bed, Kevin surmised his throat was slit while he was still on the bed. Perhaps the killer left at that point and Hail struggled to get off the bed, lost his battle, and fell. It would explain the thud and the following ceiling stain.

Poor bastard. It looked like once he was no longer needed, Lohr just…got rid of him. And judging from the number of marks on Hail's skin, it was after he'd been used extensively as a blood source.

What Kevin couldn't fathom was why Lohr had even stuck around New Orleans? Why linger when the heat was on?

He immediately thought of Kate. Lohr had unfinished business with her—transforming her into his Queen and all.

He pulled out his phone, ready to call Slade and warn him when his mind flashed back to the first conversation he'd had with Lohr at the hospital. He replayed his memory of it, visualizing Lohr's bruised face when he'd asked about Kate. The man had seemed so…dismissive. He'd been more upset about Darus.

He glanced at the phone in his hand. Right before he'd received the call about Hail, Darus had received a call too. One that obviously disturbed him.

"Fuck," Kevin muttered to himself, jumping to his feet. Lohr wasn't after Kate. He was after Darus.

Chapter Thirteen

"I have something you want."

The memory of Lohr's breathy voice haunted Darus' thoughts from the moment he heard them in Angel's studio until the moment he approached his house. He hadn't recognized the number when his cell phone rang, but the instant Lohr said he had something Darus wanted, he knew exactly whose number it was.

His stomach immediately tried to crawl into his shoes. And then, the got closer to his house, it tried to crawl from the depths of his bowels to the base of his throat, taking out his lungs and heart in the process.

He'd started out with a brisk walk but quickly realized that turtle pace wasn't going to cut it and broke into a dead run. By the time he yanked open the gate leading to his courtyard, sweat had soaked through his shirt and dripped from his chin.

The visual greeting him when he rounded the corner turned his overheated skin to ice. Lounging on the outdoor sofa, Lohr had Clare wrapped tightly in one arm, a gun gripped casually in his hand.

She looked scared and pissed at the same time. Her blue eyes wide, her body rigid, her mouth pressed into a thin, angry line—it turned Darus' stomach, so recently trying to escape, into a quivering ball of nausea.

He should have brought the cop with him, but Lohr had been explicit.
"Come alone, or Satin gets a playmate."

"How nice of you to join us," Lohr said.

"Let her go. You don't want her, you want me."

"I don't know." Lohr ran the long, thin fingers of his free hand down the side of Clare's neck. She flinched and jerked against his grasp. "Maybe I want you both."

Darus stepped forward, ready to ambush Lohr, tackle him, something...anything to get Clare away from Lohr's lanky paws.

He suddenly understood Armand's need to kick his ass last year when he'd fucked with Julia at The Cell. If that big, tattooed bastard had felt an ounce what Darus felt now, he definitely deserved every minute of his ass whooping.

The gun held loosely in Lohr's hand jerked up, the barrel pointing threateningly at Clare's smooth, pale neck. Darus stopped short in his tracks.

"That's better."

"Just tell me what you want."

"I originally just wanted to blow your brains out, but after this delicious little morsel unexpectedly showed up I changed my mind. I want what you took from me."

"What are you talking about?" But suddenly Darus knew. Someone hit the panic button in his brain. "Please. Fuck, just take me. I won't fight. I'll do whatever you want."

"I know you will." The tip of the gun didn't budge. "And I'll still kill you. But I want more now. I want my Queen. Since you took her from me, I think I'll have yours." He leaned in and ran his nose up the side of Clare's neck, presumably sniffing her. Darus felt his hands curl into fists and the muscles in his shoulders bunch into knots. "She may not be my statuesque beauty but at least she smells good."

His face became so hot it felt like it would combust any minute. He'd never felt such fury. The heat in his body, the tension in every muscle, the undeniable need to act—all foreign sensations.

Knowing adrenaline and his need to protect Clare would give him the strength and speed he needed, he lunged for Lohr, reaching the man in a single bound. Just as he twisted the gun from Lohr's grasp and before the man could react, a shot sounded behind him. Blood exploded from Lohr's forehead and Clare screamed. 

Darus didn't hesitate or bother looking to see who had fired the gun. Shoving Lohr's limp body aside, he grabbed Clare's arm and pulled her to him. Her entire body trembled as she buried her face in his chest.

It wasn't until she was safely in his embrace that he turned to see who'd shot Lohr. Gun already holstered, phone pressed to his ear, stood Kevin McCoy, casually giving instructions to what sounded like a police dispatcher. Darus tossed a head nod his direction. He reciprocated the gesture before moving to Lohr's limp body and taking his pulse.

Sirens sounded in the distance, quickly getting louder. "Hey," Darus said, bending his head to speak quietly in Clare's ear. "Want to go inside?" He was anxious to get her away from this scene, knowing watching the EMTs haul off Lohr's corpse and cops crawling all over the place was probably the last thing she needed.

Fuck. Lohr. Dead. It was crazy.

Without lifting her head, she nodded into his chest. He kept his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as he unlocked the back door and led her inside.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked as he eased her into a dining room chair.

"Only if it has alcohol in it."

"That can be arranged."

"Good. Make mine a double."

He went to the liquor cabinet and returned with double shots of rum in two glass tumblers. She glanced at him in thanks when he handed her a glass. Her eyes stopped on his shirt and then widened.

"Oh my God!" He looked down at his shirt and saw the blood—Lohr's blood. Splattered on her face when Kevin's bullet pierced his brain and then subsequently rubbed on his shirt. Before he could stop her, she touched her face and then pulled her hand back and stared at her red-tipped fingers. "Oh my God!"

"Here." He tossed his glass on the table, brown liquid splashing onto the black wood, ran to the sink, dampened a rag, and ran back to her, yanking out the chair closest to her and sliding into it. Taking her hand, he wiped the blood from her fingertips. "Let's just get rid of this."

She stared at him in horror. "It's all over my face isn't it?"

With tender hands, he wiped her skin clean. "Not anymore." He smiled. "In fact..." Peeling off his shirt, he tossed it and the rag into the living room. "There. Gone."

She gave a half-hearted laugh and picked up her glass. "Now I see your plan. You just wanted an excuse to get naked with me again."

He met her glass with his. "You got me."

They both took a healthy drink and returned the empty glasses to the table at the same time.

"God," Clare said, her face twisted in a grimace. "I needed that."

"You're telling me." He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his thumb, and then paused. "I'm so sorry for what happened. I had no idea—"

"How could you have known?" she interrupted.

"He was waiting for me. If you hadn't come by…"

"It wasn't like you knew either of those things were going to happen."

"No, but if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have touched you. If I hadn't—"

"What?" she interrupted again. "If you hadn't what? Interfered with his plot to kidnap Kate? What were you supposed to do, just look the other way?"

At one time, that's exactly what he would have done.

Fuck, was that shame he felt? What the hell was wrong with him?

Clare was shaking her head. "That would have been worse," she said. "I'm fine. Look. Not a scratch."

He took her hands and then her gaze. "Are you? Truly…?"

"I'm just a little shaken. I'll be okay. He didn't hurt me. Freaked me the fuck out, but I'm otherwise unscathed." She glanced toward the French doors leading to the patio. "The cops are here."

He didn't turn. "Don't worry about them. I'm sure McCoy's got it covered."

"Won't they want to ask me questions?"

"Not if you aren't ready to answer them."

She looked at him. "Don't you want to ask me one?"

He tried to smile, but ended up just making a face. He couldn't ask the question if the answer might not be what he wanted to hear.

"Well, I'll answer anyway. I came here because—"

"No wait. Before you say anything, please, let me start by apologizing. I had no right to get jealous, or have any expectations, or…well, any of it." He paused, bowing his head while he tried to put his thoughts into a cohesive order. "Look. I want to be with you. I really do, but I will wait. And whatever you need…I understand. I do. And when you're ready…"

Wearing a smile, she put a hand on his arm. He couldn't interpret the gesture. Was she mocking or was that understanding?

"Easy cowboy," she said. "Let me talk now. I—"

The French doors flung open and a flushed Julia stood in the doorway. "Oh!" She rushed over to Clare, giving Darus a sidelong glance as she stooped next to her sister. He held his hands up in surrender, rising from his chair and stepping back. "Kevin called me," Julia said, taking Clare's hands. "I can't believe that monster had you. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Really. Just shaken. Darus—"

"God, we need to get you out of here." Julia rose. "Let's go." She tugged on Clare's arm, but she didn't budge.

"I'm fine where I am."

Julia's face contorted in confusion. "But Lohr…"

"Darus tried to trade places with me," Clare glanced at him, and her expression was nothing less than adoring. The gesture made him step back in surprise. "If Detective McCoy hadn't come along, I'm sure he would have taken more than a punch for me."

"Definitely."

Julia glared at him.

He needed to fix this. Once and for all. And more importantly, he needed to accept his part in her hatred.

"Julia, look, I'm sorry…"

"Aren't you going to put a shirt on?"

"Why? You like what you—" He stopped. Replying with a smart-ass remark wasn't going to help anything. "No, I'm not," he finished instead. "I am going to apologize. Last year, I made it my mission to fuck with you, to freak you out. It was wrong and I'm sorry."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're just saying that to try and get on my good side. To get with my sister."

"No. Yes. Maybe. Regardless, I mean it. I am sorry. I'm a prick, I realize that, but I am trying to be less of a prick."

"I kinda like your prick…"

"Clare!"

She grinned. "I mean his attitude, of course. Characters remember?"

Julia rubbed her forehead. "It's going to happen isn't it? There's nothing I can do?"

Clare put a hand on her shoulder. This time, Darus knew for sure the gesture was mocking. "No," she said.

"Julia, you might as well start calling me
brother
now." He couldn't help himself. He didn't even try. "
Bro
will work too. I'm not picky."

She lifted her head to glare at him. He just grinned. "You don't like me," he said. "But you'd be surprised to find I'm kinda fond of you."

She rolled her eyes. "Great."

"No, really." He was tempted to put his arm around her shoulder but knew that would be pushing the limits, to say the least. "I—"

The door opened again. Armand stepped through it this time.

"It's like a goddamned family reunion," Darus muttered. "Don't you people knock?" he said louder.

"Not when family's involved." Armand paused by Julia. Clare was now surrounded by the
enemy
. "Are you all right?"

"I will be…"

The door opened yet again and Kevin McCoy filled the rapidly shrinking floor space. Darus sat wearily in an empty chair. This was obviously going to take a while. It could be hours before he was alone with Clare again. He needed to hear what she had to say. Was he forgiven or not?

"I made a statement with the patrolling officer," McCoy said. "So don't worry, I won't need either of your statements until later." He glanced at Clare and Darus in turn. "Quick thinking out there," he said to Darus. "I realize you didn't know I was behind you, but you gave me a clear shot."

"What quick thinking?" He heard Julia ask. He peered around Armand's bulky frame at her. She frowned when she met his gaze.

"Lohr had me at gun-point," Clare told her. "Darus knocked his hand away and then the detective here," she jutted her chin toward McCoy, "shot him. It was all wonderfully gruesome. I'm just thankful Darus wiped the blood off my face before you got here."

"Oh my God!"

Darus grinned. Whatever shock Clare had been in after being held by Lohr was being squashed by her wicked sense of humor. If he had an ounce of denial regarding his feelings for her, it was gone.

He felt a hand on his knee and glanced at Clare, pushing his eyebrows together in question. She bit her lip and smiled.

Armand cleared his throat. "Well, I'm glad you aren't injured." He turned to Julia. "We should probably get out of here."

"What?" The shock on Julia's face quickly turned to defeat. "Oh." She wrapped her arms around Clare. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Nothing a little Xanax won't fix."

"Are you coming home?"

"Maybe." She looked at Darus and he couldn't help grinning. "I'll text you."

After a few more hugs and some tear wiping, Julia and Armand left. Darus wasn't 100% sure, but he thought he saw a nod of approval from the pretentious prick as he passed. As cold as hell was getting, it wouldn't surprise him if he woke up to snow tomorrow.

"Well, I'd better be going too," McCoy said. "I've got to break some bad news to Angel. It's not going to be pleasant."