Sixx (The Stone Society, #7) (28 page)

“Maybe Cynthia can call a news conference and ask if anyone has seen him,” Desirae suggested to Tyson.

“I’ll call her and get her on it. Do you want us to come to you? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“That’s sweet, Ty, but I’m not alone. Michael’s here with me.”

“What did the police say? Don’t they need for someone to be missing twenty-four hours before they’ll get involved?”

Desirae hadn’t thought about that. They hadn’t called the police. Michael and his Clan were handling everything themselves. “Tell him we were waiting until we knew for sure, but the local authorities have been notified,” Michael whispered.

Desirae relayed the message, and after a few more instructions, she hung up. “I forgot all about the police. Are you going to get them involved? I mean, once this hits the news, they’re going to know. Won’t they ask questions?”

“I’ve already called Sinclair. He’s getting in touch with whichever Gargoyles are on the force in and around Three Rivers. Also, Julian called. He has the identity of the delivery driver, thanks to your sketch. He suggested you either get a job with the police department or you start selling your art. He is impressed with your attention to detail.”

“That’s nice, but if you know who the man is, why are we still standing here?” Something was up. They should have been out the door as soon as Michael had a name.

“I’m waiting on Urijah.” Still not the right answer.

“For?” Desirae didn’t think she was going to like his response.

“If this man is associated with Alistair, he’s dangerous. I’m not going to subject you to being around someone like him any more than you already have been. Uri is going to stay here with you while I go question him.

Nope. She didn’t like his response. Not one bit. 

D
esi couldn’t move. Couldn’t see. He opened his eyes. At least he
thought
he opened them. Nothingness.  A sense of dread inched its way from deep within his soul outward. So this was what being dead felt like. Nothing. Just an empty void. No sight. No sound. No... anything. So much for heaven and hell. Then again, this could be hell. Especially the no sound part. For someone who lived their life surrounded by loud music daily, the eerie quiet was definitely hell. How long before he went mad?

Regrets wormed their way into his consciousness. He had just met his father, and now he wouldn’t have the chance to really get to know Michael. He had found out about Simone, but she was off in New York, probably dating some other artsy type. The band could find another lead singer, but would they? He hoped they would go on making music, sharing their talent with the world.
Pretty Momma...
His beautiful mother was his biggest regret. She was his reason for doing everything. The reason he was the man he’d grown to be. He gained his strength through hers. Desi also gathered strength through her weakness. He’d learned to be the man of the house early, and he owed her everything. He didn’t regret one day of his past. He regretted all the days of the future he wouldn’t get to see.

Desi let the darkness take over. He calmed his mind and thought about... nothing.

S
imone bobbed her head up and down to the beat of the latest Cyanide Sweetness song as she threaded the needle on her sewing machine. Her mother would say she was cheating by sewing her latest creation with a machine instead of by hand, but she only had so much time to get the quilt made before Josie’s birthday. Speaking of her obnoxious roommate, the door flew open and Josie’s mouth was going ninety miles an hour, even though she knew Simone couldn’t hear her. If her arms hadn’t been flailing in protest, Simone would have ignored her. Whatever her bestie was saying was important enough for her to invade Simone’s privacy. Simone slid her headphones from her ears, wrapping them around her neck.

“Sims! Your boyfriend’s on TV,” Josie exclaimed like Simone would know what she was talking about.

“Come again?”

“Desmond Rothchild. He’s on TV. You’ve got to come see this!” Josie exclaimed.

“First of all, he is
not
my boyfriend. Second, why would I want to interrupt my project to look at someone who’s so far out of my reach he isn’t even in the same stratosphere? He doesn’t even know I exist.”

“He’s missing, Sims! They think some crazy fan kidnapped him!” Josie took off to the front of their apartment where the only television was. Simone couldn’t tell if Josie was punking her or not, so she followed her friend to the living area. Sure enough, Desmond’s gorgeous face, sans vampire makeup, was on the screen. Even though he was allegedly abducted in California, this was big news. So big, the local New York stations had cut into their regularly scheduled programming.

Simone plopped down on the ottoman as she listened to the news reporter. Desmond Rothchild was a pompous ass, thinking he knew better than she did about costume design. She was an award-winning stylist, something that was unheard of for someone so young. Simone knew her stuff. Not only was he pompous, but he made her nervous. Why wouldn’t he? Desmond was only the lead singer for one of the world’s fastest growing rock bands. Normally, she didn’t like hard rock, but his voice called to her on a cellular level. Even though the songs Cyanide Sweetness played were hard core, Desmond somehow sang her to sleep every night. He was a drug, and she was a junkie of the worst kind. And now, her drug was missing.

“Sims, you okay?” Josie asked when the news report was over.

“Yeah, it’s just shocking. I can’t believe someone we’ve met has been abducted.” She tried to play it off, but if anyone could smell bullshit, it was Josie.

“Right. Someone we’ve met. You just keep on telling yourself he means nothing to you, sweetie. Maybe one day you’ll believe it. Since you’re not bothered by the fact Desmond’s been kidnapped, how about a night on the town? Maybe a little wine and dancing at Rockford’s?”

Simone scowled. “You know I’m working on something for my mother. Besides, it’s too flipping cold to go out. Remind me why we moved here away from the sunshine?”

“To live our dreams! You’re going places, Sims. Pretty soon, you’ll be getting calls from major movie studios.” Josie pirouetted and bowed as she always did whenever they spoke of making it big. So far, Simone was the only one of the two to come close to her dream job. Josie was still auditioning every week, and every week she was getting turned down. She was talented, but she obviously didn’t have that something the talent agents were looking for.

“And you’re going to get your big break, too. But seriously, I have to stay in and sew.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll veg on the sofa while you toil away in your dungeon.” Josie sat down in the overstuffed chair, pulling her legs underneath her. She began flipping channels, dismissing Simone to her project.

When she got to her bedroom, Simone shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes. “Please, whoever’s up there listening, please keep Desmond safe.” Simone wasn’t religious and never prayed for herself. But this was different – this was Desmond – and the world wasn’t ready to lose him yet.

Simone sat back down at her sewing machine and picked up one of the pink squares of fabric. Josie might not be a famous ballerina, but she shone as brightly as one. The quilt Simone was making was one of a kind, scattered with pinks and silvers throughout the design. It was a pain in the ass, but it would be worth it to see the smile on her best friend’s face when she opened it on her birthday. Simone glanced at the pattern to make sure she had the correct piece. Seeing that she did, she placed it next to the silver piece and sewed them together.

Concentrating was impossible. Simone couldn’t stop thinking about Desmond. They had met when the company she worked for was contracted to do a new set and costume design for the band. Instead of getting to work with Desmond, she’d been assigned to the drummer. Brett Thomas was a good-looking man, but he didn’t have anything on Desmond. When one of the other girls called in sick, Simone was tasked with fitting Desmond with fangs. She approached him professionally, but when he refused to even think about the prosthetics she was offering, she got offended. She didn’t tell him how to sing a song. He wasn’t about to tell her what stage makeup was the best.

Desmond had shown her his own fangs, and damn if they didn’t look authentic. Better than the ones she’d brought. Still, he didn’t have to be a dick about it. The ass even hissed at her. She stomped off like a scolded child, but she kept to the shadows and watched his every move after that. Something about him stirred feelings deep within her. Made her want to plan a wedding and have his babies. And that right there was why she had to stay away from the man. She was too young to be thinking such ridiculous thoughts. Babies with Desmond Rothchild? They would be beautiful, that was for sure.

“F
uck!” Uri yelled as he hung up the phone.

“Problems?” Banyan asked, directly behind him.

Yes. You, you insufferable bastard.
“Desi has been abducted. Sixx needs me to come watch over Desirae so he can question the man who delivered flowers to her home. It seems the vase was bugged.”

“Would you like for me to go with you?” Banyan asked quietly, the concern evident in his eyes.

What Uri would like and what was necessary were two completely different concepts. “Thank you for the offer, but no. I need you to continue setting up the equipment and make sure it works properly. As soon as this latest crisis is over, I’ll need to focus my attention on the armory and getting everyone on the West Coast equipped.”

“Do you really think there will be a war? Is the Greek so deep into his hatred he would risk humans finding out about us? Humans other than the mates?”

“Yes, I do. It’s why getting this armory up and running is so important. Now, if you’ll take care of things here, I’ll be on my way.” Uri had to get away from this Goyle. Something, other than their past history, rubbed him the wrong way. Every time he was around Banyan, he felt the urge to hit the male. Or fuck him.

“You can count on me, Urijah. Travel safe, and call me if you need me. For anything.” Banyan turned and walked away, leaving Uri to ponder the meaning behind his words. He couldn’t afford to waste any time. Sixx and Desirae needed him. He would worry about Banyan later.

S
ixx’s shifter was clawing at him to go find Desi. To find the delivery driver and beat the information out of him. To take Rae to her bedroom and fuck her into the next day. None of this would happen until Urijah arrived. Sixx would get the information out of the driver, one way or another. He would find their son, one way or another. Fucking his mate? It would be an excellent distraction, but he doubted Rae would be up for it until they had Desi back home. As mad as she was now, it might not happen then.

“Why do you feel I need a babysitter?” Rae was pacing the small living room, and it was driving Sixx crazy. “I could go with you. Plead to the man as a mother. I could...” Sixx grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. He sat down on the sofa with her on his lap. “Michael!”

“Rae.” He didn’t want to continue having this conversation. It would only piss her off more, so he did the one thing that would keep her from talking – he kissed her. She resisted, mumbling against his mouth, but Sixx pressed on. Literally. He prodded at her lips with his tongue, and she finally relented and opened for him. He loved kissing his mate. Their tongues twirled together, sensuously. Forgetting she was mad at him, Rae pushed her sundress up her thighs so she could straddle his lap. She resumed their kiss and curled her fingers into his hair. Her nails scraped against his scalp, the tingles shooting down to his cock.