The Darkest Kiss (27 page)

Just be careful, Riley.

Now you’re starting to sound like Jack.

His warm laughter ran through my mind. My lips curved into a smile, but it quickly faded as Young came into view. His thin face contorted with rage and lank hair slapped at his back and shoulders. His hand struck his thigh in time with his movements, and with every blow the scent of blood became stronger. I frowned, concentrating my gaze on his hand and seeing for the first time the sheer length of his fingernails. They had to be a good inch long and were razor sharp. Every time he slapped himself they were tearing through the fabric of his stained jeans and into his flesh.

He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

The image of Ivan’s back rose—the torn and bloodied strips of flesh that hadn’t appeared cut by a knife or a whip. Was that how Young was killed? I hadn’t thought to ask Vinny that question.

“You have no idea what these people did to me.”

Young’s voice was high and uneven. He continued to pace the length of the clearing as he spoke, slapping away at his thigh. The scent of blood continued to grow, and so did the mad spark in his eyes. Working himself up to the task almost at hand, I realized suddenly.

“And you have no idea how they wrecked my life.”

“No one can understand what you’ve been through,” Liander said, his voice very calm and very even despite the pain he had to be in. “And you have every right to be angry.”

He was trying to empathize with Young and diffuse the situation. Worth a try, I guess, but Young wasn’t your everyday madman. He’d had more than twenty years to fantasize about his revenge, and I very much doubted that a calm, sympathetic tone would help.

“Those bastards left me for dead. They sliced me open and left me for
dead
.” Blood splattered wetly now when he slapped his thigh, and his teeth had begun to protrude from his lips. “But I didn’t die. I found a way to live, and I
will
have my revenge. On everyone.”

“If you didn’t die, then you weren’t meant to. Fate obviously had other plans for you.”

As Liander spoke, his gaze went from Young to the trees surrounding the clearing, and I knew then he was aware that we were here. God, I hoped Young didn’t come to the same realization.

I glanced at my watch. Still thirty seconds to go.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and tried to stifle the growing sense of anxiety.

“But not everyone here was responsible for your death, Aron,” Liander continued, still in that soft, calm tone. “Not everyone deserves to die.”

Young swung around and stalked to Liander, his face inches away and spittle flying as he said, “No one
here
lifted a finger to help.”

“It’s hard to help when you don’t know anything is—”

“
Everyone
knew what that gang was doing,” Young said, cutting Liander off, “and no one did
anything
. For that alone, you deserve to die.
All
of you.”

And with that, he raised his bloody claws and slashed at Liander’s stomach.

I thrust to my feet and ran into the clearing. But I was slower, far slower, than my brother. Liander’s skin had barely begun to split and bleed when suddenly Rhoan was there, a howl on his lips and murder in his eyes.

He hit Young full force and the two of them went flying, hitting the ground yards away and tumbling into a tree. I swerved around them and kept running toward Liander. His stomach was still opening and there was blood and bits and God knows what else beginning to spill from inside him.

“Why does the cavalry always arrive too late?” he said, the amusement in his cracked voice not hiding the pain suddenly evident in his expression and his eyes. I threw the stakes down and grabbed him around the hips, trying to take the weight off his arms with one arm, while I thrust my free hand against his bloody stomach. Only my grip slipped in all the blood, and suddenly my fingers were
inside
him.

Bile rose, but I swallowed hard and jerked my hand free, ignoring the metallic reek of blood and the stench of fear—fear that was mine as much as his—and grabbed as much of his innards as I could to stop them falling out any farther.

“Quinn,” I screamed, not even taking the time to open the link between us. “I need a knife and some help here.”

From behind me came a scream. A thick, high-pitched scream that didn’t even sound like it had come from a human throat. Rhoan’s, not Young’s.

He knew Liander was dying.

They were soul mates, and he could feel it.

No, no,
no
.

The fighting behind me increased. I wanted to look, wanted to know that my brother was okay, but I didn’t dare. I needed to look after his lover first, because without Liander, I’d have no brother.

“I’m not dying,” Liander whispered, his skin so pale and his body shaking. “I won’t die on you, Rhoan. I promise.”

He couldn’t keep that promise. Not if we didn’t get help soon.

God, where were the fucking medics?

Where the hell was Quinn?

I’d barely even thought that, and he was there.

“Hold him,” he said, and something silver flashed up high. Liander was suddenly a deadweight in my arms, and I grunted softly, holding him against me, my body trembling with the effort of not letting him drop.

Quinn freed the other man and lowered him to the ground, then stepped over him and came back to me.

“Okay, I’ve got him,” he said, and suddenly Liander’s weight eased away from me.

“Careful,” I said, panic in my voice. “There’s bits of his insides leaking from the wound.”

“Small intestines, probably.” He wasn’t looking at me, but rather Liander, gently feeling his upper abdominal area. “Is that tender?”

Liander shook his head. Quinn grunted. “Hopefully, no liver or spleen damage, then.” He glanced at me. “I saw a first-aid kit in the car. Run and grab it.”

I couldn’t figure out how the hell a first-aid kit was going to help, but I didn’t argue. I simply got up and ran. Rhoan was fighting like a madman, and the real madman was getting beaten to a bloody pulp.

Rhoan had no intention of killing him fast. No intention of using the stakes lying nearby on the ground just yet. Young was going to
pay
.

I couldn’t feel chilled by that. I really couldn’t.

I reached the car, flung open the door, and saw the kit on the backseat. As I grabbed it, I heard the sirens and hope ran through me.

They’d get here in time to save him.

They would.

I had to believe that. For Rhoan’s sake, and for mine.

I ran back to the clearing as fast as I could and dropped down beside Quinn. Liander’s skin was pale and clammy looking, and his breathing seemed rapid.

“Shock,” Quinn said. “Has the kit got sterile bandages?”

My fingers were shaking so hard it took several attempts to open the kit. “Yes,” I said, looking at him.

“Open it and give one to me.”

I did, adding, “It’s moist.”

“Perfect.” He covered the leaking intestines with it. “Is there a large abdominal or universal dressing in there?”

“There’s a thick bandage.”

“That’ll do.”

A scream hit the air, a thick sound of pain that went on and on, and vaguely sounded like words.
My eyes, my eyes…

Rhoan, still bent on revenge. I closed my eyes and said, “Rhoan, end it. Liander needs you here.” I looked up at Quinn. “There’s an ambulance on its way.”

“Then get up there, and get them down here fast.” His voice was grim. “We need to get him to a hospital.”

I got up and turned around. Saw Rhoan grab Young by the neck and snap it sideways. There was a crack and Young went limp. Not a killing blow, because broken necks didn’t kill vampires outright, but it was certainly disabling.

I closed my eyes. “Finish it, Rhoan.”

He looked at me briefly, his bloodied face free of emotion, his gaze still that of a killer. Then he turned, grabbed a stake, and plunged it into Young’s heart. Young screamed, but the sound was abruptly cut off as blue fire erupted from the wound, spreading rapidly across Young’s body, consuming and destroying.

Rhoan watched dispassionately for a moment, then turned away. His gaze went past me and his face crumbled, and suddenly he was sobbing and running toward Liander.

I resisted the instinct to grab him, comfort him, and ran to find the only hope Liander had.

Chapter 11

T
wenty-four hours later, I was sitting in a waiting room in a Melbourne hospital, holding my brother’s hand and hoping for the best.

Liander had lost a lot of blood and was now in emergency surgery to fix cuts to both his bowel and small intestines. He might be a werewolf, but there were some wounds that even a werewolf needed help to heal.

Rhoan hadn’t said a word since we’d arrived. Other than acknowledging Liander’s parents as they’d come in, he simply held my hand and stared at the wall, a blank expression on his face.

Not allowing himself to think.

Not allowing himself to feel.

In some ways, the very lack of emotion scared me, simply because I knew it was all there, bottled up, ready to explode should the worst happen. And I wasn’t entirely sure the four of us would be able to contain his wrath and grief if Liander did slip away.

I hoped Ben was right. Hoped that he
wasn’t
an exception to the rule, and that losing a soul mate didn’t necessarily mean death. I didn’t want to lose my brother—and especially not like this.

I swallowed the bitter taste of fear and pushed the negative thoughts away. Liander would live. He’d promised, and he wasn’t a man to make such promises lightly.

Quinn came back into the waiting room, a tray of coffees in his hands. He placed it down on the small table in front of us, then offered one to Liander’s parents. Yann, a heavier-set version of Liander himself, shook his head, but Raina—another silver wolf—accepted a cup gratefully, a small smile of thanks breaking the worry etched into her lined features.

Quinn held a cup out to me and I took it gratefully, sipping at the hot liquid and wincing a little at its bitter taste. Hospital coffee was on par with the muck we got at work.

“Rhoan?” Quinn said, offering him one of the remaining plastic mugs.

“No, thanks.”

“Rhoan—” I said, but he cut in sharply.

“No!”

His voice cracked with a mix of worry and barely repressed fury—everything that wasn’t showing on his face. I squeezed his hand. I could only imagine what he was going through, and as frustrating as his reactions were at the moment, they were also totally understandable. Hell, there was no way known I would have been as calm as he currently was if it had been
my
soul mate out there in the operating room.

Quinn sat back down beside me, pressing his warmth against my side and helping to battle the chill threatening to overwhelm me. He, like me, smelled of old blood, but my scent was also mixed with the aroma of fear and dried sweat, and it was decidedly unpleasant. As was my dress, which had become stiff and uncomfortable with all the dried blood on it. I plucked at the material lightly with my fingers. It was yet another dress that would end up in the trash. This job was playing havoc with my wardrobe. And my life.

God, please, let Liander be okay.

I took another sip of coffee, then leaned against Quinn a little more, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, simply wrapped his arm around my shoulder and hugged me.

It was good that he was here, and not just because his mere presence had an oddly soothing effect. Quinn was convinced Liander would pull through, and that conviction rolled off him like a blanket, smothering the flames of panic that might otherwise be present.

But I was also glad that he was there for me. Glad I had someone that I could lean against when I needed to. There hadn’t been a whole lot of people I could say that about in my life, and the fact that I was feeling it now, with Quinn, made me realize that no matter what the difficulties were between us, we had to give this a fair go.

I might be an independent, stupid bitch at times—okay, most of the time—but even I needed someone to turn to occasionally. Someone who wasn’t my brother or his lover.

My phone rang into the silence. I took a breath and blew it out slowly. I knew without looking that it would be Jack.

“I need you on the job,” he said when I answered.

“Jack, we’re still at the hospital—”

“And we’ve still got a killer running around loose,” he cut in. “I’m sorry, Riley. I know you want to be with Rhoan, but I need one of you here. Kade’s good, but he hasn’t got a wolf’s tracking skills.”

“What about Iktar?”

The spirit lizard had come through training the same time as Kade, but had been floating between day shift and night. He apparently had a few qualms about working with vampires—and the night shift was all vampires—but at the same time, day shift had proven something of a hassle for him. Humans might be used to the presence of shifters and vampires, but the sight of a spirit lizard, with their featureless faces and tendency to run around naked, had caused more than a few shocked reactions. Besides, Iktar’s skills were most useful in the in-between times of dawn and dusk. If there was a hint of a shadow around, a spirit lizard could simply disappear—and more completely than a vampire could shadow at such times. Which was a very useful skill to have when you were tracking down psychos.

“I had him rounding up the remaining Trollops last night,” Jack said.

“So they’re all safe?”

“There’s a Jenny Franklin and a Joan Hawkins who are currently unaccounted for, but there’s no sign of violence at either of their homes. Relatives have been un-helpful.”

Not so great. I hesitated. Stopping the bakeneko was a priority, I knew that. But so was my brother. So was stopping him if anything went wrong. “Jack—”

“It’s not a request, Riley. It’s an order. Don’t make me come and get you.”

I blew out a breath. I knew when I was defeated—and I definitely
didn’t
want a scene at the hospital. Not when my brother was so fragile, mentally.

“I have to go home and change before I can do anything.”

“Do it, then meet Kade in Toorak Road.”

He gave me the full address, and I frowned. “Isn’t that a parking lot?”

“Yeah. Another naked male has turned up, this one found on his car on the top level.”

On?
That
didn’t sound good. “I gather he’s in the same state as the others?”

“Worse.”

I wanted to ask what could possibly be worse than what we’d already seen, but I had a bad feeling I’d know the answer soon enough. Besides, I
had
seen worse. Many times. It seemed bad men and women didn’t have a whole lot of respect for the human—and nonhuman—condition. “Crap.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I talked to some of the other women last night. All the murdered men were Cherry Barnes’s former partners. And all the murdered women were the next lovers of those men.”

Which is basically what I’d guessed after talking to Dia. “So, unable to reach her mistress’s actual killer, the bakeneko is exacting revenge for what she sees as betrayals of her mistress’s trust. And she’s killing the women first so she can take their form and then kill the men?”

“It would appear so.”

And if it hadn’t been for the bakeneko’s catlike sense of self-superiority, we might never have realized who was behind all the murders. “Did the cuts on Cherry’s body match those found on Ivan and Denny?”

“Yes. She appears to have been Young’s first victim.”

“Meaning it was Young who set the bakeneko off in the first place?”

“Yes,” Jack said grimly. “Keep your com-link open, Riley. I want to know where you are at all times.”

“Will do.” I hung up and looked at Rhoan. “I have to go.”

He didn’t even look at me. “I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t believe it. Not one little bit.

Quinn squeezed my shoulder lightly, then removed his arm. My world seemed colder without it. Just for an instant I wondered if he was using his vampire wiles again, then wanted to smack myself mentally. Besides the fact that my shields had grown substantially since he’d last tried that, I honestly didn’t think he’d do such a thing when we were still sorting out what was going to happen between us. He might be a very old vampire and set in his ways, but he wasn’t stupid.

“There’s been a murder?” he asked softly.

I nodded, then opened the link between us and said softly,
Will you look after Rhoan for me? I know it’s a huge favor, but—

He leaned forward and stopped my words with a kiss. And oh, what a kiss.

It’s not such a huge favor,
he said after a while, his breath warm and soft against my lips.
Rhoan was a friend long before we got together. I’ll keep him safe for you, have no doubt about that.
Out loud, he added, “Be careful.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted from my soul. I smiled and touched his face lightly. “I will.”

He kissed me again, then added, “Ring me when you finish. We’ve things to discuss.”

Things to discuss, decisions to make. But there was one decision that
didn’t
need to be made. Quinn was back in my life and I was more than happy about that. But in what capacity he stayed there remained to be seen.

I let my fingers slip down his cheeks and across his lips. He kissed my fingertips lightly, sending a tingle right down to my toes. I sighed, but forced myself upright. I wanted to stay, not just for my brother but to soak up the warmth and strength that was Quinn, but I was a guardian, and there were people out there dying.

“Take care when dealing with the bakeneko,” he added, dark eyes filled with concern. “Remember, she’s consumed a number of souls now, and that will make her both fast
and
deadly.”

“Hey, I took out a god of death—how bad can a bakeneko be after that?”

He didn’t say anything. I touched my brother’s shoulder lightly, then left. And the feeling that I’d just tempted fate sat like a weight in my stomach.

T
he top floor of the parking lot had been cordoned off with yellow tape and watchful cops. Blood rode the wind, thick and fresh, and somewhere ahead Kade was speaking, his rich tones bringing a smile to my lips.

A smile that wasn’t likely to stay there given the apparent extent of the blood. This was going to be
nasty
.

I flashed my badge at the officer guarding the top-floor entrance, then ducked under the tape and walked up the ramp. One of Cole’s men—the bird-shifter—was bagging something that looked suspiciously like a chunk of meat, and I paused.

“Is that what I think it is?”

He glanced up, his expression neutral but his brown eyes afire with anger. “Yeah.”

So it
was
an arm. Or what remained of it, anyway. The bakeneko was definitely getting more violent with every kill.

“Stop this thing, will you?” he continued, zipping the bag up with more force than necessary. “I don’t want to see what it does next.”

“Neither do I.” My voice was grim. I glanced up the ramp as Cole’s voice rode the air, then glanced back at the bird-shifter. “Do you actually have a name?”

“People call me Dobbs.”

“First name, or last name?”

“Friends don’t use my first name.”

And neither would his enemies, if that tone was anything to go by. “Thanks, Dobbs.”

He nodded and got back to the gruesome task of collecting the smaller bits of flesh and fat globules that were still scattered about.

The wind hit me full force as I entered the top floor, blowing me back a step before I realized it. I shivered and collected the flyaway ends of my coat, quickly zipping it up. Thank God I’d had the chance to change—my blood-soaked dress would have left me frozen.

Kade and Cole were squatting near the rear of a blue Toyota four-wheel drive. Even from this distance, it was evident that neither man was happy.

I walked across, my boot heels clicking briefly against the concrete before the sound was rushed away by the wind. Neither man looked around, though both would have been aware of my presence.

“What’s up?” I stopped behind Cole and bent to peer under the car. Something that resembled a bloody mess of flesh lay about halfway down.

Not the torso that matched the arm. That arm had been male. This mess was female.

Although I could really only tell that by the pretty gold charm bracelet that was somehow still attached to her visible arm.

“Two victims?” I said, hoping to God I was wrong.

“Two victims,” Cole confirmed, rising and stripping off bloody gloves. “We think this one is unrelated.”

I straightened and met the icy blue of his gaze. “As in wrong place, wrong time?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“That’s uncharacteristic, isn’t it? I mean, she had witnesses when she did the shoe seller in the window, and she made no move against them.”

“Given we are not dealing with anything remotely human, who’s to say what is, and isn’t, characteristic?” Cole motioned me to follow him.