He watched her a long moment and finally nodded. “Get some water and take a minute.”
She did as he directed. Dang, the water tasted good. She ran the bottle over her face and, for the first time in her life, felt normal. Or, at least, what she considered normal. Her life had never been normal. She’d been brought up among privilege, and as soon as she was ready, her parents had shipped her off to school. Most holidays, she hadn’t even gone home. Her parents thought it was best she stay at school. Whatever, they just hadn’t wanted to bother or be bothered. If they hadn’t wanted kids, she always wondered, then why had they?
She wiped her face off on her shirt and picked her weapon up. No more thinking. That part of her life was over. She was never going back there. This was her new reality, and she was going to enjoy the freedom.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Yes, but this time, can you have a weapon, too?”
“I have one,” he said, holding out the staff.
“No, I want you to have one with a blade. When someone comes at me, they aren’t going to have a stick. I want to see what it feels like to fight against a truly armed opponent.”
Charon hesitated, and she thought he would refuse. If so, she knew he would never let her go out. If he truly was preparing her to fight, he’d give her the opportunity to see what true combat felt like. After a long moment, he threw the stick down and pulled two blades. It happened so fast, she wasn’t sure where they came from, but the blades were impressive. They were large and triangular-shaped with H-shaped handles instead of regular grips. The blades themselves were ornately carved and obviously sharp on both sides.
“These are called
katar
.” He held them up for her inspection. “They’re my preferred weapons, and I’ve had them for a very long time.”
She let out a small laugh. “Charon, you’re not much older than me so you can’t have had them very long.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re not even close to my age.”
“Okay, old man, what are you, thirty? Thirty-three?”
He laughed. “This year, I will turn two hundred fifteen, and I’m the baby of the Hunters.”
“Two hundred? That’s not possible.”
“I’m an Ancient, a vampire. Of course it’s possible. Vampires live a long time; Ancients live much longer.”
She was silent for a long moment as the new reality set in. Okay, if vampires exist why couldn’t they live far longer than humans? She finally nodded. “Okay, grandpa, I’ll go easy on you. When we’re finished, I’ll get you some broth and a shawl so you can rest.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Keep talking, Irish, because once I wipe the floor up with you, I’ll take you back to my room and make you scream a different way.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sure, you will.”
Before he could say anything in reply, she and the
naginata
were in motion. She realized immediately he was incredible to look at as he moved with the blades. She forced herself to stay focused since she didn’t want to lose part of her face. The man was utterly lethal, and she was prepared to defend, attack and dodge. As she moved, she was in the zone. She didn’t need to think about what to do next, her body just seemed to know.
But, of course, she couldn’t keep it up. She was human and had limitations. One moment, she was swinging her weapon, and the next, a sharp line of fire lit across her arm. She stumbled and went down hard. The room came back into focus, and she was laying drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. She tried to rise, but her arms were shaky, and one hurt.
Charon knelt next to her and pressed a towel against her upper arm. “Fuck, Irish, I’m sorry. I got you.”
“What?” She glanced at her arm and saw blood. “Crap, I was too slow.”
“Hold still,” he said and before she could protest he licked the wound. His tongue was hot against her sweaty flesh, and she shivered. Instead of the process grossing her out or scaring her, it actually turned her on. She watched transfixed as he moved his tongue over her arm, just as he had licked her nipples and between her legs.
He looked up, and the two of them locked eyes. Slowly, so slowly she could have easily moved to avoid him, he leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers. It was the second time he’d kissed her, and it was so much more than a peck. His lips were soft and he rubbed them gently against her own. But Aislinn wanted more, so she pushed up into his mouth, sealing her lips more firmly against his own.
She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but Charon obviously knew. His tongue eased against her lips, and when she opened her mouth, he slid in. The sensation of his tongue swirling around her own brought shivers. He tasted dark and mysterious. She liked it, liked it a lot. When he eased his tongue out, she chased it with her own. He growled and sucked at her tongue, which caused her toes to curl.
He slid away from her. Aislinn realized she’d wrapped her arms around his neck, but he didn’t try to get away. In fact, it made her feel better to know his breathing was as ragged as her own. Apparently, whatever was going on affected him, too.
“Let’s go back to our room,” he murmured. “I certainly don’t want anyone walking in on us.”
“That would suck.”
“Yeah, it would since I’d have to kill them.” He gave a small smile when he said it, but she didn’t think he was joking. She wasn’t sure what told her that, but he was incredibly dangerous. Not to her, she knew that, too, but she wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.
He easily stood, pulling her to her feet. He picked up his blades and handed her the
naginata
. Taking her hand, he pulled her toward the doorway.
Charon walked along the corridor, when all he really wanted to do was run. It took everything he had not to throw Aislinn over his shoulder. The need for her was almost overwhelming.
Need
, the word was a pale description of what he was feeling. Hell, he wished he understood what was going on. All he knew was he wanted her. Wanted to suck and bite and fuck.
He forced himself to slow down, mentally and physically. Aislinn was a virgin, and though she wanted him, he couldn’t treat her as he did his past lovers. Past. He knew anyone and everyone was in the past. Only Aislinn mattered. She was his future.
The thought brought him to a screeching halt. What the hell? Where was all this coming from? Yes, he liked her, but he wasn’t a settling down kind of guy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up at him quizzically.
He was saved from answering when his phone beeped. Flipping it open, he saw a message from Kenshin requesting a meet in the library. A tiny part of him was glad for the interruption. He needed to get away from her. Get his head back on straight. He also needed to feed. That’s all it was. He needed to feed, then whatever the hell was wrong with him would be fixed.
Chapter Six
Kenshin paced, waiting for all the Hunters to assemble. He’d called the meeting to discuss what could be going on in the city. Instead of using his office, he’d told everyone to meet in the library. It was the safest location, as far as he was concerned, since he knew the leak they had wasn’t coming from any of the Ancients. He had Security working overtime trying to pin the mole down, but so far they hadn’t had any luck. Which, if he thought about it, was just the way their luck had been running lately.
Grimm and Styx came in followed closely by Reaper. The three men nodded at one another, but beyond that didn’t say anything.
Yep, Ancients the chatterboxes of the vampire world.
Kenshin often wondered if they did the quiet thing only in front of him. He imagined them gabbing it up over pizza as they watched a soap opera. No, there was no way, he decided. Though the image might have brought a smile on a different day, today he felt as morose as the others looked.
Talon came in with his arm wrapped around Joelle. Kenshin was surprised. They were usually the last ones to a meeting since Talon made it his mission in life to get his woman naked as much as possible. At least he was stable, Kenshin thought again, which was way better than it had been.
Finally, Charon came in. Kenshin thought about asking him about Aislinn, but decided against it. The whole Ancient/Liaison bond was something none of them really understood, and if Charon hadn’t realized what the woman was to him, Kenshin didn’t want to be the one to spill the beans. Conversely, if he did know, he didn’t look happy or relaxed, which is how Talon appeared after the bond was fully in place.
Maybe the woman wasn’t Charon’s Liaison. Or, if she didn’t want him near her, they were in for trouble. Kenshin glanced over to find Talon also studying Charon and decided to table those worries for later. They could only deal with so much shit at once, and whether or not Charon got a girlfriend wasn’t high on the list.
“I don’t know if all of you are aware, but Styx intercepted a nine-one-one call on the police scanner.” Kenshin addressed them. “By the time he got to the address, police were already on scene. He called Talon and me in. A male was found in the residence, dead from a vampire attack.”
“Human?” Charon asked.
“Yeah,” Styx answered. “His name was Patrick James Flaherty.”
“Flaherty,” Charon cut in. “That’s Aislinn’s last name.”
“It was her older brother,” Talon said. “He was killed approximately two hours before she was attacked. We think whoever did it wanted her whereabouts, since the attacks were so close together.”
“Why?” Charon shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure it does,” Joelle said. “She’s like me. Vampire mojo doesn’t work on her. I don’t know if somebody thinks that makes her a better food source, but they were after her for a reason.”
“Grimm,” Kenshin said as a prompt.
“I checked out the body and the bite marks. The fangs and scent indicate an Ancient.”
“Well, fuck,” Reaper muttered.
“Rogue?” Charon asked.
“Don’t know,” Talon replied. “Though the neck wound is a mess, I wouldn’t say the Ancient who made them is off the leash.”
“That could be worse,” Grimm put in. “One thing to have an Ancient running around mindlessly killing, it’s another if he’s able to plot and plan.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Styx said. “I also don’t think he planned on us arriving on the scene so fast. I’m sure he’s the one that made the nine-one-one call.”
“What’s the point?” Reaper asked.
“He wanted us running around trying to cover his tracks,” Talon said. “He figured we’d be so busy doing cleanup with humans we’d miss the signs of an Ancient.”
“Yeah, but what’s the point?” Joelle asked. “He can’t want the Parakind Community exposed. That’s all anyone needs is a bunch of humans running around with pitchforks and torches. And that’s certainly what would happen.”
Quenton stepped out from behind a large bookcase and eyed them. “Do none of you have an office? Or has this become the official meeting spot?”
“Until we figure out where the leak is coming from I thought this would be the most secure place,” Kenshin said.
“It does seem we have a whole host of problems,” the half-human said softly. “And, to address Joelle’s question, I don’t believe the renegade Ancient wants to expose Parakind. Instead, he wants the PIA to be so focused on damage control that he quietly slips away. His failure comes from the fact that he doesn’t know the Ancients currently sitting here.”
“Explain,” Joelle said. “Please.”
He nodded at her with a slight smile, and Kenshin remembered back to when their exchange hadn’t been so very polite. In fact, Joelle had shoved him, and someone touching him was something Quenton did not allow.
“It’s almost certain that this Ancient has been hidden all his adult life. He’s never been around anyone of his kind so, he assumes that Ancients cannot or will not work together. He has failed to take into account how long these five have worked together and how quickly they will call for backup. They understand one another as well as each other’s inherent strengths and weaknesses. He has no concept so he cannot foresee how they will truly react.”
“Wow,” Joelle said, breaking the silence. “You talk real pretty.”
Quenton burst out laughing and gave her a bow. “My pleasure. My heart sings with the realization that I’ve impressed you.”
It was Joelle’s turn to laugh. The knot in Kenshin’s stomach eased somewhat as he noticed the others smiling at their byplay. The addition of Joelle and Quenton added a dynamic he hadn’t anticipated. Instead of making things uncomfortable or unstable, they actually brought their own unique gifts to the table. Just because they didn’t run out and fight didn’t mean the two couldn’t or wouldn’t add valuable insight and a, much needed, mood-lightener.
“How is this Ancient tied to the blood cult?” Reaper asked.
“That’s an excellent question,” Quenton said with a nod. “But our first question should probably be is he tied to the blood cult?”
“I think so,” Grimm said slowly. “I don’t know how or why, but it just fits right for me.”
“That might be another reason why no one can identify him,” Styx suggested.