Raven Mask (2 page)

I didn’t feel like listening to music. I normally do when I’m driving. Part of me felt unreal, disconnected from reality. Timothy’s lifeless brown eyes and that angry cut haunted me.

The killer’s hand had been steady, not careless or driven by passion. I was betting the murder had been premeditated. Whoever had killed Timothy had planned it and taken the boy when no one was looking. If the vampire had gotten into his mind, Timothy might’ve enjoyed every minute as he slowly slipped into the abyss of death.

I heard a rumble before lights flashed in my rearview mirror. The car behind mine swerved into the middle lane, speeding up until it was next to mine. The little metal cobras against the shimmering purple paint gave away its model, though I couldn’t see the driver through the tinted windows. They hit the gas and the Mustang lurched forward. I shook my head. If they thought I would race, they were wrong.

When I heard another rumble I glanced at the Mustang. “Good Lady, I could outrun your car on foot, you idiot.”

They did it again. I was about to give them the one-finger salute when my cell phone rang from the console. I grabbed the headset, placing it in my ear and answering without bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Yeah?”

“What’s up?” It was Rupert.

“Oh, trying to get some idiot to understand I don’t feel like racing.”

“What kind of car is it?”

I told him.

He laughed. “Yeah, you don’t have a chance.”

“Gee, you think?”

“Occasionally.”

The purple car slowed and pulled into the lane behind me.

“Rupert.”

“What?”

“They’re on my ass,” I growled. My agitation caught the wolf’s interest. I took a deep breath, forcing a steady hand over my emotions. Had it been closer to the full moon and had there been any actual triggers, it would’ve been harder for me to squish her. Thankfully, it wasn’t, and when I focused on shielding, she quieted. Shape-shifting while driving…could law enforcement ticket for that?

After a long pause he asked, “Can you shake them?”

“Yeah, hold on.” I plucked the earpiece out of my ear and tossed it into the passenger seat.

Well, if up my ass was where they wanted to be…

I slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel at ten and two. My tires squealed to a halt, echoed by the sound of the Mustang’s. I waited for the space of a heartbeat for the Mustang to slam into my Tiburon. When the impact finally came it was more of a tap than the big crash boom I expected.

The man who emerged from the car looked furious. His dark brown hair rose in porcupine spikes, and a black leather jacket covered his light gray sweater.

“Kass!” he yelled, “what the fuck?”

I waited until he was close to the driver’s side window to lower it.

“You asked me if I could shake them.”

“I didn’t tell you to slam on your fucking brakes!”

I grinned in defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t fuck with me. Did that ever occur to you?”

He tilted his head. “Wait. You knew it was me?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you slam on your brakes?”

“Under the circumstances, it seemed appropriate.”

“I don’t really see the point in risking your life just to get someone off your ass. One of us could’ve been hurt.”

“One of us, yes. I think you’re forgetting something.”

“You may be a werewolf,” his voice was low, “but everyone has their weakness.”

“Fortunately, fiberglass isn’t one of mine. If you’re thinking about trying me, don’t, because I am seriously not in the fucking mood tonight.”

Rupert rocked back on his heels and put his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Fine.”

“What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I had some things to pick up from Texas and was on my way home when I saw you.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His smile was feral. “You act like I’ve never seen your license-plate number.”

“Where’d you get the Mustang? What happened to the Phantom?” The last I knew, the Phantom, a smoke gray Hummer H2, was in the shop.

“Sold it.”

“Why? You loved that car.”

“Because it was my car and everyone knew.”

“Ah.” I understood. “So the Mustang is your incognito car?”

“For the time being.”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“That’s the point.”

“Did you ever get the Hummer out of the shop?”

“No, I sold it to the guy who’d been working on it.”

“What was wrong with it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

I dropped it. When Rupert said you don’t want to know, you really didn’t want to. Obviously, the car wasn’t that bad if the guy from the shop had bought it. You could deal with a bit of blood by getting new upholstery. But more than that would take some serious reconditioning. It probably wasn’t just a bloody nose that made Rupert get rid of it.

“Where are you headed?” Rupert asked.

“Home.”

“Which home?” He pulled up the leather sleeve of his jacket and looked at his watch. “You still have about six hours until dawn.”

I didn’t always stay the night with Lenorre. Recently I’d been spending more time at her place. We’d learned we share a common interest in black-and-white movies and cuddling. I’d slept in her bed and she’d held me while I slept, but we still hadn’t had sex. We’d gotten close when I was wolf-ridden, but Lenorre would not take me when the wolf was in control. It’d only happened once or twice, but since then I hadn’t reoffered. She didn’t push it, not really. Neither one of us had made that final leap to cement the relationship.

She was probably waiting for me to act, but beyond kissing and touching, I hadn’t been able to.

I could be brave in the face of danger and a chicken-shit when it came to love. Every woman has her hang-up. Why did it feel like I was collecting them?

I sighed. “I’m going to Lenorre’s after I stop by my apartment.”

“Did the cops call you out here?” His gaze was very blue.

I didn’t see a reason to deny it. “Yeah.”

“How bad was it?”

“Bad.”

“Do you want help?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

“All right, I’ll follow you.” The keys jingled in his hands. “Deal?”

“Deal, but if you start riding my ass again—”

“You’ll slam on the brakes.”

“You bet your ass I will,” I said to his back.

Chapter Three

I went inside alone to grab a few things and didn’t bother turning any lights on. Being a werewolf has its perks, one of which is excellent night vision. Wolves in the wild rely mostly on their sense of smell, but they also have good night sight. In a wolf’s eyes, the abundance of rods, or nerves that are sensitive to low light, is what gives it the ability to see in the dark. Unfortunately, rods are monochromatic, and in the dark the number of rods washes away my ability to perceive colors other than those of a black-and-white film. Fortunately, if there’s light, my vision is normal. Not being able to perceive color in the dark may seem like a downside. Truthfully, it isn’t such a high price to pay given the fact I can actually see. When you make a living hunting and killing things that aren’t human, you learn to appreciate life’s small mercies.

In the bedroom I opened the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out two pairs of undies, socks, and a clean bra. It really didn’t matter what color they were. I fished my backpack from beneath the bed, tossing the undergarments in, along with a nightshirt that was originally black and white. Lenorre had given me the shirt that promoted the club she owned. The two little white Vs on it, like upside-down mountains, were supposed to be vampire fangs. Underneath the fangs in cryptic bleeding letters was The Two Points. I yanked two pairs of jeans off a hanger, what I was hoping was my green thermal, and what I was pretty sure was a black-and-white striped sweater.

I stashed everything in the bag and tossed it over my shoulder. My leather jacket was in the car. I thought about grabbing another coat, but I was just going over to Lenorre’s, not to a fashion show. Hell, she had seen me when I’d woken looking like the Bride of Frankenstein. Of course, not a curl on Lenorre’s head was ever out of place. Looking perfect in the morning
so
doesn’t count if you’re a vampire. They don’t move. Trust me, I know, because trying to move them is a bitch. I learned not to fall asleep on the very edge of the bed with Lenorre holding me, because when I woke about to fall off, she wouldn’t budge. Being a lycanthrope, I could have moved her, but it was easier to just move myself.

There was an upside. I didn’t have to worry about accidentally kicking her in my sleep and we never fought over the covers.

I shut all the doors in the apartment, grabbed my laptop, and left. After I nodded in Rupert’s direction, letting him know I was ready, the Mustang’s lights flicked on and I squinted, stifling a growl. Sudden bright lights shattering my night vision hurt like hell. He was just messing with me. I unlocked the Tiburon, tossed the backpack into the passenger seat, and carefully put the laptop bag flat on the floorboard. Rupert waited for my lead.

He had, after all, never been to Lenorre’s house, so I was curious to see his expression when we got there. It was a house worth staring at.

Rupert followed me to the porch with only the sound of our boots crunching the dead grass. I knocked on the door, lightly, waiting for footsteps on the other side. I could usually hear Rosalin, friend and beta werewolf of the Blackthorne pack, bounding down the stairs. She was the one who customarily opened the door. Rosalin was one of the many residents living under Lenorre’s roof. She also worked for Lenorre at The Two Points.

Rupert hadn’t so much as blinked at the size of the house. What kind of place did he live in? I’d never seen it. We had a bet several months ago, when he’d told me to try and find out where he lived. But the last case I’d worked on with the police had interfered and I’d never figured it out.

It was silent before the front door opened to reveal Lenorre’s blank and beautiful face. The long black curls of her hair were pulled off her shoulders and piled at the back of her head, held in place by a metallic hairpin decorated with rubies.

A stray curl had broken free, falling over her pale cheek. Against her dark hair and pale skin, her eyes were striking. At first glance one might pass them off as the blue-gray some humans have. But Lenorre was not human, and her eyes were the true gray of misty storm clouds that changed to liquid silver when she embraced her power.

I’d never seen anyone with eyes like hers.

Her crimson gown had a spill of white lace around the collar and wrists. It appeared to be a Victorian dressing gown, but when she stepped back, I caught a glimpse of long white leg peeking through a slit in the velvet. As I raised my gaze to the gown’s scoop neck, a jolt of longing shot through me. The dress was tight, offering a demure amount of décolletage. It was definitely too risqué to be truly Victorian.

“I see you have brought a guest.” Her expression was unreadable as Rupert followed.

“You don’t mind?” I asked, hopeful she wasn’t irked with me for bringing a friend without her consent. It was her home. I hadn’t intended to be discourteous, but you never know how someone will react until they do so, especially vampires.

She gave me a not-so-happy look before turning to walk into the parlor. “You could have asked.” She didn’t have a thread of anger in her voice.

The calmness of her words surprised me. “I know.” I placed my things on a white armchair just inside the room. “I didn’t think about it. I apologize.”

“I am disappointed you did not ask my permission. You did not take my feelings into consideration,” she explained, stepping closer.

I looked up into those intensely smoky eyes and felt like an ass.

“I’m—”

She placed a finger against my lips. “You have already apologized. There is no need for you to say you are sorry again.” She touched my cheek gently. “All I ask is that you do not make the same mistake twice.”

I suddenly felt like I was being scolded. I began to defend myself against the comment when she moved, catching me off guard. Her arm snaked behind my back and she pulled me against her.

With her body so close to mine, her curves against me with only our clothes as a barrier, I gasped.

She cupped my cheek, and though she held me gently, I knew the strength she carried in her mere fingertips. She bowed her head.

“You are always so torn between love and war.” Her words caressed my lips, tickling. I shut my eyes, unnerved by the sudden closeness, by the heat building between my legs. I felt her other hand at my back, tracing the raven tattooed on my skin. The beak started between my shoulder blades. Lenorre’s hand swooped downward, following the line of tail feathers to my lower back.

“You’re always distracting me from a good fight.”

“If you want to fight, we can fight, but neither of us holds our tempers on a short leash.” Her lips moved against mine, terribly and utterly distracting. “I can think of far better things to do with you than fight.”