Skye Morrison Vampire 2 Sins of the Father (9 page)

I sat on top of my kitchen counter, sipping
my morning cup of tea, as Jameson stood next to me at the stove
cooking me breakfast. I absolutely loved it when he cooked for me.
The first time he did was about a week ago after we fell asleep on
my couch while watching a movie. He surprised me the next morning
with a deliciously hardy and elaborate spread.

Jameson was an extraordinarily good cook for
someone who hadn’t consumed food in 267 years. He flipped the bacon
and put on the French toast as we talked about our plans for the
day. Jameson had a show tonight at Whiskey Mick’s and would not be
working at The Mausoleum with me. We were making plans to meet up
at my house afterward when the furious pounding on my door
started.

Styvi Nix barked like crazy and Jameson
flashed to the front door. He looked out the peephole, quickly
unlocked it and threw it wide open.

“Thank God you’re both okay,” Nikki said
quickly, sighing in relief. “Have either of you been outside yet
today?” Nikki hurriedly asked Jameson.

I quickly hopped down from the counter and
pulled my black silk robe tight around my body. “Nikki, are you
okay?” I asked, hurrying over to her. “What’s wrong?”

I saw Jameson quickly flash outside in
nothing but his blue boxer shorts and I looked back at Nikki. She
was shaking her head, her eyes wide and apologetic. “It’s bad,
cupcake. Someone completely trashed both of your cars.”

My jaw dropped and my brow furrowed in
confusion. “What?” I whispered as I shook my head in denial.

“I just got home from Lyric’s and I freaked
out when I pulled up,” she said pulling me toward the door. “You’ve
got to see this.”

I let her lead me outside and, when my
driveway came into view, my knees got weak. My feet stopped moving
on their own accord as I saw Jameson standing in the driveway next
to what was left of our cars.

I put my hands to my mouth and shook my head.
My car
! My sassy little beloved red two-seater was an
absolute wreck. All of the windows had been smashed out, the tires
slashed, and it looked as if someone had taken a baseball bat and a
wicked set of keys to the body. “Oh God,” I whispered as I slowly
gravitated toward what was left of my Pontiac Fiero.

“We should call the cops,” Nikki said as she
pulled her cell phone out of her jeans.

Jameson quickly jogged to us, stopping us
from walking any closer, and took the cell phone out of her hands.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said calmly. “Mind if I borrow
this?”

Nikki’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Uh…okay…I guess. But, shouldn’t we call the police?” I turned to
Jameson, my eyes asking him the same question.

Jameson looked me square in the eyes and
shook his head. His eyes were filled with a careful warning that I
didn’t quite understand. He turned back to Nikki. “No. I have quite
a few outstanding speeding tickets and I’d rather not get them
involved,” he lied easily. “Besides, I think I know who did
it.”

My eyes got wide and I gasped as I instantly
thought of the only person it could have possibly been. “Jesse…” I
whispered.

He glanced back over at me, shook he head
‘No’ infinitesimally and poignantly warned me again with his eyes.
“I’m going to go make a call. You two stay right here and stay away
from the cars.”

We watched as Jameson jogged back inside.
Nikki turned to me and furrowed her brow. “Why in the hell would
Jesse trash your cars?” she asked confused. “He’s not that crazy,
is he?”

I sighed and thought about it. Jameson had
shaken his head ‘No’ when I said Jesse’s name, so maybe he thought
it wasn’t him. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would possibly
have had a reason to do this. “I don’t know anymore,” I shook my
head tiredly, answering Nikki’s question.

I wrapped my arms around my waist as my eyes
slid unwillingly to Jameson’s formerly pristine black BMW z4
sDrive35i roadster. His once beautiful car had suffered the exact
same fate as mine. His windows were all broken, his tires slashed,
and the body was horribly pocked with dents and numerous deep
scratches.

I took a helpless deep breath and shook my
head, confused as to why someone would want to do this to us.

I turned to my car and slowly walked up to
the driver’s side door. It was slightly ajar, hanging at a weird
angle, and moved to close it. I suddenly stopped, my hand hovering
a mere inch from the window frame, and my brain immediately went
into overload. I started to shake violently as I stared
uncomprehendingly down at my front seat.

“Cupcake?” Nikki called to me suddenly,
uncertainty in her voice, and I tore my gaze away from the front
seat to look at her with wide, terrified eyes. She quickly rushed
over to me, grabbed my hand and dragged me inside.

My feet felt like they were encased in cement
and weren’t cooperating very well. Nikki dragged me to the couch,
sat me down and yelled out to Jameson. “Jameson, get down here!
Something is wrong with her. I think she’s going into shock or
something.”

Jameson ran down the stairs, cell phone to
his ear, and kneeled down to look me in the eyes. “Oh, love,” he
groaned regretfully as he absorbed the shocked state I was in. He
wrapped one arm around my neck and pulled me to his chest. “I told
you to stay away from the cars,” he said gently. He leaned his head
back momentarily and spoke hurriedly into the cell phone again
before closing it and setting it down on the floor.

Jameson turned to Nikki as he hugged me
tightly. “Can you take Styvi Nix into the backyard and keep her
occupied for a little while?”

“But,” Nikki started to argue. She sounded
like she didn’t want to leave my side.

“Nikki, please,” Jameson said pleading with
her. “I have some people who are coming to help and I’m afraid
Styvi’s not going to deal well with them being in her house.”

Nikki reluctantly agreed and scooped up a
still barking Styvi Nix into her arms and carried her out the back
door and into the backyard.

I shook my head as I fought what my mind was
trying to show me.
No
, I thought silently.
No
. My
mind flashed to what I had just seen in the front seat of my car
and what I had seen on the PVIP table at The Mausoleum two nights
ago and I unknowingly opened my mouth to release a bloodcurdling
scream.

Jameson quickly, but gently covered my mouth
with his hand, effectively stifling the sound before it could be
heard, and leaned forward to touch his forehead to mine. “Shh,
baby, shh,” he gently shushed me as he slowly took his hand away
from my mouth. I stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth open, and
struggled to speak. Nothing would come out and I started
hyperventilating with the panic I felt finally settle in.

“Jesus,” Jameson swore helplessly as he
picked me up, flashed to the kitchen, and set me down on the
kitchen counter. He quickly rummaged through my cabinets and found
a bottle of Johnny Walker Black as he grabbed a glass and brought
it over, pouring two healthy shots into it and held it to my lips.
“Drink, love…you have to drink this. It’ll help, I promise.”

I managed to hold my breath long enough to
chug the glass. The liquid burned hot down the entire length of my
esophagus and settled heavily in my stomach. Jameson poured another
generous shot and made me drink that one too. He managed to coax
three glasses in me before I couldn’t take another sip. We sat
there for a few minutes as Jameson rubbed circles on my back and I
worked at slowing my breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” Jameson finally said
softly.

I turned to him and he wiped the silent tears
from my cheeks. “Why is this happening?”

We heard the roar of a sports car come
blasting down my street and screech to a stop in the cul-de-sac
outside my house. “Archer and Quinn are here,” Jameson said as he
quickly kissed my forehead. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,
okay?”

“Please don’t leave me,” I begged him as I
wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please, Jameson.”

He growled with frustrated indecision and ran
his fingers through his hair before picking me up off the counter
and flashing outside with me. Jameson quickly set me down on the
entry sidewalk and pulled my face to his chest as he wrapped his
arms protectively around me. “Don’t look, okay love?”

I gladly buried my face so I didn’t have to
look at my car or what was sitting inside of it again.

“Jameson,” I heard Archer roughly growl in
greeting. His voice was frightening. There were so many emotions
laced in that one word. Mostly, he sounded wrathful.

“
Athair
,” Jameson respectfully rumbled
back. “Quinn.”

“Where’s the girl?” Archer growled lowly.

“She’s in the back yard,” Jameson answered.
My head snapped up at the mention of Nikki and I looked up at
Archer and involuntarily flinched.

Archer was already staring at me. Hard. His
brow was furrowed, his eyes were mostly drained of their beautiful
ice blue color, and his nostrils flared angrily. Archer
deliberately slid his cloudy eyes irately over my body, head to toe
and back. I blushed in disconcerted embarrassment and was surprised
to find that it was tinged with a smidge of shame. I realized that
I was standing outside in nothing more than my tiny, filmy black
robe. My nude body was only a mere slip of the sash or a gust of
wind away from his penetrating, furious eyes. I quickly looked up
at Jameson and saw that he was closely watching Archer, his eyes
equally as worried as mine. I looked down and saw that his only
article of clothing was still just a meager pair of blue boxer
shorts. It was clear why Archer was angry with me. Jameson and I
were obviously a couple now. I didn’t care what Archer thought,
though. He was married and I had moved on. I don’t have time for
cheaters or liars.

I gathered up my courage and asked about
Nikki. “What do you want with her?” I asked cautiously.

“Quinn is here to alter her memory,” Jameson
explained gently, “…and those of your nearest neighbors. It’s just
a precaution, love.”

I looked over at Quinn uncertainly. “You
won’t hurt them?”

He somberly, silently shook his head and
turned and walked to the gate on the side of the house before
disappearing behind it.

I looked back at Archer and immediately
recognized the anger and hurt that burned so intently in his eyes.
It was the same look that I had had in my very own just two days
before when I saw him and Aoife kissing up in his office. He had no
right to look at me that way, not now; not after lying to me about
Aoife.
Don’t
, I silently told him as I felt tears sting my
eyes again. The alcohol that I consumed was helping to dull my
feelings, but it wasn’t helping as much as I needed it to. I didn’t
want to cry over Archer Rhys ever again.

A white van pulled up horizontally to the end
of my driveway, drawing my attention away from Archer. Two tall,
muscular men in black t-shirts and slacks got out and silently
walked up to my car. I recognized one of the men immediately. It
was the emerald-eyed man that I saw sitting at the PVIP table with
Archer last night. He was carrying a black duffle bag and called
out to Archer.

Archer poignantly looked back and forth
between Jameson and me a few more times before he wordlessly turned
around and joined the two men.

“He’s really mad at us,” I said under my
breath after a minute.

Jameson reached for my hand and held it
tight. “Aye. We knew he would be, though,” he whispered as he
reached with his free hand to cup my cheek. “Do you regret your
decision, Skye?”

I turned my head into his touch and kissed
his palm tenderly. I looked deeply into his light green eyes and
put everything I felt for Jameson behind mine. I wanted him to see
and feel just how much last night meant to me; how much HE meant to
me. “Never,” I said softly against his hand.

A rough, metal screaking sounded and Jameson
and I turned to my car. Archer had yanked my driver’s side door
open and ‘Emerald Eyes’ was bent over, reaching into my car. My
blood immediately ran cold and I started to tremble again. I wanted
to hide, to seek solace in Jameson’s strong arms, but I couldn’t
seem to tear my gaze away.

He stood up and in each hand was a fistful of
hair that was attached to a severed head. My stomach churned but I
couldn’t look away. In E.E.’s right hand was the head of a man who
looked to be about twenty-five years old. He had short black hair
and an awful death grimace. My face suddenly started to tingle and
an icy chill swept down my entire body. I got incredibly light
headed as I clutched my stomach and fought hard to keep the scotch
down.

I looked over at the severed head in the
man’s left hand and that was the one that upset me the most. I
started trembling harder and took a step backwards as the
light-headed feeling intensified and black spots danced in my
vision. The head in his left hand belonged to my ex-boyfriend Jesse
Prescott. His long, dirty blond hair was horribly matted with dried
blood and his eyes and mouth were open.
Jesse!
The tingling
in my face increased to pin pricks and I had the sudden,
overwhelming sensation of falling as everything went dark.

I became vaguely aware of low voices speaking
heatedly in the distance and I fought my way out of the comfortable
cocoon of darkness.

“You have NO right to be angry with me,
Athair
,” Jameson growled under his breath. “YOU brought
Aoife here, not me. What did you expect to happen? You think she
can’t see? You think she doesn’t see the way your wife looks at
her? The way your wife treats her?”

“You know why I had to bring her here,”
Archer hissed back. “I had no choice!”

“And I didn’t either! I CARE about her,
dheartháir
! You think it was easy for me to sit there and
see her cry over you, over HER?”