Bite Deep (25 page)

Her lips pressed tight. Coulter didn't play by the rules and for all she knew, he was paying Bowden to look the other way, just like Jericho was. She needed to play this smart, which meant maybe looking outside the law to uphold some justice.

* * *

Jericho sat in his office at the back of the bar, talking to Turk and Reaper over late-morning cups of coffee. After he'd briefed Turk last night about Coulter's attack, they'd both ridden to his hotel, broken into the deserted office and had found the room where Coulter was registered under Jack Smith. A quick search of the room, however, revealed it empty, the occupant gone. Wherever Coulter had disappeared to, it wasn't back to his hotel.

Blades had been sent to check the private airstrip on the town's outskirts, while some G1s now staked out the hotel in case Coulter returned there, others checking other hotels in the town. At first light, Jericho had sent Frost to Crystal Waters to check their security set-up in case Coulter had the bright idea of showing up there. After all, his bold attack against the Solbergs showed he wasn't afraid of getting his hands bloodied to get what he wanted. And now, with a clear enemy in their sights, the crew had pulled together, all friction about Lydia put firmly behind them.

As a bonus, Jericho now knew the Hunters had what they believed to be some sort of cure for the Breed virus. He was skeptical, but perhaps with some luck, it might hold answers to helping those struggling with the virus. All he needed to do was convince Lydia to part with it so he could get the contents analysed.

‘Did the cop say what was in the files?' Turk asked.

‘Studies about Breed,' Jericho replied. ‘I doubt it was anything new, but I'd like to get them back all the same.'

A knock at the closed office door, then the door opened to reveal Karla. Frost glowered behind her.

‘What's wrong?' Jericho asked, getting to his feet.

Karla jerked a thumb back at Frost. ‘Your dog here won't take the hint and leave my place alone. If Vaughn sees him, he's going to be furious.'

‘I sent him, Karla.' Jericho passed a weary hand across his forehead. ‘He was there to help you.'

‘I wasn't even allowed in the compound,' Frost said from behind her.

She gave him an angry look. ‘What did you expect? I've got Vaughn questioning all my security and my women are being hunted. You think I'm just going to roll over and play nice to anyone who wants access to my grounds?'

‘He was there to help,' Jericho repeated, sitting back down. ‘Nothing more.'

Reaper and Turk exchanged glances, then quickly exited the office, grabbing the bemused-looking Frost on their way to the bar. Jericho could have killed them for leaving him alone with Karla, though he did understand their unwillingness to face down a furious female Breed.

She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. ‘I didn't ask for your help, Jericho.'

‘There is more at stake here than your pride, you know,' he told her.

‘Look.' She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. ‘I appreciate what you're doing. I know this is all very hard for you, with Vaughn being around.'

Jericho sat back, wondering what her angle here was. He knew this visit wasn't just to complain about Frost trying to help. ‘You don't know anything about me, Karla.'

‘I know that Vaughn doesn't want you here.' She ducked her head, dark hair spilling forward. ‘But I do. Please believe me on that.'

Jericho didn't say anything to that. He'd done everything he could to discourage Karla's affections. Not only was she the sister of a King he despised, but she was also like most of the full-bloods. Breed who thought they had the right to rule over mutts. It made him sick to his stomach.

His caution ratcheted up a few notches as Karla stepped around the desk. He swivelled the chair around to face her, noting suddenly the skirt skimming her hips, low cut blouse showing a hint of cleavage. He ran a hand across his mouth, trying to find the words to tell her nicely to leave. After last night with Lydia, his nerves were tight, close to snapping. Karla hesitated, sensing his tension, then pushed herself boldly between his legs, reaching out to run a finger along his jaw.

Jericho's fingers dug into the armrest. He wanted to push her away, even as he remembered the horror in Lydia's face when he'd revealed a mere hint of the beast within him. He knew there was no hope for anything between them. She saw him as he was; a monster, a creature cursed. A loneliness he never knew existed reared its head and without thought attached to the action, one of his hands rose to brush against Karla's legs. She shivered.

‘Have you got anything for me yet?' she asked, voice low and husky.

‘Nothing yet.' Jericho's hands slipped up under her skirt as a pulsing need strummed through his veins, demanding to be satisfied, his restraint fracturing. ‘What does Vaughn say?' He stroked Karla's thighs and heard her breath quicken.

‘I get the impression he thinks everything is your fault.' Her smile was sympathetic. ‘And I suspect he's cooking up a plan, I just don't know what.'

The memory of the Enforcer's presence dulled the heat in Jericho's blood and his hand faltered. A cough at the door saw him shift away from Karla, not missing the disappointment flashing across her face. He leaned back to see Winger in the doorway, eyes fixed on the floor.

‘That cop's here to see you.' Winger said, ‘She's not in uniform, so you might be safe this time.'

Lydia appeared behind the prospect and Jericho jolted to his feet, sending Karla stumbling back with a startled look. Winger glared at Lydia.

‘I didn't say you could follow me back here,' he protested, then glanced at Jericho to gauge if he was annoyed. ‘I told her to wait.'

‘Sorry.' Lydia ducked around Winger, entering the office. ‘But this is important.'

‘Lydia,' Jericho said, ignoring the stunned look Karla was giving him. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I had something to ask you.' Lydia glanced at Karla, then stuck out her hand. ‘Hello, you're Karla Malthus, aren't you? I've seen the website for Crystal Waters. Looks like a real great place.'

A silence fell as Karla stared at Lydia, ignoring the outstretched hand. Jericho tensed, hoping the female Breed wasn't going to make a scene. Lydia hesitated, then dropped her hand, looking confused at the frosty reception.

Karla turned to him, eyes accusing. ‘She stinks of you.'

‘Time for you to leave,' Jericho said quickly, ushering her over to Winger. ‘I'll call you if I hear anything more.' He gave Winger a look, one that said,
get her outta here
, and the prospect swallowed but escorted the female Breed from the office. Karla threw Jericho a hollow look as she left. But Jericho didn't care. His eyes dragged to Lydia, registering she wearing jeans, shirt and a loose jacket with the sleeves rolled up.

‘Something I can do for you?' He tried to guess why she was here. He didn't believe for a second it was to check on him. Probably more to ask again if what she'd seen last night was real. Maybe for more proof. He'd have thought the Solbergs would have warned her well enough to stay out of Breed business, but if they had, she clearly wasn't listening.

‘What was her problem?' Lydia asked. ‘Did I say something wrong?'

‘No.' Jericho sat down behind his desk. ‘She's just uptight. As you can imagine, she's very keen to figure out who killed one of her girls.'

‘And so she comes to you, not the police,' Lydia said slowly. ‘Because you've got Bowden in your pocket, right?'

Jericho shrugged a noncommittal shoulder, suddenly worried Lydia had come here with the insane idea of giving him an ultimatum to confess about the blood in the field. Or worse, to accuse him again of knowing who killed Anna. If she tried to force his hand, he didn't know what he would do. After all, how many times did he have to deny it, before she'd believe him?

‘You're looking very casual for a workday,' he said.

Lydia's hands fiddled with the hem of her jacket. ‘I called in sick. I just couldn't …' Her voice thickened and trailed off. She glared at him, as if everything was his fault, and she cleared her throat. ‘I want to find Anna's killer, just like you do. But Bowden won't let me anywhere near the case files. '

‘Why come to me?' Jericho asked.

Her back straightened. ‘I thought we could work together.'

‘Are you serious?' He leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. This, he had not been expecting.

‘Yes. You've got a killer in your town, hunting your kind. And I overheard some of your crew talking about someone important coming.'

‘The Breed King.'

She rolled her eyes. ‘I'm sorry, I can't take that seriously.'

‘But you can accept witches and Breed?' Despite himself, Jericho almost laughed.

She gave him a serious look. ‘The only king I recognise is Elvis.'

He did laugh now, delighted that in spite of the circumstances, Lydia was still prepared to do what needed to be done.

He rubbed his chin, thinking hard, going over faces in town he thought he knew so well. ‘I wouldn't mind some payback. Those bullets hurt like all fuck. Unfortunately, he never returned to the Emerald Fields Hotel and we don't know where he is.'

‘I think I've got a good idea,' Lydia said grimly.

‘How?' Jericho asked.

‘Cop intuition.' She cocked her head to the side, eyes challenging. ‘You in or not?'

He gave himself a moment, trying to control the blood pounding in his ears, finding Lydia's take-charge attitude almost erotic. He got to his feet, opened the cabinet next to the fridge and took out his semi-automatic, tucking it into the back of his jeans. He hesitated, then grabbed a second, smaller 9mm and tucked it beside the larger gun.

‘Just don't shoot him as soon as we see him, alright?' Lydia said.

He gave her a wolfish grin. ‘I promise to wait.'

Chapter 25

Lydia sipped her takeaway coffee, trying not to feel uncomfortable with Jericho's hulking presence in the passenger seat of the ute. They sat across the road from the Red Roof Inn, a shambling building sitting forlornly near a deserted industrial building.

She turned to Jericho, who'd requested the brief stop at a café they'd passed, grabbing coffee for them both and some breakfast rolls. ‘What do you know about this coven my mother was supposed to be part of?' she asked.

He finished his second bacon and egg muffin and began licking his fingers methodically. More like a big cat than a wolf, she thought.

‘All of that was before my time here,' he said. ‘But I heard the stories. My predecessor was pretty tight with them.'

Lydia stared out the window, frowning. ‘And you believe it all?'

‘You sound skeptical.'

‘Gee.' She gave him a dry look. ‘Can't imagine why I'm having a tough time believing my mother was a witch.'

‘Apparently, the coven was one of the most powerful in the world. The Breed Hunters called this place the Witches Cauldron.' He wiped his hands on his jeans. ‘Of course, the new generation of Breed coming through doesn't care about that kind of stuff. They just know that Camden was made safe by the older generation. That's what they believe in now. But the older ones, we know who to be thankful to.' He looked at her, serious. ‘It's people like your mother who made our kind safe. There's a great debt owed to her bloodline.'

Lydia didn't reply to that, didn't know how to respond. Instead, she set her empty cardboard coffee cup in the centre console and gave him an expectant look. ‘Ready?'

He stared at her like she'd just asked if the sky was blue. She sighed and leaned across to open the glove compartment to pull out her own police issue. She'd told Bowden she was sick with the flu and had tried to ignore the relieved way he'd agreed she should take a couple of days to recover. Given the multiple home invasions, she kind of felt entitled to time off.

Jericho stopped her hand before she could shut the glove compartment, eyes locked on the black case Coulter had given her, sitting inside. ‘Is that in there for a reason?'

‘I don't know what to do with it yet,' she replied, not meeting his eyes.

He shut the compartment and stared out the window. ‘Are you feeling okay?'

‘You mean, do I feel like I'm going to morph into a giant werewolf?' she asked sarcastically. ‘Because the answer is no. It's I don't feel okay about any of this.'

Jericho turned to her. ‘You keep those injections somewhere close. Just in case Coulter was right.'

She hitched a shoulder, not answering. Jericho's serious express faded and amusement filled his eyes, like maybe he was just along to see what she was going to do next. ‘Want to tell me why you think Coulter is hiding here?'

‘It's where I'd go if I wanted to hide out,' she replied.

‘Don't you think it's a bit obvious?'

‘They can be the best hiding places sometimes.'

‘And do you have a plan?'

‘Oh, I don't know. We bust into his room and shoot out his kneecaps?'

‘Okay.' Jericho opened the car door.

‘Wait.' Lydia grabbed his arm. ‘I was joking about shooting him.'

Jericho's eyes flicked down to her hand. ‘I wasn't.'

Her grip tightened. ‘If he's here, we talk first. We're not here to kill him.'

‘You don't understand my world,' Jericho reminded her. ‘You don't know the rules.'

She let him go. ‘I know the law and we're not going to go in there and commit grievous bodily harm on a stranger.'

‘He's not a stranger.' Jericho's voice was cold. ‘He's a Hunter, and they're all the same.'

He got out, slamming the car door. Lydia swore and followed, checking her safety was on before tucking the gun into the back of her jeans. She hurried after Jericho as he strode across the road.