Death's Servant(37)

“Seriously? That sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Think what you want, furball. I’ve seen it in the past. It’s best to burn it and hope the next structure built here doesn’t occupy the same space. Just as good feelings can permeate the atmosphere of holy structures and scared spaces, same can be said about places were great evil has occurred.”
“Whatever, man.”
“Come on—surely you must be open to some kind of belief. After all, if you’d been told werewolves and vampires were real before your attack you never would have believed it, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Same thing applies here. Witches and witchcraft, wizards and fae, demons and even more shapeshifting creatures from various mythology than you ever guessed, all roam this earth—why not good and evil?”
“I never thought about it too closely.” An uncomfortableness settles inside me. “Are those things true? Do all those… species really exist?”
“Yup. Humans have never been the top predator. We just like to think we are.” Rafe tosses me the lighter and strides to the rented car.
“That’s a depressing eye opener, man. Uh… thanks.”
The taller man opens the car door and addresses me over the roof of the car. “It is what it is, Jon. Best you get used to the idea. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
I strike the lighter, the flame dancing in the fresh morning air of late spring. “Yeah. See you there.” I let the flame die as the couple drives away.
As discussed, I’m going to light the blaze, make sure it takes where we need it and then put in a call to the firefighters. My cover story is going to be that I was driving alone on the isolated road when I saw the smoke. Staying here ’til I hear the sirens approach will ensure the fire doesn’t spread to the woods before they arrive.
I head back to the front door of the mansion, regret washing through me at the loss of such a beautiful home. I flick the lighter on and off in my nervousness, twining through the house to light the spots Rafe indicated earlier.
 A part of me desires to visit the room upstairs one last time… the room were Raine died. But I resist. The brutality of that moment is not how I want to recall the slim young wolf. I light the accelerants as instructed and hightail it out the back door. Fires don’t run as rampant through a structure this large as one might think. All the doors on every floor are open to allow good air flow, but it still takes quite a while for the fire to reach the second floor.
 Once it looks exactly as Rafe described, I call 9-1-1. “I’d like to report a fire.”


I knock on the couple’s hotel room door two hours later. I stopped off at my room first to eat, shower, and change clothes. I had to scrub three times to get the scent of the fire off of me. I debated on waiting until Rafe or Dria called me, but I have too many unanswered questions tumbling in my head.
Why did she refuse my blood when I offered? Why did Rafe want to talk to me privately when Dria was sleeping? Do the two speak with some kind of telepathy? That’s got to be it, right? What else could those penetrating looks they exchange mean?
Rafe answers the door and stands aside, waving me in. He looks tired and drawn, but determined, too. “Did you eat or should I order food?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I settle on the small couch and wait for Rafe to take a chair across from me. “Where’s Dria?”
He motions with his head toward a bedroom door. “She’s still sleeping. Be out for a few more hours I bet.”
I nod, unsure of how to approach him with the questions swirling around in my mind. Straightforward might work best. I clear my throat. “So… do you two speak in each other’s minds?”
“Yes, we do. It’s part of the mate bond we entered fifty-eight years ago.”
I cough, choking on my own spit in astonishment. “Holy shit,” I say when my voice clears. “Did you say fifty-eight years ago?” Rafe smiles and nods. “How freaking old are you, man?”
“I was past thirty when she finally agreed to bond with me.”
“Damn, you look good for your age, you old fart.”
“Ha-ha. Funny. Not.”
“Oh, look at you, using modern phrases and everything.”
Rafe shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Laugh all you want, furball. A supernatural’s ability to blend in will be what ultimately saves him or her from discovery.”
“Look and sound like an ignorant sap and no one will notice you?”
“Something like that.”
“Why did you want me to come here when she was sleeping? I got the impression you two share everything.”