“Yes, but a vampire would have had to weave his way through all that fighting and Sally wouldn’t have gone quietly. She would have fought like a hellcat. Someone would have noticed. We do tend to watch each other’s backs during battles.”
“Well.” Wadim let out a heavy sigh. “I know this sounds crazy, but there is only one supernatural race that I know of that can make people disappear without a sound, and that’s the fae.” Wadim stared at her with his eyebrows raised. “I mean pixies can move undetected when they want, that’s for sure, and they have some dead useful magic, but kidnapping a powerful healer without anyone else being the wiser, I don’t see it. Which leads me to believe that it has to have been a fae. I mean…maybe Volcan has gotten involved.”
“Hmm, no, I think he’s got his hands full with the healers he’s already nabbed and the werewolves hunting him. He doesn’t need Sally,” Jen answered.
“She’s a gypsy healer,” Wadim said more to himself.
“Way to state the obvious, Sherlock,” Jen muttered.
“I’m not done making my point, Barbie,” he said curtly.
Jen chuckled. “Oooo, look at history fur ball being all snarky and stuff. It’s hot.”
“Why do you always end up calling some male hot when I’m not around,” Decebel growled as he stepped out of the dark stairwell.
Jen glanced up at him. “Why were you lurking in the stairwell like a creeper? Where’ve you been anyway? One minute you were next to me as we tromped through Vasile’s castle, and the next you’d disappeared.”
“I wasn’t lurking, female. I was texting my girlfriend so she’d know not to call me right now. Did you miss me?” Decebel’s eyes danced with mischief as he stared her down.
Jen noticed Wadim trying to look especially busy.
“Tell her I said hi,” Jen said in a much too perky voice. “And that I will rip her face off and eat it in front of her if I ever figure out who she is. And” —she paused licking her finger to turn the page of the book she wasn’t even reading— “no, I didn’t miss you. The librarian is plenty hairy and stinky enough to remind me of you.”
“Damn,” Wadim gasped under his breath.
Decebel rumbled with laughter. “You didn’t realize how bloodthirsty my Alpha female is, did you?”
“Only when I have to remind you that you are mine, and bitches better back off.” Jen flipped through the book, humming happily as if she hadn’t just threatened to eat a woman’s face—not that she believed for even a second that her mate had a girlfriend. Decebel had discovered how to get under her skin and was using it ruthlessly anytime she irritated him. Boy didn’t realize that he was poking an already pissed off wolf.
“Oh, I realize, mate. I just happen to find you irresistible when you get jealous even over my fake girlfriends.” His warm voice filled her mind and melted over her like warm butter.
Jen decided it wasn’t time to deal with their sexual build up, considering she had a friend missing and one not exactly alive. “Back to what history hottie was saying.” She shot Decebel a challenging glare. He simply shrugged and blew her a kiss.
Wadim cleared his throat. “Okay…um…right. So, Sally is a healer, of course. Healers have always been targeted in the past for their magic. Decebel, you know this. Healers are sought after by many, not just Volcan, because their magic is…” He paused seeming to consider his words. “It’s different. Pure in a way that other supernatural magic isn’t.
“You think someone wanted her specifically because she’s a gypsy healer?” Decebel asked as he walked further into the room.
“I’m certain of it,” the historian answered. “The question is, who?”
Jen slammed the book closed and dropped it on the desk, growling. “We aren’t any closer to finding her than we were three hours ago. What am I supposed to tell Costin?”
“We tell him we are doing everything we can to find her. That’s all we can do, Jennifer,” Decebel said calmly. “They will make a mistake, whoever did this, and when they do, we will find them.”“Maybe, but how long will Sally suffer before they do?”
“How do we know she’s suffering?” he challenged. “Whoever has her might be treating her like a queen.”
“Right,” Jen scoffed. “Because kidnappers are always so kind to their victims. It’s more likely they’ve ripped her toenails off or locked her in a dungeon with rats. Bastards.”
Sally couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. Her stomach muscles screamed from the abuse that had been inflicted upon them as Jericho entertained the nightly patrons. He was amazing at his job. He talked easily, flirted without shame, and treated people as though each of them was his top priority. It was truly a thing of beauty.
“How’d you like your first day of work?” Cross asked as she finished wiping down the end of the bar.
“It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” she admitted. “Jericho is—”
“Something to behold when he’s on,” Cross finished for her.
She nodded. “He definitely knows what he’s doing.”
“I’ll admit. You’re probably learning from the best bartender in the city. Take notes and one day you’ll be as good as he is. He makes a good living slinging liquor and winking at girls” —he paused— “and guys occasionally too.”
Sally laughed. “He’s shameless.”
“Here.” He held out a wad of cash. “These are your tips for tonight. You did good, kid. Now get on out of here and get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Cross looked behind her and spoke a little louder to be heard over the music that was still coming out of the jukebox. “Mikey, walk Sally home.”
“I don’t—” Sally began but Cross stopped her, holding up his hand.
“You work for me. I take care of what is mine. End of story.” With that he turned back and headed to his office.
I take care of what is mine. Those words latched onto her like a wolf on a deer. They felt familiar somehow. What is mine, danced in her head over and over. A hand touched her elbow causing Sally to jump.
“Sorry, Miss Sally,” Mikey’s deep voice rumbled from beside her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if you were ready to go?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She took off her apron and folded it, placing it beneath the counter and then followed Mikey out the door. She called a quick goodbye to Jericho who was busy tallying his cash drawer.
Once they’d stepped outside, the fresh air filled her lungs and helped clear her head. They walked in companionable silence and, once they arrived at the door to her apartment building, she smiled up at her escort. “Thanks, Mikey, I appreciate it.”
“Any time, doll, sleep tight. See you tomorrow.” He waved and then headed back in the direction of the bar.
By the time Sally had taken a quick shower and brushed her teeth, she was ready to crash. Her eyes drooped heavily as she climbed into bed and, though her body was unbelievably tired, her mind was still spinning like a top. The words Cross had spoken to her—I take care of what is mine—rotated over and over in her mind. Sally fell asleep with them gnawing at her gut. She’d heard them before, somewhere, she knew it. But where, and from whom, she couldn’t remember.
Chapter 5
“I want to live. I know that I need to live, not for myself, but for someone else—someone I haven’t met. But I’m lost. I feel so very lost.” ~Jacque
Jacque felt nothing but peace. There was no pain, no anger, and no fear—just peace. But even as she experienced this wonderful feeling of peace, a doubt lingered. Something nagged at her. She knew that she couldn’t stay where she was. She wanted to live. She wanted life in all its messy glory. And she couldn’t live if she stayed in this blissful peace. Jacque wanted to feel pain, because then she’d also feel the joy of healing. She wanted to feel anger, because after she felt the anger, then she would feel forgiveness and mercy. She wanted to feel fear, so that she could appreciate the wonderful feeling of safety. She wasn’t ready to die. Jacque wasn’t afraid of dying, but she was afraid of missing out on all the life she had yet to live.
Jacque could hear chanting—a soft beautiful voice, someone powerful. Jacque could feel herself being pulled along by the magic in the words. She wanted desperately to cling to those words, to let them drag her out of this darkness. She wanted to scream, Here I am. I’m still here and I want to live! But her mouth wouldn’t work. Nothing worked. The only thing she knew to do was to focus all of her consciousness on her life— to remember all that she’d had and all that she was going to have. She wouldn’t give up, not as long as there was still hope that she could return from wherever it was that she was now stranded.
Fane didn’t understand what was happening. He wasn’t dead, but he sure as hell wasn’t alive either. He was angry and scared. His last memories were of his mate covered in blood. Her heart had stopped and his had stopped right along with it. They were one and his wolf couldn’t live without its mate. He remembered there was a baby, their baby, but he hadn’t seen it. And he was sure that Jacque hadn’t seen it either. They’d been ripped away far too soon and he was so very angry.