need to come back here.”
Jackson groaned under his breath. What did he have to do to keep this woman satisfied? His dick lay exhausted in his hand as he relieved himself. It was doubtful that Avery would get another rise out of him this morning, but she sounded determined to try.
“Babe?”
“Can I finish my piss?” he said more sharply than he intended. She didn’t respond. He knew better than to think she was offended. Nor would it matter if she was. Money and fucking were the extent of her interests, and he provided both in spades, though he would cut back on the latter the moment she was pregnant. Heirs to secure the Striker family line were all his father and uncle asked of him these days. That and a wife who harbored no ambitions beyond marrying into a prominent family, and was as pleasing to the eye as she was dim. Uncle Garrett had selected Avery for him based on these exacting requirements.
“Can you piss faster?”
He ground his teeth and willed his bladder to slow down. He had refused to see this woman, one year his senior, for months. Then his father threatened to disown him unless he fell in line and fast. He was done waiting for Jackson to get over Cassidy, a woman who, besides being too bright for her own good, was also enslaved to a vampire and therefore lost to him.
Officially, anyway.
By some unfathomable miracle, she still lived and seemed very much herself. Sometimes he could cajole her into useful conversation. Eventually he’d get an opening to reach her, make her see reason, or, better yet, take that cunning bastard bloodsucker out of the picture entirely.
Until then, Jackson would bide his time, be vigilant, and do what he was told. Even if that meant screwing until his dick fell off with a woman who didn’t give a shit about him outside his family’s bank accounts and his ability to keep it up in bed. Which right now he definitely couldn’t. He checked his Rolex, which she insisted he wear to bed. Ten past five in the morning.
“I need to get going,” he called and flushed to drown out her renewed plea. Snatching up a discarded pair of briefs and his running shorts, he pulled them on. He didn’t look at the dark-haired woman in the bed as he paced past, toward his walk-in closet. “Time for my run, babe.”
“You’re going to leave me here alone with him?”
He turned on the light to locate a fresh shirt. He also pocketed one of the small full-spectrum flashlights he kept stashed here. These were a required night-time precaution for more reasons than being able to see.
The indignant words didn’t register until he reached for his shoes. With him? Which him? The only “him” he could think of in his suite at this time of day was Garrett. His uncle didn’t much respect anyone’s privacy, especially where clandestine Foundation business was concerned.
But Garrett wasn’t in the house. Garrett wasn’t even in the country. Or had he returned without telling anyone?
Shoes in hand, Jackson emerged into the bedroom, ready for an argument. After the bright light in the closet, the room—lit only by the soft flicker of a gas fireplace—was filled with pockets of obscurity. The bed was clear enough, though. Instead of lounging provocatively as she had earlier, Avery sat with the satin sheets drawn up over her breasts. Haughty displeasure radiated off her. Beside the bed, the balcony door stood ajar, letting in cool night air. His flesh tingled with the chill of premonition. “Leave you alone with who?”
She jerked her chin at the far corner of the room. “He says you know him.”
Jackson peered into the shadows where an occasional chair contained another, perfectly still shadow.
He dropped the shoes and reached for the flashlight in his pocket. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked, twisting the burgeoning fear into outrage. “Avery, you need to go. Now.”
Avery hesitated only a moment before scooting off the bed. With the sheet trailing behind her, she collected her clothes from the floor.
The vampire in the corner stirred. Firelight edged the acute cheekbones and long nose in gold and glinted in the unruly black hair. His attention was riveted on Avery.
“Hurry up,” Jackson said. He had to get her out of there before Nick decided to show off his feeding skills again. Fuck, they couldn’t afford another human caught up in Foundation business.
“I’m going, I’m going. Chill.”
“You should feed her better before you breed her,” the obstinate French bastard of a vampire drawled. “She is far too skinny to carry a plate of food, much less a child.”
Avery spun on a heel. “Excuse me?”
“Go.” When she didn’t move, indignation flashing in her eyes, Jackson grabbed her arm and propelled her into the hallway toward the suite’s door.
She dug in her heels. “Hey! Let go of me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Sorry. I’ll explain later, I promise. But go. Please, just go.” While she still could.
“You better,” she huffed. With one last irate look at both of them, she tossed the sheet to the ground and marched away, wearing nothing but an armful of clothes. From behind, she looked to be all of fifteen years old.
“Will you explain? Truly?” the vampire mocked.
“Shut the fuck up and get out.” Jackson jerked a thumb towards the balcony door. “Right now.”
“Or what? You’re going to annoy me with your little light?”
His hand closed around the flashlight in his pocket. It was a decent enough defense, if used without warning, but Nick was right. To a bloodsucker who knew what it was, the burning sting would only be a momentary nuisance, because a moment is all it would take to kill whoever pointed it at him. Jackson didn’t pull out the weapon, but he kept a firm grip on it. “Oh, I’ve got much bigger things planned for you.”
“Oh, I know.”
The bland acknowledgment confused Jackson for a moment. Head games again? Well, at least Jackson still had entertainment value. Good. The longer he could keep the vampire interested, the more opportunity Jackson had to finish him.
“So, what’s your game tonight?” Jackson prodded. “How are you planning to scare the shit out of me this time?” When there was no response, he charged ahead. “You’ve got to know that showing me you can get around our defenses is only going to make us lock them down that much harder.” Assuming this creature wouldn’t just slaughter everyone in the house tonight. He quickly shoved aside this thought, along with the fear that came with it.
“I didn’t ‘get around’ your defenses, toi idiot. I hacked them.”
Jackson scoffed. “Riiight. This system isn’t even on the Internet.”
A smile ghosted across the vampire’s face. “But your phone is, non?”
He glanced at the device sitting on the nightstand and felt his insides turn over. The security app tied into the primary system via local Wi-Fi, and, yes, damn him, of course the phone was on the Internet.
“You hacked…my phone.” How the fuck had he missed this possibility? “Okay. You made your point. Yes, you can feed without killing if you want to. Congratulations.” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “And, yes, you can break into my house. You’re one badass vamp. Is that what you want from me? You got it. Now go.”
Nick leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, and regarded Jackson with an expression of serious thought. More of him was now visible in the warm light, which made him look so deceptively human. He wore a simple black, long-sleeved V-neck shirt with jeans and scuffed running shoes. No leathers, no swords, no attitude. Nothing about him telegraphed a threat.
Jackson knew better. His grip on the little flashlight in his pocket tightened.
“I assure you I no more want to be here than you want me to be here, but I am out of options. I—” He shook his head as if in disbelief at what he was about to say. “I need…your help.”
Jackson grinned. Damn, this fucker was good. “Decided to call it quits?”
Nick blinked. “What?”
“Because you know that the only thing I’ll ever help you with is turning you into a pile of ash.”
The future pile of ash got up and took several slow steps in Jackson’s direction, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his pants. “Tell me something. The book you gave Cassidy. It implies that if one of us is destroyed, so are all those they made and all those made by them and so on. Is this true? Have you seen this happen?”
An actual conversation? Was this guy for real? “Oh, it’s true all right. Uncle Garrett has seen it happen.”
Nick seemed to consider this. He rubbed his jaw, murmured something in French, and nodded. “D’accord. So be it.” Meeting Jackson’s gaze, he said, “Hunter, I give you my sire. You do with him—with us—as you wish.”
For one breathless moment, Jackson believed him. Then he laughed. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d fall for that. Whatever game you’re playing now, I won’t be a part of it.”
“This is no game.” A note of frustration edged Nick’s voice.
“Then why would you make such an offer?”
“For the only reason I have done anything since the night she appeared in my lair—Cassidy.”
“You’re not seriously telling me this is her idea.”
Suddenly, the vampire was within touching distance. Impatience drew his sweeping brows together over his knife-blade nose. Too startled to think, Jackson whipped out the flashlight and beamed it at Nick’s face. For a fraction of a second, the vampire’s features flashed a luminous white.
Then Jackson’s arm jerked back, his entire body spun on its axis, and his front slammed into the nearest wall with enough force to spill the air from his lungs. He fought for breath, only dimly aware of the screaming ligaments in his shoulder—and the bloodsucking menace crushing him in place.
A resonant growl at his ear. “Did I not say I find that annoying?”
“Get. Off. Me.”
The bloodsucker ran his tongue up the side of Jackson’s neck, triggering a slew of horrific memories and a fresh flood of terror-induced fury. Jackson slammed his free fist into the wall and thrashed between it and the vampire. He tried to scream for help, but his burning lungs scarcely managed a hoarse wheeze. Not that anyone could have helped him. At least not in time. Come morning, they would find him like his brother, drained and dismembered.
“I should just pierce your vein, drench you with serum, and compel you senseless,” the vampire said against Jackson’s pulsing jugular.
Fighting to subdue the flashbacks, Jackson tried to ready himself for the attack. Physically, he lost this fight before it ever began, but mentally, there was still a lot he could do to ward off a compulsion, even if backed up with a dose of serum. Or so he hoped. It wasn’t like he had much opportunity to practice that.
But instead of chomping on him, Nick spoke again, sounding weary. “Did you ever love her?”
It took Jackson a moment to focus on the words. Her…Cassidy. Of course, he loved her. And he would continue to do so for as long as there was breath in his body, which at the moment was precious little. Not that he was about to share that with a vampire fishing for an emotional response.
“What’s it to you?” he croaked.
“Right now? Everything.”
With that, Jackson was free and staggered off the wall. He caught his footing and gingerly tested his abused arm. Sore, but not broken.
His assailant stood halfway across the room again, thumbs back in his pockets. “My sire has found me, and I was foolish enough to think I could reason with him. I was even more foolish to allow Cassidy into his presence. He took her.”
Jackson’s every nerve thrilled with reluctant alarm. If he was being manipulated, he was being played by a master. But until he knew Cassidy was safe, he couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility that the vampire was telling the truth. He finally managed to draw a full breath again. “Took her? Why?”
“To control me. She is interesting to him only until I either submit or flee. Then she will be dead.”
Or worse, Jackson amended to himself and flexed his aching shoulder. “So why don’t you run?”
“Did you miss the part where I said she would die?”
“No, I got that.” He cleared his throat forcefully, hating the still somewhat strangled sound of his voice. “What I don’t get is why you would care. She’s human. We’re expendable in your world, aren’t we? God knows enough of my family has been.”
Nick searched his face. “Not to all of us. Not all of them.”
Something about the raw, haunted tone caught Jackson off-guard, and it wasn’t a compulsion. “My God. You really are in love with her.”
Nick’s silence was all the confirmation he needed—and sparked a whole new kind of animosity. It was one thing to think that Nick spirited Cassidy away with supernatural charm, quite another to consider that there was a true emotional connection between them. “How’s that even possible?”
A thin smile curved Nick’s wide mouth. “You never fail to underestimate me, do you?”
“Fuck you.”
His expression darkened. “We can discuss this some other night if you wish, but right now I need to know if you will help me locate and rescue Cassidy.”
Some other night? Right. If the offer was genuine, Nick wouldn’t have too many more of those. “I thought you knew where she is.”
“She is on a yacht, the Apokryphos, which is somewhere offshore.”
“A yacht. Offshore,” Jackson repeated. That made sense, given what they already knew about Nick’s sire and his sea-going habits, but also complicated things exponentially.
“Oui. At some point, Apokryphos will return, or I will be contacted, but I don’t want to give him that much time with Cassidy. I need to get her free of him, but this vessel is as adept at hiding as her master. I have no way of locating them quickly on my own, and even if I did, I could only approach them at night.”
“Which means you’d be picking a fight you can’t win.”
Nick closed his eyes and hung his head in unspoken agreement. They ran his vamp DNA when they had him captive this summer—before Cassidy risked her life breaking him out. There was a good reason he was such a dominant youngling. His sire was no garden-variety bloodsucker.
Jackson scratched at his chin, trying to look more casual than he felt about having an actual conversation with a creature he was sworn to kill. Unbelievable that he considered agreeing to this. Besides the chance to charge to Cassidy’s rescue, the opportunity to take out an ancient one, along with all his spawn, only came along once every couple of centuries, if that. He couldn’t afford to ignore this.
If he wasn’t being played.
He tried not to smile as he touched the small St. Christopher medallions at his throat. He, too, knew how to play games.
“All right. You have my attention. Let’s talk.”