Page 99 of White Raven
Nothing but the sound of silence in the trunk of her jade green rental. Ryan puffed on a cigarette with the icy air whipping through the car as she smirked at the ‘no smoking’ sticker on the dash. They were only a couple of hours into the nearly eight-hour trek south, on I-90. Kane was strong. But…snapping his neck would still keep him down for several more hours, if not a full day. There were ways to kill vampires, but that wasn’t one of them. Well—technically speaking, hewasdead. But he wouldn’t stay that way. And odds were, when he finally did wake up, the ways that onedideffectively kill vampires, would be executed in careful precision by this unfairly attractive man.
She didn’t enjoy this. In truth, she felt pity for both Athan Kane, and Sarah St. James. They were simply reeled in from the same fucked up pond that she was—and with a much more daunting purpose. It would never matter how stunning she thought they were, or how much she admired…and maybe envied…their bond. The one thing her master never allowed her to forget wastheir story. And once, told…no one else would soon forget it either. The thing about stories, though…
Every individual has their own tendencies. When some devour a story, they go in blind. Some like it spoiled. Some prefer to pick apart every little detail. Some even read the last page before they begin the first line. Others like to take it one chapter at a time. Ryan? She was a sucker for trying to figure out the ending, all the while refusing to spoil it for herself, if for no other reason than to prove she was right. So this, unfortunately, was far less entertaining. She already knew their ending. Shesupposed the only mystery left to solve was how her own story would end when they figured out the truth.
Images of pink hair, and facial piercings flittered through her mind, and for much of the drive, she wondered if Leigh had already spotted the single red rose she’d left in her car when she snuck over to watch her at the tattoo shop. It took every ounce of her not to join her in the back alley when she’d taken a cigarette break. Something about that girl had seasoned her with unfamiliar longing, and there was no stifling it. After taking the risk of calling her from Seattle, Ryan was almost positive that Leigh would tell pretty Detective Northwood that she was somewhere in town. Rhaena would connect her to Athan Kane’s disappearance, and the hunt would be on for the culprit. Based on what Leigh thought she knew, they’d probably be making a break for the west coast.
However…Rhaena Northwood was a force to be reckoned with. It was sad that even Rhaena, herself, didn’t even know where that force came from—yet. But she would. And this test of her strengths to get her partner back—and Sarah’s determination to save the love of her life—was going to prove interesting.
Dawn was creeping in as she drove into town. Almost four-hundred miles between where she started, and where they now were. Pulling into an abandoned parking structure that looked every bit as if it would collapse, she fetched her burner phone and dialed a number.
“You’re late. Sun’s almost up. Unlike you, we’ve got to find somewhere to hide out.”
“I never took you for a guy that didn’t appreciate a challenge, Ansel.” She stepped out of the car, popping the trunk, and checking in on Kane, who was still lifeless and pale, his head at a truly sickening angle, and dark bruising beginning to takefrom his collar bone, well up to his earlobe. It was a nasty break, and she felt horrible about it.
“You can’t be fucking serious, Ryan. We’ve got less than an hour to get this done, or me and Quinn go up in flames. You were supposed to be here already.”
“I had to stop and get marshmallows to roast. Sue me.”
“Har-har, bitch. I’m being serious.”
“Ansel, he’s not gonna keep for the whole day. He’s too strong. I didn’t drive all this way for him to wake up in the trunk, and then kill us all.”
“Well, lucky for you, we’ve already moved the stone off. Figured it was a smart decision since you still haven’t figured out how to use a gas pedal.”
“You mean lucky foryou?”
“You’re wasting time. Get over here and bring me my marshmallows.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot. Bye.”
Ten minutes later, she watched the men unload Kane from the trunk. The weight of all the carefully laid plans coming to fruition didn’t excite her as much as she initially believed it would. The envelope she’d snatched from him lay open in the passenger seat of the car. They were way too fucking close. Guilt started to gnaw at her, and it was an unfamiliar emotion. One that she probably wouldn’t have had if she hadn’t softened up to a spunky young thing with hair the color of an Easter egg. Quinn handled Athan’s shoulders, while Ansel took his legs. Sarah’s handsome beau’s heavily tattooed arms hung from his sides, and his immaculate face rested against the crook of his shoulder as they carried him over to the waiting hole in a very public spot. The sound of fluttering wings startled her, right before a large raven landed on her left shoulder, and Ryan jumped.
“Christ, bird,” she exhaled, shaking her head.
“What is that fucking smell?” Ansel bitched, drawing his face in disgust.
Ryan’s heels clacked against the concrete as she stepped closer to the monument, peering down at the darkness. “That…is the smell of good, old-fashioned lies, and deception. Hurry up. You’ve got twenty minutes until you’re barbecue.” Kane’s lost pet ruffled his feathers and danced in frustration at the state of his former companion. Ryan stroked his breast. “Calm down. He’s not gone forever.”
Quinn helped lower Kane’s body into the hole, the finest example of the male species disappearing into darkness before the loud thud of centuries-old wood clanged shut. Both her comrades glanced at the lightening sky as tendrils of dawn began to turn it from the darkest navy, to marbled deep gray and cerulean. “Hurry up, dude,” Ansel urged, rushing to the end of the heavy stone they’d moved. Quinn joined him on the opposite end, and they situated it over the grave, sealing it with a tube of ready-mixed concrete, and smoothing it into the cracks.
“Hey!” A loud voice called out from across the street. A flashlight shined, blinding them all before the outline of a man in uniform appeared behind it. “What the hell are you doing?!”
Poe flew off, and Quinn’s startled curses matched Ansel’s before they darted their heads towards the sky, no doubt trying to determine just how quick they’d need to be to outrun the cop,andthe sunlight.
Amateurs.
“Get outta here,” she spat, waving them off. “I’ve got this.”
“When Athan Kane proved to be the sword that struck down the queen, the only surprise after watching him for so long was that my own daughter wielded the sword.”
She’d missed the water pressure in this shower. Scalding water ran down her body, and John Allan’s words rang out in her clouded mind. She missed those days with Athan more. The days when they first started figuring each other out. The days that they spent putting these cracks in the tile of the shower she was now occupying. Her finger trailed over those cracks, and she smiled to herself as she reflected back to the moment he’d been too blinded with the satisfaction of his need for her, that he didn’t consider his inhuman strength as he’d slammed her against the wall.
God, he’d claimed her so completely. There was always an unfamiliar lilt to his voice when he was lost inside her body. It was as if that old-world part of him broke out when his cock branded her from the inside out. A slight accent that had her legs shaking…especially when that accent promised to‘rip her tight cunt to shreds’. And he had. After that night at the cabin, it was like the floodgates opened, and he poured himself out completely. He told her everything…gave hereverything. Every sinful part of himself that he spent half his eternity being ashamed of. So many years he had been collected, and tortured, damning himself for something that had never been in his control.
How could she not have wielded the sword? How could she not have helped him lock the Devil back in Hell? He had suffered so much. They all had. The coven deserved to be free. After meeting Decclan…Tony…even Devin, and his lively disregard for basic manners. Maybe John was right. While she hadn’t been a member of the coven, she was most of the reason they were free. She never wanted to be part of them, she only wanted to help. But John had stolen the crown from Dahlia’sinflated head, andnow…now he was forcing her to come and claim it. A birthright. A fuckingcurse.
And he was using the one she loved to do it.
