Touch of Evil Read online

  -Eve

  “Like there’s any fear of that.”

  Brie’s voice echoed in the empty bathroom as she refolded the letter. She wiped the tears that had slipped down her cheeks unnoticed with the side of her hand and took a deep breath. Eve’s words repeated in her head as she looked around the bathroom and she started to feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Freedom. She had taken it for granted for so long, only to have it ripped away by the man that said he loved her.

  Right here and now—in a tiny, unkempt bathroom with chipped tile, cracked linoleum and a tilted, leaky sink—her sense of freedom returned so fast, so sudden, that it left her breathless. A giggle slid up her throat and out her mouth to echo in the small space, surprising her. It sounded so carefree, so pure, that she did it again. Then again, until she was laughing so hard she was clutching her sides and gasping for breath to try to contain herself.

  “Hey, what the hell are you doing in there?” Mark’s gruff voice followed the loud thuds of his fist against the door. “Your boyfriend in there wants his key back.”

  Brie straightened, still fighting to control herself, and quickly refolded the note. She wiped her cheeks again and tried to contain her giggles before she pulled open the door. When she looked up at Mark, his annoyed scowl sent her into another peal of laughter.

  Mark stared down at her while she snorted and chortled, wondering if she had flushed her mind down the toilet while she was in there.

  Somehow Brianne managed to get herself together enough to flash him a bright smile. Then, on impulse and before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed up on her toes and brushed her lips across his unshaven cheek.

  “Ready when you are, Mr. Lynch.” She walked away from him.

  Mark turned to watch her go, appreciating the way her clothes molded to her slender form and the firm shape of her ass in her jeans. Suddenly needing a second to put a lid on his raging hormones, not to mention his stampeding heart, he pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. He took a deep drag, staring down at the broken asphalt of the parking lot and tried to think about anything but her. Unfortunately, his mind kept pushing aside the map of known vampire’s nests he was trying to remember and putting the picture of Brie’s face, bright and smiling, to the forefront.

  That smile had taken his breath away. It was so different from the chilly aloofness she had been hiding behind since she woke up. It made her look incredibly young and innocent, yet sexy as hell. The kiss—while as chaste as a kiss could be—was soft and warm and even more unexpected than the smile. It had numbed his brain, while the feel of her lips against his skin had started a fire raging in his blood.

  “Are you coming?”

  He groaned inwardly at her innocent question, the alternate implications of what she said sending vivid pictures ping-ponging around inside his head. He practically whimpered with the insistent need for her that he’d had since seeing her picture. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it out. Then, by sheer force of will, he started towards the car, plagued by the images of how he could make her come, writhing and screaming his name. The result of this torture on his body had his gait stiff and his temper short.

  “Get in,” he growled, sliding into the driver’s side and slamming the door.

  Brie, not allowing his dark mood to bring her down, climbed in. She flashed him another smile, buckled her seat belt and settled in, humming softly to herself.

  At Mark’s sharp look, she sighed and leveled him with her unusual eyes. “Don’t worry, Mr. Lynch. My humming won’t hurt you. Intent is more of a factor in my people’s songs than anything. I have to want to affect you for it to work.”

  Mark looked unconvinced, but he didn’t say anything when she started to hum again. Instead, he turned the key in the ignition and pulled out into traffic. To her surprise, he didn’t reach for his cigarettes. In fact, he seemed to be clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. She debated asking him what was wrong, but thought twice when she saw the look on his face. She was too happy to get her head bitten off, so she went back to looking out the window and humming softly under breath.

  Mark felt like he was stretched tight across a rack, his muscles taut with tension. He couldn’t relax, even after a few minutes, and he realized that she was telling the truth. The sound of her silky, warm brandy voice affected him all right, even if it wasn’t her intent. It just wasn’t affecting him in the way that he might have expected.

  “Would you stop. Turn on the radio if you need noise,” he practically snarled, shifting in his seat to try to relieve the pressure against his zipper. He was suddenly wishing that they had turned Eve down. He wasn’t sure how much of this he could take before he made a fool out of himself. Thank God Ash would show up tonight, by morning at the latest, and he could wash his hands of this whole thing.

  Brie’s smile faltered at his harsh words, but not for long. “Whatever you say, Mr. Lynch.”

  Her cheerful voice grated across his raw nerves, making his fingers tighten on the hard plastic of the steering wheel. He imagined pulling over, dragging her into his lap and devouring that sweet mouth until she was as cranky and frustrated as he was.

  How he managed to keep his hands on the wheel and the car on the road had to be a testament to his steel will. Of course, if his dick had any say in the matter, they would have pulled over hours ago. Good thing he wasn’t one of those guys that followed his dick around.

  He forgot all about his frustration, discomfort and general foul mood when he realized that his turn was coming up. Pushing everything away, his face became a stoic mask of concentration as he took a right off the main highway onto a narrow, unpaved road. They found themselves plunged in the absolute seclusion of the trees on either side of them. Any noise here seemed like an affront to the tomblike feeling that dropped over the car.

  Brie turned off the radio, the ridiculous thought that Kid Rock and Sheryl Crowe might somehow disturb the balance around them unnerving her.

  Mark hated—hated—making this drive. He had only been here twice. Once with Cyrus to get some information on a master vampire that they had been hunting, and the second time, when his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had come up here alone. Both times he had entered the canopy that darkened the dirt road to near night blackness, the short hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and every instinct told him to get away. It almost felt as if eyes were staring at him from the woods, trying to decide if he was friend or foe.

  So far, they must have decided he was safe, because he had never encountered anything more frightening than his own imagination. And, with all the things he had seen in his life, that imagination could work overtime.

  Nerves were twisting icily in Brianne’s stomach with each passing second. She could see no end to the tunnel and when she glanced behind them, she was stunned that she couldn’t see the exit to the main road. It didn’t seem like they had gone that far. It was like they were completely swallowed by the trees and she was sure that her imagination was what made it seem like they were slowly closing in. Just as she opened her mouth to break the oppressive silence and ask how much longer until they reached their destination, the car lurched into a clearing that was nearly as dark as the tunnel. To her amazement, a log cabin was nestled in the middle of it, as if it had grown out of the very ground it sat upon.

  She blinked in surprise as they came to a stop. Another glance behind them showed a thick forest of trees, with no indication that there was a road at all. She turned to gape at Mark, who looked like he was as unnerved as she. He looked over at her and actually smiled.

  “It’s … a security system,” was all that he offered before sliding out of the car and leaving her sitting dumbstruck in the car.

  Chapter Nine

  Security, indeed, Brie thought, staring out the car window in wonder. There seemed to be no signs of life inside the cabin, other than the lights. Nobody came out to greet them and nobody peered out from behind the curtai
ns. They were alone. She didn’t know how to feel about that, and the thick ceiling of trees overhead didn’t help her nervousness. She suddenly felt like Red Riding Hood at Grandma’s door, and the wolf was on the other side waiting to show her what big teeth he had. An involuntary shudder passed through her and she fought it back with an uneasy laugh.

  With a deep breath, she reminded herself that she had lived with creatures from fairy tales everyday for the last half year or so, and was still here to talk about it. She also had a handy dandy bounty hunter of some sort, who, when pissed off, looked like he could scare King Kong.

  Keeping that in mind, Brie slid out of the car and joined Mark at the trunk in time for him to slam it closed.

  “Grab my duster out of the back,” he said. “Then come on.”

  Normally, she would have snapped at him for ordering her around, but this place made her nervous enough to let it go. He headed toward the house, while she retrieved the leather and, in afterthought, his carton of cigarettes. He was already inside when she reached the porch, so she followed without waiting for an invitation. And gasped in surprise.

  Whatever she had been expecting of the cabin, it certainly wasn’t the clean, tastefully furnished interior. An open kitchen stood to her left, a small dining table acting as the break between living room and kitchen. A glass vase sat on the table’s surface, a beautiful spray of wild flowers tumbling out of it. In fact, there were flowers everywhere. Their scent perfumed the air, the normalcy of it relieving some of her anxiety.

  Brie scanned the living room, taking in the rustic couch and chairs, the rough bark of their frames fitting in perfectly with the rest of the place. The cushions were muted, neutral colors and looked comfortable enough to curl up on for a nap. A coffee table, made in the same design, was centered in front of the couch. Beautiful prints of lakes and clearings adorned the walls, and a bookcase took up most of the wall next to a short hallway. She heard Mark banging around in the kitchen, but ignored him to inspect the rest of the place. She threw the duster and his cigarettes into a chair and headed down the hall, peering into the first open door.

  It was a small bathroom, decorated in muted blues and grays. Pleased, she moved onto the next open door. A bedroom. A large bed sat in the middle, its mattress covered with a lovely, handmade quilt. She sighed when she saw the fireplace with its stone hearth, and had an image of lying there in front of it on large pillows, reading a book. A quick, cursory inspection of the closet and drawers told her that a man lived here. She turned toward the door, and jumped when she saw Mark.

  “This place is beautiful,” she said as he dropped their bags on the floor.

  Mark nodded and shrugged, looking around. “Yeah. Seth likes nice things.”

  “Who’s Seth?”

  A look passed over his face, one that wasn’t particularly pleasant. She frowned and almost asked him what was wrong. Then the look was gone and that unreadable mask was back, successfully shutting her out.

  “The owner,” he answered simply, walking back out.

  With a sigh, Brianne followed, pausing at the closed door across the hall. She pondered for exactly two seconds whether or not to open it. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached for the knob. When it swung open, her eyes widened in horror

  A ten by ten cage was bolted into the wall, heavy chains and manacles dangling from the bars. A long, nasty looking gun hung on an open rack by the door, and massive scratch marks were gouged into the floor. She stood gaping, the implications of it all slamming into her with frightening speed.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mark asked from the door, jolting her. He had a cigarette in his hand and it smoldered slowly where it rested on the doorframe.

  “What is this?” she demanded, already knowing but needing his confirmation.

  His black gaze traced over the cage, the unpleasant look from the bedroom back on his handsome face. His eyes were hard when he looked back at her.

  “This,” he said, waving the hand holding his cigarette toward the cage, “is for company.” He walked away without further explanation.

  Brie stood shocked for a beat, and then was on his heels. She opened her mouth to demand his meaning, when alarms went off in her head and a distinct tingle started at the base of her neck. No, her mind screamed. The sudden thought that Mark might not be what he said he was and this was all a trap coincided with the feelings she only got when Edward or Sebastian were near. A warning system. The same warning system all other worldly creatures had to alert them of potential danger.

  Everything in her was tensed to fight when she stepped into the living room, ready to open her mouth and start singing if she had to. She drew up short, when she saw a man she’d never seen before. She had fully been expecting one of Sebastian’s men. But this man was a stranger.

  And the way the two men were looking at each other, she had a feeling they didn’t even realize she was there. The newcomer was average height and stocky, his stance reminding her of a bulldog. Dark red hair curled lightly around a face that seemed youthful and old at the same time. She supposed that he could be considered handsome, but it wasn’t an obvious sort of thing.

  “What is he?” she demanded, not caring that she was being terribly rude. Their lives were in potential danger and social etiquette was the least of her concerns. “Vampire? Werewolf?” Something else, her mind added. Both men turned to look at her then, Mark with a tension exuding from him so thick it was cloying and the newcomer with a mild interest.

  “Worse,” Mark said, turning back to look at the man. “Both.”

  * * * *

  Eve and Sebastian spent the first several minutes after she had been brought to his office staring at each other. To her surprise, she had been fed a rather decent breakfast, then escorted from the basement through the kitchen and down a long hall to the office. Now, they just sat, measuring each other up and trying to see into each other’s heads.

  “I trust your breakfast was satisfactory,” Sebastian finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Why, yes, it was lovely. Have to say though, the accommodations suck and I still haven’t seen the pool that was in the brochure. But room service was fab-u.” Eve tilted her head to the side and gave him a pleasant smile.

  “I apologize for the room. You were sort of unexpected,” Sebastian shot back, playing her game.

  “Oh, I know. Hey, what can you do?” She shrugged a delicate shoulder and leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

  “As entertaining as it is sparring with you, Evelyn, I’m afraid that I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “Aw, that’s too bad. And here I thought we could get a roaring game of Parcheesi going.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. I think you should know, I’m not telling you where Brie is. In fact, I don’t even know where she is, so I’m no help to you.”

  “Oh, but, Evelyn my dear, that’s where you’re wrong. You are a great help to me. You see, I don’t need you to tell me where she is. I already know who has her and it’s only a matter of time before she is found and informed that I have you.”

  “What?” Eve demanded, a cold sliver of fear skating up her spine, followed quickly by anger. Her immediate thought was that Ash had given in. He had told and betrayed her and Brie both.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Evelyn. Mr. Marshall revealed nothing. In fact, I never even questioned him about her. I have special plans for him.”

  She shivered at the way he said that and the malicious glee in his gold eyes. “Then, how did you…”

  “How did I find out? I assure you, my dear. It wasn’t that hard. Money can grease a lot of wheels and fear can finish the rest. There are a few demon hunters in this town. But only one that works with a vampire.” Sebastian reached for a folder on his desk and threw it toward her, spilling the pictures and papers inside. Eve felt her stomach lurch when she saw Cyrus’ picture from the University year book staring up at her.

  “L
eave him alone,” she warned icily. “He’s just an old man.” Her fingers clutched at the arms of her chair, the knuckles turning white.

  “With a young grandson.”

  Horror slammed into her, widening her eyes and making her throat close. Worry for Cyrus warred with worry for Mark and Brie. She wasn’t concerned for herself. Not that she wanted to die, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now. If he was going to kill her, he was going to kill her, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging for her life. Ash’s image popped into her mind, compounding her stress. What had she done? All these people were in danger because of her. The only bright spot was that he hadn’t seemed to have discovered Flora yet, or he didn’t deem her a factor.

  “So, if you don’t need me to find Brie, why am I still alive?”

  “Oh, I might not need you to find her, but I will need you to get her back. Once her location has been discovered, all I will have to do is let her know that I have you.”

  Eve would have liked nothing more than to claw that smug smile off his face. Unfortunately, she was in no position to do so. She silently prayed that Brie would think of herself and run. But, knowing her sister, that wasn’t bound to happen.

  Please, Mark. Keep her safe.

  “So, I guess Ash is already dead.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her anger at Ash forgotten in the light of the very real possibility of his death. Her heart felt like it was going to shatter in her chest, and tears started to gather in her eyes.

  Sebastian watched her face, fascinated by the grief he saw in her eyes and the fear he smelled rolling off of her. Both piqued his natural urges and he could imagine how sweet her blood would taste. “Don’t worry, Evelyn, dear. You will see your vampire soon enough.”

  Relief flooded through her, as well as suspicion. “You kept him alive? Why?”

  “He amuses me,” was the only answer she got. “Did you know that Mr. Marshall used to be quite an accomplished killer? Thousands of victims in no more than half a century.”