Charity Received (31 page)

Charity glanced nervously at Remy. Her mother might have broken her spirit, but she’d never managed to invade her mind. And here was Remy, asking permission for the only thing she’d managed to protect.

Kash’s hold turned gentle as he cradled her in his arms. She rubbed her face against the cotton of his shirt, the action bringing comfort as his scent enveloped her. “All right,” she mumbled.

It began like a tickle in the back of the throat that couldn’t be coughed away. Not painful, but annoying as shit. Within minutes, like a movie playing behind her eyes, the scene unfolded. She was serving drinks to two males at Club Dominus. It was an obscure memory that had stuck out for one reason only: one of the males was oddly dressed, his Gucci clothing a beacon amid a room full of black-leather-clad Goths.

That, and his companion had been
hot.

“Raym,” Remy snarled, giving hottie a name.

Of course, he would be Mr. Superbad. All that dark-haired yumminess surrounding the most amazing teal-colored eyes.

“You so did not just say that.”

Shrugging, Charity hadn’t realized she’d spoken her thought, but when she met Kash’s gaze, she was relieved to see the faint trace of humor lingering within it.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she paused, her lips millimeters from his, and whispered, “He was. But you’re way hotter.”

With a snort, Kash slid his hands down to cup her ass, fitting her hips tightly against his own as he captured her lips in a searing kiss. What that kiss could have turned into if not for the taste of ash that burst across her tongue, causing the bile to rise. Pulling away from him with a hand clasped over her mouth, she scanned the room, frantically looking for the bathroom.

“Shit.” Kash grabbed her hand and tugged her through the archway that led to Levi’s residence.

Jet watched the pair uncertainly, his mouth agape. “What just happened?”

“My best guess would be morning sickness,” Remy replied with a trace of amusement. He was glad to see something rattle the stoic, unflappable Jet.

“It’s not morning.” Jet looked at him, a frown marring his features. “And what the hell is morning sickness?”

Remy shrugged. “Some pregnant women get it. Changes in hormones and such.” He smiled faintly as he recalled his own experience with his mate. “Dara had it most of her pregnancy.”

Jet shook his head in amazement. “Why would they want to do that to themselves?”

“Apparently you have forgotten what sex feels like.”

Jet glared at Remy. “What you have apparently forgotten is that there are ways to prevent that.” He waved an arm toward the archway and the closest bathroom.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Remy murmured quietly, rising slowly to his feet. For just a brief second, he thought he saw regret flash in Jet’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly to confirm. And Jet had such tight control over his thoughts and emotions, it was almost impossible for Remy to gauge them. He still could, if he were willing to rip through Jet’s mind. Shaking his head sadly, Remy just walked away. He’d gone down that road once before with another, and it had almost destroyed them both.

Making his way through the residence, Remy headed toward his tower. His mind was a jumble of information, all of which made no sense to him. He needed to write it all down. For some reason, getting it out into written form let him take the pieces and arrange them into a pattern he otherwise might have missed.

In his gut, he believed Raym had an agenda that involved more than just the Grigori. He wasn’t certain what it might be, but he was beginning to have suspicions. It had all started with Faith. At the time of Faith’s kidnapping, it had seemed to revolve solely around Bale’s mate. Now Raym appeared to be broadening his scope. What if it had never been about any one particular mate? What if any mate would do? If that was the case, it had never been about revenge or the brotherhood. Maybe what they needed to concentrate on was what archdemon Beelzebub had intended to do with Faith. Maybe within there lay the answer.

It had been obsessed over for weeks, Trent O’Malley’s dying words, to the point where Charity wanted to scream. Meetings on top of meetings, with no light at the end of the tunnel, threatened to stifle her. She’d been forced to remain in lockdown while the brethren hunted for Raym and the warlock. The confinement was slowly driving her over the brink.

Once again she found herself in the library, suffering through another damn meeting and listening to the same questions being asked. Sitting still was difficult, and she fidgeted about constantly, Kash’s hand massaging the back of her neck doing little to settle her.

“‘A mate with all honor.’ What is the son of a bitch up to?” Bale growled, having taken a special interest in Trent O’Malley’s words. It was completely understandable, really. Faith had been Raym’s first victim—at least as far as they were aware.

“I think we need to concentrate on why Faith was taken. Her kidnapping is linked to these wolf attacks somehow.”

At Remy’s words, everyone turned to Faith, as if the vampire could somehow produce the answers they needed, and Faith immediately tensed. Charity felt for her. Apparently her abduction had been truly horrific, and she still suffered from the trauma. But at least she’d survived.

“Then why haven’t they come after Charity?” Bale demanded, all attention drawn now to her.

The hand on the back of her neck tightened as agitation flowed from Kash. He feared for her safety, and that was the only reason she hadn’t protested her confinement too strongly. But she knew he sensed it was going to need to come to an end. Charity leaned into his side, hoping to calm her mate’s fraying nerves by her presence alone. When that seemed to have little effect, she stroked the mark she’d left on his neck. A shudder traveled down his spine, and with it some of the tension slowly eased.

“It was more than a year ago that Sasquatch saw Raym. He couldn’t have known she was Kash’s mate,” Zeke injected from his perch on the edge of the desk.

“But he’s had plenty of opportunity since then, given the number of times Charity has fled this abbey,” Bale pointed out.

“Maybe it’s time to draw Raym out.” For the first time since these meetings had begun, Levi quietly stated his opinion, and Charity wondered if he’d had a dream.

She suspected that unlike the other brothers, Levi could not control his ability by will and that the visions constantly bombarded him. Lately he’d appeared weary, as if he wasn’t sleeping well, but she hadn’t connected the two until now.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Zeke demanded.

Levi’s gaze fell on her, and Kash growled softly. “No way in hell. You are not using my mate as bait.”

“It might be the only way, Kash. Raym has already decided Faith is of no use to him.”

“No. No way.” Kash turned from Levi to Remy. “I will not allow my mate—my
pregnant
mate—to be put in such a position.”

“She’ll be protected, Kash,” was Remy’s quiet response.

Kash firmly shook his head. “Excuse me if I don’t exactly accept your assurances.

How can you seriously consider putting her in such danger? She carries the first child to be conceived in twelve thousand years. I will not risk it. I can’t.”

Remy opened his mouth to speak, but Charity interrupted whatever he planned to say. “Kash, please,” she said quietly. “I can’t remain trapped behind these walls any longer.”

“I know that, chérie. I can feel what it has cost you. But that doesn’t mean you must place yourself at Raym’s mercy.”

“I have no intention of letting Raym anywhere near me. I want to go to work, Kash.

I need to get out of this abbey, do something useful. If that means helping you catch Raym, I’m all for it. I won’t be in any danger. You’ll protect me. I know that.”

Kash cupped her cheek and stared intently into her eyes. For what felt like hours but in reality was only minutes, he seemed to be searching for something. When, with a sigh, he finally let his hand drop from her face, Charity wasn’t sure what he’d found studying her.

“You will take no chances. You will not leave my sight.”

Surprised by how easily he’d acquiesced, she nodded.

“No. Promise me, Charity. I want to hear you say it.”

“I promise, Kash.”

He studied her for a moment longer before nodding slowly. Then he turned to Remy.

“Charity will be kept under surveillance at all times. The warlock will not be given a chance to harm her.”

“I’ll remain with her,” Penny said, speaking up in one of the meetings for the first time that Charity could recall.

No,” Remy said, and Charity thought Penny might argue, but she only scowled at Remy. “Penny, if Raym does show and somehow gets away from us, you might be our only way of tracking him because of the bond you two share. Bale will obviously remain with Faith, as will Arak.” At Kash’s skeptical look, he quickly added, “Just as a precaution. Jet and Arak’s sole responsibilities will be to keep an eye on the females. It will appear more natural if you and Bale do what you normally do when your mates are working. The rest of us will take positions within the club and monitor points of entry while keeping tabs on both Charity and Faith as well as the crowd.”

“Exactly what is our objective here?” Arak asked.

“Do you even need to ask?” Bale pinned Arak with a glare. “We find Raym and terminate him.”

“Yeah. I think I got that, Bale.” With a roll of his eyes, Arak turned his attention to Remy. “What of the warlock?”

Silently Remy glanced around the room and eyed each member before he answered.

“Raym should not be allowed to live. Our main objective is to stop him. As for the warlock, capturing him would be preferable. I want answers, and he is our only available source. I don’t want him to escape. O’Malley will need the assurance that his brother has been avenged.”

Remy stood, signaling the end of the meeting. As Kash led her from the room, the last thing Charity heard were the words Remy softly spoke to Jet. “Remember, the child is the most important thing. If anything happens to either Charity or her baby, I will hold you responsible, Jet.”

The entire time Kash dragged her across the bailey and up the two flights of stairs to their bedroom, Charity felt an urgency in him that would not abate. Even after stripping off her clothes, pushing her facedown on the bed, and making love to her until the overload of pleasure left her weak, still the anxiety in him did not ease.

She figured it wouldn’t—not until Raym was stopped.

* * *

The tension filling the club had Charity on edge. They hadn’t even opened yet and already the brethren were breathing down her neck. Smoothing the baby-doll top over her expanding stomach, she slipped behind the bar to get away from her protective detail. When she had dressed for work that evening, she’d discovered there wasn’t a chance in hell of getting her usual attire over her middle. That she was showing now weighed heavily on Kash. He feared it would only entice Raym, but to Charity’s way of thinking, six months had gone by since Raym had tried to harm Faith, with no further sightings of the fallen brother. The likelihood of him turning his attention toward her just didn’t seem a possibility.

Charity went to work helping Lia, the witch Faith had hired to replace Prue, set up the wells. They’d been working in relative silence, cutting fruit for garnishment, so she was caught off guard when Lia glanced up from slicing limes into thin wedges and nonchalantly asked, “What’s going down?” Her brow arched, Lia tucked a strand of curly black hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Besides Faith’s mate, who is a regular fixture here, I’ve counted at least four more extremely attentive males. And I could cut the tension with a knife.” Then, with the paring knife in her hand, she did just that.

Charity gave a slight smile at the witch’s joke. “Let’s hope nothing.”

“But…” Lia prodded. When Charity remained silent, Lia set the knife onto the bar top and turned to her. A frown marred her striking features, and she narrowed her turquoise eyes on Charity. “Don’t leave me in the dark if trouble is brewing, Charity.”

There was something unusual about the witch that Charity couldn’t quite put her finger on. Not that she was an expert when it came to witches. Lia was the first she’d ever met, so she dismissed her gut reaction to the other female, trusting that Bale would not have allowed Faith to hire her if he thought she posed a threat to either of them. Lia probably should have been made aware of what was going on.

If only Prue hadn’t skipped town. This shit would be so much easier to deal with.

Charity sighed. “What do you know of warlocks?”

Lia seemed surprised by her question. “All this”—she waved a hand around the bar

—“we have turned into Fort Knox because one witch sold his or her soul to Lucifer?”

Charity glanced across the club until she found Kash. He was in deep discussion with Remy, probably arguing once again on where Zeke would be stationed during the night. He was uncomfortable having only Jet watching her every move. But add Zeke to the mix and she would be tripping over protective males.

Turning her attention back to Lia, Charity reached for another orange. “Are you aware of the recent animal attacks?”

Lia was silent a moment, studying her, and Charity grew uncomfortable under her probing stare. Returning to her limes, Lia said, “You mean the
werewolf
attacks.”

Surprised, Charity hesitated a moment before she resumed slicing the orange, hoping the witch hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t been aware the truth about the attacks had spread, but then, Lia had been working at Club Dominus for a month. It was quite possible she had learned of them here. “The local alpha has confirmed the wolves—all young males—were under the possession of a warlock.”

“If only males have been targeted, why is your mate concerned about you?”

Charity ran a hand over the gentle swell of her abdomen. “Kash is just being cautious. I can’t shift because of the baby, and that is what this warlock is doing—

forcing these males to remain as wolves.”