Deadlocked (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 3) (3 page)

“You need to understand, Harry. Despite everything, despite
what you think,” he looked over his shoulder at Morris and then took a final
step towards me, grabbing my elbow and leaning in, his voice soft but fierce, “it
was me in charge that night, not the wolf. I did it. I marked you.” He
placed a finger under my chin, tipping my head up to look into my eyes. “I did
it because I need you. I want you.”

I frowned at him, twisting my chin away from his grasp.
“You don’t even like me half the time. You don’t
know
me. It turns out
I
don’t even know me.” I frowned, thinking of the revelation that
Salvador was my father. “Why would you want me?”

“You’re my mate, Harry. I feel it to the very core of my
being. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He grabbed me by the shoulders, his body
rubbing up against mine.

I took a deep breath. His scent was like a drug to me,
overwhelming me and I couldn’t get enough. It was warm and crisp and clean,
like fresh sheets out of the dryer. I blinked, trying to clear my head.

“This is ridiculous; we hardly know each other, even if we
did have sex. You couldn’t possibly know that you want to spend the rest of
your life bound to me.” My voice had risen through my rant and I noticed we
were starting to draw attention from Morris and the boys. I huffed out an
exasperated breath and grabbed Nash by the hand. “Come with me.”

I led him towards the back of the shop to the storeroom. I
waited for the door to close behind him and then opened my mouth to continue
but Nash placed a finger on my lips.

“Come with me on a date.” He smiled mischievously.
“Tonight.”

“A date? Tonight?” I repeated lamely.

Nash smiled and winked at me. “Yeah, a date. You know
those things two people do when they want to get to know one another better.”

“I…okay.” I smiled, suddenly feeling shy.

“Great.” Nash pulled me close and kissed me chastely on the
lips. His eyes widened and I could see a feral hunger there. It made me feel all
warm and tingly inside. He stepped back, a cheeky grin on his face. He could
probably feel the lust coursing through my veins, the bastard. I huffed out a
breath and crossed my arms again. Nash laughed and made a show of looking me
over. “What you’re wearing is fine, but bring some warmer layers for later.”

“Where are we going?” My curiosity was piqued.

“It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He turned
and opened the door to the hall. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.” He
closed the distance between us again and pulled me into another kiss. This
time it wasn’t even close to being chaste. A few minutes later, he left me
panting as he disappeared out the door with a chuckle. Damn that wolf, he was way
too sure of himself.

“I’m still mad at you!” I shouted half-heartedly after his
retreating form, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

I think I was still smiling stupidly when I arrived back
upstairs. Luckily, Isaac was too busy puttering around the kitchen to notice.
It had been several months since Isaac moved in, but I still found it a little
weird to see a vampire in an apron. You usually don’t associate vamps with
homey domesticity, but Isaac loved to cook. He was a real foodie, but his
specialty was dessert. His excessive baking was the whole reason I had decided
to open the coffee shop.

“It smells delicious in here,” I said, walking over to the
island and hopping up onto a stool.

Isaac turned from where he was busy deglazing a roast pan
and nodded his thanks. “I thought I’d make us all a nice, home-cooked meal
tonight.” He turned back to the stove and continued to work his culinary
magic.

“Great idea, Isaac. Is Tess going to be home? I thought
she had a late class.”

“She called to say that it had been canceled and she would
be home by six.” He placed a small plate in front of me laden with warmed
pita, cut into triangles. He followed it with a bowl of hummus, drizzled with
garlic oil. I had already snatched up a pita ready to scoop up a mouthful when
I paused. “Is something wrong, Harry? I thought you liked hummus.” Isaac
looked at me with concern.

“Mmmmm, I do, I do. It’s just…the garlic.” I shrugged,
feeling my face heat up. “I have a date tonight. With Nash,” I added,
sheepishly.

“Oh dear.” Isaac frowned.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Besides the hummus, I have Cornish game hens with
garlic and rosemary in the oven.”

“In that case then,” I said with a smile, scooping a
generous helping of hummus. “In for a penny, in for a pound.” I gave him a
grin and then popped the pita into my mouth. “Mmmmmm, delicious.” Isaac
chuckled and went back to the stove. I munched on a few more mouthfuls and
then slid off my stool and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I waved it at
Isaac, offering him one and then laughed at the face he made. Tess and I had
so far managed to get him to scale down on the formal attire, but he drew the
line at drinking that ‘hoppy swill’, as he called it.

“So Isaac,” I said between mouthfuls, “I didn’t get a chance
to ask you last night, what is the Mariposa?” After Salvador had made his hasty
exit, I had excused myself, needing the peace and quiet of my own bedroom.
Later, when I had emerged from my cocoon of self-pity and the scalding hot bath
I had soaked in until my skin was as wrinkled as a prune, Isaac was nowhere to
be found.

He froze for a split second before continuing his task of
putting a tray of asparagus under the broiler. Whatever the Mariposa was, it had
put both Isaac and Salvador on edge.

“And, while you’re at it,” I added, “maybe you could tell me
why there are vampires watching the building from the roof next door?” I
raised an eyebrow at him.

Isaac stood and stepped away from the oven. He grabbed a
towel from the counter and wiped his hands. He was buying time. I gave him
another pointed look.

“The Mariposa is a person, not a thing,” he finally said,
coming to stand in front of me. “She is better known as
La Mariposa de la Muerte
,
the Butterfly of Death.”

“Charming.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “And I
guess from the way Salvador freaked last night, she’s not a friend?”

“No. I wouldn’t call her that.” Isaac stopped as if
wondering how much to say. “They were once friends, but no more, not for
several hundred years.” He went back to the oven and pulled the asparagus
out.

“So who is this chick? A vampire I guess?”

“Yes, a very powerful vampire. She is an Empress and she
rules all of southern Europe with an iron fist.”

“An Empress? Truly?” Isaac wasn’t talking about a rank for
a sovereign ruler, he was talking about the rank in the power hierarchy of
vampires. An Empress or the male counterpart, Emperor, was the highest rank
there was, the biggest, baddest, scariest they came. I highly suspected that
Salvador ranked as an Emperor, but since I had nothing to compare his power
level to, I wasn’t sure. I did know that he was off the scale on my own
personal supernatural power meter. I thought on that for a moment, chewing my
lip. “And so the date on the other side of the card? It was –”

“The date of her arrival in Riverton,” Isaac said, finishing
my sentence for me.

Our conversation was put on hold when the door flew open and
Tess hurried in. “Am I late?” She threw her stuff down on the bench by the
door and came over to the kitchen. She took a deep breath, sucking in the
delicious aromas. “Mmmm, it smells amazing. I’m glad I didn’t miss anything.”
She scooped a big mouthful of hummus onto a pita and popped it in her mouth.

“No, you didn’t miss anything. Isaac was just telling me about
the Mariposa.”

“Oh good. Do you know why there are vampires on the roof
next door as well?” Tess smirked and pulled herself up onto a stool. “They
aren’t doing the greatest job of being inconspicuous.”

Isaac frowned. “I’ll speak to them.”

I grabbed another pita from the plate before Tess could
scarf the rest down. “I think they’re here to babysit me.” I wrinkled my nose
to show what I thought of that idea.

“Why? Because the Agister-may is your ather-fay?” She
mock-whispered, her hand to her mouth, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

I shrugged and we both turned to look at Isaac. “In part,
but mainly because of the threat that the Mariposa represents, especially if
that information gets out,” he said, giving us a stern look. “You must both keep
it to yourselves until we know how widespread the information has become.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t like I planned on going around
blabbing it to everyone. Tess made a show of zipping her lips and then turning
a key and throwing it away. “Is dinner ready?” she asked.

***

Tess teased me mercilessly about my date with Nash all
through the meal until I punched her in the arm and said she was just jealous
because I was getting some. She had such a hurt look on her face I was
immediately sorry and apologized profusely, even going so far as to promise her
all the butter tarts for herself, the next time Isaac baked some. Isaac’s butter tarts
are sublime, so trust me, it was a huge concession on my part.

Good natured as she is, Tess forgave me quickly and was back
to teasing me when there was a knock on the door. My palms got instantly sweaty.
I had first date jitters! How crazy was that? I mean we had already been
intimate - really, really mind blowingly intimate - several times, but still I
was feeling like I was a teenager going out on her first date.

Tess jumped to her feet and raced to the door, beating me to
it. “Oh, it’s you,” she said with a smile, allowing the door to swing open.

Christina walked in the door. “Sorry to disappoint. Were
you expecting someone else?” She looked at me with a wry grin and I felt
the blush right to the roots of my hair. “Hiya Harry. Good to see you again.”
She gave me a little hug and then went over to Isaac and gave him a peck on the
cheek. I swear if it was possible for Isaac, he would have blushed as well.
It was too cute.

“Hi Christina.” I smiled and then covered my mouth. “I’ve
got to go brush my teeth.”

I dashed upstairs, Tess’s laugh following me, echoing up
through the fire pole hole in the floor. “You’ve already brushed your teeth
Harry – twice!”

“So where are we going?” I asked Nash, giving him a
sideways glance. He was dressed casually, like I was, in jeans and t-shirt.
He had a heavy, brown leather bomber jacket on over top. He was freshly shaven
and I couldn’t decide which I preferred, clean shaven Nash or five o’clock
shadow Nash. They were both sexy as hell.

“You’ll see.” Nash threw me a roguish smile and my insides
did a little flip.

“So, you’re okay with what’s going on between Christina and
Isaac?” I threw him another little glance. It hadn’t been as awkward as I
expected when Nash came to the door to pick me up and found his sister cuddled
up with Isaac on the couch drinking a glass of wine.

“Sure. Whatever.” He shrugged. “She’s a big girl and can
decide for herself.” Huh, if only he gave me that sort of courtesy. I really
didn’t know how much older Christina was than me. I knew she was the second
oldest and that Nash was the youngest, but as with many supernaturals their age
was hard to determine. Nash appeared to be only a few years older than me.

“How old are you?” I turned in my seat to face him.

A look of surprise came over his face and then he shrugged.
“I’m forty-six.”

“Forty-six!” I sat for a moment processing. “Holy crap,
you’re old.” I laughed to take the sting out of my words. Nash chuckled.
“You’re practically a cradle robber,” I added, immediately regretting it. Why
did I have to remind him how young I was? He already thought I was helpless.

“Oh yeah? Well, how old are you anyway?” He turned to look
at me and frowned. “You are twenty-one at least, right?”

“Of course I am. Geez! I’m going to be twenty-four soon.”
I looked at him in mock outrage.

Nash grinned and then shrugged. “What can I say? I like
‘em young.” He leered at me and I laughed.

Nash pulled into a parking lot and I looked at the sign on
the side of the building. It said “RPD Armoury”.

“The police department?” I looked at Nash. “You planning
on finally arresting me, Detective?”

Nash snorted and then looked at me with smoldering eyes. “No,
but I’d love to handcuff you later.” He hopped out of the truck and slammed
his door before I could recover with a witty comeback.

I was still sitting there thinking about the possibilities
of getting naked with Nash and a pair of handcuffs, when my door opened and he
stood there with a grin - a very cheeky grin. Thanks to the mate mark, he knew
exactly what I was thinking. “Oh wipe that smile off your face, you old wolf.
I don’t put out on the first date.” Nash’s surprised laugh echoed across the
empty parking lot.

***

“You know, every time you stick out that tongue, I just want
to bite it.” Nash’s voice was rough and a wave of heat flooded over me.

“Quiet you. You’re ruining my concentration.” I huffed out
a breath in exasperation.

“You don’t need to stick your tongue out to concentrate, do
you?” Nash chuckled.

I sucked my tongue back into my mouth - I really hadn’t
realized I was doing it - and pursed my lips shut. I looked down the gun sight
and slowly pressed the trigger.

Even with ear protection, the sound was almost deafening.
We were at the Riverton Police Department’s gun range and Nash was teaching me
to fire his Glock. On our first date! I grinned like an idiot thinking about
it. So maybe he did know me a little.

“Are you sure you’ve never fired a gun before?” Nash looked
at me skeptically and then back at the target at the end of my lane. There
were three closely spaced shots, all dead centre mass on the target.

“Nope, first time,” I bit my lip. There was no way I was
going to tell him I just had a shooting lesson, albeit with a hand-held
crossbow pistol, that afternoon. The two were pretty similar, after I got used
to the recoil that is. On the first shot, my hands had flown back and almost
hit me in the face. Luckily Nash had been ready and stuck his hand out to stop
them. “I guess I’m just a natural.” I smiled and gave an innocent little
shrug.

Nash narrowed his eyes at me, his bullshit detector
obviously going off, but not willing to call my bluff. He took the gun from me
and stood in my place at the line. He fired off five more shots in rapid
succession, hardly looking like he aimed at all. The target at the end of my
lane sported a happy face. Nash had added a smile to the eyes and nose I had
inadvertently placed with my shots. He flashed me a smug grin - the show off.