Legacy of Blood (21 page)

“So, how was your first night in VIP?” Trey asked as I sat down on the barstool beside him.

“Really good,” I smiled.  “Tips are so much better up there.”

“Tell me about it,” Aoife grumbled as she held up her nearly empty tip jar. 

“You know,” Hunter chuckled, “you’d make more if you didn’t scare the hell out of the men.  You can’t threaten to cut their balls off every time they flirt with you.”

“Aoife!” Trey gasped and then tsked.  “You’ll catch more flies with honey, sugar, than you will with all that vinegar you’ve got running through those veins of yours.”

“Ooh,” Quinn laughed loudly.  “Burn!”

“Well if human boys weren’t such sensitive little babies, maybe they’d learn to take rejection better.”

“Aoife, you can’t be mean to people,” I shook my head and chuckled.  “And believe it or not, you can be down-right frightening at times.  It’s no wonder you didn’t make any money.  Customer service is an art form.  You have to schmooze and smile, wink and play along.”

“I tried,” she sighed.  “The barback you hired… Ducky?  He just kept getting in my way and annoying me all night.  My pheromones turned him into a clingy, clumsy, drooling fool.”

“Oh no,” I shook my head.  “Please tell me you didn’t threaten to castrate him too?”

We all started laughing when she looked at us with a frown that said she had indeed done just that.

“I’ll split my tips with you tonight.” I offered but she shooed it away with her hand.  “It’s the least I can do for taking you away from VIP.”

“Keep your money.  I’ve got plenty.”

Footsteps sounded at the front entrance, drawing everyone’s attention away from the conversation.  Ruarc and his Army,
An Dilis
, had arrived for our meeting.  I suddenly felt anxious and started fidgeting with my hands.  Archer came up behind my stool and wrapped one arm around the front of my neck, pulling my back to rest against his chest.  I reached up and stroked his arm lightly, thankful for his comforting presence.  I was nervous to find out what their plan was to catch Amun before he started killing my family and friends.

“Miss Morrison,” Ruarc nodded his head to me in greeting before he did the same to Archer.

“I’m glad you could meet us here,” Archer smiled, shaking his hand.  “Would you and your men like something to drink?”

“That’s very kind, brother, but we cannot stay long,” Ruarc said as he and his men took a seat at the bar. 

Oleif’s towering figure caught my eye and I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him.  Even though I walked away with my life and was grateful for it, I still loathed how Oleif had treated me.  He stared at me silently for a few seconds and I thought he was going to say something, but he turned his attention back to Ruarc.

“I sought the council of our leader and Cardinal Flanagan this evening,” Ruarc started.  “Both are in agreement.  We must use whatever tools we are afforded to finally catch this vile being.  That being said, Miss Morrison will be given a team made up of our finest soldiers and trackers.  Amun is here in the city, that much we know.  We also know he isn’t planning on leaving until he has what he wants, and that is Miss Morrison.  Starting tomorrow morning she and our team will begin scouring the city for him.  We’ll find him.  He wants her bad enough and I think that’s where he is most likely to make a mistake.”

“Um,” I interjected, raising my hand, “he said I had better be wearing the dress and the ring he left for me when I come looking for him.  I can’t go running around town in a freakin’ wedding dress and combat boots with swords and daggers strapped to me.  I’ll look absolutely ridiculous!  Not to mention all the attention it’ll attract.”

“I agree,” Ruarc nodded.  “I’m not in the business of making Amun happy; I just want to kill him.  Forgo the dress but wear the ring.  If he sees it on you, he’ll know you made an effort and be more likely to walk into our traps.  And, I hate to tell you this, but you will be unarmed tomorrow.”

“No,” I said at the same time Archer and a few others voiced their concerns.

“Yes,” Ruarc said sternly.  “If he sees you armed to the hilt, he won’t approach you.  You need to look as if you are agreeing to go with him, Miss Morrison.  It is the only way we are going to catch him.”

“I at least take my dagger or the deal is off,” I clenched my teeth.  I didn’t want to be within a mile of Amun and be weaponless.  The torture I endured at his hands was still painfully fresh in my mind.  I knew what he was capable of and there was no way in hell I’d hunt him with no way to defend myself. 

Ruarc was silent for a long moment, and then he nodded his head once.  “Fine, but the weapon stays hidden beneath your clothing.”

“Fine,” I sighed.  I’d agree as long as I wasn’t defenseless.  “But since we’re making concessions, I have one.  I want Dean and his pack to help track.”

“No,” Ruarc said, shutting me down immediately.

“Yes,” I countered.  “It was only because of him and his wolves that I was found in that basement in east Austin and rescued.  No offense, but you guys haven’t been able to find Amun in the four weeks since I was taken.  It took Dean and his wolves a whole day to find him.  I don’t have any time to waste here.  I have seven days or he starts killing my family.  If my best friend dies because you are too stubborn and prideful to accept help, you’ll have two pissed off ‘creatures’ to deal with instead of one.”

“You dare threaten our leader?!” Oleif bellowed and stood from his stool.

“It’s not a threat, it’s a fact,” I said calmly.

Oleif growled and flashed towards me, but was forced to stop a few feet from me when he crashed into Ruarc.

“You will control your temper, soldier.  Do I make myself clear?”

I stared at Ruarc, surprised that he stopped Oleif.  After all, Oleif was only defending him.  Ruarc spoke quickly to him in Irish Gaelic and Oleif settled down and reluctantly returned to his chair.

“Oleif does not like you, Miss Morrison,” Ruarc said, turning back to me.

“Oh, shoot,” I sighed and sarcastically pouted toward Oleif.  “I guess that means I won’t be getting an invitation to his next Tupperware party.  Damn.”

“Don’t poke the bear, Morrison,” Hagan growled and I shot him a look that screamed
‘why do you have to take the fun out of everything?’

Ruarc sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.  He looked like an overly stressed out parent ready to snap on their unruly children.

“Fine,” he huffed after a long pause.  “IF the wolf agrees to help you he can.  BUT, he is to stay far away from me and my men.  He runs perimeter and that’s it.  He speaks to you and only you.  I will not put up with him or his pups; do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Crystal, sir,” I smiled, thankful he gave in.  I would feel more comfortable if Dean was there helping.  I knew Dean cared about me and wouldn’t let anything happen to me on his watch.  It’s not that I didn’t trust The Faithful, because I did, I just didn’t trust them to do what was in my best interests.  They had their agenda and I had mine.  Mine was keeping me safe and killing Amun.  Theirs was just to kill Amun.

“
Fearchar
, I’d like to borrow the Sword of Saint Patrick if I may,” Ruarc said, addressing Archer next. 

“Of course,” Archer bowed respectfully to Ruarc.  “I just ask that it is returned when Amun is finally killed and that you keep it far away from Skye.”

“Why does he have to keep it away from me?” I asked, confused.

“Because I fear it is the only thing that can truly kill you,” Archer looked at me with pain in his eyes.  I had heard before that the sword was supposed to kill all unholy things but the fact he said it could kill me sent a chill through my entire body.  Was I, in fact, unholy?  Did Archer truly see me that way?

“I swear to you she will be safe while the sword is in
An Dilis’s
hands,
Fearchar
,” Ruarc bowed his head and put his right fist to his heart.  He then turned to me.  “I’ll be here at 0800 to pick you up.  Call your wolf.  If he agrees to assist, and agrees to my terms, he needs to be here by that time too.  I won’t wait for him if he’s late.”

I silently nodded my head.  My mind was still trying to wrap itself around the idea that I may be an unholy creation. 
Do they all see me that way?

Ruarc shook Archer’s hand and then followed his men out the front entrance.  Archer returned to me and pulled me off the barstool.

“I do NOT think you are unholy, baby,” Archer said softly but sternly, tilting my head up so our eyes met.  “I just don’t want to take any chances with the sword.  That’s all I meant by it.”

I should be mad he had read my mind, but I learned long ago that whenever I thought extra hard on something or if something particularly bothered me, my thoughts tended to broadcast themselves loud and clear.

I nodded my head and allowed him to pull me into a tight embrace.  “Why don’t you go ahead and go upstairs while I finish up down here.  We’ll stay the night in my apartment.  I’ll call Gunnar and have him bring you by a few sets of clothes, okay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded again.  “Okay.  I’ll go call Dean and see if he wouldn’t mind helping tomorrow.”

I called a quick goodbye to everyone and accepted a comforting hug from Trey.  As soon as I was in Archer’s office on the third floor, I closed the door, sat down behind his desk and picked up the business phone.  Using his phone reminded me that I really needed to replace my broken cell phone as soon as possible.  I cursed my temper as I punched his number in.

The call to Dean was just as I expected.  He was all for helping me but he cursed my new condition, Ruarc, and particularly “that sick, psycho son-of-a-bitch” Amun.  He said he would ask his best trackers to help but couldn’t promise anything.  The fact that he was even friends with a vampire would not go over well with his pack and he wasn’t going to force anyone to help me against their will, no matter how much he liked me.  He said he’d call a meeting tonight and he’d see me in the morning at eight.

I hung up the phone, sat back in Archer’s big leather chair, and sighed.  The fact that Dean was even willing to help me was huge.  I knew how much vampires and werewolves hated each other and the fact that he was trying to maintain a friendship with me spoke volumes.  I didn’t think I would ever be able to repay him fully for standing by my side and helping me through all of this bullshit Amun drama.  His willingness to stand by me touched me deeply.  It was suddenly very obvious to me that Dean was one of those ultra-rare ‘ride or die’ friends; that he would stand by me no matter what or die trying.  I loved and deeply respected him in that moment and knew I had to find a way some day to tell him how much his friendship meant to me.  Friends like him were one in a billion and I hoped I would get a chance to ‘ride or die’ for him one day and return the favor.

Archer was still busy downstairs so I decided to take a shower and get ready for bed.  I was exhausted and knew I needed to be in top form tomorrow for the hunt.  I quickly got undressed and hopped into the shower.  I spent more time than I needed to in there but it gave me a chance to think.  I worried Amun wouldn’t show himself to me if he caught wind of
An Dilis
or Dean.  I tried to find a way around them but couldn’t.  There was no way in hell I was going searching for Amun without backup.  I told myself that maybe I’d think of something tomorrow and cut off the shower and dried off.

In my haste to shower, I forgot to grab something to wear from Archer’s closet so I wrapped myself tightly in the towel and opened the door.  Archer was sitting on the bed drinking a bag of blood and glanced up at me as I entered.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly.  “You were in there a while.  I was starting to worry.”

“I’m fine,” I said, managing a small smile as I walked over to his closet.  “I just have a lot on my mind.  Would you mine if I borrowed a shirt?  I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Help yourself, love.  Gunnar will be here in a few hours with your clothes.”

I fished through his closet and came upon one of Jameson’s vintage Rolling Stones concert t-shirts.  I thought about the messages he had left me and quickly put the painful memory aside.  I was sick of hurting; sick of the drama, sick of disappointing people, sick of being judged because I wasn’t perfect like everyone wanted me to be.  I just wanted to forget everything, for one night.  For one night I just wanted to be Skye Morrison, the person; not Skye Morrison the human or Skye Morrison the vampire… just me… fatally flawed me.  I selected a white button down dress shirt, threw it on and dropped the towel as I lowered it down my hips.

“Can you give me a hand?” I asked, turning to Archer and holding up one floppy sleeve.

Archer smiled as he unbuttoned the cuff and started rolling each sleeve up.  When he was done I sat down on the end of the bed and silently waited for him to get undressed.  I shamelessly watched as he removed each article of clothing; his sculpted body demanding my utmost attention. 
Oh. My. Yum…
  I stared at the way his muscles shifted and moved as he did; his strong, fit form a veritable work of art.  He’s perfection incarnate; God’s magnum opus.  
Lord, he’s beautiful.  What I wouldn’t give to lick those abs…
God definitely knew what he was doing when he created Archer Rhys. 
And God said ‘Let there be Archer Rhys’, and there was and He saw that it was GOOD!
  I giggled aloud at the thought at the same time Archer laughed.