Louisiana Moon (17 page)

On the ride home, a thought kept churning his mind. Would she ever view him the same since he unleashed his power by accident and marked her?

Back in the safety of the coven, he went straight to his bedroom. The sun was on the edge of rising, its affect shuddering deep within his bones. The earth trembled when the first streaks graced the lands of Louisiana.

A few moments passed, and the shaking ceased. He strolled to the bookshelf in the far corner. Pressing a few books inward opened the hidden space. Inside, the legacy book to her past emerged. In due time, the secret held within would be shown to her. He only wished he could read the inscriptions, but the writings were foreign to him. Despite the fact he could take the book to the elders, he wanted to give it to Kris first. Maybe she would be able to translate the foreign writings.

In this book, her legacy, her father had recorded vital information—past secrets Ryant knew might change her life forever and possibly his.

16

The next morning, the sun’s rays burst through the shades. Never happier to see the golden glow, Kris hurried out of bed. The scent of bacon and eggs swirled in the air. Her mouth watered at the temptation, and her stomach groaned with the delectable smell. The compulsion to eat more protein was stronger than ever before. Odd. She had no clue as to why—she just knew she had to eat meat and bacon certainly qualified.

After she showered and dressed in jeans and a fitted white tee, she tied the outfit together with her Nikes. With a busy day ahead of her, she hurried to the dresser to locate a hair clip. And there lay her .40 caliber. Her stomach tightened as prickles shot over her skin. Damn it. Ryant had slipped into her house. Not much she could do about it right now.

She flung on the holster and slipped the gun into its rightful place. Despite his intrusion, it was wonderful to have the weapon back. It gave her some sense of security.

She hurried downstairs to greet Darin. As she rounded the corner, she spotted him. “Did you sleep well?”

He turned with a wide smile, straight golden hair reaching his freshly shaven jaw line. “Yes. Thank you. I made breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t really eat in that shithole.”

Kris glanced at the mountain of food. “I didn’t either. And I’m sure I was offered better food than what you were.”

“Water and bread.”

It was more than she suspected but much less than it should have been. Blasted Ryant.

She sat at the table and scoped food onto her plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Once her stomach made happy instead of grumbling noises, she looked up at him and smiled. “Remember what we talked about last night?” He nodded. “I’m serious. I need you with me at all times because of what happened at Club Fifteen. We don’t need another V mishap.”

“I got it. What are you doing today?”

Well… Guess she should tell him about her day job. “I’m a bounty hunter, and we need to go to my office. I’m sure I’ve got loads of work to catch up on.”

“Cool. A bounty hunter.” He chomped on a bacon strip and gazed at her thoughtfully.

She figured she knew what he thought. Tiny female, big boobs and something else but still not usual bounty hunter material.

They finished eating and hopped in her like-new car. Not that she wanted to beholden to him but she was glad Ryant had repaired her baby. It gave her one less thing to deal with.

After a short drive, they arrived at her office where a slew of messages waited. Darin roamed the interior, inspecting the pictures on the walls and playing with the palm plant. She watched him carefully for signs he was planning to bolt. Ryant’s smooth voice from the answering machine drew her back to her messages.

“Kris, check your fundraiser account. I paid you half the money to help find the escapee. The rest you’ll receive when he’s caught. I sent an email on a lead.”

Her brows lifted. She hadn’t given any verbal agreement to find Stanley Adams. Bastard knew she would still do it. She turned to the laptop and opened the foundation site. Twenty thousand dollars had been deposited into the fund bucket. As she gawked over the amount she’d been turning down, Kris swallowed. She then opened her email. And sure enough, Ryant had sent her an email. With a click of the mouse, she opened the message.

A Rita Martin is known for hanging out with Adams. She may have been his human slave. She lives in the Berkley Apartments in Empire, LA. Apartment 208. She drives a black Nissan.

Looked like her first visit would be to Rita Martin.

Her voice recorder overflowed with more messages. A sheriff’s department needed help with a fae, which by the end of the day would turn out to be an interesting one. When a fae went bad, they were like druggies, loose and sketchy.

Looked like she had something else to do after she checked out Rita.

After she printed the reference sheet on the bond, Kris studied Adam’s profile. A scar above his upper lip, green eyes and cropped brown hair made him look like any normal man off the streets. A long list of dirty laundry was printed beneath his picture, everything from slinging drugs to money laundering and gambling. Well, wasn’t he just a keeper and sparkle in his mamma’s eye?

A few hours passed since they left the office. She and Darin drove to a few places on the printout where the fae hung out. It was odd to have someone in the car with her. She was a solo kind of gal. Besides, they’d never really had their talk. To gather information from him now would give the hunt more purpose.

“Why hasn’t any of this made you go mad?” She shot him a quick glance just in time to see a nerve tic in his jaw. If his body language wasn’t screaming secrets, she never would have guessed he held anything back.

“Honestly, it has. I…I mean I do have an open mind about things but…vampires.” He readjusted in the seat. “Vampires are made up creatures. Well, until a few days ago. I never dreamed they existed or that I’d find myself kidnapped by one. Why did V take me?”

“Ryant claims it was for some army. For her, probably, pure pleasure.”

Darin turned to her and cleared his throat. “Are you worried?”

“Yes.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Beyond keeping you close?” He nodded. “Just that. For now. I don’t know who, but call whoever you need to and explain you have an emergency and have to leave.” She tossed him her cell.

While Darin dialed the number and made the call, Kris concentrated on driving through Empire, Louisiana. Once on Rita’s street, Kris spied the red brick apartment complex and switched on the blinker. She peered up at the second level as she pulled next to a black Nissan, at apartment 208. That Nissan must be Rita’s.

“What are we doing here?” Darin placed the cell on the dashboard then leaned over to look out the side window. The car’s air conditioning system picked up musk and spice with a hint of earth, filtering it throughout the car. Nice.

Clearing her thoughts of his scent, she said, “Ryant sent me an email saying this woman hung out with vamps and might be the girlfriend of the man he’s searching for. I need to see if she’s all right.”

When they exited the car, Kris straightened the holster at her side as she scanned the area. The area was known for robbery, making it theft block number one.

At the moment, her weapon stuck out like a sore thumb. What if people assumed Rita had started trouble and speculated over what kind of mischief? Kris didn’t know the woman, but wouldn’t stir up extra problems for her. She grabbed a light blazer from the backseat, threw the item on to conceal the gun and let the hot, midday sun bake her.

The stairs were in the courtyard. She and Darin walked to the grassy area and she scoped her surroundings as they crossed. The desolate place appeared normal enough. Until her gaze landed on four statues in the Asian-inspired landscape. Her heart skipped a beat. Thoughts of Soulscapes played havoc with her mind.

Kris halted in front of the white door of apartment 208 and knocked a couple of times. She stared into the peephole. Nothing moved in front of the tiny window. She pounded harder. Still nothing.

She side-shuffled to the double paned window by the door. Shielding her hands over her eyes, she peeked inside through a couple of flowery window decals. A fan made the sheer blue curtains flutter.

Going back to the front door, she knocked again then waited, her hands on her hips as she tapped her fingers against her jeans. She looked over at Darin. He leaned against a post, one foot tucked underneath his butt as he stared at the overhead cement ledge. “She isn’t home, is she?”

“I don’t know.” After an idea popped into her mind, she slipped a small cardholder out of her back pocket. Normally, when she prepared to break and enter, she brought her handy dandy tool kit. Not having expected to break in anywhere today, she had to go with what she had. Her cards would have to suffer the price. As she sifted through her collection, she stopped at an old library card.

Glad the door didn’t have a deadbolt, Kris placed her hand on the knob and slipped the card between the latch and frame. She shook the door hard and pressed on the plastic.

The card slipped further inside.

Almost there.

One more tug and Kris would either be home free or her ass would be planted on a cement bench in jail for breaking and entering. She wiggled faster and pushed harder.

Ta da.

“You did it.” Darin acted surprised. He bent forward to inspect her work.

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, it’s easy.” She shoved the door inward. It opened with no sound.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one spotted them, and then peered inside. The brown couch held a cream blanket, rumpled like its occupant had been there, but long since gone. The fan blew the scent of cinnamon into the air. A light breeze feathered over her face.

Darin stood at her backside, peeking over her shoulder as he examined the room. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. You stay here. Let me check out the apartment.”

“I’ll stay in the living room.”

She moved into the living room and he followed. When she did, she pulled out her .40 caliber, held it arm’s length from her waist. She went straight for the picture littered hall and crept toward a bedroom then pushed open the door with the gun tip. The flower decor spread was made and the bed showed no impressions. Everything appeared normal. Interesting.

Slowly, she eased to the closet, flung the door wide. Not a thing seemed out of place. Back down the hall, she inspected the second bedroom. The room was vacant. Even the white walls were blank. No pictures or decor. The only signs of living were makeup scattered across the porcelain sink top and a red towel lying bunched over the rack. The lighthouse shower curtain had been disturbed as if Rita had been getting ready to go out.

Kris stepped into the kitchen to search for anything—a note, maybe. The message light blinked on the answering machine. She squashed the impulse to hit the Play button. Oh, what the hell. She hit the button anyway. Several voicemails were from Rita’s mom wondering if Rita had planned to visit for dinner, and that was two days ago.

With a hip balanced against the counter, Kris sifted through the mail. Everything looked okay—bills, credit card offers and a local grocery ad. With a sigh, she tossed everything down.

She stepped next to the patio sliding glass door and stared outside. A scan of the metal frame showed the door unlocked, when the front door had been locked.
How odd.
Opening it, she went out onto the patio. Her gaze slid over the wood railing then caught on a piece of cloth fluttering in the warm wind. She slid the gray shred off and inspected it.

The minute she rubbed the rough cotton between the pads of her thumb and forefinger, the material crumbled to ash. She sniffed the fine dust.
Charcoal.
Soulscapes? She shook her head. Why would they want Rita?

After Kris returned to the kitchen, she shut and locked the sliding door. “Come on, we have a bad guy we need to pick up.” One day later on in the week, she’d come back to Rita’s apartment to see if she’d returned. Kris passed Darin, brushing against his shoulder.

When he opened the door for her, she glanced at him and smiled. One corner of his lips lifted, revealing a small dimple she’d never noticed before. How cute.

Inside the car, she studied the printout. Two places to look for the fae were left. Joe’s Bar, located on the shady side of town, and Louisiana Grille. The printout showed that these two places were the fae’s favorite places to hang out. Her instincts suggested Joe’s would be the best place as any to find him.