“Occam’s Razor,” Syre murmured, his mind shifting through the known facts.
“Fuck Occam. I’d like to shove his razor up his ass.”
Brows lifting, he refocused on his son. “Use your anger to strengthen your focus.”
“None of us have our head in the game, Dad. We’re al reeling.” Torque took a deep breath. “But the reason I interrupted your afternoon snack is Vash. I just got off the phone with Salem, and he’s concerned about the Alpha.”
“So am I.” He would never forget the sight of Vash pinned to a tree by a bristling, infuriated lycan—a breed she had just cause to revile.
“He fucked her last night.”
A long moment passed as Syre’s brain struggled to process the impossible. “Be careful how you speak of her.”
“How else am I supposed to say it?” Leaning forward, Torque set his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “I know how she feels about lycans, and this one is under suspicion for Nikki’s kidnapping.”
“But we seem to have discovered that he’s not responsible.”
“Let’s not forget the lycan she tortured for information. What are the chances the Alpha doesn’t know about that or that she was hunting him when she did it? You ever heard of a lycan not avenging the unprovoked death of a packmate?”
“You think he forced her? Or extorted her cooperation in some way? Is that what Salem said?” Syre’s voice was low and furious. The thought twisted through his mind, rousing a murderous ferocity.
He would raze the earth to protect Vashti. She was his conscience, his adviser, his hammer, his ambassador, and countless other extensions of himself. She was the strongest woman he’d ever known, yet he’d seen her shattered into pieces. Utterly broken and defiled. She’d pul ed herself together in the years since, but the cracks and fissures remained. While others thought she was harder and more inviolate than she had ever been, he knew she was more fragile. It was why he forced himself—against every instinct—to keep her on the front lines. If she thought he viewed her as diminished by the desecrations inflicted on her, it would be a blow he didn’t think she was strong enough to bear. His belief in her strength was what bolstered her belief in herself.
“Salem doesn’t know what’s going on; that’s why he cal ed. He only knows that they had sex and the Alpha wouldn’t let him see Vash this morning, said she was sleeping.”
Syre pushed to his feet, knowing damn wel that Vash hadn’t slept in ages.
“She hasn’t touched a man since Charron,” Torque reminded him unnecessarily. “You real y think her first go would be with a lycan?”
“Ready my plane.” Syre stalked toward his bedroom to pack. He’d heard enough. “I want to take off within the hour.”
Vash blinked against the harsh glare of the sun as she exited Shred. Behind her, Elijah growled at the Vegas heat not yet at its fiercest. Lycans were sensitive creatures, which—if she’d been thinking clearly—might’ve clued her in to how much Elijah enjoyed being touched. She knew now, and she damned the time constraints that prevented her from indulging him. She’d had him purring at the time Salem came back to pound on the door. Her captain had given them barely thirty minutes between interruptions, just long enough for Salem to get a blow job while he cal ed Torque, taking multitasking to the extreme.
If she could have…if there had been time…she would have sent Salem away so Elijah could finish what he’d started. She was shamed now to think of what she’d done to him the night before in her fear. Her own astonishing weakness for him made her so vulnerable, which both terrified her and made her blind to his returning vulnerability where she was concerned. That she, a woman who’d long ago learned to use her attractiveness against men, could miss that susceptibility was a sign of how skewed she was. It would have soothed her body and mind to do it over again, to start the day with gentle morning sex to erase the lingering anger of the night before and to reestablish her control of herself and the situation.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear Elijah from her mind. She’d reached the Jeep alongside Salem before she realized the Alpha wasn’t with them. Turning around, she looked for him and found him circling slowly, his head tilted back to put his nose in the air. Something in the way he held his body warned her. She grabbed one of her katanas and her cel phone from the backseat and returned to him.
“What is it?” Vash inhaled again, but her sense of smel wasn’t as acute as a lycan’s.
As she shoved her phone into her top, he looked at her, his face grim. “An infected. No more than two blocks over. Somewhere to the north of us.”
Yanking his shirt over his head, he toed off his boots and dropped his jeans. In an instant he was wolven, a big and beautiful y regal beast. A moment beyond that, he was gone.
She was right on his tail, tracking the scent of him that seemed embedded in her senses. Distantly, she was aware of Salem at her side. They’d been hunting together so long it was effortless. He feinted in counterpoint to her, darting around obstacles like Dumpsters and discarded cardboard boxes. With nary a signal between them, they took to the wal s, racing opposite each other down an al eyway. Her hair whipped in the wind, her steel stilettos bit into the stucco, breaking off chunks to crumble to the ground below.
And in the back of her mind she was aware that Elijah had thrown himself into a hunt for a vampire without a second thought. One of her people, as they were al hers. As if it was instinctive for him to do so when in truth he’d simply been wel trained. By Adrian.
How could that have slipped in importance in her mind?
The shattering of glass preceded her turning a corner. Elijah’s tail disappearing through a broken window directed her along with his scent. It was a building under construction; most of the windows stil bore the manufacturer’s sticker. Salem bounded through first, widening the opening. Vash sailed through after him, tucking and rol ing and springing up onto her feet. And froze.
The construction workers that should have been al over the site were al over the floor instead. In pieces.
Salem cursed. Elijah crouched low and growled.
The bare concrete was covered in blood and entrails. Limbs and heads were scattered across the floor or lifted to ravenous foaming maws of at least a dozen wraiths. Bloodshot eyes glittered, nostrils twitching as they smel ed fresh meat.
Vash had seen such carnage before, when a rogue minion, driven insane by the deterioration of his mortal soul, had Changed everyone in his family. Lost to the initial bloodlust of the Change, they’d gone on a rampage, slaughtering their entire neighborhood.
God. It never got easier to bear.
One of the wraiths stood apart from the others. Hunched and shuffling, he darted back and forth swiftly, wearing a semicircular path in the blood.
His gaze was riveted to Elijah, who paced with restless energy. With his ears flattened to his head, the Alpha snarled a threat.
The sickened vamp glanced at Vash and Salem. “Go. Away.”
The words were uttered in a voice so guttural it took her a moment to figure out what he’d said. “Fuckin’ A. Did that wraith just talk?”
Just as she processed the possibility of higher brain function, the wraith leaped a good twenty feet across the room…directly at her. Startled, she raised her katana, knowing she was a split second too late and steeling herself for the impact.
Elijah blocked the assault in midair, jaws first, catching the wraith in the juncture between the shoulder and neck. A sickening crunch reverberated through the space, inciting an unexpected reaction—the bloodpack abandoned their feast and lunged at the powerful lycan en masse.