Rest in Pieces Page 11

  “What the hell did you cut me with?” she demanded.

  Gasping, panic clawed at my throat. Black and white dots danced before my eyes. I couldn’t breathe let alone answer her. She shook me, nonetheless. “Answer me!” she screamed. “Why isn’t it healing!”

  Fuck. This. Bitch, I thought. Though it hurt against her powerful grip, I jerked my chin down, loosening her hold, and reached up to clasp my fingers around her wrist with one hand as I dove into my pocket with my other. I uncapped the bottle I’d stowed there—my last fucking bottle of holy water—and splashed it right in her face.

  Delia dropped me so quickly, I nearly careened out of the window. My fingers released the bottle and latched onto the windowsill just before I fell completely through as Delia shrieked—her hands covering her face as she screamed and her skin sizzled. Her blackened flesh was caved in against one cheekbone, pain echoing across her features as she cupped her fingers over decaying skin.

  I leveraged myself up and scrambled across the floor for my daggers. Just as my hand closed around one, I heard the sound of voices coming up the stairs. I glanced at Delia and paused. I could choose to stay and kill her and risk having to explain not only why I stabbed her but having to explain why she turned to ash when I did—assuming, of course, that whoever was coming was human—or I could get the hell out of Dodge.

  I chose to get the hell out of Dodge.

  With a curse, I snatched up the curtain rod, ripped the drapes free and threw them over the shattered glass in the window. Placing my hands over the fabric, I lifted one foot over the sill as the voices reached the third floor. It would really suck if I broke something, I thought as I swung my other leg over and with my fingers clutched in the fabric of the curtains, I leapt down to the balcony below. I tucked my arms and legs in as I landed, rolling to a stop when my side slammed into the balcony railing. The curtains fluttered down over my head.

  I yanked the heavy fabric off and dove for the doors leading inside, slamming into an occupied bedroom. The couple writhing on the bed stopped, the man cursing and the girl squealing in surprise, but I didn’t stop. I dashed across the room and into the hallway, turning and barreling through the crowd drinking and laughing and chatting. The music was loud, even up here, which told me that the people who had heard Delia’s screams were vampires as well. What had I fallen into? How many were there?

  One, I could take. Two, maybe. But more than that?

  I was forced to slow down to stay as inconspicuous as possible, but I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. My hair was matted to the side of my face. Sweat coated my skin. I was lucky I had opted to wear darker colors. Had I chosen the baby blue tank top Olivia had tried to shove me into, I would have bled right through it.

  As it was, I could feel blood leaking from my wounds, making the inside of my shirt stick to my cuts. My body ached. My throat in particular, but I dared not stop. I hit the bottom floor and turned for the front door when my mind caught up with me.

  Maverick.

  Shit.

  I couldn’t leave him.

  Cursing, I whirled away from my escape and headed out the back. My head was pounding by the time I reached the pool, my heart hammering in my chest. The noise escalated when someone turned up the volume on the speakers as they blasted a dance song. I scanned the nearby area looking for the top of Maverick’s dark head.

  People crowded around the pool, bumping and grinding against each other, making my task all the more difficult. Across the yard, I saw Rachel and then … Maverick. She stroked her fingers down his chest as another guy talked to him. From where I could see, it was as though he didn’t care about her presence, but neither did he stop her from touching him. Torin was nowhere in sight. Good.

  I shoved my way through the dancing crowd and when a girl whirled on me with a scowl, I shoved her—glittering dress and drink in hand—into the pool and kept going, making my way to where Mav stood.

  “Maverick,” I barked his name as my sneakered feet hit the grass, “we gotta go.”

  He turned and frowned. “Where—”

  I didn’t let him finish, instead choosing to grab Rachel by her wrist and pry her off. “Sorry,” I sneered. “If Mav gets desperate for attention, he’ll give you a call later.”

  Her eyes lit with indignation, but before she could slap me or say something equally scathing, Mav stepped in front of her. “Barbie.”

  I shook my head and reached for his arm. “No time,” I said. “Gotta go. Now.”

  He must have been surprised by my willingness to touch him or perhaps it was the strength with which I dragged him along behind me, but he didn’t argue. I darted a glance over my shoulder. Rachel’s gaze was fixed on me—no, not on me—on Maverick. I frowned at that but continued forward. Whatever teenage lust hormones were floating through her system could be taken care of with someone else—preferably, someone I didn’t feel responsible for.

  “What are you doing?” Maverick finally asked, his tone low and warning.

  I stopped in front of the valet, handed over my ticket and spun towards Mav. I held out my hand and his dark eyes narrowed, but thankfully he pulled his out and gave it to another valet. I regretted letting someone else park the car for me, now. “What’s this about?” Mav demanded.

  “I—” My eyes shot up to the front of the mansion, skimming the windows. The curtains had been retrieved and put back up, but a gentle breeze fluttered through the window three stories up. “I can’t say right now.” It wasn’t safe and really, I needed time to come up with a plausible lie.

  A bolt of unease whipped through me. When the valets returned, I looked up at Maverick. “Follow me to Olivia’s,” I said. “Stay close.”

  “What—”

  I didn’t stay to answer anything else, but instead hopped into the Porsche and buckled in. Maverick’s growl of frustration reached me moments before I pressed on the gas and headed for the end of the driveway. In the rearview mirror, I watched as his truck was brought to him. Casting a glance my way, he got in and followed. I was more than a little surprised by the lack of fight from him, but I wasn’t in any way under the illusion that he trusted me. No. Maverick McKnight would want answers and soon.

  Those answers though—the truth, anyway—would get him killed. I was almost positive. Despite my concern for him, the farther we got from the party, the more my mind turned to Torin. He had walked in the sunlight. He had eaten food. He was in high school for fuck’s sake.

  So then, what the hell was he doing living in a house full of vampires?

  Sixteen

  Barbie

  The cuts beneath my clothes had begun to burn. The bleeding had slowed, but the fabric of my shirt was now stuck to my wounds—pulling them open each time I tried to shift it away until finally I just gave up and left it alone. I parked Olivia’s Porsche in her driveway and left her keys on the driver’s seat after checking to make sure I hadn’t bled all over the fine German car as Maverick’s truck pulled up alongside the curb.

  “Want to tell me what that was about?” he asked as I hopped in the cab.

  I left my seatbelt off and sank into the seat. “Not particularly,” I answered.

  “I’m sorry, let me rephrase,” he replied. “Tell me what the fuck that was about or else.”

  “Ohhh, so badass.” I groaned and slapped a hand onto the dash to keep myself from careening forward as he braked hard and snapped his head to the side to glare at me. “Okay, I thought I could trust your driving abilities,” I said, reaching for the seatbelt, “but not if you’re going to slam on your brakes for no damn reason.”

  “You just dragged me out of a party without warning and without explanation, Barbie. What the hell is going on?”

  I clipped the belt in place and leaned back once more. “Can we please get back to the house first?” I asked. “I’m tired and I’d really like a bath.”

  “If—and I mean the if part, Barbie—I take you back to the house without argument, will you tell me what th
e hell that was all about?”

  I waved my hand at him. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” I lied.

  He stared at me for a moment as if trying to assess my honesty. Either my poker face was damn good or he was awful at judging people because, with a heaved sigh, he lifted his foot off the brake and faced the windshield.

  Great, I thought. I’d managed to buy myself about twenty minutes to come up with a plausible story. Forty, if he let me take a shower and get changed first. The vision of mansions and trees outside the car blurred past as he drove in silence back to the house.

  When we pulled into the driveway, Maverick slammed out of the truck as if it were on fire while I, on the other hand, moved slower in deference to my wounds. Maverick was already on the porch, keys in the lock, and front door hanging partially open as he waited for me to catch up.

  “Awww,” I said with a grin as I ambled up. “Maybe there is a gentleman under all that asshole veneer.”

  “Not on your life,” he snapped. “Get inside.”

  “Can I take a shower first?” I asked, subduing my panic. “Before you start in on the Spanish Inquisition, that is.” I still had yet to come up with a story.

  He glared at me and gestured for me to go up the stairs before him. “Shower now or shower later, you’re still not getting out of telling me what I want to know,” he said.

  I swallowed around a thick throat. “I know.”

  Considering how close Maverick was sticking to me, I was slightly surprised that as I entered the bathroom he told me he’d be downstairs when I was done. I almost thought he’d been prepared to wait outside the bathroom until I finished. Grateful for the distance, I closed the bathroom door and began to lift my shirt away from my skin.

  I bit my lip hard as I slowly pried the fabric from my wounds and tugged it the rest of the way over my head. Most of the cuts were small, but there were at least two that had gone a bit deeper. I pressed my fingers against the outer edges of the one on my abdomen and winced. No wonder they were still burning, there was still fucking glass embedded in me.

  With a sigh, I got down on my knees and went digging under the cabinet for tweezers. I found a pair still in the package, and after tearing it open, I used them to pick the shards out of my cuts. Red flowed against the white plastic bag lining the bathroom trash can as I plopped each piece of glass right from my skin into its contents.

  When the burn subsided, I assumed I’d gotten it all out and divested myself of the rest of my clothes, leaning into the shower and cranking the water on full blast. As soon as I stepped inside and the water hit my cuts and bruises, I hissed out a pained breath.

  Punching the tile, I inhaled sharply and cursed. Fuck! It hurt. As the initial discomfort faded, I slowly released the breath I’d been unintentionally holding and set to work on soaping up. I scrubbed over the cuts, trying to get them as clean as possible and even bent over and shoved my scalp under the showerhead so I could make sure to get any and all remaining glass fragments out of my hair.

  As the water began to grow cold, I flipped around and leaned against the shower wall and finally let myself consider a story. What was I going to tell Maverick? What could I tell Maverick?

  Hey, sorry for pulling you away from your ex-bestfriend’s party, but I’m pretty sure he’s shacking up with a bunch of vampires and one of them just tried to kill me. It’s not a big deal, but maybe you should start carrying around a cross and some holy water. You know, just in case.

  Yeah, that was sure to go over splendidly. Probably about as well as him calling his parents and having me shipped off to a white padded room with comfy straitjackets and a routine schedule of pills meant to keep me calm and happy. Not only would he not believe me, but he would think I was crazy.

  I shut off the shower and got out, wrapping myself in a towel before padding out into the hall and towards my bedroom. I froze just inside the door at the figure reclining on my bed.

  “I thought you said you were going downstairs,” I said.

  Maverick shrugged, unashamed, as he laced his fingers together behind his neck and leaned against the headboard. “I thought better of it,” he replied. “I wouldn’t put it past you to climb out the window to get away from answering a few simple questions.”

  There was nothing simple about this coming conversation. “I’m not really in the climbing mood right now.” I cut across the room, reaching for the top drawer of my dresser as I began to pull out clothes. “Are you going to stay and watch the show or can I have a little privacy to change at least?”

  He lifted a single brow. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” he said. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

  The sheer fucking audacity of this asshole. He thought I’d run. I could see the challenge in his eyes. Turning away from him, I let the towel fall to the floor and then bent over to slide my underwear up my legs. The intake of his breath brought a grin to my lips. Oh, how easily men fell, I thought with a roll of my eyes.

  “Barbie.” I finished putting my panties on and then reached for a bra, snapping the front clasp as I ignored him. “Barbie,” he repeated my name harder this time. I yanked the soft stretchy workout shorts on and turned to face him, pausing at the look on his face. Maverick’s brows were drawn down low over his light brown eyes, his lips thinned into a straight, pinched line. I blinked at the ferocity of his gaze, fixated now on my chest. I looked down reflexively and cursed my stupidity as I reached behind me for my tank top and pressed it to my front.

  Maverick swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I didn’t move a single muscle as he approached, not even to slide the shirt over my head. “Maverick?” My voice was hoarse as he stood over me. I tipped my head back so I could keep my gaze on his face as I tried to determine what he would do or say next.

  He reached up and tugged the tank top in my fists down, his eyes sliding over the cuts and bruises. One thumb graced the edge of one of the cuts on my chest. “Your back…” he said, swallowing around a thick throat. “Why is it covered in bruises? Why are you all cut up?”

  I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t even thought about that. It must have happened when I went through the window. My lips parted, but no words escaped. What could I say? I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back a step. Though I didn’t press hard, he went willingly, keeping his eyes on me the entire time as I lifted my tank top and slid it over my head, tugging it down to cover the rest of my front.

  “It’s a complicated story,” I said.

  “I think we have time.” He gestured around. “Maybe it’s escaped your notice, but my parents aren’t here. They went into the city for the rest of the weekend. It’s just you and me, Barbie.” Maverick lifted one arm over my shoulder and braced it against the dresser at my back. He leaned close, his breath washing over my face, smelling of something citrusy.

  I grimaced. As much as I hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing Beth and Jon were out of town. Soon enough, Delia would want her vengeance, and unless Torin was an idiot—which I highly doubted—then he’d know exactly who had attacked his vampire friend based on her description of me. But if Maverick was going to stay safe, he needed a goddamn good reason to listen to me.

  I girded myself as I stared into his expectant gaze. “I think you’re going to want to sit down for this one,” I said. When he still didn’t move, I closed my eyes and took a breath, pushing out the next word on my tongue through clenched teeth. “Please?”

  I opened my eyes as Maverick’s hand fell away from the dresser. He took one step back and then another and another, until he was at the end of my bed. Folding his arms across his chest, I gathered that was the best I was going to get from him and I started talking.

  “The night my parents and brother died,” I started, “I was there.”

  He blinked. “I thought—”

  “I lied to the cops,” I said. “I didn’t get into a fight with my brother and spend the night at my neighbor’s house. The house didn’t
burn down on its own, and I … I saw how they died.”

  Maverick unfolded his arms, but he didn’t seem to know what else to do with them. His muscles tensed. His fists opened and closed at his sides. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell the cops then?” he asked.

  “Because I couldn’t prove it and the men who killed my family were already gone.” I left out the fact that they weren’t men at all, but vampires, and that they were dead and I had been the one to kill them.

  “What does this have to do with tonight?” he demanded.

  “The men who attacked my family said that there was someone else in charge. They insinuated that it had been preplanned. Tonight, I—there was someone at the party that…” I trailed off with a wince. I didn’t know how to keep going without giving away too much.

  “If you saw someone you recognized or someone you think might be involved in your family’s deaths, you need to call the police.” Maverick was already taking out his cell phone and punching in numbers when I slapped his phone out of his hand.

  “No!” I grabbed his wrist. “No, we can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Maverick growled. He broke my hold on his hand and reached up, his fingers closing over the sides of my arms as he shook me. “I may not fucking like you, Barbie, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let your family’s murderers get away.”

  I shook my head. “It’s more complicated than that,” I insisted. “There’s no evidence and despite what crime television would have you believe the police aren’t going to want to open up a case they already closed six months ago.”

  “So, you’re just going to leave it at that then?” He stared down at me, his mouth gaping open as he shook his head in disbelief. “Why?”

  “Please,” I said. “Just leave it alone for now. Stay in the house this weekend. Don’t go anywhere and don’t let anyone know about this.”