Chapter 28

Cora woke in one ungainly leap, peering around heavily at her surroundings, trying to figure out where she was and what had happened. A soft couch with a fuzzy blanket over her and a poetry book folded on her chest. Jameson’s cabin. The knife! That heavy used-to-be-a-spike that had felt so good in her hand had made it all real, every bit of it, then woven into her dream to show her other truths. She had sisters coming to Five Hills, or who were already here, and soon she would know them. Not biological sisters, although they were all related. But sisters in a very real sense, all the same. Killers, every last one of them, like her. Vampire killers.

Hooo-boy. Cora dropped her head back to the couch pillow and tuned-in to herself, trying to get ahold of how she felt about this new determination. Surprisingly ok. Excited, even? One good thing, getting fired suddenly felt like no big deal, when a few hours ago it had meant the world. But now? She was a witch. No, a switch. And she had vampires to kill. Grading papers and planning lectures probably would have gotten in the way of all the murder.

Was it really murder if it was vampires? Cora’d gotten the impression from Carick and Jameson that everything she’d ever studied about vampires was going to turn out to be wrong. But no big. She loved to learn new shit, and she was gonna get an A+ in vampire-murdering. Become the star student of her undead-assassination academy. Whatevs. She’d skipped training yesterday why?

She sat up and reached for the knife laying next to her on a coffee table. But what was beside it? A rich grosgrain leather object had been placed there while she slept.

A sheath for her knife, on a slim, small, black belt with a brass buckle. Another, smaller belt attached at the tip of the sheath. Cora stood slowly and grabbed the rig, stepping into it. She couldn’t get it up over her hips, so she undid it and slipped it up to her waist, securing it there quickly. She turned and tried to examine herself. No. That wasn’t where it belonged. She moved the belt buckle out three notches, then a fourth, and let it fall to the top of her hips. The sheath hung from her right side, the belt slanting across her middle sexily, the smaller belt buckling perfectly around her thigh to hold her weapon in place. The knife was small, so the sheath was small. Dainty, but deadly. She loved everything about both.

She burst with excitement and looked around for a mirror… or a man, something that would tell her how she looked. The smell of dinner reached her, but Jameson wasn’t in the kitchen. She skidded to a stop there when she realized the neat-as-a-pin kitchen didn’t have a microwave. She’d be screwed there by herself. Would have to eat cold cereal and peanut butter and m&m sandwiches. But she bet that explained where Jameson was.

She headed out the back door and found him in a tiny makeshift seating area. Stumps from felled trees served as chairs around the fire pit, and Cora could see dinner in progress. A skinned, cleaned rabbit stretched on a spit above the fire, a covered Dutch oven rested to one side of the coals. Jameson had his back to her and was ironing a pair of pants with an oven mitt and an old-fashioned iron he’d warmed in the fire, as a few stars began to twinkle in the dusking sky.

Adorable. Sexy as shit. She wanted to eat him up. “Are you for real?” she said, catching his attention.

Jameson turned to face her. When he saw the knife in its sheath at her hip, his eyes bugged out of his head and his tongue might have lolled. Just for a second. So that answered that. The knife looked good on her. It felt good on her.

When he spoke, Jameson’s voice was husky, rough, and his words were completely disingenuous from what she could tell he was thinking. “Looks like you had a good nap.” She almost laughed, but instead she made plans to take advantage of what was going through his brain.

She nodded and stalked toward him, her body lighting up with desire. “Now I’m hungry. What’s on the menu?”

He lowered his head and stared at her through hooded eyes. He was so hers. She hoped the rest of him was as big as what she saw of him in clothes. Not too big. But good big. Fill-you-up-right big.

“Roasted wild hare and sorrel,” he said, deliciously, catching her mood and responding in kind.

She reached him, and he was ready for her. He leaned down to her, grasped her around the waist, above the belt and sheath, pulling her close. Finally, there was no resistance to her and to what was between them. He wasn’t going to deny them anymore.

Their lips met, her eyes open, his too, eye contact so strong she felt it in her throat, in her nipples, at her very core.

A green flash filled her vision, obscuring him for only a second, and then her eyes slipped closed. He was hers. Forever. She could feel it deep inside.

The kiss deepened and she lost herself to it. He pulled her close, then lifted her off her feet, tucking his arms under her ass so their faces were right in line with each other. He didn’t even need to widen his stance to hold her up. She was lost to him and everything masculine, strong, sweet and thoughtful about him.

That he was gonna keep her from killing humans she wasn’t supposed to kill by handcuffing her with pleasure, fucking her senseless, distracting her in every way imaginable with what was hopefully a very pretty penis? Only a bonus.

***

Jameson bent to her, unable to stop himself for duty, country, friends, not even Carick. If he had to give up being Keeper to have her, he would. She was fresh and lovely, so pliant in his arms, her taste sweet like sugar. She owned him.

Pine and bitter herbs replaced Cora’s scent for a moment and he stiffened then separated from her, going on alert, scanning the woods around them.

Vampire.

Cora only looked confused for a moment, then rage crossed her face. She bent her knees and took a wide stance, settling her center of gravity where it would be harder for someone to take from her. She delicately removed her resonant from its sheath, palming it, holding it out in front of her, other hand up to block any blows that came from the side, looking like a trained assassin. A magical trained assassin, by the flaring green glow that only he could see.

Jameson’s couldn’t stop from staring at her, even as he continued to scent, trying to determine by smell alone where exactly the vampire was. How was it he’d gone one-hundred-and-some years without seeing a vampire in Five Hills, and now one was stalking his cabin? Because shit was moving. He had a switch with him. And vampires were arrogant motherfuckers who needed one less heart in their chests. He growled. They were going to try to touch his switch? Over his dead body. Which would never happen, not when Cora needed him.

Cora moved toward a trail. Jameson ran in front of her, tucking her behind him with one hand, clearing her dagger. “Stay behind me,” he ordered. He would keep her safe. He moved down the trail, his hearing focused on her while scent and sight searched for vampire.

“Fuck that,” Cora muttered behind him, getting a running start down the trail in his direction. Was she going to run into him? He would flatten her without meaning to. She would bounce off like a quarter off an army bunk. Instead she leapt at him, her hands hitting his shoulders and propelling her up and over. He tried to stop and spot her, but she was already spinning off. Cora landed on the rough trail ahead of Jameson on hands and feet, rolled her forward momentum into a somersault, and within one breath was up and running away, dagger pulled back out of her sheath. Her glow lit up the path and the trees four feet out from her on all sides.

Jameson stopped and stared, jaw hanging down. He couldn’t help it. She’d… vaulted him.

And fuck she was fast. She rounded a bend and he could only see her glow. Then not even that. Fuck! He shifted, clothes ripping off of him, and roared a warning into the forest as the white wolf. Touch my woman and have your limbs torn from your body!

He bounded forward, catching up to her easily. The trail through the evergreens wasn’t wide enough for her and him both, but she heard him coming and skidded to a stop, turning to face him.

She stared for only a moment, and he could see the realization click into place behind her eyes. She nodded sharply. Acceptance. “I’m losing him,” she hissed, moving to the side of the trail to let him pass. “Find him. Lead me to the bloodsucker.”

***

Cora reached out a trembling hand to touch the massive white wolf as it passed her, snuffling and growling and snapping at the air on both sides of the path. He roared again, rather like a bear, or a Tyrannosaurus Rex, like no noise she ever would have thought a wolf could make.

She knew the wolf was him, he was the wolf. Could see his soul shining out clearly through the deadly stare and snarl. Shifter. She got it now. True. Right. Predestined. The feeling that everything was as it should be filled Cora, powered her purpose. She followed the white wolf, anticipation and magic thrumming through her, funneling to her dagger. The magic was a tingle, rather like electricity, but not painful. She didn’t know what she could do with it, but possibilities stretched out before her, warming her, stirring her curiosity.

The wolf faltered, slowed, then finally stopped. Cora stopped also, looking around. Had they lost the vampire? She felt around inside her. The anger and rage were leaking away, more every second, and she knew the vampire was moving away from her. She swept her knife hand in the direction the connection between her and the vampire seemed to come from. “Find him! That’s your job, right? I know you can smell him still, you’ve got his trail. I can see it in your face.”

The wolf only stared, his back as tall as her shoulders, ears perked behind him, away from her. He was as big as a bear, but looked nothing like one.

He shook his head, almost human-like. He wasn’t saying he couldn’t follow the vampire. He was saying he wouldn’t.

Her connection with the vampire weakened again, then broke. Why? Why would Jameson let the vampire get away from them?

When she realized why, she turned, heat blasting from the top of her head, rage boiling in her chest. She’d never been so angry in her entire life.

He wasn’t protecting her, he was coddling her, chaperoning her.

He didn’t think she could do it.

She turned on her heel and ran back the way they had come. Not to his cabin. Only away from him.

***

Jameson had grabbed his clothes and run after her, but Cora was faster than the human him and made it through his house and down his driveway before she even slowed to a walk, resonant back in its sheath at her hip. She hit the quiet mountain road and turned left, heading down the grade. It was twenty miles back to town and she might just walk it, as livid as she was.

He followed, pulling on his clothes as he went, but with no boots on his feet. Nowhere near the punishment he deserved. He called to her from behind. “Cora, please, let me drive you home.”

“I’m fine,” she spat at him, slowing to a walk and pulling her phone out of her pocket. She had service. Nice. She stabbed the Uber app with her thumb, entering her location. The app pinged at her, distressed. A green button asked if she really wanted to order this car to the middle of nowhere? Fuck yeah, she wanted someone to haul their ass all the way up to her and drive her home. “Charge my fucking credit card, bitch,” she snarled, stabbing at the phone again.

She looked at Jameson triumphantly, holding up the phone so he could see the screen. “There’s an Uber dropping someone at Black Bear Outfitting in two minutes, so don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair in less time than it took for you to screw me over!”

“Cora, I’m sorry. I should have found him for you.”

“Yes,” she said, firmly, but with less venom in her voice. “You should have.” She watched him for a moment, trying to measure if he would do it differently next time. The way he looked down, then away, told her everything she needed to know. He knew he was wrong, but he would do the same again.

Shit! She ran a little, pulling ahead of him on the darkened road. The Uber came and she jumped in it, grateful to get away. She couldn’t even think, she was so mad. She didn’t look back once, but she was unable to pull her thoughts away from him.

The worst part about all of it was that the very day she'd finally accepted she was a vampire slayer, received her special resonant weapon and embraced her destiny, was the day she learned that the one guy she gave a shit about didn’t think she was strong enough to do the job.

She was done. Over him. Finished chasing him around like a teenage girl with a crush. It would be hard, since they were going to be working together, but she could do it.

It was going to hurt, though, because she was in love with him.

Cora pulled into herself and watched the road slide by as her driver followed his phone’s directions to her house. Away from the forest, from Jameson, when really, with him was the only place that felt like home.