A Vampire's Salvation Page 2

  She flinched under her boss’s scrutiny. “He asked me about the cabin. Turns out he didn’t know about his grandmother’s death. I figured his family and the bitch wouldn’t be bothered to tell him, but I thought the lawyers would have.”

  “Maybe you should have kept that particular fact to yourself until he had time to get his head around being out of prison.”

  At least Ambrose sounded more disgusted than truly angry when he added, “But then it was probably only a matter of time before it all overwhelmed him.”

  She nodded her agreement. “Not to mention the prison had been feeding him only outdated blood for the gods know how long. There are laws regulating how much of that crap they can give the prisoners and how old it can be. It’s just one more thing I’ll be investigating once our boy here is completely in the clear.”

  Her boss’s fangs flashed as he spoke, punctuating the anger in his voice. “Damn straight.”

  Her own were on display, as well, making her wish she could be alone with that scum warden for five minutes. He’d think twice about mistreating someone like Cord again.

  “Do you want help getting him out of those clothes?”

  Ambrose shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. You go get some sleep. You’re going to need to be at your sharpest to deal with his clan. I can stay with him awhile to make sure he’s all right.”

  “Okay. I’ll be next door if you need me for anything.” Or if Cord did. Especially if Cord did.

  She wanted to be the one to stay, but couldn’t risk giving her boss any more reasons to suspect that her interest in Cord’s case was anything more than professional. The truth was she’d been fascinated by Cord Kilpatrick from the very beginning. Fresh out of training, she’d been one of the investigators on his case fifteen years before when he’d first been charged with murdering his business partner. Unlike the head investigator, Olivia hadn’t believed Cord was guilty even then, but hadn’t been able to prove any different.

  Once he’d been convicted—sentenced to death but with the mandatory stay of execution—she’d volunteered to oversee his case. For the past fifteen years, she’d visited him in prison four times a year, twice the norm required by law.

  At first she’d been hoping that he’d remember something, some small detail that would either break the case wide-open or at least convince her that he was actually guilty. Watching his hope for a reprieve slowly die over the years was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.

  Later, she visited because she suspected that she was the only one who’d ever bothered to make the effort. He never seemed particularly happy to see her, but at least he accepted the few things she’d brought him—cookies, books, magazines. It got harder to face him each time knowing that she only served as a reminder of the world that had turned its back on him.

  Normally she took pride in her job, knowing most of the time the Coalition legal system worked. Her clients who were sentenced to prison deserved to be there, with Cord being the sole exception.

  He’d been different from the very beginning. All through the trial he’d held his head high, cooperating to the fullest, depending on the legal system to give him justice.

  Yeah, and look where that got him. That trusting expression in his eyes was long gone, replaced by bitter suspicion, except for a small hint of warmth whenever he called her Livi. His face, while still handsome, was all sharp edges now, carved that way by the brutal life behind bars. His body was muscular, but too lean for his frame, thanks to the poor prison diet.

  He moved wrong, too. Even with the shackles gone, fifteen years of shuffling along in chains might be a hard habit to break. Some things he’d get back, like his natural born grace, but some were gone forever.

  She made quick work of getting into bed and turned out the light. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was that the man who’d haunted her dreams for fifteen years was just on the other side of the wall. Maybe now that she’d gotten him out of prison, she might finally get him out of her system.

  Cord jerked awake. What the hell? Habit had him forcing his body to relax while he assessed the situation. Something had torn him out of deep sleep, but the question was what? His fangs ran out, his fists clenched, and his instincts were running on full alert. It finally hit him: the sounds were all wrong.

  Cord’s heart banged around in his chest while his brain tried to come to terms with his surroundings. Slowly, the details came into focus. He wasn’t in his cell on his cot. Instead, he was sleeping in a regular bed, one with clean-smelling sheets and a real pillow. That’s right. Livi had brought him here to Ambrose’s house.

  The quiet that surrounded him was disturbing. No one was snoring; no one was crying in their sleep; no one was screaming for help that rarely got there in time. Violence had quickly become a way of life in prison, to the point it became normal to wake up at night to find out his next-door neighbor had been killed during the day.

  Sitting up, Cord ignored the lamp by the bed, preferring the darkness protected by the lockdown shades on the windows. He sensed it was bright daylight outside, but obviously Ambrose had put him in a room that was safe for a vampire to sleep in.

  He didn’t remember going to bed, much less stripping off his prison clothes. There was a gap in his memory starting about the time he and Livi had started up the steps. What had happened after that?

  Finally, it all came flooding back. His grandmother had died, leaving Cord her cabin on the family estate. He bet the relatives loved that, but then maybe they didn’t care. Once he died, it would revert back to the family and they probably hadn’t foreseen a day when he’d come strolling home a free man.

  He was a free man. How was he supposed to get his mind around the idea? He crawled out of bed, needing to walk off some of the weirdness. The thick carpet felt foreign to his bare feet, his toes digging into the plush fiber. The prison was concrete and iron bars with nothing soft to ease life inside. He paced back and forth in the room, never quite reaching the far side.

  It dawned on him that in his head he was back in his cell with only seven feet between one wall and the other. Not only that, his steps were the exact length of his shackles. He stopped moving for a few seconds, and then forced himself to take a long stride and then another until he reached the farthest point in the room. His fingers trembled as he touched the wall before turning around to make the return trip.

  After a few rounds, he felt better, more relaxed and in control. He’d give himself another few minutes and then maybe see if he could get back to sleep.

  A soft knock on the door froze him in place, waiting to discover who it was.

  “Cord, are you okay?”

  Damn it, it was Olivia. “I’m fine. Just restless.”

  “Okay, good night.”

  He listened to the soft sound of her bare feet padding back into her room next door. His mind filled with images of her climbing into bed, her pretty hair mussed and her eyes sleepy. Just what he needed. Wasn’t it bad enough that he’d wasted hundreds of hours thinking about her over the years? Wondering what kind of lover she was. How she’d feel under him in bed, calling his name as their bodies joined and he drove them both hard and fast. Now she was only a few feet down the hall, but it might as well have been concrete walls and iron bars.

  Exonerated or not, he’d be the last man on earth she’d take to her bed. Livi probably had dozens of men standing in line to date her, not to mention she had her career to think about.

  He stared at the door for a few seconds more before he started walking again, taking another handful of laps just for good measure. By the clock, he still had several hours before he had to be ready to leave with Olivia—or Livi, as he preferred to think of her.

  It made her seem more of a woman and less of the Coalition executioner she really was, like maybe she’d made some of those long treks to the prison to visit Cord the man, not Cord the convict. His hands itched to know if those short, silvery curls were as soft as they looked, if her s
kin was as satin smooth as he’d always dreamed it was.

  Damn it, he shouldn’t be thinking of Livi—no, make that Olivia—at all. It only screwed with his mind, and he’d need all his wits about him to get through tomorrow and all the days after that.

  He crawled back into the bed, tugging the covers up to his chest and breathing in the scent of fresh sunshine and soap. As the silence settled around him again, he could almost swear that he heard Livi’s soft voice call out, “Sleep well, Cord.”

  “You, too,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 4

  “So what are you thinking about so hard, Cord?”

  Livi passed a slow-moving truck before glancing over at her silent companion, wondering if he’d even heard her question or was just choosing to ignore her. As if feeling her gaze, he slowly turned to face her.

  “I’m thinking maybe we should rethink this whole mess. I appreciate my grandmother’s gesture of support, but it’s not like anyone else will be throwing a welcome home party for me. Yeah, you’ve already put through the paperwork to clear me of the murder, but you know how the clans are. Understandably, vampires have long memories. I’m not guilty of murder, but I am guilty of dragging the family name through the dirt. That taint is probably only just starting to fade. They won’t appreciate me stirring it all up again.”

  Wow, that was the most words he’d strung together at one time since she’d first picked him up.

  She changed lanes again. They were only a few miles from the turnoff to his family estate. It was understandable that he was starting to have a few qualms about what lay ahead for him. That didn’t change what she had to do.

  “Cord, I can’t worry about what your family thinks. I have an investigation to run, even if I step on a few toes along the way.”

  She shot him a quick look. “Besides, once we’ve nailed the killer, none of this will be hanging over your head anymore. Then you can do what you whatever you want, even make a fresh start somewhere.”

  Maybe even with someone, but she left that part unspoken.

  The lights of the dashboard cast Cord’s face in eerie relief. She wished there was something she could do to ease the pain and hurt behind his grim expression.

  He sighed and looked out the side window. “I’m assuming you’ve got a suspect in mind.”

  Rather than tell him her own suspicions, she changed the subject. “We’re almost there. You’ll have to give me directions to the cabin.”

  The level of tension coming from Cord’s side of the car ramped up big-time. He leaned forward, staring out into the night at the entrance to his family home. One glimpse of the pure hunger in his eyes had her looking away. It was a private moment, not one meant to be shared.

  His voice was low and rough. “Turn right and then stop. I’ll have to see if my old code still works. If not, we’ll have to push the buzzer. Somehow I can’t imagine them opening the gate once they know it’s me.”

  She pulled up to the keypad. “Do you want to get out to enter your number or do you trust me enough not to go blabbing it all over the district?”

  She’d meant that last part as sort of a joke, but his only response was to rattle off a series of eight numbers.

  When the gate immediately rolled open, his shock was obvious. “I would have thought they’d have deleted me five minutes after the jail door closed.”

  It was odd. “Or maybe they don’t hate you as much as you think they do.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s why I haven’t heard a word from any of them in fifteen years.”

  She winced. “Sorry, Cord. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Not a problem. Follow the road to the right when it splits. Drive on for another mile, and the cabin will be on your right. It’s set back off the road quite a distance, but you can’t miss the pair of gargoyles at the end of the driveway.”

  His smile looked a bit rusty. “Grandmother always said they watched over her. I used to climb on them and pretend they’d fly me anywhere I wanted to go.”

  Then he settled back against the seat again and closed his eyes. He was so quiet she almost thought he’d drifted off to sleep, but then he spoke.

  “And for the record, Livi, you’re the only person I trust right now.”

  All was quiet when they reached the cabin. Cord climbed out of the transport, but made no move toward the front porch. Too many memories and too many nightmares had him all tied up in knots. Luckily, Livi didn’t push him, instead letting him take all the time he needed.

  “I spent most of my childhood in this cabin. My parents preferred the nightlife in New Eire to living in the country. Me, I was always happier here. Maybe if I’d never left, my life wouldn’t have gone to hell so quickly. The clan’s finances were a wreck, though, and I had to live in New Eire to stay on top of things.”

  He didn’t want to know what Livi thought about that. “I’ll grab the bags.”

  She followed him around to the back of the transport and popped the trunk. After he retrieved their suitcases and headed for the front door, she followed behind him with the box of groceries they’d brought. He made a second trip back for the big cooler of blood that Ambrose had provided for him. It wouldn’t last Cord more than a few days, but then he didn’t plan to be there that long.

  Inside, he stood back to watch Livi’s reaction to his grandmother’s home. It was just as he remembered it, which surprised him. According to what Livi had told him, it had probably been vacant for at least two years.

  “Somebody’s been taking care of the place.”

  The chancellor blushed. “You’ll find out anyway, but just so you know, your family contested your grandmother’s will. When the judge turned them down, he also ordered them to maintain the cabin until you decided what to do with the place.”

  “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that.”

  She didn’t respond, which was answer enough. Instead, she asked, “Which way’s the kitchen?”

  “Through that door.”

  He set the luggage down by the stairs that led up to the loft and followed Livi. While she put the perishables in the refrigerator, he checked the cabinets for supplies.

  “If you’re hungry, I make a mean omelet.” Then he frowned. “Or at least I used to. It’s been a while.”

  “Sounds good.”

  While he busied himself getting the ingredients together, he was painfully aware of Livi watching his every move. Thank goodness his grandmother never rearranged anything, so it didn’t take him long to have bacon frying and the eggs ready for the skillet. When Livi seemed relaxed, he pounced.

  “So you think Francine is behind Dwayne’s murder?”

  The chancellor merely smiled. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure that out.”

  He turned the bacon. “There were only three people directly involved in the finance business Dwayne and I started. He’s dead, and I didn’t do it. That leaves Francine. I don’t know if I believe she would be capable of murder, but you must have your reasons for suspecting her. What are they?”

  Livi sipped the tea he’d made. “She never broke the engagement contract. I kept wondering why when most vampires would have done so at the first hint of a scandal.”

  Cord had wondered the same thing himself. “The last I heard, her clan had almost died out. Maybe her clan leaders pressured her to maintain the connection to mine.”

  Livi stared at him over the rim of her mug. “Sorry, but from what I’ve heard about Francine, I don’t see her as the type to martyr herself for her clan. Besides, there isn’t a court in the Coalition that wouldn’t have declared the contract null and void if she’d wanted out, with or without her clan’s approval.”

  After giving him a few seconds to mull that over, she did some pouncing of her own. “Did you know that she’s now the CEO of your clan’s business holdings?”

  Okay, he wouldn’t have seen that one coming. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “After they found Dwayne
’s body, I finally read the fine print of your betrothal papers. Seems there was a clause inserted in the standard contract that would only come into play if you were to die before the marriage was…um, consummated after a legal marriage ceremony.”

  Livi blushed, her eyes dropping down to stare at her tea before she continued. “Seems Francine would retain the same rights she would’ve had as your wife. Once you were convicted and sentenced to death, she invoked that clause. The bottom line was that it gave her control of everything. Not just your private business holdings, but also your controlling percentage of your clan’s financial dealings.”

  When she looked up at him again, her pale eyes were ice-cold. “Seems your loving fiancée has a real cutthroat talent for getting rich, especially when she does it using other people’s money. There have been complaints in the clan, but legally there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.”

  He thought about that as he cooked the omelets. “That’s such a different image of her than I remember. But you’re right, something doesn’t jive. I would never have agreed to a clause like that. Are you sure it’s part of the original agreement?”

  The badass chancellor side of Olivia’s personality was definitely at the forefront right now, her fangs showing when she smiled. “We’re checking into that. I wonder how she’ll react when she learns her long-lost fiancé is back among the living and therefore legally back in control of the Kilpatrick finances. By the way, that ruling is part of the official decision by the judge who remanded you to my tender care. Things could get interesting.”

  Cord’s own fangs ran out to full length. “Interesting is one word for it.”

  The truth was he was less interested in Francine and the clan’s money than he was in the amazing possibilities of being in Livi McCabe’s tender care.

  An hour later, the dishes were done and the sky was getting lighter in the east. Too late for any of the dear relatives to come calling, which was an immense relief. They were probably huddled together trying to figure out how best to banish him from their midst. Tomorrow would not be any fun at all, and he’d need to be at full strength to face that bunch, not to mention Francine. It was time to go to bed, unfortunately alone.