
A Vampire's Vindication
Alexis Morgan
Keelie Bronson and Griff Tyler have been adversaries for years, locked in legal battles and enmity over Keelie's belief that Griff was responsible for her father's death. But when Griff's control over his vampire clan comes under attack, Keelie may be the key to clearing his name.
When Griff and Keelie finally meet face-to-face, neither of them are prepared for their fierce attraction. Soon, a moment of weakness unleashes a passion that cannot be denied. But Keelie still wonders: is Griff a good man, or is he the monster she always believed him to be?
Chapter 1
"The daughter's already on her way home?"
"Yes, sir. Keelie started back as soon as she heard."
To buy himself some thinking time, Griff refilled his glass from the carafe of blood on his desk. Well aware of the half-blood chancellor watching his every move from the video screen, he sipped the O neg with a calm he wasn't feeling. The blood gave him an excuse for his fangs to show other than sheer temper.
From the day she'd left the clan to work for Lydia Bronson, his cousin Dorothy had been ordered to maintain silence about their family connection. So far, she'd held to their bargain.
"Are you sure Lydia will tell her?" He flashed his canines at the screen. "And, cousin, I will know if you're lying."
Dorothy's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Lydia has been refusing all of her medications to keep her head clear, and she's quit confiding in me. Even so, I think her intent is to tell her daughter everything."
"Keep me posted."
Griff disconnected the call, deciding he'd showed amazing restraint by not bashing the computer against the wall. Son of a bitch, the timing couldn't have been worse, but then Lydia had never been concerned about the devastation her rash actions had caused others.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for patience. He was already under attack on another front. All he could do was hope that Lydia managed to quietly pass into the next world without adding to his problems.
But knowing her, that was probably too much to wish for. Stubborn didn't come close to describing that chancellor when it came to her own agenda. Hell, her arrogance would have done a pureblooded vamp proud. Lydia Bronson would hold off the specter of death with nothing but sheer willpower until she was damn well ready to go.
He considered his options. If he were to show up at her house uninvited, maybe he could stave off the impending disaster that would ensue if she broke silence after all these years. Damage control was everything.
With Lydia about to die, that left him the only other person who knew the truth behind the events of twenty-five years ago. Maybe the past could be laid to rest for good. Then again, perhaps not.
Griff studied the file he'd spread out on the desk, his eyes once again drawn to the pictures of Lydia's daughter, Keelie. Her looks favored her late father Kenneth more than her harpy of a mother except for that distinctive eye color: not quite amber and not quite brown, but somewhere in between, like the color of fresh caramel, rich and sweet.
Not that Bronson women of either generation were either of those two things. Lydia worked, but her part-time teaching job at a small college didn't pay enough to maintain her lifestyle. To make up the difference, she'd been feeding off his finances for years.
Then there was the daughter, an environmental scientist and a born crusader. She'd scrutinized every enterprise his clan was involved in since she'd finished college. Keelie had kept Griff on his toes, knowing that she was waiting to pounce at the first hint that any of his clan's actions threatened the native flora and fauna.
Although it certainly pissed him off, he admired her persistence. It was her way of striking back at the vampire she held responsible for her father's death. Oh, yes, if Lydia opened her mouth, his world wouldn't be the only one to be turned upside down. Keelie Bronson was in for a major shock.
Rather than watch his life unravel from a distance, he'd confront Lydia and try to talk some sense into her. Soon the sun would set, and he'd be on his way.
Keelie slammed her transport into Park and ran for the house. She hadn't slept more than a handful of hours in three days as she'd hiked, flown and then driven like a madwoman to get back home. Exhaustion burned like acid in her brain, leaving room for only two questions.
Had she made it in time? And how would ever she forgive herself if she hadn't?
The front door swung open before she was halfway to the porch. Dorothy, the family housekeeper, stood framed in the doorway. There was no need to ask if the past few days had been hard on her. It was written there in the slump of her shoulders and the sorrow in her eyes. Even so, she answered the question that Keelie couldn't find the words or the courage to ask.
"She's waiting for you."
Relief tasted sweet. Keelie slowed to a stop after reaching the porch, reluctant to enter the house. Once she crossed that threshold, brutal reality would have to be faced, acknowledging her mother was dying.
Leaning back against the railing, she struggled to compose herself. It wouldn't do to go charging into her mother's bedside in a full-out panic.
"Tell me what happened."
Dorothy glanced back over her shoulder before joining Keelie outside, pulling the door closed behind her.
"Saturday she worked in the garden. She always says digging in the dirt soothes her spirit after a week full of dealing with fools."
Dorothy and Keelie exchanged smiles. They both knew Lydia had zero tolerance for idiots or incompetence. It was one of the things that Keelie shared with her maternal parent.
"When I looked out, she'd collapsed. The doctor had warned her to take it easy because the lymphoma had progressed to the point that this could happen at any time."
Shock sent a painful jolt straight through Keelie. "When did he tell her that? Why hadn't she told me?"
In fact, why hadn't Dorothy?
"Your mother doesn't tolerate weakness in anyone, least of all herself. I would've told you myself, but she threatened to fire me if I did."
Dorothy's eyes filled with tears. "Seriously, Keelie, the way she was acting, I've been afraid she'd actually throw me out in the streets."
"She wouldn't have." Maybe. One of the symptoms of the disease was erratic behavior bordering on paranoia.
Dorothy stared out toward where the sun was slipping down beyond the horizon. "There's nothing to do now except keep her comfortable. She's been refusing any pain medication, claiming she needed to keep her wits about her until she talks to you."
The housekeeper gave Keelie a considering look. "Whatever she wants to talk to you about must be powerfully important."
Each word stabbed like a dagger into Keelie's heart. It was bad enough that she'd been off playing when her mother's illness took a turn for the worse.
"I don't have any idea what it's about. Do you?"
"No, she quit confiding in me months ago." The hurt in Dorothy's voice was obvious. "We used to be friends."
Keelie threw her arms around Dorothy and gave her a fierce hug. "You're still her friend, Dorothy. It's the disease talking, not Mom."
Dorothy stood back, her hands on Keelie's shoulders. "How did you grow up to be so smart?"
"I had the good fortune to have two terrific role models, Dorothy. You and Mom."
It was time. Facing what was waiting for her inside wasn't going to get any easier.
"Is she in bed?"
Dorothy nodded. "She's too weak to sit up more than a half an hour at a time, but maybe seeing you might perk her up some."
Keelie braced herself. "Look, I'll sit with her for a while. Why don't you take a break?"
Dorothy led the way back inside. "I do have errands to run. I won't stay gone long, though, and I'll bring dinner back with me."
"Dorothy, you're a godsend. Go run your errands and then relax awhile."
The older woman still hesitated. "Are you sure?"
Keelie forced herself to nod. "We'll be fine."
That was a lie, and they both knew it. Nothing would ever be fine again.
Chapter 2
Keelie stood over her mother's bed in the gathering darkness, her heart breaking. The strong, vibrant person she'd always known was gone, replaced by a frail ghost of the woman Lydia Bronson used to be. Her life could now be measured out in hours and minutes, and the clock was ticking. Soon Keelie would be alone. Yes, she loved Dorothy, but it wasn't the same. She and her mom had been close and for good reason.
After her father's brutal murder, they'd turned to each other for comfort. His killer had never even been brought up on charges for her father's death. Because Griffon Tyler was a member of a wealthy vampire clan, no one had questioned his claim that the death had been accidental. For Keelie's father there had been no justice, no vengeance, no retribution. She closed her eyes and fought against the familiar burn of hatred.
Because of that vampire, Keelie had grown up without a father, and her mother had grown colder as the years had gone by. Maybe it had been the disease that destroyed her mother's smile, but more likely it had been grief and bitterness.
"Mom."
No response. Keelie would've been scared, but she could sense the faint flutter of her mother's pulse. The only question was if her mother was asleep or if she'd slipped into a coma. Did she really want to know which it was? No, but walking away wasn't an option.
Touching her mother's shoulder, Keelie gave it a light shake. "Mom, I'm back. Dorothy said you wanted to talk to me."
This time her mother stirred, her eyes fluttered, then opened wide to stare up at Keelie. At first there was nothing but confusion reflected in their amber depths. Keelie gave her mother a few seconds to gather herself.
Finally, there was a glimmer of recognition and her mother's mouth offered a hint of a smile. "You're back."
She gathered her mother's frail hand in her own. "Sorry it took me so long to get here."
"Dorothy?"
"She's out running errands. She won't be gone long, but she just left."
"Good." Lydia struggled to sit up. "Must talk."
Keelie lifted her mother up enough to tuck another pillow behind her. Even that much effort left the older woman struggling to breathe.
"Take it easy and rest, Mom. We can talk later after dinner."
Her mother grew more frantic, more insistent. She squeezed Keelie's hand with a chancellor's strength. "No! Now. Before she's back. Dorothy will tell him. I know she will. She doesn't know I heard her talking to him."
Him? She must mean her doctor. He'd warned them that the natural progression of the lymphoma could bring on paranoia and unexplained agitation. Keelie fought to present a calm façade to her mother, hoping to soothe her fears.
"Mom, please, Dorothy is your friend. She'd never do anything to hurt either one of us."
Lydia's head jerked back and forth, adamant in her denial. "She works for him. I know she's been lying to us. You need to know the truth about everything. Before it's too late. I'm so sorry. My fault. Should have said something before now."
"Said something about what?"
Tears trickled down her mother's papery cheek. "That night. Back then...seemed right. But the lie spun out of control."
Feeling shaky herself, Keelie sank down to the floor next to her mother's bed. She brushed her mother's hair back from her face, buying herself a few seconds. Dread settled in her stomach, sending cold shivers of fear scattering along her nerves.
"What night, Mom?"
Although she knew. There was only one night that could carry such dread weight in her mother's voice.
"You know. That night. When I...when Kenneth...death and blood. So much blood." As the words faded away, her mother licked her lips and her eyes lost their focus, perhaps seeing the past so much more clearly than the present. Just as quickly she was back, looking at Keelie with burning intensity.
"I left a letter. It explains everything. Tell him...sorry, so sorry."
Her mother paused to catch her breath. When she didn't continue, Keelie prompted her, knowing her mother wouldn't rest easily until she got it all out.
She couldn't mean Keelie's father. Surely she wasn't that confused. "Tell who you're sorry, Mom?"
Lydia started to speak and then her eyes widened in horror as a deep voice answered the question for her.
"I suspect she means me."
Keelie lurched to her feet, planting herself firmly between her mother and the vampire standing in the doorway. Her fangs dropped down as she stood ready to defend them both if he took one more step into the room.
Griff didn't know whether to laugh or applaud Keelie Bronson's determination to protect her mother from him. Not that he'd make the mistake of underestimating her. The North American Coalition employed chancellors to police both humans and vampires for good reason. She might just be able to take him in a fair fight, but then he never fought fair.
Right now Keelie hovered on the brink of attack, those caramel-colored eyes boring straight into his in full challenge. His own predatory instincts bubbled to the surface. Under other circumstances, he might've tried to coax her into channeling all that high-octane emotion into a different, more pleasurable direction.
Right now, if he even so much as hinted how aroused he was by her display of temper, she'd be on him, no holds barred. He eased back half a step, forcing his shoulders to drop and his hands to dangle at his side, hoping she'd accept that he posed them no immediate threat. Slowly the tension sizzling in the air between them settled down to a more manageable level. Barely.
"Who the hell are you?" she snarled.
He arched an eyebrow and offered her a small shrug. "Don't play games, Keelie. Even if we've never spoken in person, Lydia's reaction should tell you who I am."
He let a hint of his own fangs show when he spoke. "Besides, considering all the injunctions you've filed against me over the past few years, I can't believe you don't recognize me."
"Griffon Tyler."
Lydia whispered his name, the words so faint that only those with vampire DNA would've been able to hear them. Her daughter certainly had. Keelie flinched and stepped back closer to her mother.
"Don't worry, Mom. Mr. Tyler is leaving."
Griff leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "No, actually I'm not."
He hated to ramp up the tension again, but he wasn't going anywhere before they settled a few things. Damn Lydia for putting Keelie through all of this. If the woman had dealt with their mutual problem sooner, Keelie wouldn't be the one stuck in the middle.
Keelie glanced at her mother before turning her angry gaze back in his direction. "You will leave and leave now. Can't you see that she's sick?"
Damn, he hated the pain in Keelie's voice, the one innocent in all of this. "We'll compromise. I'll go as far as the living room."
Before he did, though, he had one more thing to say. "Lydia, she's going to find out. Wouldn't you rather she hear the truth from you?"
As he spoke, his hand reached out toward the daughter in a futile attempt to offer her some kind of comfort. She clearly wasn't interested. He couldn't blame her.
On his way out, he gave her his parting shot. "Come talk to me when you're ready."
Then he walked away before Keelie could argue the point any further.
Chapter 3
Griff Tyler was no longer in sight, but Keelie could still feel the power of his presence echoing throughout the house. She'd actually taken a couple of steps as if to follow him before catching herself. Staring at the empty doorway, she wondered at her strong reaction to the vampire. He certainly wasn't what she'd expected. In the past, they'd dueled via legal documents, never over the phone or in person.
Certainly, his arrogance had come across quite clearly in their correspondence, but that hadn't prepared her for the impact he'd have on her senses. Her own temper had heightened her awareness of him as he'd filled the doorway with his tall frame and broad shoulders. He wasn't the pretty-boy spoiled heir she'd pictured. Instead, he had those predator's eyes that saw too much and a nose that had been broken once too often, making his face rugged rather than handsome.
She doubted he smiled often. But when he did, she bet it was devastating, especially with that impressive set of canines he was sporting. She shivered.
Her mother drew Keelie's attention back to her. "Keelie."
Lydia's hands worked the edge of the blanket, clearly agitated.
"Mom, what is it?"
Although she didn't want to know. Once again she knelt at her mother's side, wishing all of this would just go away.
A strange calm settled over her mother's expression, erasing years off Lydia's face. Her eyes dropped to half-mast, her hands still at last. When she spoke, there was a resurgence of strength in her voice.
"I'm sorry, Keelie. I was a coward then, and I'm a coward now. I loved your father, and I love you. I see so much of him in you."
Her hands went back to tugging at her covers. "I left a letter in my desk. You know, the secret compartment. Remember the game we used to play so you'd know how to open it?"
Keelie nodded. The hidden door could only be released if the desk drawers were opened and closed in the right sequence.
"Good. Find the letter. Read it. Take any questions to Griff. He'll know the answers. He's strong."
"Mom, you're scaring me."
On so many levels. She knew a goodbye when she heard one, but was her mother really asking her to trust the vampire she'd spent the last twenty-five years reviling? Was this the disease speaking? Somehow Keelie didn't think so.
She captured her mother's hands, hoping to calm her. They were cold, too cold. Lydia stared up toward the ceiling, a smile slowly spreading across her face.
"Kenneth, I knew you'd come."
The words floated on a whispered breath---and then her mother breathed no more.
The cry of anguish had Griff running for the bedroom. He'd sensed the nearness of Lydia's death, but doubted Keelie had. She'd been too intent on understanding her mother's confused words to realize that Lydia had been slipping away.
When he reached the bedroom door, he found Keelie huddled on the floor, her chest heaving with huge, wracking sobs. Dorothy would've been better suited to comfort the young chancellor, but his cousin had yet to return. Griff did the only thing he could think of. Grabbing a quilt, he wrapped it around Keelie and then muscled her up off the floor.
He hated---HATED---dealing with a woman's tears, but it would take a lot bigger bastard than he was to drop Keelie in the other room and bolt out the front door. Cursing himself for a fool, he settled them both on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her as she soaked the front of his shirt with her grief.
After a few seconds, he began rubbing her back with one hand, mumbling a bunch of nonsense, hoping the tone of his voice would soothe her even if his words didn't. When the torrent slowed to a stop, he loosened his hold on Keelie, but she made no effort to move away.
"Keelie?"
She'd fallen asleep.
"I'll be damned." He studied the lump of female passed out in his lap. "Now what do I do?"
If he were careful, he might be able to lift Keelie off his lap. At least then he'd be able to track down Dorothy and contact the authorities to report the death. But Lydia wasn't going anywhere, and Keelie obviously needed a few minutes of oblivion to deal with the situation. Why else would she let down her guard around her sworn enemy long enough to fall asleep? He cradled her closer and let her doze.
A short time later Keelie finally lifted her head, her face still blotchy from crying. Her eyes blinked in surprise, as if confused about how she came to be on his lap. He relaxed his arms, allowing her to decide what to do next, hoping she'd make up her mind quickly before he did something stupid. Like kiss her.
Too late.
Griff took it slow, brushing his lips across hers, offering comfort, tasting her tears, and wishing the circumstances were different. He was hardly an innocent when it came to the female of the species, but this was different. Through the growing fog of passion, he fought to put a label on what he was feeling. No luck. The best he could come up with was that somehow she just fit: in his arms, on his lap, maybe in his life.
No, don't go there. Under the circumstances, it was understandable that emotions would run hot. That was no excuse for letting his imagination rampage out of control. He was just feeling overprotective. After all, Keelie's late father had been Griff's best friend. Despite his differences with Lydia over the past twenty-plus years, he'd kept an eye on his boyhood friend's daughter, but always from a distance. Not like this, crushing her against his chest, his tongue down her throat.
But damned if he could find the strength to stop, to call a halt to this headlong rush of heat. He brushed his thumb across the soft skin of Keelie's cheek. Reluctantly, he lifted her off his lap, trying to ignore the brief flash of hurt in her caramel-colored eyes.
He was never at a loss for words but found himself struggling to string together even a simple explanation as to why they needed to stop. "Keelie, we can't...we shouldn't."
Then a noise outside gave him that final push of common sense. "Dorothy's back."
With more regret than he could believe was possible, he walked away.
What had she been thinking? Her mother dies and what does she do? Jump the vampire who killed her father? Keelie's face burned in shame. She watched as Griff Tyler stopped Dorothy to break the news. Two grocery bags hit the ground as the housekeeper reeled in shock. Her grief-stricken eyes looked toward the house as she listened to whatever Griff was telling her.
Finally, Dorothy slowly walked away from the vampire, heading for the porch. Griff remained in the yard, making a call. Keelie opened the door and enfolded Dorothy in her arms as they both dissolved into tears. When the storm had spent most of its fury, Dorothy drew a shaky breath.
"Griff said he'd make the necessary calls. I need to go see to your mom."
Now wasn't the time to ask Dorothy about Lydia's assertions that she'd overheard her old friend talking to Griff Tyler. That would come later. For now, they had a funeral to plan.
"I'll go with you."
Chapter 4
"Your mother will be missed."
"Thank you."
Keelie managed a small smile as she accepted yet another in a long line of condolences. Would the line ever end? She appreciated everyone honoring her mother's memory, but it wasn't as if Keelie knew many of them well.
Her emotions were stretched to the breaking point. It wouldn't take much to shatter her composure completely. Knowing that Griffon Tyler was lurking along the back edge of the crowd didn't help. He'd kept his distance, but she could swear she sensed every move he made.
She'd tried several times to catch him watching her. But each time her eyes had strayed in his direction, he'd been engaged in conversation with one of the other high-ranking pureblood vampires on the guest list. Griff was definitely working the crowd.
The question was why? What was he after?
None of that would matter if he would conveniently disappear from her life as quickly as he had appeared. Once she settled her mother's estate, Keelie would return to her job where the only contact she had with Griff was through his attorneys. But those same instincts that made her so good at tracking down threats to the environment were screaming that Griff was up to something. He might walk back out of her life, but it would be on his terms, not hers.
Her fingers strayed to her lips, as she relived that moment of weakness when she'd let him kiss her. That had been bad enough, worse was the knowledge she'd kissed him back and was still thinking about it three days later.
And of course, this time when she glanced in his direction, he was looking straight at her. Judging by his slight smile, he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. The egotistical jerk. She wondered again what was contained in the thick envelope she'd found in her mother's desk and what it had to do with Griffon Tyler and the events that had led to her father's death.
Since she couldn't be sure how much Griff had heard of her last conversation with her mother, she'd been reluctant to leave the letter in the desk. As soon as she'd had time, she'd removed it and now carried it with her for safety's sake. Eventually she'd find the courage to open it, but not today and maybe not tomorrow.
The last of her mother's associates paid their respects and then moved on. She thanked them for coming, but all she really felt was relief that she was done playing hostess. Or was she? A late arrival stood in the doorway, looking around the room as if he owned the place. She didn't recognize him, but there was no mistaking the vampire's arrogance and wealth.
He surveyed the room, his lip curled just enough to express his disapproval when he spotted Griff. Who was he? She rose to her feet. The tension between the two vampires spread across the room, making the other guests stir restlessly. Several made a discreet exit.
What was going on? Keelie started across the room, noting the instant that Griff realized she was on the move. He cut through the crowd, heading in her direction. Figuring better the devil she knew, she allowed him to intercept her. He offered Keelie his arm, leaving her no option to refuse without insulting him. She managed to maintain a calm demeanor, but just barely.
"So who is he and why is he here?"
Griff set a roundabout course through the crowd that would eventually take them by the newcomer. He stopped at the buffet table to pick up two drinks; blood for him, wine for her.
"My cousin, Becan Tyler," he finally answered when they were again on the move. "As to why, you'd have to ask him that. He avoids me."
She smiled at Griff over the rim of her wineglass. "One of those nasty little vampire family feuds we hear so much about?"
Griff's eyes turned icy. "A family disgrace is more like it. Becan is hoping you now have proof that would destroy my position in the family. If that happens, he inherits control of the clan's business holdings."
"And I'm supposed to think that's a bad thing?"
Griff's fangs flashed. "Damn straight it is. Trust me on that."
"I have no reason to trust you on anything, Mr. Tyler."
Griff's eyes hardened to the color of jade. "Fine, Keelie. I get that. True, I might be a coldhearted bastard, but Becan makes me look all warm and fuzzy. If you don't believe me, talk to the few humans who've managed to escape from his estate and lived to tell about it."
Despite her mother's strange behavior, Keelie hadn't forgotten Griff's ties to her father's death. She might have kissed the vampire in a moment of weakness, but the last thing she wanted was to be entangled in his clan's politics. She removed her arm from his and put some distance between them.
"Thank you for the information. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to greet my guest."
Chapter 5
Griff should just let her go. She didn't need him. After all, Keelie Bronson was all grown up, a chancellor in her prime. If Becan were the type to attack directly, she might even stand a fighting chance against him. Unfortunately his cousin had perfected the skill of the sneak attack. If Keelie somehow thwarted Becan's efforts to oust Griffon as clan leader, the bastard would kill her without hesitation, and her death wouldn't come easily.
Griff watched her approach his cousin, telling himself he was merely concerned for her safety, the same as anyone who might be seen as a threat to Becan's plans. That much was true, but Griff tried never to lie to himself. He'd spent the entire evening fighting the need to watch over her, to hover nearby, to find someway to drive away the shadows in those caramel-colored eyes. Maybe even kiss her again if the opportunity arose.
It would be better for all concerned if he kept his distance from both Keelie and Becan. His extended family hardly needed a fresh batch of gossip about the Tylers and the Bronsons circulating among the other vampire clans.
He'd already paid his respects by being there, which meant he could leave in good conscience. He'd wanted to talk with Dorothy about the letter Lydia had left behind but couldn't do that now. The last thing he wanted to do was draw Becan's attention to her presence. But come to think of it, he hadn't seen Dorothy since Becan had appeared. Good thinking on her part.
Elitist bastard that he was, Becan had made Dorothy's life a living hell when they were younger because of her mixed blood. As soon as she was old enough, she'd deserted the clan's stronghold to make a life for herself among the humans and other chancellors.
It was after the death of Keelie's father that Griff had encouraged Dorothy to apply for the housekeeper's position working for Kenneth's widow. The arrangement had worked out for both of them. She'd needed the job, and he'd needed her to keep an eye on things for him.
Unfortunately distance wasn't working for him now. He couldn't hear what Becan was saying, but Keelie's body language was all too clear as she emphatically shook her head and took a step back. Damn it, didn't the woman know never to show a sign of weakness to a predator?
Griff set his glass aside to free up his hands. The crowd scattered in front of him, showing a well-developed sense of self-preservation. No one in their right mind got in the way of a vampire on the hunt.
He openly displayed his fangs as he approached his cousin. Becan stopped talking as Griff headed straight for them. He smiled, but it wasn't friendly, especially with his own impressive set of canines fully extended.
Keelie looked back over her shoulder to see what had brought on the vampire's aggressive reaction.
"Griff, did you want something?" she asked.
Something in her voice caught his attention. It wasn't fear, at least not exactly. Relief, maybe. Either way, her eyes were pleading with him not to make a scene. For her sake he'd try.
"Keelie, I see you've had the questionable pleasure of meeting my younger cousin, Becan."
He met the challenge in the other vampire's eyes with a small smile. Becan hated being reminded of the three-day difference in their ages that had given Griff the decided advantage in the power structure within their clan.
Becan shrugged a shoulder. "I thought someone from our clan should offer their condolences to Miss Bronson, preferably someone who wasn't involved in the death of her father. Tell me, Griff. Any truth to the rumors that you were also present when poor Keelie's mother died?"
As he spoke, Becan's hand snaked out to brush against Keelie's cheek. She flinched, clearly hating the feel of his touch. She backed away, stopping only when she bumped into Griff.
Her eyes blazing, she glared at Becan, the tips of her own fangs showing. "You need to leave. Now."
The other vampire read her message loud and clear. Griff was welcome. Becan was not. This time his hand snapped out as if to slap her. She deflected the blow before Griff could do it for her. That didn't matter. Becan would pay for trying to harm Keelie.
Griff's rage burned hot. Between one heartbeat and the next, he slammed Becan against the wall, choking the bastard. How dare Becan touch her? Keelie didn't belong to him and never would. She was Griff's alone to claim. To protect. Griff's fangs ached to rip into Becan's throat and drain him dry.
Before he could act on the thought, Keelie grabbed his wrists, using her considerable strength to loosen his hold and allow Becan to suck in enough air to live. What a damn shame. A lot of Griff's problems would be solved if Becan breathed his last.
"Griff, I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but stop this now."
She glared at him until he released his cousin. Becan rubbed his throat and snarled. "You will both pay for this."
Keelie pegged Becan with a hard look. "Either walk out now or I'll toss you out. Right now, I don't really care which it is."
Becan jerked his head toward Griff. "If I go, he goes."
"That's not your decision to make." Keelie took a step closer to the irate vampire. "You weren't invited, he was."
Not really, but Griff wasn't about to argue the point, not when it meant he could stay. His cousin moved as if to go on the attack, but then clearly thought better of facing off against both a pissed-off chancellor and an enraged vampire. That showed more sense than Griff would have credited his cousin with having.
Finally, Becan's resolve broke. He quickly backed out of the door and disappeared into the night.
Becan's departure left Griff with a shitload of aggression and no handy target for it. He stepped outside, drawing a slow breath to test the night air to make sure Becan was really gone. Keelie joined him. Not good. His control was already shaky. With vampires, aggression was aggression, whether it was directed toward an enemy or a potential lover.
He looked around. No enemies in sight.
That left only one possible target: Keelie. The last thing he should be thinking about was taking her up against the brick exterior of the reception hall. At her mother's memorial service. What the hell was wrong with him?
Stupid question. His instincts were thinking how the soft curves of her body would cushion the powerful sex drive of a vampire lover whose temper was running hot. That her mouth, right now set in a grim line, was perfect for long, wet kisses and so many other things.
"You need to go back inside. Now." Before it was too late.
She got right up in his face. "One thing you haven't seemed to figure out, Griffon Tyler, is that I don't respond well to orders. Care to tell me what that was all about?"
Clan business was supposed to be kept secret, but she should know what she was mixed up in. "Becan wants to take over the clan and is looking for any ammunition he can find."
"And you just had to go toe-to-toe in front of my guests?"
"He started it."
Okay, that was real mature. At least his childish remark had softened Keelie's mouth, as if she were fighting the urge to grin. It also made her look ever so kissable.
"I apologize for dragging you into our family problems, Keelie. I won't apologize for going on the attack when he tried to hit you. Next time, I'll kill him."
She looked up at the moon overhead, as if praying for patience. Finally, she looked up at him. "Griff, I handle my own battles. I don't need you to fight them for me. Now everyone inside thinks you were fighting over me like two dogs with one bone."
He liked that she wasn't afraid to challenge him when she wanted to make a point. Unfortunately, it also had the effect of ramping up his predatory nature even more, taking it in a whole different direction.
Damn, his fangs burned to taste her life's blood, knowing it would pack a fiery kick. But not here, not in a parking lot. If he ever bedded Keelie---no, make that when he bedded her, it would be someplace private where he could savor each moment, making sure she took as much pleasure from their joining as he did. He let some of what he was feeling show, tracing the graceful curve of her neck with his fingers.
For the first time, Keelie looked a bit nervous. "Griff, what are you thinking?"
He tongued the sharp tip of his fangs. "You're a smart woman, Keelie. Figure it out."
She backed away in a hurry. Once again, she should've known better than to retreat in front of a vampire. He followed her step for step, not wanting to scare her, but unable to stop himself, not with the urge to mate clouding his head.
"Damn it, woman, stand still before I do something we'll both regret."
He closed his eyes and fought for control. Finally, he crammed the lid back on his temper. He stepped back and bowed slightly.
"I apologize again. Now go inside and make nice with your guests. When you leave, make sure you're not alone. I wouldn't put it past Becan to come sneaking back. He doesn't handle being thwarted very well."
"And you do?"
At least she was smiling. "I'm not sneaky. If I want something---or someone---I'm far more direct in my approach."
Those caramel eyes reflected both the moonlight and a bit of curiosity. "Is that a warning?"
"More like a promise. Now go before I rethink my decision to behave."
Then she surprised them both and grabbed his lapels to drag him down for a kiss. They were both breathing hard when she finally broke it off.
"That still doesn't mean I trust you."
Yes, it did or she'd never have let him stay, much less kiss him.
Rather than point that out, he said, "We still need to talk about whatever it was that your mother left you."
The light in Keelie's pretty eyes immediately dimmed. Perhaps a cloud had passed over the moon, but he was pretty sure that he was the one responsible for that flash of pain.
"I'll be at your house tomorrow sometime after sunset."
She jerked her head in agreement and walked back inside.
Once she was out of sight, he picked out a place where he could watch over the parking lot without being seen. Yeah, she could take care of herself, but it wouldn't hurt for her to have some backup in place. Just in case.
Chapter 6
Keelie stared up at the ceiling. After her alarm had gone off, it took her a few seconds to figure out exactly where she was. Finally, she remembered checking into the hotel just before dawn.
It had only made sense to stay in town rather than drive all the way back out to the house. Her aunt's attorney had approached her last night after the memorial service asking her to meet with him. With everything else going on, she'd tried to put it off until next week. But he'd insisted the matter couldn't wait, so she'd reluctantly agreed.
Something was definitely going on, but she had no idea what it could be. If it were just her mother's will, surely that could have waited a few days. Nothing was making any sense.
She'd been so tired that she'd barely taken note of her surroundings before tumbling into the bed and falling asleep.
Unfortunately, her dreams had been anything but restful. The image of Becan Tyler's fangs haunted her as he lunged at her throat. When Griffon thwarted his cousin's attack, the flash of his fangs had a totally different effect on her. After vanquishing their mutual foe, Griff had led her in a dance of celebration---as in some of the most amazing imaginary sex she'd ever had. Even now, she ached with the need to finish what her dream self had started. Or maybe she'd kick-started the dream herself by giving into the impulse to kiss Griff last night. What had possessed her to do something so foolish?
She closed her eyes against the confused torrent of emotions flooding through her. How could she be thinking of that vampire in those terms while knowing he'd been involved in her father's death? It made no sense. Had her mother been thinking clearly when she'd told Keelie to trust him? Was Griff a good man and not the monster she'd always thought him to be?
Thinking in circles accomplished nothing. It was time to make some plans. First, she'd get dressed and eat. Then off to see the attorney before going back home. She'd have the place to herself because Dorothy had requested some time off before returning to her duties.
The house would be doubly empty with both the housekeeper and Keelie's mother gone. At least she'd have some privacy while she sorted through things, deciding what to get rid of and what to keep. And maybe she'd finally find the courage to read the letter her mother had left for her.
Time to get moving.
Keelie dug her nails into the palms of her hands, needing that small bit of pain to convince herself that she wasn't caught up in a nightmare. No, she was really sitting across from her aunt's lawyer, who'd just succeeded in destroying her life.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Fogarty," she said, although why she felt the need to apologize for anything escaped her. "Would you repeat that?"
The elderly lawyer sighed and turned his eyes back to the document in his hands. "The aforementioned house belongs to the Tyler vampire clan. You have one week to evacuate the premises, at which time you will turn the keys over to their legal representatives. Failure to do so will result in immediate legal action."
Finally, he set down the thick sheaf of papers and took off his glasses. "I'm sorry, Miss Bronson. I've only been your aunt's attorney for the past five years. She never mentioned any of these arrangements to me. On the plus side, at least she did leave you a tidy amount in a trust fund, enough for a down payment on a place of your choosing."
He sighed heavily again. "As much as I'd love to tell you there's been a mistake, I can't. I've studied this file and even consulted with my partners. There are no loopholes and no explanations why the courts gave Lydia free use of the house for her lifetime."
That's because no explanations were necessary. It had been Griffon Tyler's way of assuaging his guilty conscience.
She was absolutely furious, but the attorney wasn't a suitable target for her anger. If her mother was still alive, they'd definitely be having words over this, but she wasn't. That left one person---Griff Tyler.
And she'd kissed the bastard. Twice. She fought the urge to scrub her lips with the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away all memory of his mouth pressed against hers. She settled for a breath mint.
Rising to her feet, she picked up the copies of the legal documents that Mr. Fogarty had provided her with. "Thank you for..."
Her words drifted to a stop because she couldn't think of one thing she was grateful for.
"I'll be going now."
He followed her to the door. "If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to contact me. I wish things could have been different."
"Me, too, Mr. Fogarty. Me, too."
Keelie parked her transport in front of the house that was no longer her home while she tried to decide exactly what it was she was feeling. It felt like---nothing. She was numb. She'd lost too much, too fast, for her mind to be able to process any more pain.
For the moment, all she could do was stare at the two stories of wood and glass where she'd lived with her mother since the death of her father. It had never occurred to her to wonder how her mother could afford such a place. As a child, she'd accepted everything at face value, but she'd outgrown that excuse years ago.
She couldn't sit outside all night. There was a ton to pack and not much time to do it. She'd called ahead to have a local moving company drop off a shipping container and a load of boxes.
Time to get started.
After grabbing her suitcase, she headed for the front door. About halfway to the house, the back of her neck started itching, as if someone was watching her every move. When she reached the porch, she set her bag down and slowly looked around, hoping whoever was watching her would think she was simply taking time to enjoy the spectacular sunset.
As soon as she turned, the feeling disappeared. If someone had been out there, he was gone now. Maybe she was being paranoid, but then considering how screwed up her life had become, she had good reason to feel that way.
Time to get the pile of flattened boxes inside and set the deadbolt. She'd feel a whole lot better with the stout thickness of the door between her and the outside world. After half a dozen trips carrying in the packing supplies, she locked the door and headed for the kitchen. She'd eat a quick meal before boxing up her life.
An hour later, she set her dish in the sink. She'd lingered too long over a simple sandwich. No more excuses. It was time to take that first hard step. After picking up a stack of boxes, she eased through the door into her mom's room. Bracing her load against the doorframe, she flipped on the light.
One look at the room and her lungs froze in her chest. The boxes slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor as she stared in shock at the chaos that lay in front of her.
What had happened? The drawers had all been upended on the floor, and the closet had been stripped bare. Even the mattress and box springs had been slashed apart, the stuffing thrown around the room like clumps of dirty snow.
One part of her was in fierce denial at the sight of so much damage, but her heart knew the truth. Far too much hatred and anger had gone into the total destruction for it to be a simple breakin. The intruder had been searching for something. She had to think he hadn't found it. That was the only way to explain the broken and battered remains of her mother's collection of porcelain wolves.
She knelt down to pick up the only one that had somehow escaped unscathed, drawing comfort from its familiar shape. When she could bear to look up, she studied the mess. Where to begin? Calling the police certainly, but they'd want explanations, ones she didn't have.
She'd check out the rest of the house and then decide what to do. Her chancellor hearing would've warned her if someone else was still inside. She peeked into Dorothy's room off the kitchen. Neat and tidy, just like always. Either the intruder didn't think Dorothy had anything worth stealing or else he'd run out of time to search her quarters.
Upstairs, Lydia's home office was a mirror reflection of her bedroom. There wasn't a single surface left unscathed, not an item left unbroken. Keelie ached with grief over so much wanton destruction as she moved down the hall to face her own room.
The door stood ajar. Even from a distance she could see the floor was strewn with a trail of debris. Gathering the tattered remnants of her courage, she took a leaden step forward. Things. They were just things. Not all could be replaced, but she'd still have her memories.
She pushed the door open with her fingertips, still hanging back as far as she could. Eventually she'd cross the threshold, but not yet. Maybe when she could draw a full breath. Maybe when the knot in her stomach loosened.
Maybe never.
Somewhere downstairs glass shattered. A second later, it happened again---closer this time. One more time and she was bolting for the stairs, her fangs running out and demanding a blood price from whomever was out to destroy her life.
She hit the bottom step as a cloud of black smoke came roiling out of her mother's bedroom. Thick and oily, it ghosted through the hallway, consuming all the breathable air. Its mate came slithering out of Dorothy's room, blocking the way to the back door.
Survival instincts took over, thinking for her when she couldn't put a coherent thought together. Choking when she hit the solid wall of smoke, Keelie dropped to the floor and crawled, hoping to buy the few seconds she needed to reach the front door.
Desperate with sure death dogging her footsteps, Keelie crawled over broken glass, grateful for the thick denim of her jeans. In the living room, she grabbed her purse and the overnight bag from the bench by the front door.
Only then did she open the door and go stumbling outside, leaving the nightmare behind her as she ran out into the darkness.
Chapter 7
Griff yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, sending his transport barreling toward the ditch. Even with his vampire reflexes, he only narrowly missed Keelie as she stumbled out in front of him.
Was she out of her effing mind running out into the road like that?
Then she wheeled around and dropped to her knees. His vampire eyes, better suited to the night than the day, saw all too well the tears streaming down her face as she hugged herself and keened in heartbreaking grief.
What was wrong? Sure, she'd just lost her mother, but that didn't account for why she'd choose to cry in the middle of the road. Even allowing for the fact there wasn't much traffic out this far, she wasn't that stupid. He slammed the vehicle into Park and took off running.
That's when he noticed her face was reflecting a red flickering light. He slowed to a stop in stunned silence. The crackle and pop of a fire raging out of control overrode the normal night sounds. The flames were licking at the roof of her house, the interior already an inferno. Hell, even her vehicle was burning.
He reached for his phone to call it in. It was obviously too late to save the house, but hopefully the fire department could contain the damage to the immediate area. If the flames reached the grasslands behind the house, there would be no stopping it.
While he provided the necessary information, he cautiously approached Keelie. She was clearly caught up in the throes of a powerful emotional meltdown. That was understandable, but it also meant she might not recognize friend from foe.
"Keelie."
No response other than her tears slowed. In stark silence, she stared at the raging dance of the fire lighting up the night. He stripped off his jacket and gently settled it over her shoulders, wishing there was more he could do to ease her pain.
He knelt down on one knee, putting himself at eye level. "Keelie, honey, are you hurt? Were you inside when the fire started?"
She drew a shuddering breath. He still wasn't sure if she really knew he was there, but then she spoke.
"Why would you burn the place, Griff? You ordered me evicted from the house, but the lawyer told me I had a week. Do you really hate me that much?"
Her words, an equal mix of anger and hurt, battered at him over the roar of the approaching fire trucks. He leaned in close to make sure she heard his response.
Gently cupping her chin with his hand, he tipped her face up just enough to make sure she heard him clearly.
"You haven't known me all that long, but that doesn't mean you don't know me well. I have three things to say, and you'd better damn well believe me."
He held up one finger. "First of all, I don't know a damn thing about any eviction notice."
Two fingers. "Even if I had wanted you to move, I wouldn't set fire to the place and risk destroying my only chance of reading that letter your mother left."
When he raised the third finger, he narrowed the distance between them until only a breath of smoky night air separated them. "And I sure as hell don't hate you."
Then he settled his lips over hers, letting his kiss speak of things he wasn't yet ready to put words to. She moaned under his gentle assault, her hands frantically seeking something to hold onto. He guided them up around his neck as he settled her against his chest. When she didn't fight his embrace, he slowly rose to his feet, taking her with him.
The fire department had turned out en masse. Obviously Griff's name carried enough weight to pull out all the stops. Within minutes the road and driveway teemed with men and women carrying axes and dragging hoses. At least no one offered false platitudes about their chances of saving anything as they hosed down the burned-out shell of her transport.
All she had left in her life was her purse and an overnight bag. Well, and a borrowed jacket and a vampire's arm around her shoulders. When she shivered, he pulled her in closer to his body. It felt good. Too good.
She had to be out of her mind. How did she go from mourning the loss of all that she had to once again kissing Griff Tyler like there was no tomorrow? As much as she'd like to blame it on a near-death experience, she couldn't. Terror may have sent her running into the night, but that didn't mean she should seek sanctuary in Griff's arms.
But that's exactly what she'd done and, what's more, she couldn't muster up either the energy or the desire to step away from him. Right now one of the yellow-coated firemen was looking in their direction, a chancellor, judging by the flash of fangs when he spoke to the fire chief. A second later he started toward them, his face grim, his dark eyes suspicious.
"Mr. Tyler, I'm Inspector Collins. I understand that you're the legal owner of this property even though Miss Bronson and her mother were the residents."
Griff nodded. "Actually, it belongs to my clan. As friends of the clan, the Bronsons were given use of the place years ago."
Friends of the clan? That was news to Keelie. Before she could say anything Griff gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. A warning? She casually stepped away, unwilling to let Griff control the conversation. Maybe the chancellor hadn't picked up on the silent communication, but Griff had read her message loud and clear.
Or maybe she was wrong about that. The investigator's eyes narrowed as he studied the two of them.
"Do either of you know of any reason that someone would burn down the house?"
Images of Griff's cousin Becan popped into her head, but once again he warded off anything she might have said. "No, we don't, Inspector."
The man clearly wasn't buying it. "How about you, Miss Bronson? Any problems with anyone? When you came home, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"
"I've been gone since early yesterday. When I came home I had the strangest feeling I was being watched." She shivered again. "When I didn't see anyone, I went inside."
He nodded and then pointed toward the shipping container. "I take it you're moving?"
"Yes." She stared past him at the smoldering skeleton of the house. "I stayed in town after my mother's memorial service ended to meet with her attorney today. I found out that she left me a small trust fund. I plan to buy a place of my own, so I ordered the container and boxes to be delivered. I've only taken a short leave from work and needed to get started."
"Why don't you walk me through everything that happened from when you got home?"
"I decided to fix a sandwich and unwind a bit, so I went straight to the kitchen. An hour later, I couldn't put off facing my mother's room any longer. That's when I discovered her room had been vandalized."
She stopped talking as the memory swept her back to the pain of that moment.
"Everything was smashed or ripped to pieces. Everything."
Inspector Collins looked up from the notes he was taking. "Did you call the police?"
Keelie shook her head. "I decided to check out the rest of the house first, so I ran upstairs. I would've sensed if the intruder was still in the house, so I figured I wasn't in any immediate danger."
"And was the upstairs vandalized as well?"
"Yes, everything was trashed, but I didn't get much of a chance to look around before I heard glass breaking downstairs. By the time I got back to the first floor, the house was already filling up with smoke. It came from several directions. I dropped to the floor and crawled out the front door."
Griff had been leaning against the side of his transport. He straightened up and rejoined the discussion. "Wasn't the back door closer?"
"Yes, but the smoke was coming from the back and both sides of the house. The front was bad, too, but clearer than the rest of the lower floor." She had a sudden urge to cough, maybe to clear even the memory of smoke from her lungs.
The investigator nodded and then continued writing for several seconds. "What happened next?"
"I got outside and ran as far as the road before I stopped to look back. I never saw anyone around the house, but then it was after dark at that point."
"When did you arrive, Mr. Tyler?"
Despite the calm way he asked the question, Keelie frowned. She didn't like the barely veiled suspicion in the inspector's voice. She might have her own problems with Griff, but still she defended him.
"He pulled up right after it happened. As I said, last night was the memorial for my mother. He'd promised to stop by right after sunset to see if I needed anything."
"She was kneeling in the road when I drove up. I damn near hit her."
As he spoke, Griff reached out his arm to her again. He might only be trying to present a united front to the authorities, but she allowed herself to sink into his side. If nothing else, the warmth of his body helped keep the chill of the night air at bay. Not to mention she'd reached the breaking point after a day full of shocks.
"If you don't have any more questions, Inspector, I'm going to call a cab to take me to a hotel."
He held out a card to each of them. "Here's my contact information. I've got both of your numbers when I have more questions."
Interesting that he said "when" and not "if." Right now Keelie was too tired to do more than wonder about what he might be thinking. When the inspector was out of hearing, Keelie pulled out her phone. Griff placed his hand over hers before she could dial.
"I'll take you to a hotel if you insist, but I'd feel better if you came home with me."
"Why?"
"The security is better for one thing. The other is I never sleep well in hotels, and I'll be damned if I'll let you out of my sight before we get to the bottom of this." Maybe she was crazy. She had no reason to trust Griff, but she liked that he left the decision up to her. Well, except that he planned to be right beside her no matter what. But the truth was she was afraid, deeply afraid, to be alone right now.
"Fine, but let's be clear about one thing---I'm sleeping alone when we get there."
"It's a deal. I'll put your bag in my vehicle."
He pressed a quick kiss on her cheek and walked away, leaving her second-guessing her decision and wondering about the gleam of satisfaction she'd seen in his eyes.
Chapter 8
Griff would kill the bastard that put the fear in Keelie's eyes. While dealing with the aftermath of the fire and all the questions, he'd kept a lid on his temper, but just barely. The last thing she needed to deal with right now was an enraged vampire intent on murder. But once he had her tucked safely away in his home, he'd start hunting for the culprit.
Becan better hope he had an ironclad alibi or he was a dead man. Griff glanced up at the sky and realized how late it was. The search would have to wait until tomorrow night. Right now he had more important things to do.
Like getting Keelie tucked up safely in his bed. Yeah, he'd promised she could decide where she slept. If she insisted on separate rooms, he'd live with it.
Griff carefully steered around the clutter of fire trucks and headed for his house on the Tyler clan estate. It wouldn't take long. As he drove, Keelie stared out at the darkness.
"I'm sorry this all happened."
"Did you torch the place?" she asked without looking at him.
A flash of hurt anger had his fangs running out. "Hell no."
Keelie finally turned in his direction, her own fangs gleaming whitely in the night. "Then you have nothing to be sorry for, do you? But, when I get my hands on the bastard who did, there'll be no quarter given. No matter who it was or what his last name is, blood will run."
He grinned. She was a bloodthirsty wench. He liked that about her. "Can I watch? Or help?"
"This isn't funny, Griff. Someone destroyed everything and for no reason."
He took her hand in his and kissed it. "No, it's not funny. I was smiling because you remind me of me. I was just thinking how much I was going to enjoying ripping the bastard into little bloody shreds."
"This is my battle, my duty."
He understood that as well. "And I'm on your side. Never doubt that."
As they drove through the security gates, he could feel her still watching him. She waited until he pulled into the garage before she finally responded.
"Just so you know, I do believe you."
Inside the house, Griff set the alarms and made a couple of quick calls. He had friends living on the outskirts of his estate whose special abilities made them well suited to the task of guarding his house in the daylight hours. They promised to come as soon as possible.
"Thank the pack for me."
When he hung up, Keelie was watching him, a curious look on her face. "The pack?"
He opened the fridge and pulled out sandwich makings for Keelie and a blood pack for himself. "It's, um, a nickname for a special security squad I use for daytime surveillance."
"What's special about them?"
"They're a canine team." True enough, except they worked with timber wolves, not dogs.
She accepted the sandwich he'd put together for her. "Thanks. I didn't realize how hungry I was."
He let her eat in peace, fixing her a second sandwich and then one for himself. After cleaning up the mess, he picked up her bag.
"Ready to go downstairs?"
An unexpected knock at the door had him dropping the bag and palming the gun he had tucked in his waistband. He motioned for Keelie to get back before he peeked outside. He jerked the door open and motioned for his friends to come inside.
"Keelie Bronson, meet Garrett and his partner Kipp. They'll be patrolling the estate while we sleep."
She started to smile but then she blinked and took a closer look at Kipp. "That's a timber wolf, and a big one at that."
Garrett grinned. "You've got a good eye. Most people just think he's a big dog, and an ugly one at that."
The wolf nipped at Garrett before shoving past him to lick Keelie's outstretched hand. Griff wasn't much for sharing, but that was the first real smile he'd seen on her face all day.
"He's not ugly. In fact---"
She pulled something out of her pocket. When she opened her hand, there was a small figurine of a wolf, one that was an exact match for Kipp.
"My mom and I collected these. We both love wolves." Her smile dimmed. "This is the only one that survived the destruction in my mother's room."
"Well, if you like wolves, you've come to the right place, Miss Bronson." Garrett shot a glance in Griff's direction. "Any time you want to spend time with a wolf, you just let me know."
Griff was going to wring his friend's neck for him. "Don't you have something better to do than stand around in my kitchen keeping me up? Or did you actually have a reason for being here?"
"We caught Becan's scent. He's definitely on the estate."
Keelie looked up from petting the wolf. "I get first crack at him."
The wolf woofed and Garrett laughed. "I think I'm in love."
Okay, enough was enough. "All right, you two, that's enough. Get going and find him. I'll catch up with you at dusk."
He shoved them out the door and threw the lock. At least the close-up encounter with the wolf had brightened Keelie's mood. Unfortunately watching her take such sensuous pleasure in running her fingers through Kipp's fur had him wanting to howl himself.
Time to go downstairs. Now, before he did something stupid like trying to coax Keelie into trying out the kitchen table. Despite his earlier plans, he knew she needed some rest. They both did. He'd offer her the guest room next to his bedroom, but that was as much distance as he could stand between them. He'd come too close to losing her, and he'd only just found her.
So tonight he'd sleep alone. But once the dust settled, all bets were off.
Keelie followed Griff down to the basement level that had no windows, no outside access to endanger him during the daylight hours. Maybe she should be thinking about something other than the way those jeans showed off that fine-looking backside of his, but she couldn't help herself. With her family history, she'd never expected to be attracted to a vampire, much less the very one rumored to have killed her father. Somehow, she knew there was more to the story than the few hints she'd managed to garner over the years.
Griff stopped halfway down the hall and opened a door. "This is your room. Mine is right next door. You should be able to find anything you need stocked in the bathroom."
When she started past him, he quickly backed away. His abrupt departure startled her and made her wonder at the reasons behind it. He'd certainly not been reluctant to touch her before this. She'd certainly expected at least another kiss. Maybe even hoped for another kiss or a reassuring hug.
Inside the bedroom, she set her purse on the dresser and got her first clear glimpse of how bad she looked. No wonder Griff hadn't wanted to kiss her. Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin and clothing covered in sooty streaks. She probably smelled as if she'd bathed in wood smoke and burned oil.
A knock at the bedroom door interrupted her pity party. She peeked out. "Yes?"
Griff shoved a stack of clothes at her. "I thought you might need something to sleep in."
She accepted the gift. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Then he was gone again. The vampire was a constant surprise. More than ever, she needed to know his truth. But first things first. A hot bath was calling her name.
When Griff finished his shower, he could still hear Keelie moving around in the room next door. Images of her soaking in the oversized tub, her skin slick with soap, had him hard and hurting. He groaned and leaned his forehead against the cool tile. He hadn't been in this constant state of sexual arousal since his teens when he first became fascinated with the female half of the population.
The phone rang, providing him with a welcome distraction. A few seconds later he slammed the receiver down. Somehow Becan had managed to elude Garrett and his pack. The vampire's scent trail had ended abruptly when it crossed a road. Their best guess was someone had picked him up. None of the gates had opened, so he was still on the premises.
For now, they were pulling back to Griff's house to reinforce the security there. He trusted his friends to keep him and Keelie safe for the next few hours, but come nightfall he'd hunt. He needed to end this, to lay the past to rest, because for the first time the future held something he wanted.
Would she never settle down? Every move Keelie made jarred Griff awake. He flopped over onto his stomach and covered his head with a pillow. No good. His nerves were scraped raw with the need to charge next door and demand answers or, better yet, demand satisfaction. Whatever kind she was willing to give him.
An unexpected sound had him jerking upright in the darkness. He reached out with his vampire senses. Someone was sneaking around upstairs in the kitchen.
He rolled up to his feet, prepared to defend his home and his woman. After easing his door open, he moved through the darkness toward the soft glow of light at the top of the stairs. At the bottom of the steps, he sniffed the air. One kind of tension drained away only to be replaced by another as he realized who he was tracking---Keelie. Vampires were predators at heart, and she was rapidly becoming his favorite prey.
He deliberately made noise going up the steps to avoid startling her. Even so, with her chancellor hearing she'd probably been aware of his approach since he'd left his room. She was already pouring a second cup of hot chocolate when he walked into the room.
Her eyes were so damn sad. "Sorry if I woke you."
He wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him. The warmth felt good, but it also gave him something to do with his hands besides hauling Keelie straight into his arms.
Her wearing his oversized T-shirt and flannel boxers shouldn't have been sexy, but try telling his hormones that. He kept the counter between them to hide his body's response.
He said, "The real question is what is keeping you awake?"
She stared down into the depths of her mug for several seconds. Even from across the room he could see the ripples dancing in her drink.
"I almost died today, Griff." Her smile trembled almost as much as her hands. "And I don't even know why or what I did to make someone hate me that much."
"Keelie..." He started toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him.
"Griff, we both know that whatever is going on started the night my father died." Her fangs were showing now. "I want to know what really happened. I deserve that much."
Maybe she did, but he knew she'd hate the truth once she knew it. Before he could say another word, she picked up an envelope and tossed it down on the counter between them.
He blinked several times. "Is that your mother's letter? I assumed it burned up in the house."
"No, I've been carrying it with me since the night she died, trying to find the courage to read it."
He didn't blame her for feeling that way. She'd lost so much in the past few days, but running from the truth never worked for anyone. He had his own selfish reasons for wanting the facts to come out, but he'd lived with the lies so long now he didn't much care what the rest of the world thought. Only Keelie mattered right now, and he wanted no more lies between them.
He walked around the counter, needing to touch her, to ease the pain she was already feeling and the rest that would come the second they opened the envelope. To his surprise, she met him halfway, her hands sliding over his chest.
"Kiss me, Griff. Please."
Damn, he had no business taking advantage of her when her defenses were down, but he needed her touch as much as she needed his. He kissed her soft and slow, fighting against his instincts to take her right then and there, fast and hard, claiming her as his own. It didn't help his resolve when she moaned and practically climbed him, ending up with her legs wrapped around his hips, her core solidly against his erection.
This had to stop. Afterward, they could pick up where they'd left off if she could still stand his touch. No more lies.
"Keelie, honey, we have to stop." He gave her a tight hug first, hoping she'd know that he didn't want to let go of her even though it was the right thing to do.
She froze in his arms, leaning back enough to look him straight in the eye. "You don't want this?"
His laughter held little humor. "More than you can possibly know. I'm skirting the far edge of crazy wanting you."
He supported her with one arm while he snagged the envelope off the counter. "We'll deal with this first. Ignoring it won't make it go away."
Then he carried her downstairs to his bedroom. They needed someplace quiet and safe to deal with the storm that was coming the second she read her mother's letter. Granted, the living room upstairs would've been more neutral territory, but the wolves were at the door. Literally. And although their sense of smell was their strongest sense, there was nothing wrong with their hearing.
He set her on the bed and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. After turning on enough light for her to read by, he sat down in the easy chair across the room, giving them both the space they needed.
"You read. I'll listen and then answer any questions that I can."
Chapter 9
Keelie winced at the sudden brightness in the room and stared down at the envelope in her hands. As long as the light was soft and the shadows thick, she could hide her embarrassment and pretend she hadn't practically begged Griff Tyler for some hot sex. But evidently her best efforts had been all too easy to resist.
"I wanted it, too, Keelie. I still do. Never doubt that."
Her head jerked up. Was he some kind of mind reader? Feeling more than a bit defensive, she lied. "It was a mistake."
There was a lot of heat in those grass-green eyes when he smiled at her. "Only in the timing. Once we deal with that blasted letter, and you even hint that you still want what we started in the kitchen, I'm all yours."
She swallowed hard and tore open the envelope.
Keelie read the letter once and then a second time. Finally, she looked up from the paper that had just torn her world apart. "She killed my father? You helped my mother get away with murder?"
Griff was up and moving before she even finished talking. He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his. She didn't know why she let him.
"Your father was my best friend. He died way too young, and I miss him to this day. Your parents went through a rough patch, and Kenneth made a mistake. When he confessed to having a brief affair, your mother lashed out at him. As a human, he was no match for the strength of a chancellor. By the time I got there, he was dead, and she was hysterical. Lydia was terrified they'd take you away from her. If the court didn't buy that it was an accident, they could've even executed her, leaving you an orphan."
He threaded his fingers through hers. "We staged it to look as I was the one who killed your father. With my clan's influence, the court ruled it accidental death and ordered that I support your mother for the duration of her life. Looking back, maybe we could have handled things differently, better somehow. But once we set things in motion, there was no going back."
But that wasn't all of it. How much worse could it get?
"Over the years, your mother slowly twisted the truth in her own mind. Maybe it was the disease, but somehow she decided I really had killed your father. She tried to get the courts to review the case, using my own money to pay for an endless line of lawyers and petitions. For the past ten years, my own clan has suffered because of the constant financial drain. That's what Becan's using against me to try to take control of the family fortune. If he could prove I murdered your father, Becan would get it all, and then God help us all. No one will be safe, but especially anyone who isn't pureblooded vampire, starting with my friends you met earlier."
The wolves and their owners? Heartsick, she held out the letter. "Here's your proof for the courts so you can clear your name once and for all. And, Griff, I'll pay you back every penny, beginning with the trust fund Mom left me."
She looked around for a clock. "The lawyer's office should be open. I'll call them now and get things started."
For the first time, she saw Griff angry.
He rocked back on his heels, jerking his hands free from hers. "I don't need your damn money, Keelie. There are only two things I want, starting with keeping the people I care about safe."
His hands settled on her thighs, spreading them far enough apart enough for him to settle between them. The blatant move sent a jolt of heat bubbling through her body.
She suspected she knew what else he wanted, but she needed to hear the words. "And?"
He leaned in, crowding her. "And I want you. You okay with that?"
Where had the air in the room gone? She settled for nodding. As soon as she did, he tugged her down off the edge of the bed to straddle his thighs. His hand tangled in her hair, angling her mouth to mate with his.
And for the first time in days, maybe in forever, Keelie's life felt right.
Griff couldn't stand another second without getting skin-to-skin with Keelie. He'd always been in control. Not this time. He wasn't going to just pleasure her, he was going to claim her in every way he could think of. Take her every way he could, branding her with his touch, with his body.
As much as he loved kissing her, he needed more and soon, before he lost his mind completely. When he broke off contact, she pouted, her lips red and swollen. Oh, yeah, he wanted more of that, but not yet.
"The bed offers more possibilities," he told her as he tugged her flannel boxers down as far as he could before lifting her back up onto the mattress.
Then he peeled them the rest of the way off. Her scent taunted his control as her racing pulse had his fangs aching for a taste of her life's blood. Each thing in turn. He cupped her full breasts through the soft cotton of her shirt. She sighed and leaned back on her hands, a siren's smile on her face.
"I want you naked, Griff. Naked and up here with me."
Who was he to deny an invitation like that? He stood up and dropped his sweats. When his cock sprang free, she gasped in what he hoped was a combination of appreciation and anticipation.
"Ooh, let me get a good look," Keelie said.
Then she scooted to the far edge of the mattress just out of reach. That so wasn't happening. He crawled after her, a predator intent on claiming his mate. He caught her ankle and dragged her back to where he could take his time.
He captured her other ankle and lifted both high over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her right thigh, grazing her soft skin with the sharp tips of his fangs. His woman clearly liked that. He repeated the maneuver with her left leg, leaving her moaning and him so hard he hurt.
Positioning himself to join his body with hers, he held back. "I've been waiting a long time to find my mate."
He rocked against her, testing and teasing them both. "This is a claiming, Keelie. Make no mistake about that."
He pressed even deeper. "Do you understand? Because I keep what's mine, Keelie, and you are mine."
Those caramel eyes were running hot as he thrust deep and hard. "I claim you, Griff Tyler. You're mine, too."
Then she held out her arms, pulling him close and arching her neck to the side, offering him everything she had to give. He pressed a kiss to her pulse point as the pounding rhythm of their hearts and bodies reached a crescendo. Then, as a blinding ecstasy burst over them, he sealed their connection by tasting the rich flow of her blood and then offering her his vein in return.
Griff shifted away from the woman sleeping curled up next to him, trying not to wake her. Neither of them had actually slept much, but he wasn't complaining. Their life together was definitely starting on a high note.
But there was still the problem of Becan and whoever had set fire to Keelie's house with her still in it. This time when his fangs ran out, it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with vengeance and retribution.
He'd let Keelie sleep while he went on the hunt. He reached for his jeans and a clean shirt. Before he could get dressed, Keelie was up and heading for the bedroom door.
"Griff Tyler, don't think you can leave without me. It will only take me a minute to throw on some clothes."
He caught her arm. "I'd rather you stayed here where my friends can keep you safe. I hunt better alone."
"If we're mates, we're partners. Deal with it."
She punctuated her declaration with one of those long, hot kisses he'd already become addicted to.
"You don't fight fair." He kissed her again, almost giving into the temptation to head straight back to the bed.
But the distant pounding on the door upstairs put that idea on hold. Garrett wouldn't be disturbing them this long before sunset without good reason.
"Meet us in the kitchen."
Keelie nodded, and then she was off and running.
Chapter 10
When she reached the kitchen, Griff was making coffee and talking to Garrett. Tension was definitely running hot in the room. Even the wolf was on full alert, his ruff standing at attention.
"What's happened?"
"They're pretty sure Becan's gone to ground some distance from here. We have to hurry if we want to get there before the sun sets, and he can take off again."
Were they forgetting what even the dying embers of the sun would do to Griff?
"But how can you go out in the daylight?"
"I'll ride in the trunk until we get there. By then, the sun will be down."
"Okay."
That might take care of one problem, but she knew facing a cornered vampire wouldn't be easy, even with backup. It was doubtful he'd come at them with just his fangs. But it was time this ended. For the sake of greed alone Becan had trashed her home, robbing her of the memories it had held.
A few minutes later, they all piled into the transport, Griff curled up and uncomfortable in the trunk. Keelie sat in the backseat with a pair of wolves while their handlers rode in the front with a pile of weapons. Evidently she wasn't the only one concerned about cornering a desperate vampire.
The ride took almost thirty minutes. When they drove the transport off the road and into a clump of trees, the top edge of the sun was just barely visible on the distant horizon. The instant it dropped out of sight, Griff popped the trunk and climbed out.
He did several stretches. "Remind me not to make a habit of traveling that way."
Garrett held out an assortment of firearms and a couple of knives. "Here you go, boss."
"Got any extras?" Keelie asked, surprising both men.
"Sure." Garrett offered her a pair of automatics. "Take your pick."
She chose the bigger of the two, checking it over with the ease of familiarity. All three men, and apparently even the two wolves, watched in amazement.
Garrett grinned. "I'm guessing that's not the first one of those you've held."
She gave them a smug smile. "Nope, and I've got the marksmanship medals to prove it."
Griff wasn't happy. "Just remember, targets don't shoot back. Aiming at another person isn't the same."
"I haven't shot anybody, but I've spent much of my professional life out in the wilderness. I've had to defend myself a time or two against varmints."
When one of the wolves growled, she added, "Most had two legs. The few that didn't, I aimed high. None of them were wolves."
When the wolf padded over for a head scratch, she laughed. "I swear, these two seem to actually understand every word I say."
Garrett grinned at her. "You have no idea."
Griff wedged himself between her and the wolf, giving the animal a dark look. "Back off, furball. She's mine. Now let's get going before Becan bolts again."
They fanned out and started forward, the wolves ranging ahead, their noses to the ground. Just over the next rise, Kipp stopped and tested the night breeze. When he growled low and deep in his chest, the other wolf joined in. Griff's two friends joined the animals, their eyes gleaming oddly in the moonlight.
What had they found? She inhaled deeply and knew the answer. The night air carried the scent of death.
Becan was dead. Griff knew it as well as he knew they were walking into a trap. The pungent smell of old blood and dead vampire made it impossible to pick up any other clues as to who was waiting up ahead. Using hand motions, he signaled for the pack members to circle around behind the cluster of boulders.
Keelie eased up next to him as they waited for the men to get in position. "Griff?"
"I'm guessing Becan isn't the one who burned the house down."
He looked down at her. If his suspicions were right, Keelie was in for another shock. "The night of the fire, you never realized anyone had been in the house until you actually saw the damage. Is that right?"
At first she seemed puzzled by his question, but she slowly nodded. "That's right. The scents were normal---Mom, me, and Dorothy."
Her eyes widened. "Dorothy? You think Dorothy burned the house down? Why would she do that?"
The woman in question answered herself. "I wanted to destroy everything Lydia held dear."
Dorothy strolled into sight behind Griff, a rifle pointed straight at Keelie. Cousin or not, she'd just signed her own death warrant. No one threatened Griff's mate and lived. No one.
Keelie's voice rang with pain. "But why? You and my mother were friends. You were family."
"No, actually I was your father's mistress. He promised to leave that bitch for me. Instead, she murdered him in cold blood and your lover covered it up. She never suspected who I was or what I'd meant to Kenneth."
"Why would you work for her all these years?"
"It's easier to poison someone when you cook her meals. I wanted her to suffer long and hard for what she took from me."
Keelie gasped. "She wasn't sick? That was your doing?"
Dorothy looked proud of herself. "It took me a long time to find the perfect poison, one that acted slow and mimicked a disease. No one ever suspected. At least right up until the end. I knew she'd hidden a letter for you. I couldn't risk anyone finding out, so I burned everything."
"The letter had nothing to do with you. And why kill Becan?"
As she spoke, Keelie shifted slightly farther away from Griff, making it harder for the other chancellor to watch them both at the same time. He mirrored her movements, putting even more distance between them.
Dorothy's lip curled back off her fangs, only emphasizing the crazed look in her eyes. "I proved to him once and for all which of us was the superior being. Of course, by the time he believed me, he was only a breath away from dead."
Griff's turn to keep the conversation going. "Okay, I understand why you'd go after him, but why me? Why Keelie?"
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. "I can't afford any loose ends. Griff, you've always been decent to me, so I'll make it fast and easy for you. But either way, you're going to die along with Keelie. A lover's quarrel, you know. Kind of funny, history repeating itself that way."
She brought the gun to bear directly on him, clearly thinking he was the bigger threat.
Keelie stepped toward the housekeeper, her own gun aimed at Dorothy and momentarily drawing her full attention. "Pull that trigger, Dorothy, and you're a dead woman. Walk away while you can."
"You don't have the guts to kill, Keelie. I do."
Just as she pulled the trigger, Griff charged forward, ignoring the burn of the bullet grazing his shoulder. Dorothy was so intent on taking another shot at him, that she missed the blacker-than-night body leaping through the air as Kipp latched onto her wrist and bit down.
Her scream echoed through the night. It only lasted long enough for Griff to finish the job his furry friend had started.
"Hold still."
"But that hurts."
"Most gunshots do."
Keelie pressed the last piece of tape in place. "I still think you should see a doctor."
"I'll heal."
She turned away, trying to hide the tears. She'd cried more in the last week than she had in her entire life. She was tired of it.
Griff caught her around her waist and pulled her down in his lap. Careful of his sore shoulder, she buried her face against his chest.
"I was terrified out there, Griff. For all of us."
He held her tight. "I know, but it's over now. We're safe now."
Yeah, she was. "I know."
But there was still something that needed saying. "Griffon Tyler, as the sole remaining representative of the Bronson family, it's my duty to make reparations for the trouble we've caused you."
Her lover jerked as if she'd hit him. "Damn it, Keelie, I've already told you I don't want your money."
She let her hands do a little wandering. "Yes, you made that perfectly clear. I was thinking of paying you back in some other way. I'll have to make installment payments. Lots of them."
His breathing picked up its pace, his pulse racing to keep up as her hand slid down between them.
"I'm sure we can work something out. Of course, you'll have to live here with me to keep up the payment schedule."
She adored the deep growl in his voice. "Only if you admit you love me as much as I love you."
"I'll even put it in writing. Tomorrow, though. Right now, I think we should work out the details."
The heat in his eyes had her wanting to purr. "I'm up for it if you are."
"Oh, rest assured, I am."
Then he set about proving it to her.
Don't miss the other spooky and sensual NOCTURNE BITES, available at www.ebooks.eharlequin.com and wherever eBooks are sold. Titles include:
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Looking for more paranormal romance? The sizzling and spine-chilling books of Harlequin Nocturne are available at www.eHarlequin.com or your local bookstore.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-6528-2
A Vampire's Vindication
Copyright © 2010 by Patricia L. Pritchard
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