Broken Heart: Visitor's Pass (Paranormal Boxed Set) (Broken Heart Paranormal Series Book 0) Read online

  Ren leapt in front of me. I leaned against the RV and tried to catch my breath. Aw, shit. Those daggers were poisoned. I pressed a hand against the wound, hissing as acidic pain jolted through me.

  Ena screamed and scuttled back, as did the rest of her followers. “Deamhan fola! The devil’s own! You have aligned yourself with hell’s minions, Meckenzie.”

  “Oh fuck you,” I muttered. I wanted to toss the dagger right into her throat. The Gaelic words meant ‘blood demon.’ Mom told me that deamhan fola, AKA vampires, were like humans, some were bad and some were good. Never allow prejudice or ignorance to make your decisions for you, Meckenzie. The soul is what’s important. Not the form it inhabits.

  Enough of this crap. I tucked the dagger into the belt loop of my jean shorts. Then I took my place next to Ren, my gaze on Ena. Why hadn’t she and the others attacked? She had more weapons than those daggers. Not only could she cast nasty spells, but she was also a powerful telekenetic. If she wanted to, she could probably topple the RV right on top of us.

  Ren stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I fit snugly against him. God, he was so muscular. To feel his strength envelop me, protect me—I wanted to crawl inside that feeling and stay there. I had known love, but never safety. And Ren made me feel safe.

  “Hold on,” he whispered, his lips grazing my earlobe. My stomach jolted at the light, sexy touch. I grabbed his arms tightly, not sure what to expect, but I was all in.

  We shot up into the sky, higher and higher and higher … until the white-robed figures looked liked scurrying albino ants. The air temperature dropped and cool wind rushed through us, ruffling hair and chilling skin. Flying. We’re flying. I clutched Ren’s arms. I had seen—and done—some really weird shit in my life. But shooting along the star-strewn sky in the arms of a beautiful devil? Not even I would’ve believed it possible. We slowed to stop, hovering several hundred feet above the ground. My heart climbed into my throat and pounded there, a throb of fear and of wonder.

  “You will not fall,” he said. “I will not let you go.”

  “Okay.” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Why can you fly?”

  “I am part sidhe.”

  A fairy? I almost laughed. That would explain his ethereal beauty. And it would also explain how he’d managed to sneak up on me while I was blubbering next to the Geo. When I was a little girl, my mother had introduced me to a fairy—a beautiful woman with fiery red hair and forest-green eyes.

  Her name was Brigid.

  Below us stretched the small town of Broken Heart, Oklahoma. Nestled in a little valley surrounded by rolling green hills and pockets of dense forest, it was just a square of big and small buildings crisscrossed by streets. Other neighborhoods, with small houses and tiny lawns, dotted the outside of Broken Heart.

  “We gonna stay up here all day?” I crooked my neck to look up at him.

  His gaze glittered, but I couldn’t decipher the emotion. The left corner of his mouth quirked and revealed a dimple. “Maybe,” he said.

  “What about Ena?”

  “Others are on the way to deal with her. She should not have been able to get into Broken Heart. We have too many security measures.”

  Guilt stabbed me. I looked away, down at the ground, and wondered how far the drop would be. Enough to take me out? Or just enough to make me suffer?

  “Broken Heart seems nice,” I said. “I’ve never lived anywhere for long. You start liking a place, crap starts piling up. Too much to carry around.”

  “What I need to carry,” he said softly, “I carry in my heart.”

  I wanted to tell him that he was a big ol’ corn-dog and that those silly lines only worked in romantic comedies starring Sandra Bullock, but his sincerity could not be denied. And his words sounded so much like what my mother might say that I accepted them as truth.

  “Is Brigid far?” I asked, looking up at him once again.

  He tilted his head in a manner that suggested he was listening to something in the distance. Ah. Vampire telepathy. Awesome. I watched moonbeams dapple his handsome face. The lunar light shimmered in his gold eyes and I felt my heart leap at their beauty. At his beauty. He grimaced. “Ena and her followers escaped. You were right about her serious mojo.”

  This time, guilt fluttered on razor wings, cutting at me.

  His gaze drifted over my face. “You are safe, Meckenzie.”

  The hell I am. I turned to face the view of Broken Heart. Ren’s arms tightened around me—a warning or a comfort, I didn’t know.

  Then we took off, flying north.

  “THANKS,” I said as I accepted the coffee from Queen Patricia Marchand. I sipped the java. Its rich, hot taste settled me, made me feel human again. Sorta. There was still the question of what kind of poison had laced Ena’s dagger. I didn’t think she’d want to kill me just yet, so my bet was that something really nasty was coursing through my veins. If I was lucky, that initial salvo of pain was all there was, but if I knew Ena, then I was no doubt in for a world of hurt. But right now, I could handle the twinges of discomfort.

  The queen leaned back on the couch we shared and looked at me. She was still assessing me. Was I worthy? Was I not?

  Questions I fought with daily.

  We sat in a plush living room filled with warm colors—gold, bronze, dark green, the occasional splash of red. The bottom half of the walls were paneled with burnished cherry wood while the upper portions were painted dark yellow. The fireplace was cherry wood, blending into the paneled portions of the wall. It wasn’t in use—who needed a fire in August?

  “This is a gorgeous room,” I said. “Those paintings … Monet?”

  She glanced at the paintings on either side of the fireplace. “Hell, if I know. Some hoity-toity interior designer came in and decorated the hell out of this place. Except for the rooms upstairs. Those were mine. About gave the guy a heart attack, too.” She grinned. “He said my taste in furniture was vulgar, my color schemes unrefined, and my lack of vision interfered with the flow he was trying to create for the house.”

  “Where did you bury the body?”

  She chuckled, but there was a little flash of fang.

  “Meckenzie,” said a familiar, though not French, voice. “We retrieved your car. It’s outside.” I put the cup onto the table in front of me, then stood up and turned. The person talking to me was not Ren, though he looked nearly the same. “Is there some sort of cloning plant around here?”

  The man’s eyebrows shot up. “We are triplets. I am Gabriel Marchand. You’ve met my brother, Ren, and my sister, Anise.”

  “Yeah.” I squirmed for a second. “Where’s Ren?”

  He’d airlifted me to the front door of this house, newly constructed by the look and smell of it, then took off—by bursting into a bunch of gold sparkles. I admit I was impressed, a little. Mostly, it was annoying. Do you know how many museums I could hit if I had that power? Huh. Probably better I didn’t. I wasn’t exactly good at denying myself.

  Which brought me back to the yummy problem of what to do about Ren. As in, what to do to him. Heh.

  “Ren and Anise told us you stole something from Ena,” said Patsy. “Who’d you steal it for?”

  Gabriel rounded the couch and sat next to his wife. So, he was the lucky consort of the queen of lycans and vampires. He looked a lot like Ren, but there were subtle differences. I decided being bunched up together on the sofa with two powerful paranormal beings was a bad idea. So, I picked up my coffee and grabbed a chair to the left of the table. I sat down, pretending a casualness I sure as hell didn’t feel, and sipped the java.

  “I’m afraid that’s confidential,” I said.

  “I could pluck it from your mind,” said Patsy. “Or glamour you and make you tell me.”

  “Sounds fun. Go ahead and try.”

  She stared at me for a long moment then she laughed. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”

  “It was a paid gig, okay? I got a shitload of money to
get that jewel from Ena. I probably should’ve asked a few more questions, but I was blinded by all the dollar signs. And I’ve done harder jobs for less money. Hell, I could retire if I wanted.”

  “Are you retiring?”

  I shrugged. I liked the game too much to stop playing. They didn’t know it yet, but I was playing an even more dangerous game right now. What was I thinking, going straight into a nest of vampires and other parakind? If they found out why I was really here … shit. I was toast.

  But I had no choice. Maybe if Brigid could help me, I could reverse what I’d done. Fix it somehow. I sipped and sipped the coffee because I didn’t want to talk.

  No, I didn’t want to lie.

  Memories flashed. In the forest. The camper behind us. Sitting on a worn log. Staring at the fire in the pit, enjoying the last of our dinner, laughing about old jokes. Shadows surrounding us…

  “Run, baby! Run!” My mother’s voice. Screaming. I took off. I was fast. Had always been fast. They broke off, chasing me, screeching. Then they dissipated, like smoke … then reformed to wiggle away into the forest. I circled around, returning to the camp site.

  I would save her.

  I would save my mother.

  They danced, their warbling metallic cries tearing at me like claws. In the middle of their wavering shapes, I saw my mother. Collapsed next to the dying fire like a tossed rag doll, her throat had been ravaged. Her glassy eyes stared at me, her mouth opened in a final scream … and her blood, bright as spilled rubies, flowing, flowing…

  “Meckenzie?”

  The French-tinted voice snapped to my mind into the present. I was breathing hard, tears gathering, and heart racing. Ren stood next to my chair staring down at me. Was that concern lurking in that golden gaze?

  I couldn’t deal with more guilt, more regrets. I let anger fill the hole inside me. Why did I care? Why? To care about anything or anyone was foolish. “Well, look who it is.” I put my empty mug onto the coffee table—on a coaster, of course. I’m not a complete heathen. “You find Brigid?”

  “No,” he said quietly. He glanced at his brother and sister-in-law. “We found out how Ena entered our borders.”

  I didn’t break eye contact. As vampires they no doubt heard my increased heart rate, and my slight intake of breath. Adrenaline started pumping, and I felt my hands curl into fists.

  “Yeah?” I asked in a bored tone. “How?”

  His expression went cold. “You let them in.”

  My gaze stayed on Ren. “Where’s Brigid?”

  His jaw clenched. “You are not denying that you allowed Ena into Broken Heart.”

  I had no choice. But I couldn’t say the words. Excuses, lies, justifications. My gut clenched. I hadn’t much cared about the way I was living my life after my mom died. I was in survival mode for a really long time. I wasn’t interested in forming relationships. Caring about people meant risking loss, and I was too much a coward to put my emotions on the line. Even though Ena had forcibly attached the tattoo and the accompanying spell that allowed me inside—and therefore her and her cronies inside, too—I had willingly placed myself at the town’s border. Maybe I would’ve walked away, or changed my mind … but Ena had sent the shadows, and made sure I followed through.

  I felt the tension emanating from Ren as well as from Patsy and Gabriel. I had the uneasy feeling that they would have me captured and secured before I took my next breath. Hurt jagged my gut. Even now, I felt connected to Ren. I liked him. I wanted him. Still, I could almost taste his fury. It surrounded me, pummeled at me. I felt unaccountably sad, like I’d ditched a primo opportunity. Oh, Ren.

  What does Ena want?

  I kept my expression neutral. Shit. Thinking Ren’s name had apparently opened a mental door and allowed him inside my head.

  He waited, his gaze locked on mine, and I felt my lungs slowly deflate.

  I don’t know. I sent the words tentatively. I’d never done the telepathy thing before. It was kinda cool. And weird.

  His nostrils flared, his lips curling just enough to remind me that somewhere inside him lurked a wolf.

  I don’t know what she wants, I sent. But I can tell you why I did it.

  I am not sure that matters.

  The why always matters, I sent, offering another wisdom gem dropped by my mother. She was smart and kind and deserved a better daughter. I was trying to be that for her, but I was failing. I was pretty good at failure.

  Ren and I stared at each other. He stepped close enough to be able to reach down and grab me, but he didn’t try. I heard a heavy step to my right. Ah. Gabriel preparing to wrestle me to the ground, apparently. Like Ren would need help with that.

  Then Patsy uttered, “Wait.”

  I felt her mate’s pause, his impatience.

  Go ahead. Tell me why. Ren’s thought was tainted with fury. I flinched inwardly, but held steady.

  She has my mother’s soul. She promised to release it if I got her into Broken Heart.

  Ren’s gaze widened in surprise, and I heard him mutter something in French under his breath. “Tell the queen,” he said. His expression hardened. “And do not lie.”

  I wanted to be offended, I really did, but I was in trouble because of my choices. I was running out of time and options. All I had left with the truth, and the very tiny sliver of hope that these people would help me. “Five years ago, my mother was murdered. By those fucking shadows. After they killed her, they converged on her and took her soul. I’ve been searching for them, for her soul, ever since. My mother was a good person; she deserves to move forward into the next life, or wherever good people go.” Not that I would ever know that place. I wasn’t exactly a good person.

  “You tracked down Ena,” surmised Patsy. “And took what she prized most in the hopes that she’d trade it.”

  I turned and gaped at her.

  “I read a lot of mystery novels,” she said drolly.

  “And is Brigid part of the deal, too?” asked Ren.

  “No,” I said, casting him an irritated look. “It’s why I need her. She can stop Ena and get my mother’s soul back. So, if you would just tell me where she is then we can end this whole thing, and I’ll get out of your fur.”

  “Har,” said Patsy. “Why didn’t you just go to Brigid in the first place? Why waste five years trying to do it on your own?”

  Because I was breaking the only promise I’d ever made to my mother, and it made me sick to my stomach. She told me that I shouldn’t try to find the goddess. If she ever seeks you out then it’s as it should be. But don’t go to her, baby. Don’t ever go to her.

  It appeared that the favor Brigid owed my mother was world-changing humongous. Not that Mom had ever told me what she’d done for the goddess. And did it matter?

  It was ego—pure, bloody stubborn ego, but I wanted to save my Mom. I want to be her champion. And when she told me about how the goddess owed her … well, I’d tucked that away as a “just in case.” Now that I was in over my head, I didn’t have a choice.

  “She’s not here. She’s a goddess and pretty much does whatever she wants. But I know someone who can get in touch with her, and I’ll contact him,” offered Patsy. “In the meanwhile, you’ll understand that I can’t have you wandering around Broken Heart causing any more ruckus.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If Ren’s up for being your babysitter, then you can hang out with him.”

  “Or?” I asked.

  “Or I lock you up in our handy dandy paranormal prison until we handle the situation with your bitchy witch.”

  I snagged Ren’s gaze, and waited for him to make the decision. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his gaze flashed with ire.

  “Prison,” he said finally. He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. “She definitely needs to go to prison.”

  REN HELD MY upper arm and guided—and by guided, I mean hauled—me down a narrow hallway. He’d had the audacity to handcuff me, and even though twelve ways to get out of the cuffs h
ad already occurred to me, I hadn’t tried. ‘Cause I’m nice. And also, Ren could totally whoop my ass. Stupid vampire strength and agility.

  We stopped in front of clear plastic door. While he opened it, I noted the floor-to-ceiling white interior and the single, narrow bed. On the back wall, there was a closed door that I hoped led to a bathroom because I really had to go.

  “Way to hold a grudge, dude,” I said, laying on the sarcasm. Deep down, my feelings were hurt by Ren’s lack of confidence in my good side. And okay, okay, I had a good side. Whatever. The fact he had no reason to trust me (you know, that whole lying and conniving I’d been doing) was not the point.

  But Ren was not a leap-of-faith kind of guy.

  Obviously.

  “You cannot be trusted,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said grumpily. “I figured.” My stomach had started hurting right after he cuffed my hands, and I thought maybe it was a combination of nerves and this annoying propensity to give a damn about what Ren thought. You know what? This whole having a conscience thing was a real bummer.

  I turned around and wiggled my fingers at him. “You wanna remove the jewelry so I can go sit in that cell and plot your death?”

  “You don’t want to kill me.”

  “Yeah,” I said as he removed the cuffs. “I kinda do.”

  I walked into the cell because I’m the biggest fucking moron on the planet, and Ren shut the door. I heard an ominous snick. I slowly turned and found him watching me.

  “Monkey in a cage,” I said sourly.

  “It is a temporary measure.”

  “Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, go save the—” Pain stabbed through me like a thousand hot knives. I doubled over, gasping, curling my arms around my stomach.

  The agony drove me to my knees, and sweat beaded my skin, the moisture dribbling down my temples. My lungs constricted; I didn’t have the ability to scream, and I wanted to. Boy, did I want to.

  “Meckenzie?”

  I shook my head, and it felt like I had skull full of razors rattling around in there. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to breathe.

  “I will not fall for your tricks.”