Taste (Ava Delaney #5)
By Claire Farrell
Edited by Lynn O’Dell
Someone is hunting down the people she’s promised to protect, but Ava’s taste for battle is slowly disappearing. She’s losing the people in her life, one by one, and without them, her inner light can only weaken. But the British Vampire Association have decided to take over Ireland, too, and to give the entire country a fighting chance, Ava must work with the Council and their secret weapons, and let the world see her true face. A sea of blood can’t wash away the deaths that will come, but Ava will make sure everyone gets what they deserve…
Kindle Edition
March 2013
Copyright © Claire Farrell 2013
[email protected] Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.thedarkrayne.com
Licence Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
A high-pitched scream filtered through my dreams, sending me into a mild form of shock. Heart racing, I jumped out of bed, scrambled in the dark, and smacked right into a hot, naked body. I shoved, still not fully aware, and a crashing sound followed by a string of swear words finally woke me properly.
“Peter?”
“Just go, you lunatic. Every bloody night,” he muttered as I ran out of the room.
It wasn’t every night, and Peter didn’t always get injured. But Emmett’s night terrors had grown in frequency, and I knew we would have to deal with his past eventually.
I found Emmett standing at his bedroom window, his palms on the glass, eyes wide open but unseeing. As I approached, his mouth opened wide. He screamed again, an endless, hopeless cry, but the clumps of hair at his feet were what bothered me most.
I took his hands gently. I doubted he was aware of my presence, but as I laid him on the bed, he clung to my arm. I held tight to a modicum of hope that I was next to him in his nightmare world, too.
Peter’s son might have been freed from Hell, but he didn’t have the power to talk about what had happened to him, so he relived his past in his dreams. I didn’t have a way to help with that. At least, not yet.
Peter limped into the room, wearing a T-shirt and shorts.
“Sorry,” I whispered. My waking abruptly tended to be unpredictable.
“How is he?”
The screaming had stopped, but Emmett’s slim fingers still clutched my arm.
“He took a good few clumps off his head. Could have been worse.”
Peter nodded. Sometimes Emmett hurt himself against the walls. Once, he’d tried to claw out his own eyes.
“I’m going to speak to Gabe,” I ventured.
“No.”
“Peter, I have to know if the other children are going through the same thing.”
“He’s normal. He’s fine. Of course he’s going to have nightmares. He’ll get over it.”
“But he might need help with that.”
He sighed wearily and sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want him near those children. He could be dreaming about one of them for all we know.”
Shivering, I ran my fingers through Emmett’s newly shorn cowlick. Luckily, his hair was thick because even cutting it short hadn’t stopped him from pulling handfuls from his scalp.
“I’m not planning on taking him there, and Gabe won’t do anything to hurt him. You know that.” The fae deal I had tricked Gabe into agreeing to had all but guaranteed that fact. “Besides, he might have other news.”
Peter grunted and stretched out next to Emmett. “Maybe. Go back to bed. I’ll stay with him tonight.”
I didn’t move, and Peter’s breathing slowed a couple of minutes later. Dawn streaked watercolours across the sky before I was able to doze again.
Emmett awoke as if nothing had happened during the night, expressing surprise at our appearance next to him yet again.
“You had another dream,” I told him.
He made a face. “What did I do this time?”
“Just pulled out some hair.”
He rubbed his scalp and winced. “Stings.” He pushed Peter. “Peter. Dad! Wake up.”
“In a minute,” Peter mumbled.
“Come on,” I said. “We’ll get the breakfast started.”
Emmett followed me downstairs. “He promised to take me out today.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s just tired. You have all day. Don’t worry.”
I made him some eggs, and while he ate, a knock at the door interrupted him from telling me all about the things he was going to do with his dad that day.
I answered the door to see Mrs. Yaga. “I know it’s Monday, but kinda early for the rent, no?” I said.
“I thought you would be up. Come outside with me. We need to talk.”
We stood together at my front gate, relishing what was probably the last of the sunshine for the year. The vampires were all slowly returning from hibernation and warmer climates, a sure signal that summer was well and truly over.
“What’s up?”
My landlady cocked her head to the side and stared up at me. “I’m getting complaints about the boy, Ava.”
“What? Oh, come on!”
“I know, I know. But tenants complain, and I deal. You understand. His nightmares are still bad, I take it?”
I sighed. “Getting worse, actually. But it’s not his fault, and you know that. They all know what’s going on. What kind of grump would complain that a child who escaped from Hell is kind of freaked out about the whole thing?”
She held up her hands, walking stick and all. “They’re concerned. About him, about you, about the safety of the cul-de-sac. They don’t know what he can do, or why he’s here. They’re genuine concerns, Ava.”
I glared at the houses, wondering who had complained.
“Stop,” she said as if she knew what I was thinking. “I worry, too. You’re strong, but others here are not. I don’t want them to be harmed because the spotlight is on you and yours.”
I thought of little Dita next door, whose scary boginka grandmother had abused her own daughter for something to do. So, okay, maybe Mrs. Yaga had a point. “What happens now? You want me to move?”
She looked taken aback. “Of course not. You’re here for a reason. My, but you’re a mother bear about that child. I must warn the others not to confront you.” Her brown eyes twinkled.
I knew she was teasing me, but I couldn’t relax. “Well, what am I supposed to do then? He doesn’t know what’s happening to him.”
“I don’t have answers, Ava, but you know the nightmares will continue until you find out what’s in his head, what he can’t say.”
I stared at the ground. “I can’t make him do anything.”
“What’s going on?” Peter asked from the doorway, a cup in his hand.
“I was telling Ava that the nightmares will never stop unless you make Emmett confront his fears,” Mrs. Yaga said. “They could get worse.”
“They did something to him,” Peter said, “specifically to stop him from talking. Confronting his fears isn’t that simple.”
“Maybe it’s time to reunite him with the other children who were in Hell with him. Maybe they could—”
“Not a chance,” Peter said sharply. “The worst thing for him would be reliving what happened to him. We’re supposed to be protecting him.”
“And that includes protecting him from himself,” Mrs. Yaga said, but she shook her head. “Today’s not the day.” She turned to me. “Keep an eye out, Ava. I have to help all of these souls.”
I watched her stroll away. There was nothing I could do for Emmett, not without his father’s permission. And judging by his pissed-off
expression, Mrs. Yaga had only gotten Peter’s back up.
I held up my hands. “Don’t look at me.”
“You’re all in it together.”
“Don’t start, Peter. You’re going to have to face up to it at some stage. I’m going to go see Gabe, whether you like it or not. I need to know if this is an Emmett thing or a Hell survivor thing.”
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, go ahead. But don’t expect Gabe to help you after what you did to him.” He turned and walked back into the house.
Okay, so forcing a fae deal onto the angel hadn’t been very fair, but he totally deserved it, and if he had to protect my human friends to stay healthy himself, then that was a pretty fair trade-off. I followed Peter into the kitchen, bathing in the glow of his fury.
I was pretty confident that Gabe would do anything in his power to abide by the deal he had mistakenly entered into, but I still felt a pang of apprehension every time Emmett left my home. He wasn’t ready for a real school, but Peter had begun to take him places: sightseeing, normal kid stuff, anything that would strengthen their still tentative bond and prepare Emmett for a real life. Dita was his only playmate, but Carl helped him with reading and writing, something he already knew a little of, thanks to Helena.
“Where to today?” I asked Peter, ignoring the urge to chew my fingernails and count heartbeats.
Peter made a face. “Taking him to see some family. Yvonne’s idea. Still plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins on her side of the family.”
“That might be good for him. Maybe someday he’ll see his grandfather, too.”
Peter snorted at the mention of his father. “Let’s hope we don’t get down to the last resort.”
The scar on his chin deepened, and I realised something wasn’t right. Again. “Everything okay with you?”
“Yep,” he said tightly.
The next hour was spent with Emmett begging his father to hurry up and Peter drawing out the getting ready process as much as possible, partly to annoy his son, but partly because Emmett’s maternal family made him uncomfortable. That was understandable given that, for a long time, most of them mistakenly assumed Peter had murdered Emmett, Emmett’s mother, and even his grandparents.
“Be good today,” I said automatically as Emmett shrugged on his jacket. He had a whole new wardrobe, and a little colour in his cheeks, but still, a melancholy look in his eyes lingered.
“I’m always good,” he said indignantly.
I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, really? So who cracked an egg on Dita’s head last week?”
He giggled. “She was teaching me about food fights. Anyway, Anka said it would make her hair shiny, you know, once Dita stopped crying about it.”
“Meanie.” I couldn’t resist grinning back. The kid was the sun as far as I was concerned. We all orbited around him, even Carl, as much as he hated to admit it. Emmett and Peter had been living with me for mere months, but my life had changed completely.
“What are you up to today?” Peter asked me.
I fixed Emmett’s collar, much to the boy’s annoyance. “Maybe get a little work done, once I check on Gabe and make sure he’s still keeping his end of things the way they should be.”
“Does that mean they’re following us again?” Emmett blurted, a frown wrinkling his forehead.
“They’re keeping you safe. Don’t worry. The Guardians are only there in case anything happens. You’re safe with them.” As long as Gabe remained trapped into protecting the humans in my life.
“Try not to get into trouble,” Peter teased as he brushed my cheek with his lips.
Emmett hugged me, and when they left, I watched them from the window. Emmett chattered animatedly to Peter. Peter was becoming a constant in his son’s life, and for that, I could only be grateful.
I did get a little work done on my computer before heading to Gabe’s bar. My life was getting back on track, and if it wasn’t for all of the paranormal politics, things could have been almost perfect.
The bar was empty except for Gabe behind the counter. He was drinking a beer, a solemn look on his face.
“You’re late,” he muttered when I took a stool.
“What’s with you?”
He poured out another drink. He appeared wan and tired, unusual for someone who wore a mask every day.
I grew concerned. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What did you want this time?”
“Just making sure everything’s going as planned. Any news?”
He shrugged. “Fionnuala sent Reuben to see the BVA in an attempt at a late reconciliation. She reckoned it wouldn’t be as safe for any other species. He left yesterday. I haven’t heard from him yet.”
I didn’t like the idea of a vicious ancient vampire being the spokesperson who tried to keep the peace with the British vampires intent on grabbing control in the UK and Ireland. “Isn’t anyone afraid he’ll join them?”
Gabe rubbed his eyes. “He’s a consultant here. His life is comfortable. What more could they offer him?”
“Children for lunch? Who the hell knows? But Daimhín wants to be Switzerland. She’s not going to take the Council’s side if something happens.”
“If something happens,” he repeated. “And you. Do you have news for me today?”
“Rebels are under control, Eddie’s privately trying to muster up some support for his cause, and I have some questions for you about the children.”
He clenched his jaw.
I shook my head. “I’m not blaming you for anything. Not today. I just need to know what to expect with Emmett. Have the other kids been having nightmares or anything? Any strange behaviours?”
He laughed softly. “Strange. When we’re discussing a house full of special children. Yes, there have been strange behaviours. There have been nightmares. They’ve been in Hell, Ava. Of course there have been nightmares.”
“Well, what are you doing about it?”
“Ah.” He slammed his glass down. “This isn’t about them. What’s wrong with your child?”
“He’s not mine,” I snapped. “And there’s nothing wrong with him.”
“Ava…”
“Fine. I’m a little worried about him. He’s having some kind of night terrors, and Val told me they’re given something in the market, something that stops them from talking. I think he needs to talk about it, but I don’t know…”
“He’ll forget. He’s a child.”
“What if he doesn’t? What if all of them are affected by their time there? What if this is a mess waiting to happen? This whole thing has been a time-bomb since you decided to keep the children for yourselves.”
He pushed away from the bar, looking wearier than ever. “The entire world is a mess, Ava. You can’t clean up all of it.”
“But we could prevent some of it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps it’s too late.”
“Did something happen?”
He shrugged. “There have been arguments. Some fights. The other children are unperturbed, so perhaps it was a normal thing in the market. I admit I was concerned by the viciousness of it, but as Fionnuala has taken to saying, we will have some fierce Guardians in the future.”
My stomach turned. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“Ah, yes. Here they come. The empty threats again. Face it. You are tainted, you have no power, and there is nothing you can do.”
I smiled. I would prove him wrong. I would prove all of them wrong. There were lots of things I could do.
Chapter Two
I awoke during the night to an empty bed. I threw on a jumper and checked on Emmett. He was sound asleep, so I headed downstairs. I found Peter sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning and polishing knives.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, putting on the kettle.
“Who said anything was wrong?”
I glanced at the clock. “You’re in my kitchen at three in the morning with a stack of daggers in front of you. Obviously,
something’s wrong.”
He leaned back in the chair and stretched, one knife still in hand. “Go back to bed, Ava.”
“Did something happen today? With Emmett’s family?” I turned back to the kettle, but a dark thread of doubt wound its way into my heart.
“No. Nothing new anyway. They want normality for him. Same as you.”
“So what’s with the ’tude?”
He heaved a sigh, threw down the dagger, and rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”
I gestured around the room, panic gripping my insides. “This, this?”
“You, Emmett.” He shook his head. “Living here, being a dad again, giving up everything I’ve known for years. I wasn’t ready. Some days it’s hard to adjust. Some days…” He slowly rested his palms on the table as if he might explode with any sudden movements.
“Some days what?”
“Some days I look out the window and wish I was out there. Some days I’m so fucking bored that I want to kill… just for something to do.” He gazed at me with wild eyes, wild and despairing. Not a good combination.
I moved closer to him, keeping my eye on the daggers. “It doesn’t have to be one extreme or the other.” When I straddled him, he didn’t react in any way. I gripped his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. “What is it you need?”
He grabbed my backside, his fingers kneading me. “I don’t know. And that’s what scares me.” He ran his hands up my spine and rested his cheek against my chest. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. To Emmett. To any of us. I don’t know how to hold in what I am. I don’t know how to fake it.” His voice shook.
I kissed the top of his head, caressing the back of his taut neck. I didn’t have the words to make him feel better, and his frustration rolled off him. It was hard for him to fit into the little box I had created for him, but Emmett had to come before his urges. Emmett had to be number one, or the kid would be lost. I knew what it was like to fake it. I wore a mask most days. I would pull Peter through anything if he let me.
“There’s a lot coming our way,” he whispered.
“But not today.”
He raised his head to look at me, and I wanted so badly to heal the pain in his hazel eyes. But what ailed him was complicated, and sometimes talking didn’t help. When I kissed him, it was different. Not him taking something from me. Not aggressive. Not dominant. Deeper, softer. He showed me his vulnerability for the first time, letting me share it.