Page 39 of Blood and Trouble

Mating scent.

For a moment, I thought it was Lycan’s, that perhaps he’d let it trail behind him like some possessive skunk intent on marking what he considered his.

But when it followed me into the spare room and lingered after I shut the door, I realized it was mine.

Oh, fuck. What the hell is this shit?

My inner beast yipped and yowled, pacing the cage in the back of my mind. It was just as confused as I was.

Was the scent for Lycan…or Ava?

I sat down on the bed, put my head in my hands, and took three deep breaths, telling myself it was nothing. It meant nothing. That’s all this was.

That’s all I was to him.

That’s all I was to Ava.

That’s all they were to me.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

CHAPTER 8

Lycan

“Sorry to interrupt,” Locust said as he walked me down the hall to the room security had set up as their headquarters. From there, they had eyes and ears on everything. Our bedrooms were off-limits, for obvious reasons, but everywhere else had a camera on it at all times. “We got new information from Mill about Marx’s sister.”

Sister?

I didn’t know Marx had a sister. Hell, I didn’t know Marx had a family at all, except for the fucking demon spawn he’d crawled out of hell with. We’d killed most of them, and the rest had scattered to the winds.

Locust walked me into the room where Bow sat in front of a bank of monitors, clicking his keyboard as the screens flashed from one photo to the next.

“Well, look who it is,” came a familiar voice on the computer. “If it isn’t my favorite big brother.”

I laughed. “Hey ya, Chan.”

“Hey ya, Chan? That’s all I get? I’m your most important baby sister, after all.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, her curly blond hair shaking from the bun on top of her head. “Did my best friend get there alright?”

“Yep,” I said. “Settling in great.”

Gods, to see him again, to be so close to him again, it sent stupid flutters through my stomach. When he first walked through the door, it took every ounce of resistance I had not to pull him in for a hug and a kiss. I wanted to curl myself around him, run my hands through his dark, messy hair, and push all his buttons until he broke. And when he pointed out the wedding bands, the lurch in my chest reminded me of why I couldn’t do those things.

After years of giving him everything he wanted, of being everything he needed, I had told him no. It had broken both of us. Now, here I was, married to an almost stranger. He’d said it was none of his business. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Wonderful,” Channing said, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. “So here’s the deal. We’ve been digging into Marx’s history, just a little R&D while we wait for the vampires to regroup.” She pushed a few things around on the screenshare, revealing a photo of a striking blond woman wearing black heels, a floor-length black peacoat, and dark sunglasses. It was a candid shot captured at an airport from security footage, so the quality wasn’t great. “This is Evelyn Vane, Marx’s sister.”

I crossed my arms and zeroed in on her face, memorizing every detail.

“Jury’s still out on whether it’s a blood relation or if the same vampire sired them,” Channing said. “In either case, she’s been lying low for the last few decades. She runs a few businesses in LA, all legit, and our latest intel suggests she’s the head of a nest in Seattle. We reached out to Jameson for confirmation. His crew used to run around those parts, but he’s never heard of her before.”

Something about her seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I blamed it on lack of sleep…and blood…and magic. Fuck, I was still winded from the transition. I needed to lie down. I needed to sleep for the next ten years.

“A few days ago, we got confirmation that she was in Paris,” Channing said. “This photo is from her walking through Roissy airport three weeks ago.”

“Before Marx died,” Bow added.

“Does she come to France a lot?” Locust asked.