by Juniper Hart
Gabriel! She didn’t know why that was her first thought, not when the last place she had been conscious was at Patricia Hutton’s house.
Emily sat very still, using her nose and ears to take in the surroundings the best she could. There were no voices nearby, but she could hear the constant drip of a leaky tap or something similar. Her hands touched concrete below her, and she reasoned she was in a basement of sorts. There were no drafts to speak of, which led her to believe that she was indoors.
Think, she willed herself. Think about how to get out of here. But as she tried to make sense of all that was happening, the only thing she kept seeing was Sammy’s face being smashed against a wall in a blur of action as a blonde woman allowed them into the house. After that, there was nothing.
“Sammy?” she called out, running her tongue over her parched lips. “Sammy, are you here?” Bizarrely, Emily found herself annoyed.
So much for getting that interview, she thought bitterly. Days of running around for what? To be kidnapped.
Suddenly, however, it all made sense, and Emily understood how she had been manipulated by Gabriel. There had never been an interview with Patricia Hutton. That was just how Gabriel had lured her back to Salem. It was a punch to her gut, and Emily had never felt more foolish or scared in her life. She mournfully realized she should’ve listened to Marcel. Why had she been so stubborn?
“Marcel isn’t as good a guy as you think,” a voice said smoothly. Emily recognized it at once, her blood running cold.
“Shut up, Gabriel,” she snarled. “What do you want with me? Whatever it is, I promise, you’re going to work your ass off to get it.”
Abruptly, the blindfold was pulled off her eyes, and she blinked several times as her vision adjusted to the dim light. It was, indeed, a basement in which she sat, and she looked around helplessly for something she could use to escape.
“First of all,” Gabriel said sweetly, “I always get what I want. Secondly, I highly recommend you fall into place if you know what’s good for you. I selected you, after all. You would think you’d want to show a little bit of gratitude for everything I’ve done for you.”
Emily snickered mirthlessly.
“You made the wrong choice with me, honey,” she promised him. “You did such a shitty job, in fact, that I didn’t even know I had been turned.”
Gabriel stared at her for a moment, a bemused smile on his face, as if he was wondering whether to believe her.
“You look surprised, Gabriel,” Emily barked at him. “Did you screw up?” A shiver ran through her as she realized how much she sounded like her father at that moment. I guess even he had his uses.
“I think you’re toying with me, Emily,” Gabriel told her, advancing on her. “But your sense of humor was one of the reasons I chose you.”
Curiosity overtook her fear. It was, after all, one of the questions that had been playing over and over in her mind since she’d first learned about her newfound abilities. Why her?
“Oh, yeah?” she asked. “What other reasons did you have for changing me against my will?”
Gabriel scowled, any glimmer of his pleasant disposition faltering. “Well, aren’t you an ungrateful creature? You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Emily. I gave you the precious gift of immortality!”
So, he doesn’t intend to kill me, Emily thought. I guess that’s something.
A wide smile covered Gabriel’s face, like he was some conflicted clown who couldn’t settle on an emotion. “Of course I’m not going to kill you! You’re part of my exclusive pack! A pack I hand-picked, the best of the best, the—”
“You can spare me your sales pitch, Gabriel. The deed is already done,” Emily interrupted, relishing the fading smile again. Seeing his grin made her furious.
“Well,” he sighed. “You did ask me an interesting question,” he said. “Would you like me to answer it?” She stared at him blankly. “You asked why I chose you over all the other beautiful girls in Salem, or on the west coast, for that matter. You have no idea how many vie for the—”
“Do you ever just answer a question without bursting into song?” Emily asked flatly. Gabriel glowered. Oh, yes, he’s a great fearless leader. Thin-skinned, boisterous, and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. He should run for president.
“Marcel, huh?” Gabriel said, and Emily bristled.
“What about him? Are you still licking your wounds where he kicked your ass?”
Gabriel hissed and rushed toward her. For a second, Emily worried she’d gone too far, but he stopped himself, inhaling deeply, like he was trying to contain himself.
And he throws temper tantrums. Yep, perfect for politics. Though she hoped he was reading her thoughts, he seemed to be off on another plain, one which involved only himself.
“You were a nosy kid, Emily,” Gabriel offered, and her back stiffened. “You knew way too much about the Lycans. You don’t even realize what a service I did you by turning you instead of reporting you to the Council of Seven for all those questions you were asking.”
Emily laughed shortly. “Something tells me you’ve gone out of your way to steer clear of the Council.”
To her surprise, he nodded in agreement.
“I don’t see eye to eye with Landon Burke,” he conceded. “Who am I, however, but a lowly servant in the grand scheme of the Enchanted?”
“You’ll be a dead servant once Landon gets his hands on you. He’s already crippled you with a spell, hasn’t he?” It was the right thing to say to heighten Gabriel’s fury, and he drew his face toward hers in a sneer.
“Keep talking, little girl,” he spat. “You act cocky, but you still have no idea what’s going on.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me, Gabriel?”
“I don’t know if it would do any good. The ignorant refuse to see, even when the evidence is staring them dead in the face.”
Emily gave him a deadpan look, even though her heart was hammering in her ribcage. “You’re boring me, Gabriel.”
Frustration showed clearly on his face, and Emily had to question how he’d ever gotten people to follow him, even mortals. The guy had less charisma than a used-shoe salesman.
“I only learned about you because of your beloved Marcel, Emily. He’s the one who opened my eyes to your very existence all those years ago.”
Emily’s heart stopped beating altogether, and she gaped at him. Suddenly, she burst out into peals of laughter.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, Gabriel,” she snickered between gasps of breath. He returned her stare stonily.
“You see? You’re so blinded by this knight in shining armor, you didn’t even stop to consider why he’s coming to your rescue. He’s driven by guilt, not love. You are the fool here, not me.”
Emily’s chuckles died off, and she looked at him, realizing that he at least believed what he was saying.
“Okay,” she muttered slowly, regaining her composure. “How did that come to happen?”
“I suppose it was the day you cornered him and demanded an exclusive interview about the pack,” Gabriel began, recalling the details. “He was furious that a little mortal girl would be so brazen, you see, but I? I applauded your moxie. Any other Lycan would have turned you in and had you executed, but I was smarter. I knew you’d be a benefit to me. So, I had you followed for a while, learned about your alcoholic father, the one who abused you and never saw the specialness that I did.”
A wave of bile washed through Emily as she continued to watch his expression.
He stalked me for years before he had me turned. Because Marcel complained to him about me. Her gut was twisting in betrayal and shock, but she refused to let Gabriel see her inner turmoil. The effort to keep it from him was futile. He could read her thoughts easily, and she was in no position to stop him.
“You know what I’m saying is true, don’t you?” he asked gently, an almost tender side of him showing, and Emily wrenched her gaze away from his face.
>
“We were kids,” she muttered. “He didn’t know any better.”
“Ho, ho!” Gabriel laughed. “The seven stages of grief commence. This would be your bargaining stage. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, honey, but Lycans were born old souls. We know much more inherently. Good genetics, I suppose.”
Emily whipped her head back and glared at him defiantly.
“What do you want from me, Gabriel?” she snapped. “I’m not part of your pack. I’m not part of anyone’s pack. I can’t help you because I have no abilities.”
“You do, my dear. You have abilities, even if you can’t see them.” A shiver danced down her spine. “I turned you and the others because my men demanded that we have females in our pack. You are one of those lucky four.”
“Oh, God,” Emily mumbled as she understood what he was asking of her.
“You’ll be treated well here, Emily. You’ll have money and everything your heart desires. You’ll never have to work. You can do whatever you want in comfort, answering to no one. All you need to do in return is produce some healthy cubs. You want children, don’t you, Emily? Be the parent that your father could never have been to you?”
“Shut up about my father!” Emily hissed. “You have no idea about him.”
“Sure I do,” Gabriel told her. “I’m the reason he ended up face-first in that glass coffee table.”
Emily’s jaw dropped onto the floor.
“You can’t say you weren’t relieved when he didn’t make it, Emily,” he went on. “The man was a waste of life. He would waste his immortality, but you…well, you are destined for greatness.”
“You killed my father?” Gabriel shrugged.
“It was a recon gone bad. I was in there nosing around about you, and he surprised me by coming home early. It wasn’t intentional. You were there, weren’t you?” Emily’s face was translucent. “You were there, but you chose not to come inside. Smart move. I probably would have had to kill you if you had.”
Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes, warding off any other words that might spring from his mouth.
“Anyway, you can think about my offer, Emily. I certainly wouldn’t want to put any pressure on you.” Emily opened her eyes and scoffed at him.
“You’re asking me to be a concubine for a gang of murderers and thieves? I am not having sex with anybody in your pack. That’s a vile proposition. I don’t care how much money and comfort you’re offering me.” she growled. “You can kill me instead.”
Gabriel cocked his head to the side and sighed. “I’m not going to kill you, Emily. I made you, remember? It would be like killing my own child.”
“So, then you’ll just force me,” Emily said coldly. “I’ll kill myself.”
“Killing yourself as a Lycan is much harder than you might think,” Gabriel snorted. “Why are you being so difficult? What do you have out there that you’re so eager to get back to? I just told you that your lover is only trying to ‘help’ you over some misguided sense of guilt. He doesn’t love you, Emily. You have no job, no future. You have no family. I’m offering you an opportunity here, one without strings or undertones.”
“And no love,” she whispered. Gabriel grunted.
“Are you a glutton for punishment?” he demanded. “Anyone you’ve ever loved has betrayed you. How many more times are you going to fall for that? Do you know how old I am, Emily?” She didn’t answer. “I’m four hundred and six. I’ve ‘been in love’ more times than you can count—and I likely mean that literally. You know what? Every single one of those bitches turned on me.”
“That’s saying more about you than it is about love,” Emily said, and he glared at her.
“Your track record is on par with mine, honey.” Well, he had a point there.
“Marcel will come looking for me,” she whispered, but even as she said it, she wasn’t sure if she was being honest.
“Maybe,” Gabriel agreed. “But only out of guilt or obligation. I suspect that Landon Burke commissioned him to find you in the first place. It’s the Council who wants me, Emily, not Marcel. He might try once or twice to placate the powers that be, but in the end, he’ll fail to find us, just as Landon has before him.”
Every word he spoke drove a knife deeper into Emily’s heart, mostly because she heard the truth in them. It was never love that steered Marcel to me. He was just an agent for the Council, and I was just under his protection detail.
Gabriel exhaled heavily and turned to leave her, as though he felt he was not getting through to her.
“And for the record, you don’t need to have sex with anybody in the pack. Science can take care of that. I can’t turn anybody else, so there is only one way to grow the pack. I need you to do this. I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he said.
“Wait!” Emily yelled. He turned back, a look of surprise on his face. “There never was an interview with Patricia Hutton, was there?”
“Not exactly,” he answered. “She didn’t want to play along in the end. Tragic, really. You could have had your story if she’d just done what she was told.”
Deep disappointment filled Emily’s gut, and her lower lip quivered. He’s right. I have no future, no family, and no one to care about me if I disappear. I don’t even have a career. My whole life has been an anticlimax.
“I’ll be back in an hour—”
“No need,” Emily said quietly. “I’ll do what you’re asking. I have nowhere else to go.”
11
“Oh, my God! We need to call in the FBI! The CIA!” Sammy rambled. “The senator can’t get away with this! Kidnapping a journalist!”
“Sammy, I need you to focus,” Marcel said firmly. “Look at me and tell me exactly what happened when you went into the house.”
“I told you. I told the cop. I told everyone! Stop asking me questions and get out there and find her!”
“Sammy, I don’t want to slap you in the face, but if you can’t be rational, you’re leaving me with little choice.”
Sammy gaped at him. “Who the hell are you, anyway? You just show up and snatch Emily away, and suddenly everything goes to hell?”
“Sammy, there is no one who wants Emily back more than me,” Marcel said, struggling to keep his cool. He knew he shouldn’t be frustrated with Sammy, but the clock was ticking with Emily gone, and he was out of options to find her. “Please,” Marcel said reasonably. “Just walk me through this.”
Sammy grunted and looked at him from the hospital bed, his eyes much clearer than they had been the last time Marcel had seen him. He seemed alert but much warier. It had taken quite a bit of time for the police to clear the room, and Marcel had no way of knowing what they had deducted from what had occurred at the house. He could find that out later through Eric, though. In the meantime, he needed Sammy to recount the events.
“This is useless,” Sammy muttered, but Marcel noted with relief that he was gearing up to tell his story yet again.
“Start with the emails your boss received from Patricia Hutton.”
“The emails started with Emily. She was the first one to get contact from Patricia, almost a month ago. She’s Senator Jasper’s mistress. I don’t know if you’re aware of the scandal involved with him.”
“I heard something about it,” Marcel agreed impatiently. “So what happened?”
“She reached out to Emily, which was odd, because Emily was only a copywriter. She didn’t have her name on anything, but Ms. Hutton claimed that because Emily was from Salem, she trusted her to come.”
“That should have been a red flag,” Marcel muttered to no one in particular. He could see why Emily, an aspiring journalist, would ignore the warning signs.
“She was careful—she didn’t even go to Greg until she was sure that Patricia was the real deal. It took her two weeks to even get her on the phone, and our voice recognition software told us that it was really her. We had an exclusive, but I warned her that the senator wouldn’t be happy about such an i
nterview.”
“Sammy,” Marcel sighed. “This isn’t about the senator.”
“Oh, then it’s just a coincidence that this happened, especially when she led us here? It was a trap all along.”
“It doesn’t make sense that the senator would trap an unknown copywriter,” he insisted. “Go on.” He knew he wasn’t getting through to Sammy, but how else could he explain it without telling the photographer the entire story?
“You know the rest,” Sammy said. “We came. Ms. Hutton ghosted us. Emily stayed, presumably to play house with you, and Dustin and I left. When I got back from my shoot in Canada, Greg told me that Patricia Hutton had reached out to him and apologized, that she’d gotten cold feet and that she wanted to do the interview after all. I should have listened to my gut. I knew it was wrong.”
“What happened when you went to the house?”
Sammy inhaled and glared at Marcel. “You know. You were there!”
“I wasn’t there when it happened!” Marcel exploded. “You need to stop treating me like your enemy and start talking. Wherever Emily is, Sammy, she’s not in good company.”
“No shit.”
“Then can you stop glowering at me and tell me what went on?”
“We knocked on the door, and Patricia answered. Her face looked funny—”
“Funny how? Was she hurt? Bleeding?”
“No… I don’t know. There was a weird expression on her face.”
“But it was her? Not someone who looked like her?”
“We already got confirmation that she died at the scene. Of course it was her.”
Somehow, they got Patricia working with them, Marcel thought. It must have only been to lure Emily back to Salem. That crafty bastard. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
“Okay,” he said encouragingly. “What did she say when she opened the door?”
“Nothing. She seemed like she was going to say something, but before she did, we were attacked. Two men—a blond with longish hair and a littler guy pounced on us, like they were animals or something. I didn’t even have time to react.”
