Rage. Pure, unbridled fury.
Those women who had murdered her friend, and probably others. . who were hurting Lyssa with these terrible games. .
. . they were going to die.
No, he told himself. No, don’t think that.
But it was impossible not to. He knew what else had been done to Estefan, but seeing that fur. . holding it in his hands. . made the cruelty and horror of his murder viscerally real in a way that it hadn’t been before. The idea of those same women coming close to Lyssa strained his control to the breaking point.
She threw the parcel to the floor and turned away, gagging. He pressed to her side, holding back her hair — holding her — as she sank to her knees. She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge.
Her grief killed him. It was too familiar.
Lyssa kept trying to grieve in silence, but he was wrapped so tightly around her that every shudder filled him — each heaving breath that shook her body, shaking his as though she were going to break apart against him.
Eddie remained quiet as long as he dared, but he watched the door the entire time — straining to hear if anyone was outside.
Finally, he murmured, “Lyssa.”
She buried her face against his chest, momentarily stilling.
“We have to go,” he told her quietly. “It’s not safe here.”
Her fingers tightened around his arm. “Okay.”
Her voice was so soft and muffled, he barely heard her. Eddie helped her stand, but she shook so badly, her teeth chattered. Her skin was cold, and he slid his hands beneath her sweater, pressing them hard against her waist and back. He focused on bringing heat into palms, even more heat than he had used on Aaron Roacher.
Fire flowed through his blood, fire that sank from his body into hers, as easily as if it were the same body, same blood, same life. Golden light streamed from her eyes, mixing with her tears.
He kissed her. “Can you stand without me?”
Lyssa nodded, face crumpling as she pressed her left hand over her mouth. A sob broke, and she turned from him, choking.
Eddie took a deep breath, then another — fighting to focus past her heartbreak — but when he started wrapping the shifter’s skin in the parcel paper, she turned and watched. It was difficult to work, feeling the heat of her gaze on his every movement.
He tried to be careful, respectful, but there was only so much he could do.
Eddie placed the remains in his backpack, then picked up Lyssa’s bag, slinging everything over his shoulder. He found her wiping tears from her cheeks. Grief was raw in her eyes, but her breathing was steadier, and there was a new hardness in her jaw that made her look almost. . cruel.
“Estefan,” she whispered. “He was a good man.”
I know, Eddie wanted to tell her, but a strong sense of self-preservation kept his mouth shut. Eventually, she would discover he had known the shifter was dead — and kept it from her. But not now.
“I can’t take this anymore. I’m done.”
“Lyssa,” he said.
Her eyes glowed. “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to rip their guts out.”
Anger was better than misery. . but Eddie felt cold when she said that. He knew she meant every word.
What kind of stain would that put on her heart? He knew killers. He knew men who killed to protect the people they loved. He had known people who killed just because they liked it.
Murder always changed the eyes. Lyssa didn’t have those eyes.
But I do, he thought, filled with dread and fear — for her and himself.
“Your friend,” she said, her eyes bloodshot, bright. “I wasn’t certain Lannes was safe before. . but now? If Betty and Nikola have been following me, then they must know about him. A gargoyle. . would be as attractive as a dragon.”
Eddie reached for his phone. “If we could find a way to keep them from tracking you. .”
“I think I know how they did it.” Her voice was ragged, hoarse. “When she. . when she killed Estefan. . she stole the essence of a shape-shifter. Same essence as mine. It’s no exact science, but with enough power. . power she certainly has. . she could take that essence and use it to find any shape-shifter near her.”
“And then make Betty and Nikola do her dirty work? Why these games? Why is this so personal?”
She closed her eyes, swaying. “Call your friend.”
“Lyssa.”
“I can’t—” She stopped, and softened her voice, though it broke with grief. “It has to do with why she murdered my parents, but that’s. . that’s all I can tell you. For now. Please, Eddie.”
Her plea bought his silence but did nothing to ease the ache. He felt too much around her, too much that was reckless and dangerous.
Eddie stepped close, staring into her eyes — trying to harden his heart. But it was impossible when she stared at him with those golden eyes, tear-struck, and glimmering with light.
“They’ll come after you,” she whispered. “They’ll go after the people I care about before they come after me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not that easy to kill.”
Lyssa stepped back from him and looked down. “Better make that call.”
She really was going to break his heart. Eddie found Lannes’s number. On the third ring, the gargoyle answered.
“Eddie,” he said, sounding breathless. “I’m glad you called.”
Dread filled him. “What’s happened?”
“Lethe’s family is in some kind of uproar. They won’t let her go.”
Eddie was silent a moment. “What does that mean?”
“It means I need to face a household full of witches to get my wife back.”
“Have you talked with her?”
“Barely. There’s too much going on in the background that I don’t understand, and she’s furious.” Lannes hesitated, his voice dropping. “She also sounds scared.”
“Hold on.” Eddie pressed the phone against his chest and looked at Lyssa, who watched him with stark concern. “Did you catch any of that?”
“Some. His wife is being held by witches?”
“Her family. For some reason, they won’t let her leave.” He hesitated. “None of them know she’s married to a gargoyle.”
Understanding entered her eyes. “If he goes to get her, they’ll see he’s wearing an illusion. And Lannes isn’t sure he can trust them.”
“It’s more than that.” Eddie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He has a bad history with witches. He and his brothers were imprisoned and tortured by them.”
Lyssa paled. “He can’t go in there.”
“Not alone.”
They stared at each other.
“My presence will only cause trouble,” she said, rubbing the heel of her palm against her tear-stained cheek.
“I need to help him.”
“God,” she said brokenly. “This is going to be a mess.”
“Lethe is not her real name,” Eddie told Lyssa, during the stop-and-go cab ride to the Upper East Side address that Lannes had given them. “It’s Alice. She had amnesia and doesn’t remember her life from before a couple years ago.”
Lyssa glanced at the cab driver, but he was holding a loud conversation in Arabic over his cell phone, and ignoring them completely. “How did she meet Lannes?”
“Accident.” Eddie turned off the touch-screen television embedded in the divider. If he had to hear another ad for daytime television, he was going to throw himself into traffic. “They found each other not long after she lost her memories.”
“Lucky.” Lyssa plucked at the backseat’s peeling black vinyl and dragged down a shaky breath. “Some things I’d like to forget.”
He hesitated. “How long did you know Estefan?”
“Three years, but only six months of that was face-to-face. We met in Florida. It was an accident. Going there was stupid because of the heat and how I have to cover my body. But I missed the sun and ocean.” Lyssa r
ubbed her face. “Do you have more tissues?”
Eddie reached into his backpack and found one.
She blew her nose. “There was a waitress he liked to flirt with at this little café near the water. We happened to be there at the same time. It had been years since I’d seen another of my kind, and the same was true for Estefan. I couldn’t help but talk to him.”
“He was a good friend.”
“So good. I was skittish at first, and he had such patience. I can’t tell you what it meant to me that someone knew. . what I was. He made me feel less alone.”
“There wasn’t anyone else you could have gone to? Your father’s family? Your mother didn’t have relatives? No friends, even?”
“No one. No one wanted anything to do with my family. My father lost his friends when he married my mother.”
Eddie stared, baffled. “Why?”
Lyssa looked down at her gloved hands, but he knew she was seeing past cashmere to scales and claws. “Ignorance and fear. Not that it matters anymore.”
It mattered to her, and to him. “Because your mother was a witch?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” When she didn’t take his invitation to explain, he added, “Is that why you’re angry at Long Nu?”
“She sent you to deal with me instead of coming herself. I think that says it all.”
“She told me it would draw the wrong kind of attention to you.”
A bitter smile touched her mouth. “You believe that?”
Eddie leaned back. “You think Long Nu was afraid that she would become a victim.”
“For all her power, she is still vulnerable to the Cruor Venator and her women. You, on the other hand. .” Lyssa gave him a curious look. “Why were you able to resist them?”
“I had a priority more important than fear.”
“Must have been a good one.”
“It was you,” he said. “So yes, it was.”
Lyssa stared, and his cheeks heated — especially when a faint, warm smile broke over her face.
“You should use that line in a bar. It would get you laid, like, a thousand times a night.”
Eddie smiled back. “That sounds exhausting.”
“What are you, eighty?” Lyssa closed her eyes, leaning against him. Her smile faded. “Long Nu doesn’t want to end up like Estefan. He’s dead because of me.”
He felt like an asshole. “Maybe it was a coincidence. The Cruor Venator found him, then realized the connection afterward.”
“Maybe. But I didn’t hide myself in that town. Everyone knew he was looking out for me. I stayed in his home. If the witch tracked me there, and asked questions. .”
That was exactly how it had happened. Again, Eddie kept his mouth shut and hated himself for it.
Lyssa shoved her wet tissue into the jacket pocket — and an odd look passed through her eyes. When her left hand emerged, it was with the plastic bag that contained her charred, flaking photo. It was slightly more ragged than he remembered, but her young, smiling face was still intact.
Eddie thought about his sister and felt a pang in his heart.
“You were happy then,” he said quietly, thinking that was something he should remember, too. “Don’t forget that, no matter what happens.”
Some of the tension left her shoulders — but when she glanced at him, her eyes were red-rimmed again, and bright.
“Seems like since I met you, I’ve been crying nonstop,” she said, and stroked the bag covering the photo. “You’re right. I was happy. If there was a kid who had a better childhood, I’d like to meet her. My parents were the best. There was so much love in our family.”
“I’m sorry you lost them.”
She gave him a heartbreaking smile. “I was going to have a brother. My mom was pregnant when she died.”
Eddie’s breath caught. Lyssa looked again at the photo, and her smile faded.
“Sometimes. . I think my mom knew she wasn’t going to last long. Or maybe she was just paranoid. She tried to teach me as much as she could, even when my dad thought she went overboard.” Her hand began to shake, and she set the photo down in her lap. “I miss them.”
I miss my sister, he wanted to tell her. I miss her every day and think about all the ways I could have done things differently. If I could turn back time. .
Eddie carefully took her hand in his. He felt wounded, touching her. Heartsore, grieving for his losses. . and for hers.
She snuggled closer, without hesitation, resting her head against his chest as though she’d done so a million times before. The familiarity of that gesture, the trust in it, made tenderness burst inside him in a rush of heat that went deeper than any fire.
No person had ever done this to him. He wasn’t even sure what this was. . except that it wasn’t just infatuation. It wasn’t just his lonely self, reaching out to the first woman who could meet and withstand his fire.
Fire was nothing but a chemical reaction releasing heat and light. Fire could be struck with a match, or lightning. Fire was common.
This. . what he felt when close to Lyssa. . was something else entirely. Losing her would mean losing his life. As ridiculous as that should have been, it was truer than anything in his life.
How was he going to protect her? Was there any way to keep her safe that wouldn’t end in killing?
She made a small hissing sound and touched her nose. Blood dotted her fingertips.
“Are you sick?” he asked, alarmed.
“Side effect,” she muttered. “Don’t worry. I haven’t done any magic in almost ten years. It puts stress on the body.”
Anger made his voice sharp. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
The cab driver swerved to the right and braked hard, nearly sending them into the divider. But Eddie never took his gaze off Lyssa, who — for one moment — gave him a haunted look that chilled him to the bone.
“We’re here,” announced the cab driver. “Close, anyway.”
Close enough to see Lannes, less than half a block away. Even though it was dark, his size made him stand out. The gargoyle, clad in his illusion, waited on the Central Park side of Fifth Avenue, leaning against one of the old, slightly bent trees growing from the sidewalk. Dead leaves littered the ground, and the park woodlands stretched behind him on the other side of the wall. It was all very idyllic — except for the worry on Lannes’s face as he spoke into his cell phone.
Eddie and Lyssa slid out of the cab. The gargoyle strode toward them, and they met beneath another tree — a tangle of hearts and initials carved into the bark.
“They’re here,” Lannes said into the phone, his massive frame strained and rigid. “No, I’m coming for you. It doesn’t matter anymore, baby. Just. . hold tight.”
He did not hang up but tilted the receiver from his mouth and gave them both a sharp look — especially Lyssa. “There are eight people up there, ranging in ages from twenty to seventy. All family. All upset.”
“Not because of Lethe?” Eddie asked.
“No. I think it has to do with the Cruor Venator.” He gave Lyssa a significant look, and she raised her brow.
“In a perfect world,” she told him, “you wouldn’t even know I exist. Don’t think I wanted this.”
Lannes grunted. Eddie stepped closer to her. “Lethe can’t tell them she needs some fresh air?”
“She tried that. They’re being especially protective.” Lannes pressed the phone to his mouth again. “Okay. I love you.”
They waited for traffic to pass and crossed the road to an elegant building constructed from pale stone. On the other side, though, Lyssa held back and flagged down a cab.
Eddie watched her pass him a twenty.
“I’ll give you another forty, plus fare, if you wait here,” she told him. “We shouldn’t be more than ten minutes, and we’ll want to leave fast.”
“Gonna rob a bank?” teased the man.
“Family reunion.”
“Holy shit,” he said
. “I’ll buckle up.”
Eddie gave her an amused look. Lyssa shrugged, rubbing her eyes. “What? You think I want to be stuck here?”
Lannes grunted. “Come on.”
The doorman eyed their faces but didn’t give them any trouble going in. Lethe’s family lived on the top floor. The elevator ride was short, and claustrophobic. Lannes took up most of the space and kept fidgeting.
All while staring at Lyssa. Not with a pleasant look on his face, either.
“There’s something different about you,” he said, just as the elevator reached the tenth floor. “You’ve done magic, haven’t you?”
Lyssa tensed. “Does that bother you?”
He frowned. “Let’s get my wife, then I’ll let it bother me.”
There was only one door on the tenth floor. Eddie heard shouts on the other side.
“What a crappy day for visiting people,” Lyssa muttered.
Lannes dragged in a deep breath, and banged his fist on the door so hard, the entire frame shook. Silence fell on the other side.
And then, very distantly, they heard a woman shout, “LET ME GO!”
Lannes’s entire frame shuddered.
Eddie reacted instinctively, grabbing Lyssa and pulling her out of the way — just as the gargoyle stepped back, his massive hands flexing with loud cracks of bone.
The look in his eyes was pure death, and, with an ear-deafening roar, he slammed his foot into the door — and kicked it in.
Wood splintered everywhere. Eddie heard shouts and gasps of surprise, and followed Lannes into the apartment — fire already burning in his hands. He checked for Lyssa and found her behind him, her eyes glowing, mouth set in a hard line. Fresh blood dotted her nostrils and upper lip.
Five men and women were ranged around the room, all tall, fair-haired, with chiseled cheekbones and slender bodies. None wore bright colors, which reflected the apartment — decorated in white, black, and gray. Books lined tall shelves, and a grand piano sat in the corner. Suitcases lined the wall.
All those people looked stunned, and not at all dangerous. Three more women came running from the hall, of such similar appearance they could have only been sisters. Lethe was behind them, slender and blond, and very pale.
She was the only one dressed in color: a sea-blue silken blouse, with dark jeans and emerald green ballet flats. Golden earrings dangled. Her face was flushed, furious. Eddie had only met her once before, the previous year, during a rooftop barbecue in San Francisco. Sometimes shy, but with a wicked sense of humor, and deep, deep love for the gargoyle who rarely left her side.
Within the Flames d&s-11 Page 17
