As he began to slip into unconsciousness, Eris heard Snag’s voice, low in his ear.
You deceived me. You forced me to remain behind and protect her, and all the while you intended to sacrifice yourself.
Eris could not reply. Could not defend his actions by stating the truth, that he’d been a fool and underestimated Kovac’s power, probably at the cost of his own life. He couldn’t muster the energy necessary to do anything more than send a single plea.
Keep… her… safe…
There was a long pause.
I made you a vow. I will not break it.
Comforted by the promise, Eris slipped gratefully into darkness. He did not hear Snag’s final words.
I will keep you both safe.
*
Trynn groaned as consciousness returned. Every inch of her body felt heavy and painful, as if she’d endured some tortuous full-body workout that pressed her muscles far beyond their endurance.
Her eyes cracked open—even her damned eyelids hurt—and the world around her spun momentarily before coming into focus. She was lying on her right side on the comfortable couch, facing the partially open window. Hazy, sodium-yellow light filtered through, adding to the indistinct glow illuminating the room.
Pushing herself into a sitting position, Trynn squinted and peered around, trying to remember what the hell had happened. She stared blankly through the window for several moments, and saw that the yellow glow was from the roof light on the building across from the hotel.
It was pitch black outside.
Shit. Shit.
“Snag!” she yelled, furious, scrambling upright on shaky legs. She staggered forward a few steps towards the door and nearly collided with the pale vampire, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“You!” she accused, pointing her finger into his chest. “You knocked me out!”
Snag did not respond to her accusation—surprise, surprise. Instead, he simply stood there, staring down at her. Perhaps it was the low light, but his features seemed even more sunken and spectral than usual.
“How dare you?” she railed, too angry to even try to calm down. “You had no right to do that to me! I am not your hostage. I can leave whenever I damn well please—you are not in charge of me!”
Again, Snag remained infuriatingly silent in the face of her tirade. He blinked at her once, the moment stretching between them.
Desperation sang through Trynn’s veins, her desire to storm from the hotel growing stronger every moment. She had to find Eris. She had to make sure that he was safe.
She let out a wordless yell of rage and spun on her heel, pacing back and forth along the length of the couch she had just vacated. Running her hands through her hair, Trynn considered her options. How could she find Eris when the only clue she had was a vague suspicion that he’d gone after Kovac?
On her next pass, her eyes fell again on Snag. Something about the look on his face made her think he was well aware of what was going on, and where she could find Eris. She knew he wouldn’t answer if she asked him directly where Eris was, but maybe she could provoke him into speaking some other way?
Trynn knew she could be a manipulative bitch when she put her mind to it. And she was damn well going to put her mind to it right now.
“You’re a terrible friend,” she snarled, staying just out of reach in case he got any ideas about putting her to sleep again. “How can you stand there blinking at me like a simpleton when Eris is out there, somewhere, in god-knows-what kind of danger? How can you just sit by and let it happen?”
Snag didn’t move an inch, nor did his expression change. His lack of response didn’t surprise Trynn in the slightest. She hadn’t expected him to give over the information that easily. But that was fine. Trynn was not, in the end, a particularly nice person. And she had plenty more ammunition where that had come from.
“Do you even care about him at all?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe you were relieved when he headed off into danger, so you could stay here, safe and sound. Maybe all you care about is your own sorry, pathetic hide.”
Snag did not react outwardly, yet something made the hair on the back of Trynn’s neck stand on end. The atmosphere of the room filled with electricity—like the instant of eerie stillness in a storm just before lightning struck.
But if there was one thing Trynn had never learned how to do, it was stop.
“What did he ever do to you?” she hissed. “He’s been nothing but a friend to you, and for how long? How many centuries? Yet you betray him like it’s nothing.”
A muscle at the corner of Snag’s jaw contracted. As Trynn watched with a sudden surge of trepidation, he raised his right hand to his temple and closed his eyes.
Without warning, images exploded into life in front of her mind’s eye. They were vivid. All-encompassing. She was still in the hotel room, but it was daylight, and the viewpoint had changed. Instead of standing by the couch, she was seated in Snag’s preferred chair by the window. She could sense that Eris was lying in the bed within the walled-off area of the sleeping alcove, though she couldn’t see him from her spot by the window.
We don’t have time to wait!
That was Eris, speaking without speaking. Trynn could hear his rich tones as clear as day, though he was still in the other room.
This has to be resolved before it turns into a disaster! But we also can’t risk leaving Trynn unguarded. You need to stay here and protect her. I’ll go ahead to Damascus and see what I can do own my own about the situation. You know how important Trynn is—
Trynn felt Snag’s flare of irritation at his friend’s words.
—and we sure as hell aren’t taking her along. We’d be delivering her straight into Bael’s hands, Eris continued doggedly.
Then I will go. You will stay.
Snag’s mental voice was deep and commanding. But now Trynn could feel Eris’ anger, as well.
Don’t be ridiculous. You’re more powerful than I am. I need you here, with Trynn, protecting her. Please, Snag, just do this for me.
Snag did not respond, but Trynn felt a chill of power emanating from him. His anger was growing, filling the entire suite just as it had moments ago in the real world, when she had goaded him.
It’s pragmatic, Eris pointed out, and you can’t stop me from going unless you plan on fighting me outright. I’ll find out exactly what we’re facing, so that we can stop whatever Bael is intending with these bombs.
The image before her shifted and changed between one breath and the next. They were someplace unfamiliar. She could see a dark chamber with a light above a table where a lone figure lay.
Immediately, she recognized the man as Eris, yet he looked completely different from when she’d last seen him. His face was bloody, bruised, and swollen—his eyes crusted over with some sort of black sludge.
“Eris! Eris!” Trynn cried, but her voice was lost before it ever reached her lips. No matter how hard she tried, no sound escaped.
She could see burn marks upon his marble white skin, and large swatches of purple flesh where he had clearly been badly beaten. She tried to reach out and touch him, but her hand was as insubstantial as smoke.
He was barely breathing, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.
Trynn felt a presence beside her, and looked up to find Snag standing next to her, staring down at Eris’ broken form. He looked up slowly and met her eyes. As their gazes locked, she felt what he felt—Eris’ agonizing pain and terrible weakness, the strain on the fragile thread binding his soul to his ruined body.
An instant later, Trynn was back in the real world, crouched on her hands and knees in the hotel room, trying in vain to throw up her fucking toenails onto the soft rug beneath her. After retching for what felt like hours and bringing up only stomach acid, she clumsily tried to push herself upright—only to fall to the side, leaning against the front of the couch.
“Oh, God,” she croaked, shaking in reaction like a leaf in the wind.
>
She looked up at Snag through tear-blurred eyes. He was still standing in front of the doorway. As she watched, he lowered his hand from his temple and let it hang limply at his side.
Trynn swallowed several times, choking on bile, and tried to speak again. “W-we have to stop this. We have to help him! Snag, please!”
She was begging by the end, staring up into Snag’s dark, pain-filled eyes.
He didn’t answer, and hope began to die in her heart. Just as the first sob of wretched grief tried to rise and jerk free of her chest, a strange rushing sound filled the room.
Trynn looked around wildly, trying to find the source. A cool mist was swirling through the open window—something that was clearly impossible on such a sultry Mediterranean night. The cloud of vapor filled the whole room, wrapping around the two of them like a soothing caress.
Snag closed his eyes, his chin dipping, and breathed out in a slow sigh.
THIRTEEN
THE SWIRLING MIST SEEMED to suck the air directly out of Trynn’s lungs. She jerked back, her shoulders banging against the couch.
“What the hell?” she rasped, looking up at Snag. The ancient vampire still had not moved.
Trynn blinked, trying to clear the tears from her eyes. When she opened them again, the cloud of mist had disappeared, and five people stood in the center of the room—three women, and two men. She remained frozen, kneeling next to an acrid puddle of bile as she stared at the mysterious intruders.
What? How—?
“We caught most of that, Snag,” a tall man with dark hair said. His tone was that of someone who was used to being obeyed. His unnaturally light grey eyes flashed toward Trynn, who remained in the unflattering position she had been in before their arrival. “Do you know where Eris is? Can you track him?”
Snag did not speak, but the newcomer nodded as if he had.
Trynn looked over the remaining members of the group with wide eyes. Next to the leader stood a short, curvy woman with long, honey-colored hair and a mole on her face, like some old Hollywood movie actress. She returned Trynn’s gaze with a look of sympathy and reassurance.
“We should go after him right away,” the second man said. He had brown hair and striking green eyes that seemed to see right through her. There was an air of easy charisma about him that permeated the room as he spoke. Trynn had the distinct feeling that whatever he wanted, he generally got.
The two women standing closest to the window were also watching Trynn with poorly veiled interest. One was a haughty vision of beauty, with porcelain skin and pale blond hair flowing around her shoulders. Intelligence blazed from her bright blue eyes, but so did cynicism.
The other had mocha skin and large, soft brown eyes. She was also a picture of loveliness, her perfection marred only by a state-of-the-art prosthesis where her left ankle and foot should have been. She looked friendly, where her companion was aloof, and Trynn was instantly drawn to her. She bestowed a quick, tense smile on Trynn before she turned back towards their leader, who was speaking.
“I don’t like it much, but we’ll have to split up.” His silver eyes turned back towards Trynn, regarding her thoughtfully. “Snag, you’ve fulfilled your vow. Go. Della and I will remain behind and guard Phaidra.”
Trynn felt a flash of annoyance at the mistake, though she knew it was petty.
Before she could even draw breath, Snag dissipated into a vaporous cloud right before her eyes, and hurtled out through the window. The blond woman and the dark woman were right on his tail, followed an instant later by the brown-haired man. The eerie sound of rushing wind echoed behind them for a moment, and then all was still once more.
Trynn abruptly realized that she was still crouched on the floor by a puddle of her own sick, and scrambled to her feet.
“My name’s not Phaidra, it’s Trynn,” she said, happy when her voice barely quivered.
The Hollywood pinup girl stepped forward and steadied Trynn with a hand on her shoulder when her balance threatened to desert her.
“Of course it is,” she said. “You’ll have to excuse the lapse. It used to make me crazy whenever one of them slipped up and called me Irina, so believe me, I understand. My name’s Della, short for Delaney, and this is Tré.”
“Uh… hi,” Trynn said automatically, still completely bewildered.
“Now,” Della said in a no-nonsense tone. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Come on, you need to freshen up. I expect we’ll be stuck here waiting for a while.”
Before Trynn could protest, Della was herding her towards the bathroom with surprising effectiveness given her petite frame.
They were halfway across the suite before Trynn recovered her wits enough to put the brakes on. “I don’t need to freshen up, I need answers!” she snapped.
Della looked at her sympathetically. “You’ll get answers, don’t worry, but first you really do need to get cleaned up. No offense, Trynn, but vampire noses are sensitive, and not to put too fine a point on it, you smell.”
She wanted to be affronted by the gently delivered insult, but when she drew in breath to say something sharp, an unpleasant smell assaulted her. With a sinking feeling, she pulled her shirt up to her nose and sniffed.
Dear God. Okay—a shower was definitely necessary.
“Trynn, look. We aren’t going to hear anything for a while,” Della said. “You might as well take care of yourself first.”
There was a certain logic to that, even if Trynn didn’t much like it. She took a damned shower.
Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy robe, her wet hair plastered to her forehead. She found Della and Tré seated at the table, speaking quietly. When she came around the corner, they both looked up and Della smiled, though it was strained.
“Feeling better?” she asked.
“Yes and no,” Trynn answered cautiously. “No longer stinky. Still need answers.”
“Please, join us,” Tré said.
Della pushed the third chair out and gestured for Trynn to take it.
Sitting down, Trynn wrapped her hands around the steaming mug that had been placed on the table in anticipation of her return. It was tea. She sipped it and looked at the two vampires expectantly.
“Xander always says that Americans drink too much coffee and not enough tea,” Della said. “So we try to humor him—even though tea-drinking isn’t our natural instinct, so to speak.”
“Natural instinct?” Trynn echoed, confused. Then it dawned on her that these two were vampires, and probably preferred blood to bergamot. “Oh! Right… vampires. Uh, sorry. This has all been a bit much, to put it mildly.”
Della waved her off. “Don’t apologize. It takes a lot of getting used to.”
“So, what can you tell me?” Trynn asked, looking back and forth between the pair.
Della and Tré exchanged a look.
“We were actually about to ask you that question,” Della said.
“Me? Why?”
“We know what we overheard from Snag’s mind as we were arriving. But we don’t know everything,” Tré said. “We need you to tell us more about what’s been going on.”
Trynn swallowed and scrubbed a hand through her damp hair, gathering her scattered thoughts. “Um, yeah. Well—I’m a member of an online hacktivist group. We uncover and disseminate secret information when we feel it will have beneficial humanitarian effects.”
Della and Tré listened intently, letting her explain at her own pace.
“I don’t know as much as I’d like to about what’s going on, honestly,” Trynn said after a moment of awkward silence. “Just what I’ve been able to gather from emails I’ve been intercepting.”
“What kind of emails?” Tré asked, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table.
Trynn swallowed. “There’s an Eastern European underworld figure who has been amassing power and wealth at an astonishing rate. We have a few guesses about where he came from and how he’s doing i
t, but no one can really confirm any of it. We think he gained the vast majority of his wealth from illegal trafficking of weapons, drugs, and humans, all of which can be extremely lucrative.”
“Go on,” Tré prompted.
“Recently, it appears he’s been amassing his own private stockpile of weaponry and not reselling it.” She took a deep breath. “Our latest information suggests he’s planning a simultaneous attack with suitcase nukes in several cities around the region. The closest I’ve gotten to details was finding out about a scheduled meeting between this guy and a powerful Russian mafia kingpin in Damascus a few days ago.”
“Okay, that is legitimately terrifying,” Della said, her brown eyes growing wide.
Tré’s already pale skin went a bit paler, though his eyes grew sharp. “And your information is good? How certain are you about the details of this plan?”
Trynn hesitated. “We usually have excellent intel, since we hack it all ourselves. Most of these criminals assume that their information is safe behind firewalls and security devices. I can’t say that we’re right a hundred percent of the time, but I am absolutely confident that this guy, B. Kovac by name, met with someone who has access to nukes and bartered a deal. I saw an email with my own eyes—one arranging transport of the weapons.”
Tré swore under his breath in a language Trynn didn’t recognize, and ran his hands through his dark hair.
“This reeks of Bael,” Della observed quietly.
“Bael? The demon thing?” Trynn asked. “Yeah, that’s what Eris thought. He seemed pretty convinced of it.”
Della shivered visibly. “So, we think Bael has got this Kovac guy trying to destroy the world?”
“It seems quite likely,” Tré answered. “I’m not at all certain we have enough muscle to manage this.”
“Muscle? What do you mean?” Trynn asked.
Tré looked grim and angry. He pushed away from the table, rising to pace a few steps across the room. “I mean that four vampires may not be enough to avert this disaster—even when one of those vampires is Snag. I can’t guarantee they’ll be able to stop this attack and rescue Eris at the same time.”
Lovers Awakening Page 14
