Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

by Nashoda Rose

  I leaned back against the wall. Roarke was right. I needed my Ink.

  “Serafina, wake,” I whispered. “Sleep no more. Rest no longer.” I placed my palm on my right shoulder where my tattoo was and closed my eyes. My mind focused on Serafina’s form. Then I repeated the words over and over again. “Damn it, Serafina, it’s your move. You don’t want to lose, do you?” Nothing. Not a tickle, a slither, or a hint of heat. “Serafina.” I dug my nails through my shirt into the tattoo. “Checkmate.”

  I gasped as a hot stabbing sensation went up my arm to my shoulder. “Damn it, Serafina,” I moaned. “Be nice.”

  “I am being nice,” the featherlight voice replied.

  My eyes flew open to see the stunning woman standing in a brilliant white light, her eyes beaming a turquoise hue from their thin, dark-lined rims. Hair hung in a black-and-lavender blanket down her back to the floor, with tiny pearls interwoven within the strands. Face pale, lips thin, and nose matching her features, slender and narrow. Regal, sexy, and yet my Ink had a child-like attitude.

  The link between us remained, a thin string of light connecting us together, and yet Serafina could and did walk on her own. Often when I was a child, Serafina would drag me along like a puppy dog and refuse to go back to sleep when told.

  We’d been best friends. My only friend and I had missed her so damn much. A tear trailed down my cheek as I stared at her in front of me.

  “Damn you, Rayne-drop,” Serafina said in a whispered voice, which sounded raspy. “Leaving me locked up for so many years. I nearly died a few times, thanks to you.”

  “Serafina, I’m sorry. It was too dangerous at first, and then Anton had put a—”

  “Oh, fart on you. Look at me.” She gestured to her thin five-foot-nine form. “I’m a disgusting skinny piece of brittle wood because of you. Run your body into the ground again, and next time you need me, I’ll be dead.” Serafina took a step forward then smiled, revealing her white teeth that held two sharp fangs. “My beautiful little Rayne-drop. How are you? You feel better, look stronger.” She held out her hand and I took it. Then she yanked me to my feet and wrapped her arms around me and squeezed—tight. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed our games and adventures. Can we play chess? Oh, pretty please. I’ve been sleeping so long my brain needs stimulation.”

  “We don’t have time. I need your help. There are people after me, Serafina. I need to get out of here. They are—”

  Serafina’s nose twitched. “Scars, like you. Interesting. You’ve been busy. Finally, others I can meet and play with. Let’s go play dodge ball or oh, oh, I’m good at hide and seek.”

  I grabbed her hand when she went around the side of the house “No.” I softened my voice when I saw her disappointment. “There are others inside who want to hurt me. The Scars are fighting them. We have to leave and I need you to protect me.”

  Serafina scrunched her nose. “Pooh, I’m finally released from prison and no playing. I want to play, Rayne-drop.”

  The only way to work with Serafina was bribery, ‘cause she had a weakness—chess. “I swear we will play a game of chess as soon as we’re able.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Serafina gasped and her eyes widened. Then she moved closer to me and sniffed. “You smell like…” She giggled with her hand over her mouth. “A man. You were with a man, Rayne-drop. You’ve grown up since I last saw you. What was he like? Is his cock big?”

  I groaned. Serafina had changed since I’d last seen her, too. She was still childlike, yet she spoke with adult words, which she never used to do. “Serafina! Please.”

  Serafina sighed. “Okay, Rayne-drop. Chess. And I get to meet your man.”

  “Deal. We can’t go out the main gate. They will see us.”

  “No, they won’t.” Serafina peeked around the side of the house. “They are stupid vampires.”

  I gasped. Vampires. Shit.

  She raised both arms out to the side. “Come. I can mask us for thirty seconds. They won’t see or hear us. Don’t know if vampires can smell us, Rayne-drop. We go another way to be safe.”

  I went into her arms and the heat from her body sank into me. It was refreshing and soothing, like a blanket that had just come out of the dryer.

  “We go this way,” Serafina ordered. She held me to her as we walked across the lawn with no cover.

  I was terrified the vampires would see us, but the Mask held and there were no shouts as we reached the edge of the property.

  Serafina stopped. “I’ll throw you over the wall. But when I let you go, the Mask will drop. So be quick, quick. Okay?”

  I nodded.

  I stared up at the wall. It felt so familiar. Exactly the same as when I was twelve and trying to escape the compound, except I hadn’t had Serafina.

  Fear encased me and I felt like it was that day again. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t go back. Please let me get away. The memory intensified and I panicked seeing the wall, knowing it was too high to get over by myself.

  “Rayne-drop,” Serafina’s voice whispered.

  I stood trembling, staring at the wall, voices all around me. Anton shouting. Men shouting. Knowing I was going to be locked up.

  Serafina’s palm slapped me across the cheek and I staggered into the wall. I put my hand over the burning sting. “What did you do that for?”

  Serafina shrugged. “You were in zombie land. You want out of here, then suck it up. Time for a mental breakdown comes… well, never. Piss on it.” Serafina grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the wall. “Upsy-daisy.”

  Serafina hoisted me into the air, high enough for me to grab the ledge of the wall. I pulled myself up and over then jumped to the ground on the other side. Serafina’s light glowed bright red as it stretched to the limit.

  “Serafina, come to me.” Oh, God, don’t let her be stuck on the other side. That would trap us both.

  Serafina appeared, landing gracefully on her feet beside me.

  “Oh my, did you see that guy. The Taster.” Hack? “He is smashing hot. Like roll me over and—”

  My heart pounded. “You saw him? Was he okay?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “He came out of the house and dove on a vampire. I like a man who fights like that. New terms. Chess, and I get to meet him. This Hack guy.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I said. I’d agree to anything right now. “Now, come to me before I become too weak.”

  Serafina’s brows lowered. “Don’t get hurt. I have shit I still want to do and a man I need to meet.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Serafina pouted, but she did as requested, and there was a burst of burning heat as Serafina trailed a path from the link through my body to settle on my shoulder again.

  Then I ran onto the main road and hailed a cab. “Queen and Strachan.”

  I called Kilter from the cab, but there was no response, so I texted him that vampires were at the house and I was going to the gallery to meet Delara. I wasn’t going to mention Roarke, but Kilter already had trust issues and I wanted him to trust me, so I texted that Roarke was meeting me, too.

  I hopped out of the cab at the park a block from the gallery and walked under the massive gray stone arches then headed up the path between two rows of flower gardens until I reached the circular path. I saw a man standing with his back up against a maple tree smoking a cigarette. He pushed off and sauntered toward me. A border collie ran across his path, barking as it chased a squirrel, and he called the dog back and they both walked past.

  My skin prickled in warning and I turned to see Roarke. “Roarke.”

  He nodded to a wooden park bench a few feet away. “We’ll wait here for your Scars.”

  I shook my head. “No, I should go to the gallery. Delara is supposed to meet me there.”

  “The gallery isn’t safe. They’re watching it.”

  Oh shit. “I have to call Delara.”

  “Yes. She can meet us here.”

  I nodded. Taking out my cell, I
tapped on the screen until Delara’s number came up then hit Send. “Delara?”

  “Rayne,” she said breathless. “Thank God. You got out.”

  “I’m at the park by the gallery. With Roarke.”

  Silence then, “Stay there. Jedrik and I are on our way.”

  “Are the others okay?”

  “Yeah. A few scratches, but nothing Anstice can’t heal. See you in fifteen.”

  “Okay.” I hung up and texted Kilter where I was.

  “You used your Ink to get out?” Roarke asked.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He half-smiled and, with his hand on my lower back, guided me over to a park bench. He sat, but I hesitated. “You have nothing to fear, Rayne. You know I’d never harm you.” The streetlights glimmered off his face and there was nothing but softness. “I need you to understand why I couldn’t risk taking you away from Anton.”

  I sat beside him.

  He kept his voice low as he said, “I didn’t intend to work for your husband. I was searching for a place in this world to settle, but it was for the simple reason of peace, which is impossible when we’re hunted by Scars. Agreed, most of the CWOs are cruel and are ruined by greed, but a few of us remain who seek peace.”

  “The compound wasn’t a haven, Roarke. It was hell,” I said, anger now overriding the anxiety. “You’re a Grit, if you didn’t like what my husband was doing, you could’ve stopped it.”

  He sighed, lowering his head and staring at the ground. “Yes, perhaps I could’ve, but I would’ve never left you—never. Never risked your life. I care about you, Rayne.”

  “You don’t even know me. Not really. That girl you knew was an empty shell of who I am. I’m not that person anymore.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Why, Roarke? Why, when you knew how much I hated Anton, did you continue to watch what he was doing? Did you know what he’d planned for Ryker and me?”

  He cleared his throat. “Once our union failed, I knew he wanted to breed you with a Scar. He was obsessed with getting a child that was stronger than any of us. But it was her idea—the woman, Jasmine.” He continued, “The Scars he attacked, the ones he sent Ben and the others to capture, they weren’t supposed to be killed. I wasn’t there when they went after them because I was with Jasmine.” He hesitated. “She knew I cared for you. That was my mistake,” Roarke said. “If I didn’t do it…”

  “What?” I asked. I knew it couldn’t be good, and by the way he was tense, his brows low and face strained, it was painful.

  “She gave me reminders of what would happen to you if I didn’t do what she asked.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Rayne, it’s not important what she did, just that she is dangerous and will hurt you.”

  “What did she do, Roarke?”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” I opened my mouth, but he scowled and I closed it again. “When the Scars escaped the compound she found out it was my fault. I let them escape.”

  What? “But you weren’t even at the compound at the time. I was the one who helped Kilter find Ryker and took them to the roof.”

  “When you disappeared for twelve hours, I came back to the compound to help search for you. I knew you were in the air vent with the Scar, Rayne. I wanted you to escape with him, so I kept everyone out of that wing as much as I could.”

  God, he knew Kilter and I had been in the air vent.

  “Jasmine has merged with the vampires.” Roarke glanced at me. “If vampires are after you, then she told Liam about you. You’re very valuable to the Scars.”

  “Why?”

  “Jasmine is a Lilac, Rayne.” I’d heard about Lilacs, of course, but never saw one, at least I thought I hadn’t. Obviously, I had if that woman was one. “She knew Anton before I did. She’s the one who brought me to the compound.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them. “I’ve been watching her. Saw her go into to Liam’s club over six months ago. Not much else has happened up until a few weeks ago. Then I saw her meet with him again. They’re planning something.” He raised his head and our eyes locked. “I saw Jasmine at the compound after the Scars blew it up. She said you belonged to her.”

  “BACK AWAY, DAMIEN,” WALERON ordered.

  I slowly rose. “Abbs, the water—fuck—it spilled on your face. You changed it to blood.” I stared into her eyes, praying there was some semblance to the girl I’d grown to… No, I couldn’t love her. I didn’t. Christ, she’s a fuckin’ vampire. “You know what that means, don’t you, baby?”

  Her eyes gleamed an intense crimson—like all vampires who were starving—and black lines ran underneath them, but her young, flawless skin was as white as doves. She stared at me with her upper lip curled, revealing two long, white fangs. Her head tilted to the side and her black lashes flickered while watching me with fearlessness.

  Abruptly, she leapt onto the heels of her feet, crouching low on the bed, as if ready to attack. Then a low hiss escaped her lips.

  Could she distinguish who I was? Did she know what happened?

  Her body tensed and vibrated as a bolt of energy shot into her and she flew back onto the bed.

  “Waleron, no.”

  “She’s a vampire now. Think about what you’re doing.” His rough tone stopped me from going to Abby. “She’s a new vampire in a frenzy for blood. Nothing is clear in her mind except what her body craves. Do not approach or you will be her first meal. We need her shackled.”

  “Jesus, Waleron.” My entire body rebelled at harming the woman I’d grown to care for. How was I supposed to do this? What was Waleron going to do with her? Shit, what was I going to do?

  He spoke to me telepathically, and I suspected it was in case Abby could decipher what we were saying. “Release your Ink. She cannot take blood from it. Have it shackle her and put the pillowcase over her head.”

  “Fuck, no.”

  “You will or I will have no choice but to kill her,” Waleron ordered.

  I smashed my fist into the wall so hard my knuckles bled.

  “Damien, call to it now,” Waleron demanded.

  I took my eyes off Abby and glanced at Waleron. “I can’t control it. You know this. And he hates you.”

  “I will stay clear of him.”

  Fuck, I hated my Ink.

  “Now,” Waleron demanded.

  I clenched my jaw and said to myself the words to call my Ink to life. “Rise to me. Bring forth life. Rise, faithful familiar, and breathe to protect.”

  There was tingling in my shoulder then a slow burning on skin as my Ink awakened and slid down my arm to my palm. A beam of red heat penetrated my skin until a burst of white light swirled into the room.

  Abby hissed and covered her eyes with her arm from the brilliant light. Waleron remained still, his eyes on my Ink as the light disappeared and in its place rose what looked like a saber-toothed tiger mixed with a human. Long, white fangs hung from a box-shaped muzzle that was covered in black skin. Piercing burgundy eyes, large and narrowed, glared with menacing intent at me and Waleron. My Ink uncurled to stand upright, his body covered in burnt-orange-and-black-striped fur. His hands were free of fur, but his nails were daggers, long and curved—deadly.

  “Simian,” I said, “the woman is mine.”

  Waleron snorted.

  “She’s not to be harmed, but must be contained. Shackle her with the chains then cover her head so she cannot see.” I lowered my voice and repeated, “She is not to be harmed, Simian.”

  My Ink turned his burgundy eyes to me with a low snarl then swept his fingernails across the wall, plaster breaking and falling to the floor. Shit, this was such a bad idea. But I knew Simian was our only chance at getting Abby controlled without killing her.

  “Simian, do what I ask. Now.” I held my breath. My Ink was unpredictable and more often than not didn’t do as he was told.

  His head jerked in Waleron’s direction. Simian dove for him, his massive paw-hands striking out a
t Waleron’s throat. “Simian, no,” I barked, but Waleron had disappeared into mist, leaving him striking at air.

  “Simian!” I shouted again. “Do as I say. The girl.”

  Waleron reappeared on the other side of the room, his face expressionless as if he’d expected the attack.

  Abby made a low screech as Simian tilted his head and slowly started toward her. I stepped forward, ready to attack my Ink if need be, although I was uncertain who would win. It wouldn’t really matter though. If I died, so did he.

  Abby hissed and clawed at him, her eyes wild as the beast came toward her. She scooted backward on the bed, still crouched as if any second she was going to leap through the air.

  I held my breath.

  Simian’s padded paws made no sound on the floor as he inched closer until his knees touched the mattress. Abby screamed and tried to dart past him, but despite his size, he was quick and agile. He grabbed her forearm and dragged her up against him. She struggled, her fists pounding on his chest.

  “Simian.” I hoped like hell my Ink wouldn’t snap her neck.

  He turned toward me, and for an instant, I thought I saw emotion from him, which was something Simian lacked—aside from hatred. He always looked the same, mean and cruel, with a hate-on for females. But when I looked into his eyes, I noticed uncertainty and something else. Remorse? Could Simian feel that emotion?

  He wrapped his arms around Abby to control her struggling, burying her head into his shoulder to quiet her screams. His large paw-hand stroked the back of her head. Then he did something I had never seen before—he licked the side of her face.

  Holy fuck.

  “Tell him to shackle her, Damien,” Waleron said.

  “Simian, Abby is sick. We must help her. I need her shackled so she doesn’t harm herself.” I tried to use a calm approach with the way my Ink was acting. For some reason, Simian was protective of Abby, which could be beneficial or completely backfire.

  Abby was quiet now, her limp body up against Simian’s as he continued to stroke her head. Come on, Simian. For once, don’t be a fuckup.

  He slowly lowered Abby onto the bed then, with careful hands, placed the chains from the bedposts around her wrists. I noticed how gentle and caring he was, as if he knew she’d react if he handled her roughly.