Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

Home > Romance > Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2) > Page 31
Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2) Page 31

by Nashoda Rose


  Kilter looked from one to the other then bent and grabbed the paper from the floor. After he read it, his eyes darted to Delara. “True?”

  Liam laughed, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Of course it is.” His hand slid up my spine to curl around the back of my neck. “Meet your blood parents, Rayne. Waleron and Delara.”

  A VAMPIRE BEHIND ME grabbed my arm and supported most of my weight as my knees gave out.

  This wasn’t right.

  It couldn’t be. This was a trick in order to make certain Waleron negotiated with him. The document had to be a fake.

  But I didn’t need a document. None of us did. Delara’s expression said it all.

  “What the fuck?” Kilter said. “How could you not know?” He ran his head over his hair back and forth.

  “I miscarried,” Delara said, her voice a graveled whisper, eyes swimming with tears. “I was told my baby died. They told me my baby was born dead. I saw her. Oh, God, I saw…”

  My eyes shifted to Waleron as his cold and abrupt voice echoed. “You were pregnant? With my fuckin’ child?”

  “Waleron, please, I—” The tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes wide with devastation and her sultry, olive skin now gray.

  “My child? My fuckin’ child?” His voice was filled with so much rage it was unrecognizable. “You kept that from me?”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “You couldn’t?” Waleron shouted. “You fuckin’ couldn’t?” He turned, walked to the door, hesitated, and then slammed his fist into the metal frame. It groaned and complained under the pressure—then silence.

  No one spoke.

  Waleron remained facing the door. His energy radiated rage and confusion, but with the slight head bow, he also looked—broken. I glanced at Delara, who had her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  I heard material tear and my gaze went to her fingers curled into her cargo pants. I did that. Oh, my God, I did that whenever I was upset or worried.

  My parents? A Scar Taldeburu and a Scar Tracker’s child.

  That was why Liam was so confident about tonight. He knew this was huge. That he could use me against Waleron—a Taldeburu’s daughter. That was what Roarke had tried to warn me about. He’d said Jasmine would use me against them. He knew.

  Waleron turned and walked back, his face a mask of hard, stern lines. He ignored Delara, even stood further away from her.

  Liam smiled. “Now I believe we can negotiate. I’ll give you Rayne, unharmed as you can see, but—” he hesitated, licking his lower lip as if anticipating the reaction, “—Abigail will come with me and you, Waleron, will willingly return to Jasmine.”

  Delara gasped.

  Waleron remained stoic as if he’d expected what Liam demanded.

  This was what Jasmine planned, using me in order to get Waleron back, and she merged with Liam in order to make it happen.

  Waleron said, “I say again, we don’t negotiate.”

  Liam’s brows rose with surprise; then he hissed and a scowl appeared. He no longer looked like the handsome, charming vampire. “Then I will give your daughter to Jasmine. You know how that will turn out.”

  I stiffened.

  “No, fuck no,” Kilter shouted then let out a loud roar and attacked before Waleron could stop him. He leapt at Liam, fury pulsating in his eyes, fire burning as the pupils turned red. Liam yanked me in front of him and his arm hooked my neck.

  Three vampires appeared from the beams above and tackled Kilter to the floor. He struggled against them, but they had his arms behind his back and jerked him to his feet. He kicked out and sent one staggering back, but the other punched him in the face and blood splattered from his nose.

  “No,” I screamed. “Stop.” I flailed against Liam’s hold, but he tightened his arm until I could no longer breathe.

  I clawed at his arm, eyes wide as I frantically tried to suck in air.

  “Enough,” Waleron shouted. “Let her go, Liam.”

  “When her lover stops, I stop.”

  Kilter instantly stilled, breath ragged as he fought to draw in air. The vampires pushed him back to Waleron and Delara.

  Liam released me and I sucked in gulps of air.

  Waleron looked over to the right in the shadows. “Keir, get him out of here. Take Abby, too.”

  Liam hissed. “Stupid. Do you know what Jasmine will do to her?”

  Waleron nodded. “Yes.”

  Kilter flinched and his eyes shot to mine. The devastation nearly broke me. Let me be strong. I have to be strong for him.

  Keir came up beside Kilter. “Not the time,” Keir warned.

  Kilter’s eyes remained on me, piercing and staring into me as if desperate to read my thoughts, to know if he walked away, I’d be okay. I raised my chin, half-smiled, and nodded.

  “Babe.”

  “Go,” I said.

  He grunted then turned and walked away with Keir.

  Waleron addressed Liam. “You will never have Abby.” His eyes narrowed and his fingers curled into fists. “And tell Jasmine I’m coming for her.”

  Liam shoved me into the arms of one of his vampires. “You walk away now, you’ll never have your daughter back.”

  “No. Tell Jasmine she can have me. Take me,” Delara cried stepping forward.

  “We don’t negotiate,” Waleron stated and grabbed Delara’s forearm, pushing her toward the door. She tripped and fell to her knees. He didn’t seem to care as he roughly pulled her up and kept walking.

  The door opened and slammed shut behind them.

  Silence.

  Then Delara’s haunted cry wrenched through the night air.

  I stood in the library, frozen. Unable to do anything except fight all the emotions shifting through me. My Ink violently slithered around my neck, burning a path, desperate for escape. I’d taken three pills since we left the meeting and they’d done fuck all.

  Nothing had prepared me for the news tonight. Nothing. I couldn’t even look at Delara. If I did, I was afraid of what I’d do to her.

  A daughter? Mine and Delara’s.

  That night replayed in my head for years, over and over like a broken record. A night I had tried desperately to forget, to numb out with the pills, and yet it always lingered, haunting me.

  “Waleron?” Keir walked into the library. “Should we contact the Wraiths and Trinity?”

  I’d lost the ability to fear anything a long time ago. But now it crept back into me at the thought of my daughter. A daughter I didn’t know existed. A daughter who’d been used for years as a science experiment. A daughter now being used as a pawn in a dangerous game I didn’t know if I could win.

  And Delara. I knew she hurt. She hadn’t known about Rayne being alive, and yet I couldn’t be near her because what I feared more than anything was losing control. If that happened, no one would be safe.

  Jasmine. All these years, she’d had Rayne. Waiting for the day she could use her against me. Lure me back into her prison and destroy Delara at the same time.

  I turned my attention to Keir. “There’s no time to go to the realm and inform the Wraiths. We go in hard and fast.” Before Jasmine disappeared with Rayne.

  Keir nodded. “I’ll call everyone to the library and—”

  I held my hand up then quickly lowered it when I noticed it tremble. “No. Not yet. I need a minute.”

  Keir hesitated before nodding and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

  I reached into my pocket, hand curling around what kept my control. Then I collapsed onto the couch, elbows on my knees, hands hanging between my legs, and head bowed.

  I had a fuckin’ daughter who I may have just sent into hell.

  WE DIDN’T RETURN TO Liam’s penthouse; instead, we went to his club—well, I assumed it was his club.

  Liam led the entourage past the bar down a dark corridor with dim red lights that flickered. He stopped at a door at the end of the corridor and punched a code into a box. Shivers trickled through me. A
reminder of the compound. Code boxes. Locked doors. Security everywhere.

  Liam walked down the stairs. I hesitated and a hand shoved me forward. “Move.”

  I held onto the handrail as I followed Liam down the stairs into complete darkness. A click sounded and my heart jumped, but it wasn’t the cock of a gun; instead, fluorescent lights flickered on.

  I stood in a room with cement walls with several thick, wooden beams across the ceiling. A long, rustic, wooden table sat in the middle with twelve chairs. A chandelier hung from one of the beams above. The only warmth in the room was the worn-out red and black rug beneath the table.

  Liam nodded to the vampire next to me and he snagged my elbow, guiding me to the far end of the room. I glanced over my shoulder at the stairs. At my only escape. Two vampires stood in front of them. Not that it was even a possibility I’d make it to the stairs, even if they hadn’t stood there.

  He pulled me to the far wall, pushing me against it. “Stay.”

  Coldness seeped into my body, but it wasn’t from the damp cement wall I leaned against, it was from fear. No matter how much I’d changed since Anton, I was still scared, but it didn’t mean I was giving up.

  That was what was different. I could be scared, but I’d fight. I wouldn’t give in to them. I’d die before I did. And I had a feeling that might happen.

  The door opened and shut at the top of the stairs. Then high heels clicked on the stairs. I bit the inside of my cheeks as I waited for her to appear. And I knew who it had to be—Jasmine.

  The two vampires guarding the stairs stepped aside and she strolled into the room. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pursed and she looked seriously pissed off. My heart raced and I leaned back against the wall as my knees threatened to give out.

  “He refused?” Jasmine shouted.

  Oh, God. Even when we were fighting in the alley, she hadn’t shouted; she had been in control. Now she looked out of control.

  She approached Liam. “For his own daughter?”

  Her anger pulsed from her body and seeped into me. My breath hitched when I felt all the hatred inside her. But there was something else mixing with it…love—but not a good love. This was infatuated and possessive love.

  Her eyes darted to me, and despite wanting to cower under her gaze, I raised my chin and met her glare. She approached, stopping inches away. “You’re worthless.” Then she slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side and my vision blurred for a second.

  Jasmine backhanded me again.

  A warm trickle of blood slid from the corner of my mouth.

  “Jasmine,” Liam warned. “She is no good to us beaten or dead.”

  Jasmine scoffed. “Bitch is useless to me now. Kill her and be done with it.”

  “No,” Liam objected. “They’ll come for her. I know Delara. She won’t allow her daughter to stay with us, and Waleron will do anything for her.”

  “I told you they wouldn’t negotiate,” Jasmine fumed. “She comes with me and we do this my way. Losing him is unacceptable.”

  My gut twisted.

  Jasmine grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. “I won’t wait any longer. I will have him back, and until I do, she will pay the price.”

  I stood in the front doorway facing a man I never thought in my immortal lifetime I’d ever face without plunging a knife through his heart. But I’d do anything to get Rayne back, even if it meant using a Grit to do it.

  Keir came up behind me. “What’s he doing here?” His hand was on his hip where his knife sat.

  “I called him.” I’d found the piece of paper on the floor of Rayne’s bedroom. “Grit saved my life. Not sure why yet, but right now, I don’t give a shit. He knows more than we do, so he’s here and he’s going to help us.”

  Keir glared at Roarke. “You fuck with us, you see that vase over there,” he nodded to a blue, glass vase sitting on the narrow table in the foyer, “your head is going in there as a trophy.”

  Roarke glanced at the vase and then back at Keir. The guy had balls, that was for fuckin’ sure because the corner of his lips curved up. Jesus, Grits had a fuck of a lot of nerve. He was in a house full of Scars and he didn’t look at all concerned. In another lifetime, I may have respected him. Too bad we were immortal and had no other lifetimes.

  Roarke propped up against the frame of the door and crossed his arms. “Liam failed. Jasmine will take her, and I know where she is staying.” Roarke no longer had blood on him, nor did he look in pain, meaning he’d healed, and if he’d healed, it meant he’d killed a human and sucked the life out of them to do it.

  Waleron came out of the library, stopped, looked at Roarke, and then gave a curt nod. He must have overheard our conversation; otherwise, Roarke would be dead right now.

  “She wants you,” Roarke said while keeping his eyes on Waleron. “But I suspect you knew that already.”

  Waleron didn’t say anything.

  Roarke continued, “She’ll be expecting us, but not tonight. If we go now, Rayne may have a chance, but,” he paused, looking at me, “Jasmine has a favorite device. It’s impossible to get out of without—”

  Waleron approached and said, “A key.”

  Roarke nodded. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the device?” Again Waleron nodded. “As am I.”

  “What fuckin’ device?” I didn’t like the word device and my girl in the same sentence.

  “Rayne will be wearing a collar,” Waleron stated. “It cannot be removed without a key. If it’s attempted, the collar will snap closed on her neck and kill her instantly.”

  I heard a gasp and the shuffling of feet behind us. I turned and saw Jedrik and Delara standing by the dining room doorway. Delara was pale, her eyes wide and filled with horror.

  Roarke glanced from Waleron to Delara then back again. “She wants you both to see Rayne suffer and,” Roarke directed his gaze on Delara, “she blames you for Waleron escaping her.”

  I couldn’t keep my cool any longer and shouted, “Damn it, where the hell will they take her?”

  “I tracked her to a house the night before last,” Roarke said. “It’s in the north end of the city. On Fairmount Street. Number eleven.”

  Waleron stiffened and his Ink’s eyes turned bright red.

  “What?” I asked.

  Keir answered. “Tarek’s house.”

  Fuck. Tarek. The rogue Scar who was currently in Rest for almost killing Delara a number of years ago.

  “Bring the witch-vampire,” Roarke said. “Liam will be there. We can distract him with her. You have no chance against Liam and his vampires as well as Jasmine and her followers. Give him the girl and he won’t care what happens to Jasmine.”

  “No,” Waleron stated. “We cannot let Abby near Liam.”

  “You’re planning to kill her anyway, right?” Roarke asked.

  No one said a word. Not even a shift in weight, then Waleron nodded.

  “Then kill her after we get Rayne.” Roarke pushed away from the doorframe. “Jasmine has the key. Go for her first. Release Rayne. If you can’t, then…” he paused and Waleron finished for him.

  “Jasmine will release Rayne in exchange for me,” Waleron concluded.

  Delara gasped. “Waleron, no.”

  Keir said, “We don’t negotiate, Waleron.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” he replied. “Get Abby,” he said to Keir. Then he turned to Roarke. “What do you get out of helping us?”

  Roarke shifted his gaze to me when he said, “Nothing. Except, I love her.”

  I STOOD PARALYZED ON my tiptoes with my arms stretched above my head. The vampire had attached thick steel bands around my wrists and hooked them to a dangling chain hanging from the ceiling. Blood stained the stone tiles beneath my feet as if they’d tortured and killed others here in this house.

  But worse than knowing others were killed here before me was the device around my neck. It had sharp metal spikes pointed toward my skin like a prong collar. If I moved my head, the spi
kes cut into my skin. Any larger movements or if I lost my footing, the spikes would puncture my neck.

  We’d moved from Liam’s club to the house an hour ago. It was clear Jasmine had the control and Liam was merely a puppet. Like me. Except I was a puppet who was going to be decapitated soon because my legs shook so badly I could barely keep my balance.

  Liam had watched Jasmine hook me up like a Christmas tree ornament. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in him, as he’d looked away several times, head bowed as if he regretted what this had come to.

  “Just think, my child. Your father had to remain like this for hours at a time. Sometimes, I left him for days just to see his resilience.” Jasmine ran a hand over my head in a soft caress and I flinched, but couldn’t move away. “He is stubborn. That is what I love about him. So controlled. I wish I’d seen his face today when he heard the news. When he found out his beloved Delara betrayed him.” Her fingers bunched in my hair and she yanked. The prongs dug into the back of my neck and I winced. “You’ve been a constant reminder that he escaped me in order to save that bitch. Tarek was supposed to kill her. Pathetic Scar.”

  All this time, she was waiting to use me against Waleron and Delara. I was her revenge on Delara and her plan to lure Waleron back into her prison.

  She let me go and I quickly took little steps to gain my balance. My toes cramped and I felt blood drip down the back of my neck where the spikes had pierced through my skin.

  “Did you know Roarke had the pleasure of this device, too?” Jasmine asked, her finger sliding down the side of my cheek. “Little reminders to behave himself every so often. That day the Scars escaped, Roarke was as you are right now.”

  Oh, God, Roarke. He’d told me he knew I was hiding in the air duct with the Scar. He’d tried to protect us.

  Jasmine’s finger pressed harder into my cheek and her nail broke the skin as she dragged it down to my jawbone. “That’s why he wasn’t there when Kilter came back for you. I kept him for weeks like you are now.” She dropped her hand from my face and walked to the bay window, parting the heavy blue curtains. “He’s a lot like Waleron, except I had to allow him a human every week to keep him alive. Stupid Grit wouldn’t kill them though. He’d suck just enough air to keep himself alive. Pathetic Grit. I planned on keeping him for myself if you hadn’t escaped.” She shrugged. “But I knew he’d come after you and I used that.”

 

‹ Prev