“Hayden?”
“Hello,” he said, a smile creeping across his face. “And you are?”
A knife planted in her chest couldn’t have damaged the way those three words did. Aisling recoiled from him, taking a step away from the man she loved.
She couldn’t even force her lips to form her name, couldn’t find air enough to give it life; could only stare in shocked horror.
“Oh!”
Hayden smacked a palm against his forehead and shook his head.
“Aisling! How could those delicious chocolate eyes belong to anyone else?”
She still couldn’t speak. There was something... wrong with the way he spoke. With his easy smile. Aisling knew she should be relieved that he recognized her but suddenly she didn’t recognize him.
“Sorry,” he said, holding out a hand. “I can tell that you’re confused. I’m Hunter.”
Hunter?
Hayden’s brother. Hayden’s twin brother. Why hadn’t he mentioned that he had a twin? That seemed like an awfully big thing to forget to mention. Aisling tried to remember all of the things that Hayden had said about his brother. Plenty of things—all bad—but nothing about his age or what he looked like.
Aisling reached out slowly to take Hunter’s hand but he didn’t shake it. Instead, he raised it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back, like an old-fashioned gentleman. She recoiled internally, wanting to pull her hand away, but not wanting to seem rude. How could someone who looked exactly like Hayden make her feel so uneasy?
Hunter released her and she took an instinctive step back. His eyes flashed. Hunter hadn’t missed the movement but he didn’t comment on it either.
“Were you on your way to see my brother?” he asked.
Aisling didn’t know how to answer. Clearly, Hayden had told Hunter about her. How could those delicious chocolate eyes belong to anyone else?
Hayden thinks my eyes are delicious? Focus! She tried to herd her scattered thoughts, a task that was not made easier by not-Hayden’s gray eyes staring at her expectantly.
“Uh... I guess Hayden didn’t tell you about us?”
Hunter laughed, a booming noise that drew the attention of several passing people.
“Oh,” he said, “I’ve heard of nothing else the last two weeks.”
Aisling’s heart stuttered to a stop then took off again at a run.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Two weeks. Hayden had asked her to keep her distance while his brother was in town. Maybe he’d just forgotten to text her. Maybe he still loved her. It was too much to hope for.
“I’m on my way to the apartment now,” Hunter told her. “Would you like to come? I’m sure Hayden would love to see you.”
Yes! Everything in Aisling screamed yes to going to Hayden’s apartment—everything except the memory of Hayden saying, “I don’t want him anywhere near you.” He had sounded so concerned when he said it. But they were going to Hayden’s apartment. He would be there. He’d never let anything happen to her.
Would he?
Just because his brother says he talks about you doesn’t mean he still cares about you. Or that he ever did. Aisling slammed a lid down on that particularly unhelpful thought. Hard.
“Okay.”
Hunter’s grin broadened and he threw a casual arm across her shoulders.
“Let’s go then!”
The walk to Hayden’s apartment was short, which Aisling was glad for because she couldn’t think of a reason to shrug off Hunter’s arm without being rude. Having it there was creeping her the hell out. He finally released her to unlock the building’s front door. She took the opportunity to get well ahead of him while he locked the door behind them. He caught up with her on the third floor.
“It was lucky, bumping into you today,” he told her.
Aisling made a noncommittal noise that she hoped was somewhere between “Yeah, sure” and “I guess so”. She tried to keep her pace steady as she climbed the next flight of stairs. Her heart had other ideas; it was currently outside Hayden’s apartment, banging on the door, and begging him to take her back.
The last flight of stairs seemed to take forever. Uncertainty was an invisible stone, pressing Aisling into each step, making it harder and harder to keep going. Would he take her back? Would he want to see her? She was trying to think of a way to apologize for acting like a hussy when Hunter stopped in front of Hayden’s door. He unlocked it, letting it swing wide, and gestured for Aisling to enter in front of him.
Her eyes darted around the apartment, looking for Hayden. A nervous prickle ran up her spine. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. They were the only rooms she could see from the doorway. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go inside if Hayden wasn’t there. The more time she spent with his brother, the more ill at ease she felt.
“Everything okay?”
Hunter’s voice, spoken far too close to her ear, made Aisling jump. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her nothing but his chest. He was blocking the doorway with his body. Aisling tried very hard to tell herself that it was no reason to freak out, that she wasn’t trapped, that it was Hunter’s brother, for godsake, but nothing silenced the sirens roaring through her head. She wasn’t sure whether or not Hayden still cared about her but she was absolutely certain that he wouldn’t want her to be alone in his apartment with his creepy brother.
Hunter hurts people.
Oh, God. Please let Hayden be here. Please.
“Hayden?”
“Yo! Bro!”
Aisling instinctively moved away from Hunter when he shouted, which gave him the room he needed to move inside and shut the door.
Sirens. Alarms. Big, flashing red lights. Bad. Being alone in the apartment with Hunter was a very, very bad idea. Aisling swallowed around the hard lump in her throat that hadn’t been there a moment before.
“Um, it doesn’t look like he’s home. I think maybe I should just come back—”
“Don’t be stupid,” Hunter said. He leaned back against the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m sure Hayden will be back any minute. Why don’t we call and find out?”
Yes. Call Hayden. Good idea. Very good idea. Then, call the police. And maybe the national guard.
Hunter pulled a smart phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and raised the device to his ear. He was still grinning. Hayden never smiled like that, easy, like it cost him nothing. Every smile from Hayden was fought for, wrenched from him like a glittering jewel in a dark cave. God, she wished Hayden was there. That smile was really creeping her out. Surely no one smiled that much.
“Hey, bro,” he said, making Aisling’s heart pick up a notch.
“Yeah, I’m back at the apartment. Hey! You’ll never guess who I bumped into on my way here.”
Aisling was absolutely certain that Hunter was enjoying himself, in the way a cat bats a defenseless little mouse around before chomping off its head.
I don’t want to be a mouse!
Balancing his cellphone between his shoulder and ear, Hayden rolled his eyes.
“Hunter, I really don’t give a damn. I’m at St. Joseph’s, up to my elbows—literally—in your mess. Priests, Hunter? Really?”
Hunter ignored him, carrying on with the conversation he’d like to have, rather than the one he was actually having. Typical Hunter. Annoyed, Hayden blew the hair out of his face and waited for his brother to get on with it.
“I’ll give you a hint: she has dark brown hair, curves to make a guy drool, and eyes that look like hot chocolate.”
Hayden’s world dropped away.
“Makes me want to eat. Her. Up.”
The phone fell, landing with a squelch in something almost unidentifiable as previously human. Hayden didn’t even notice; a roar had started in his ears and his vision swam.
No. Not Aisling. Please don’t let him have Aisling. Anything but that. Anyone but her.
/> “Hello? Little brother? Are you still there?”
Hayden became distantly aware of his brother’s taunting voice, somewhere on the edge of his consciousness. He fought against the terror clawing at him, trying to drag him into a place darker than Hell. His hand reached out, fingers sliding against the sticky floor, bumped against a rectangle of metal, and held on for dear life. It took more willpower than he would have thought he possessed to raise the phone to his ear. Globs of blood and flesh and... other things dripped unnoticed onto his shirt.
“Let me talk to her,” he ground out.
Hunter laughed. “I can’t believe you wanted to keep this little treat all to yourself,” he said. “Didn’t Mother teach you to share?”
Hayden ignored the barb.
“Put her on,” he snapped. “Now.”
“Hello?”
Hayden took a shuddery breath, closing his eyes in relief. She was okay. He sent a prayer of gratitude up to a god that had no business listening to him, covered as Hayden was in the blood of His sons.
Please, he begged. Please just get her out of there in one piece. I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to control Hunter. At that moment, he could happily kill his brother.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he said.
The last couple of weeks had eaten him alive. He’d wanted to go to her so many times—but, with Hunter breathing down his neck, she was safer well away from him, even if it was because she hated him. He’d hated himself too, after that night. Aisling had offered him her love, her body, and he’d lost control. How could he ever forgive himself for that? How could she?
“Oh, Hayden,” Aisling said, her breath catching on unshed tears. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
The words came out in a rush, as if she was afraid that she wouldn’t get the chance to say them later. At that moment, Hayden was terrified of the same thing.
“I should have given you the time you needed. I can’t believe I threw myself at you like that. It was stupid of me to—”
“Aisling,” he interrupted. “Don’t say another word.”
Silence.
“Listen to me. This is important, okay?”
Hayden could picture her nodding.
“Yes.”
“Good. Get out. Run, if you have to. Don’t stop for anything. Get out of the building and get somewhere safe.”
More silence.
“You’re in danger. Do you understand?”
Aisling’s voice was tiny when she answered. “Yes.”
“Okay. Now, when I tell you to, hand the phone to my brother and run, okay?”
“Yes.”
“Aisling?”
“Yes?”
“I love you. Go.”
Hayden could hardly hear her whispered, “I love you” over the pounding in his ears. Adrenaline made his hands shake as he pushed himself up. The priests were forgotten, their bodies a tragic blasphemy.
Aisling handed the phone to Hunter. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her once during her conversation to Hayden and he didn’t when she passed the phone back. He was still smiling, though there was darkness lurking in his stormy gray eyes.
“Hello, brother.”
She rocked on the balls of her feet, ready to run the second Hunter looked away. Aisling couldn’t help but steal glances at the door, tried to judge the length of time it would take her to reach it. Whether she could get there before Hayden’s crazy brother.
“Relax,” she heard him say. “You’ll live longer.” Whatever Hayden said in reply made him laugh.
“Well, don’t rush. I’m sure we can entertain ourselves until you get here.”
Hunter reached for a bottle of wine on the counter. Aisling saw her chance. She ran for the door. She didn’t make it. He beat her there, laying a palm against the wooden surface and forcing it back into place. The movement put her between him and the door. She was trapped. Trapped with someone even his own brother feared.
“Don’t you want to wait for Hayden?” he asked conversationally. “He’s on his way back now.”
Unless he could fly, Aisling doubted very much that Hayden could get there before his brother did—well, whatever the sick bastard had in mind.
Hunter hurts people.
His hand landed on Aisling’s waist, making her stomach somersault and her skin crawl. Please, she thought. I don’t want to be a mouse.
Hunter leaned close, whispering into Aisling’s ear.
“Now, how shall we entertain ourselves until Little Brother gets home?”
He could feel Aisling tremble beneath his fingers. Heard her pulse pounding like a drum. Smelled her fear, coming off her in waves. It was all Hunter could do to keep from tearing her apart right there, on his brother’s doorstep. After everything Hayden had done for him—and, yes, that was sarcasm—Hunter thought he deserved a little something in return.
Hands gripping her waist, Hunter forced Aisling to turn. To face him. Her breath caught and he thought it showed an amazing amount of restraint on his part to tilt her chin up to look at him, instead of swallowing her whole. Hunter awarded himself ten points for being such a thoughtful brother.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, even though he wanted her to be very, very afraid. The look of pure terror in her eyes told Hunter that she knew exactly what he wanted.
Well, maybe not exactly but she must have had a good idea—and Hunter was eager to clarify.
“You are afraid, though, aren’t you?”
Aisling hesitated, as if she was afraid her answer would only make things worse. Hunter might have told her that nothing could make her situation worse but that would have spoiled the surprise. And he did love surprises.
Hunter leaned over her, so close their cheeks almost touched, and whispered, “I can smell it on you.”
She went rigid, and so did he. Her fear was an aphrodisiac, making Hunter strain against his jeans. The ache was mirrored by a throbbing pain along his gums. Time for another surprise. He smiled.
Aisling screamed when Hunter grinned at her, baring twin pairs of wickedly sharp canines. The sound was swallowed by his hungry mouth. His tongue invaded her mouth in a mocking parody of the kiss she once shared with Hayden. She tried to twist her head away, to break contact, but Hunter wouldn’t allow it. He grabbed a handful of hair and twisted it painfully around his fist, holding Aisling in place.
Tears sprang to her eyes; they were partly from the pain Hunter was inflicting upon her, partly from the fear of what was to come, and partly from the certainty that she would never see Hayden again. Hunter said Hayden was on his way. Was that true? Even if it was, Aisling doubted he could make it before Hunter...
She couldn’t even imagine the atrocities he had planned for her.
Pain exploded in Aisling’s mouth as Hunter bit her tongue. His elongated canines ripped and tore at her, filling her mouth with the coppery taste of blood. Aisling fought against swallowing the foul stuff but there was too much; she was forced to swallow or choke.
She swallowed. And swallowed again. And again. It was too much. Her mouth stung where Hunter’s invading tongue probed the tears he made. There were so many; her mouth felt like it was one big wound. Even so, there was too much blood. Much too much. Could a person bleed out from their mouth? Aisling didn’t think so but she didn’t to find out either.
She pounded her fists against Hunter’s chest. She dragged her nails across his face. She kicked at his legs. Nothing Aisling did to fight him even registered with Hunter. The lick, bite, thrust of his assault went on and on, until Aisling lost the will to fight back. She went limp against him.
Hunter laughed, scooping her up in one fluid movement and tossing her over his shoulder. Her head thudded against his back. She barely had time register the fact that he was carrying her when he plopped her unceremoniously on the old leather sofa in the living room. Even if she had been able to form a coherent thought, Hunter gave her no time to attempt an escape; resting his elbows on her knees
, he caught her wrists in his hands as he knelt in front of her.
“So, Aisling...”
There was no way she could have responded, even if she wanted to; Aisling’s brain was like mush. Her limbs were heavy and it felt like her belly was full of cooling lava. What was happening to her? Was she dying?
“I understand you made my brother an offer.”
Hunter released her hands to push her legs apart. His hands traveled up her thighs—and kept going.
“He rejected you, didn’t he?”
The pain of Hayden’s rejection sprang to life anew. It joined the throbbing ache in her mouth and the stabbing pain that had just begun in her gut.
“Let me tell you this,” Hunter said. There was a sound of tearing fabric. Cool air met the burning flesh of her stomach. “I would never refuse the advances of a pretty girl.”
Hunter lunged at her. Aisling screamed but the sound never left her mind.
“Hunter!”
The word was born of panic and desperation. Hayden rushed into his apartment, oblivious to the snapping of wood, the popping hinges as he threw the door open.
“Where are you? Goddammit, answer me!”
There was a noise, barely a whisper, from the living room.
Oh, God. No. No, please.
He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see his worst nightmare come to life, but his feet were already moving in that direction, dragging him into Hell. The sight that met him drove him to his knees. Bile rose in his throat.
Blood. The sight, the smell was overwhelming. His living room was a chamber of death. The battered old sofa that he’d dragged across a dozen states was slashed, torn; stuffing leaking from savage tears like pus from an open wound. The second-hand coffee table where Aisling had spent many hours, bent over a text book, was smashed. Splinters of wood scattered the floor. On top of it all, like a neglected, broken doll, was Aisling.
Protectors of the Veil Page 7
