“Banan,” she whispered. “Banan came to see me last night.”
“Excuse me?” Nick cocked an eyebrow. “Exactly when did this happen?”
“I was in the kitchen. He just showed up. I thought he was Taris, so I didn’t say anything, and then when I found out it was him, I was too scared. We talked. I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t think he was here to steal Sarah.”
“Did he tell you where he was going?” Achan walked over to her, standing so close that it pulled an instinctive low growl from Nick, who seemed completely and totally shocked.
“No, he didn’t tell me.” Kalin spaced out for a moment, her pulse running so fast that it echoed through the room. “I hugged him and told him I wanted to make sure he was safe.” She stared down at her hand and sobbed.
Taris immediately dropped down to the side of the bed, tugging on his boots.
Achan looked down at Kalin’s hand and saw the still-pink line where a cut used to be. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Kalin, you have to tell us where he is.”
A penetrating growl pulled their collective attention toward Nick.
“Get your hands off of my wife,” he hissed.
Achan sneered, baring his fangs at him. “I’ve got more hands-on time with her than you will ever have, pal. We have a history, so don’t tell me what to do. Firstborn in a few hundred years or not, you’d better back it off. I’m trying to save your bestie. Don’t make me show you how to use those things.”
Nick stepped closer, his eyes turning dark. “I’ve had a crash course in earning my owner’s badge for them, so unless you want me to show you how good an amateur can be, I suggest you get your hands. Off. My. Wife.”
Achan stepped back and let go. Instantly, Nick’s face softened, and he put his arms around Kalin.
“It’s okay, honey. But we have to find Sarah. So can you tell us where she is?”
Kalin nodded and muttered something into his chest, the wracking sobs shaking them both. Nick brushed the hair away from her face and placed a loving kiss on the top of her head.
“Strip bar downtown. Large metal building.”
Taris gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and slapped Nick on the shoulder before hauling out of the room and calling for the others. Achan shut down the video screen and started to walk out, but then stopped in the doorway.
“Sorry about the macho flare, Nick. Stress and an ancient temper do that sometimes.”
Nick nodded, turning both himself and Kalin to face Achan. He smiled and shook his head.
“No worries. You can make it up to me when this is all over by buying me a beer sometime. Just…” He paused and swallowed the unshed tears in his throat. “Just bring her back.”
Achan nodded and left the room, making a mad dash for his own.
Chapter 30
The room was pitch black. Aside from the narrow strip of light that peeked in underneath the doorway, there was nothing but darkness surrounding her. She did her best to steady her breath, to try and remain calm, but there was no point. Her hands were wet behind her, the frayed rope used to lash her to the chair digging into her skin. There wasn’t a fleeting moment or a panicked minute when she wondered where she was or who brought her there. It was damned well apparent exactly who had stolen her from her bed. The question was how they’d managed to do it.
Shadows began to cast in the wake of feet just on the other side of the door, and she had to resist the urge to scream. She bit it back when the doorknob began to jiggle and the door slowly pushed open. The large figures stepped into the black space, flanking the smaller female form. With a quick flip, the overhead light flickered on, and she finally got a really good, full-on look.
Morrigan and her pinup hourglass figure all but leaned on the large man she’d seen before. Her dark hair was in long, framing waves around her face. Her eyes were a scary midnight blue. She had done a very good job of concealing the black rot inside with pretty wrapping.
There was another man with them this time, a large, scary, steel-colored bastard. The man she’d seen before—Bane—was to her left, only this time he had no makeup or hair gel to hide behind. He was shirtless, covered in blood-soaked bandages. The black roots were beginning to show underneath his shaggy, electric blue hair. Even his bare feet had bandages on them. On his muscled abdomen was a large black-and-gray tattoo of what looked like St. George battling the dragon. The muscles in his arms corded the exact same way as Taris’, and his narrow hips fit into his leather pants in a way that made Sarah catch her breath in complete shock.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Morrigan smiled and took a step forward, spinning around to look at Bane. “Without the shit this one puts on his face, they look so similar. The bone structure, their size.” She paused and turned to Sarah, staring her up and down with a wicked grin. “And I’m not just talking about their height, darling.”
Sarah’s feet twisted in complete anger and disgust. They were the only parts of her body she could move. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes as the clicks of Morrigan’s shoes on the floor signaled she was closing the gap between them. A wave of nausea hit her as she felt Morrigan directly behind her, leaning down.
“He even catches his breath the way Taris does when he comes.”
Morrigan’s lips touched the outside of Sarah’s ear, and she sucked in a hard breath, letting it out in a slow, erotic moan. It made her sick. How many times in the course of the past thirty-six hours had she heard that beautiful sound? Now it was polluted.
“I know you two are together now,” Morrigan said. Sarah could feel her long, manicured nails drumming on her shoulder. “I can smell him all over you.”
“Morrigan, that’s enough,” Bane spat at her. “Just ask if she’ll help or not.”
From behind her, Sarah felt Morrigan stiffen.
“Since when do you give the orders around here, bitch? Never. You’ve always done what I say!”
“And look where it’s brought me!” Bane exploded. “I’ve killed for you. I’ve ruined lives for you. Look at what I did to Zillah. I did that because you told me to, and it has signed my death warrant.”
Sarah saw the other large man shaking his head, the anger beginning to roll off him in waves.
“What kind of shit have you been into, man?” he whispered over to Bane.
“Torture,” Morrigan happily chimed in. “Beautiful, delicious torture. Bane, tell him about the time we tied Zillah up for three days and whipped her until she bled out and how her body scarred. Tell your little friend how truly evil you are. Better yet, tell him what you are.”
Bane cast a glance over to Stellan, and without any pretense or preface, he lifted the corner of his lip to reveal a long white fang.
Stellan said nothing, only shook his head again and turned toward the door. He stopped just outside the frame and turned to cast another glance at Bane and then at Sarah.
He shot a final stare at Morrigan. “It’s been a pleasure working for you, ma’am. I sincerely hope that someone cuts your fucking head off.” With that, he stormed down the hallway, the sound of his boots echoing as he took the stairs down to the main floor.
“Pity,” Morrigan squeezed Sarah’s shoulders. “I’m really going to miss him. Now back to business.” She spun Sarah around in her chair, crouching down to stare at her eye-to-eye. “You have something I want. Give it to me, and I’ll let you live. Refuse, and I’ll let Bane tear your throat out. Your choice.”
Sarah swallowed the acid that was building in her throat. “No,” she whispered.
“No? You don’t even want to think about it first?”
Sarah cleared her throat and mentally braced herself for what was about to happen. She whispered a silent prayer before opening her eyes and staring Morrigan dead in the face.
“I. Said. No.”
Morrigan glared over at Bane, and with a smile, she stepped out from behind the chair.
“You do it, or I’ll do it.”
And in that moment,
Bane knew that if he was ever going to have a shot at redemption with Taris, it was now.
* * *
Screw this.
Vampires? This was all too much to take. He wasn’t one of those narrow-minded idiots who used their limited knowledge of time and space to derail any and all possibilities of something different existing in the world. But hell if he was going to be a part of whatever that hellhound of a woman had in mind. And Bane? Damn. He knew the guy was capable of nasty stuff—no doubt. But ritualistic torture?
Stellan’s feet hit the sticky dance floor. Even in lockdown mode, there were still coked-out dancers on the stage. He shook his head and stalked toward the large, metal side door. If the security cameras were right, the cavalry had just pulled up, and he wasn’t about to try to keep them out.
“The boss said doors stay locked.” One of the hired guards glared at him from the bar.
“You wanna stay loyal to that devil, be my guest. Me? I tend to err on the side of self-preservation, and, buddy, if I read this sitch right, you might wanna defect and jump sides.”
Stellan flipped the dead bolts one by one, slid the large metal bar back from its home, and waited.
Chapter 31
Taris’s feet hit the pavement before the van was put in park. The entire building was one giant metal piece of trash, jutting out amidst the picturesque setting. He ran around the back, checking all of the doors. Locked, and heavily fortified. They wouldn’t budge, even when he tested them at a dead run.
“Plan, killer?” Achan pulled his hair back to the nape of his neck and tied it with a black rubber tie. He walked down the narrow alleyway to meet Taris.
“How this place manages to stay in operation is beyond me,” Judah glared up at the roofline. “There are no windows on the upper floors, no fire escape, nothing. It’s like it was built to keep people in.”
“Strip bars don’t want you to leave,” Achan said. “No windows means no sense of time. No sense of time means no sense of propriety.”
“How do you know it’s a strip bar?” Zillah asked as she pulled back the metal slides on her guns before holstering them. “And how do you know any of that?”
“Because, my old friend, I am a fan of occasionally losing one’s propriety. And no reputable business in its right mind would be called something so classless as The Booby Trap.”
“Can we fucking focus, please?” Taris spat out the words as he walked up and down the alley, casing every aspect of the walls one more time. “Someone see if we can get onto the roof. There has to be access to this place somehow. Judging by those cameras, I’d say the harpy knows we are here, so I want this done quickly.”
“Body count?” Rhiannon pulled up the edge of her tight leather gloves.
“I could give a shit. I just want Sarah back.”
A metallic clank echoed from the door and caused them all to step back. A symphony of guns cocking and blades unsheathing rang against the walls of the alleyway. Another slide came from the door, then another and another. Finally, a long, deep hiss scraped against it until the door was completely unlocked.
“Now what is that stupid legend about vampires being invited in?” Achan whispered over to Taris.
He ran his tongue over his fangs with a loud sucking sound and smiled.
“Playtime.”
With a heavy boot, he kicked open the door. The smell of booze and smoke flooded out into the alleyway and only got stronger as they stepped in. The floor was nasty, the stage was flimsy, and surrounding them in the interior of the main room were ten armed men, all of whom looked like small children playing with guns.
“You want to keep your lives?” Taris glared at each one of them. “Run.”
Only three of them dropped their weapons and made a mad dash for the door. The other stalwart sentinels maintained their positions and glanced at the large man in the center of the room. Taris looked him up and down. What weapons he had remained holstered.
“You open the door?” Taris shot the question at him.
The man nodded.
Taris looked again at the man and recognized him from the security footage from the house. He stormed over to him, pistol aimed, and was about to pull the trigger when a shot rang out. The large man in front of him instantly turned around, took aim at the guard behind the bar, and squeezed off a round that sent him sprawling to the floor.
“That bastard grazed me!”
Taris cocked his head to look at Rhiannon. She was gripping her shoulder. Between her fingers, he could see the blood beginning to bloom.
“You sure it’s not deep?” he asked.
“No, just a flesh wound, but nevertheless, it smarts.”
He nodded and looked at the large man again. He’d holstered the pistol he pulled to shoot the overly eager guard and shoved his hands into his pockets. Taris was tall, but this guy had to hover over him a good three or four inches.
“You’re pretty handy with those cannons,” Taris said, nodding down to the holster at his hip.
“Got me through a time or two,” the man replied.
Without another word, Taris pulled his fist back and landed it square in the guy’s jaw, cracking it and sending him crashing to the floor. The stare down between them said all that needed to be said. Taris spared his life because he defended Rhiannon. And the guy knew it.
“Where’s your boss?” Taris asked.
“Upstairs,” he nodded toward the staircase, gritting the words through his teeth. “So is your woman.”
Another shot rang out, this time from a henchman who stood on the stage. Huddled behind the large speakers were two skinny, scantily clad strippers. The shot missed its mark, which was Taris’ head, and instead landed in the ceiling.
“Why is it that evil henchmen can never shoot straight?” Achan muttered.
They separated, taking all corners of the bar. Individual fights broke out, and Taris made for the staircase. Quickly turning to the man on the floor, he nodded toward the girls on the stage.
“Get them and yourself out of here, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”
The man rose from the floor, motioning for the half-naked women to head for the door. Once they were outside, Taris positioned himself on the staircase. Leaning back as far as he could, let out a loud growl.
“MOORRRIIIGGAANNN!!!!!!!”
* * *
Sarah was trapped in the narrow vacuum of a nightmare, with the walls around her grip on reality slowly closing in. Her heart pounded harder as she felt Bane lean in closer toward her. The size and shape of his body so closely mimicked that of Taris’ that the feel of him against her made her cringe.
“I’m sorry about this,” Bane whispered as he pushed her hair away from her throat.
She barely had time to suck in a steadying breath before she felt the piercing pain of his teeth. Instantly, she felt her vision go hazy, and the telltale signs of syncope began to burn across her shoulders. Her periphery began to blur and slowly…close…in.
Just as Sarah’s head began to drop down to her chest, a piercing primal cry echoed from down the hallway, and Morrigan’s heart skipped a beat.
Taris. He was here.
“Son of a bitch!” She turned to Bane, her eyes burning, her chest heaving. “Your little friend let them in.” Bending down to his perch beside Sarah’s slowly fading form, she buried her fingernails deep into the already scarred channels in his back. She raked her fingers, digging the nails in so far that ribbons of skin peeled off. “Useless bastard! Get out of my sight. If you make it through them down there, I will hunt you down and kill you myself.”
Bane kept himself steady. She’d bled him to the point of rabid starvation many times in their long life together, so the feeling of empty veins was nothing new. What was different this time was the fact that he didn’t love the way it felt. He turned and stood on shaking legs, closing the gap between them until he could feel the fibers of her sweater tickling his chest.
He said nothing. The vast myriad of w
ords that swirled around in his brain were too insignificant for the moment. He knew what was waiting for them both downstairs. The ringing of gunfire and the sound of bodies hitting the floor were like a symphony to him, and every fiber of his being twitched to be a part of it. The melee would eventually make its way up those stairs, and then justice would finally be meted out. She would see her end today, one way or another.
Bane leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.
“See you in hell,” he whispered before he turned and stormed out the door.
Morrigan let out an angry growl. She turned and kicked over the chair Sarah was sitting in, sending her crashing to the floor. She inched one long, sharp nail between the ropes and untied them, pulling Sarah from the chair. Her head connected with the corner of the desk more than once as Morrigan pulled her to the back of the room and shoved her into the tiny closet.
“I hate it when a plan doesn’t come together,” she mumbled as she kicked the door shut. Pulling the rolling leather chair back, she gracefully sat down and propped her feet up on the desk. He would be there soon enough, and with any luck, he would take care of Bane for her once and for all.
All she had to do was wait.
Chapter 32
Taris crouched down behind the stairwell, spinning the pistol in his hand. The burn in his belly was a warehouse fire, and he knew Bane was close. He could feel him. Broken bare feet started padding down the stairs, and it took everything he had not to crack off a shot into his ankle.
“I know you’re here, big brother.” Bane stopped and looked around. He was shirtless and covered from his shoulders to the small of his back in long, bleeding gashes. “I’m glad you’re here. I want her to die, you know. She’s had it coming for so long, and I’m glad it’s her time.”
Taris wasted no time. In a flash, he jumped out from behind the stairs, sweeping Bane’s feet out from under him. He brought a heavy boot down into his midsection in a quick thud, and once the air was completely knocked out of Bane, he pressed his foot into the front of his throat.
Chaos and Moonlight (Order of the Nines Book 1) Page 24
