All Hell Breaks Loose (The Hellcat Series)

by Sharon Hannaford

  “It was them,” he repeated once again.

  Gabi wasn’t sure if he was gaining some control, or if it was sheer exhaustion that had kept him from shifting, but either way he looked terrible.

  “Yes, I know,” she tried for a soothing voice. She crouched to help Derek to a sitting position. “It’s time to get out of here. I don’t fancy being around if that bunch decide to come back with reinforcements.”

  “Why did they want me?” he asked. He seemed to be regaining control of his muscles, and he let her help him to his feet.

  “I’ll explain as much as I can in the car, but I’m not entirely sure myself. Grab your bag, we need to go.”

  “There’s one more small problem,” Derek said slightly hesitantly as Gabi hit the unlock button for the Mustang. She groaned inwardly, making an effort to hang onto her temper as she motioned Derek to throw his bag in the trunk of the car. If she didn’t get another coffee soon, she was going to lose it.

  “A small problem?” she asked.

  “Yeah, ah, Trish has a dog,” he replied. “I bought her a dog for protection after, well, you know. Mostly to help her feel safe again. He hasn’t been fed since yesterday, and he’s probably locked outside.”

  Gabi kept back the frustrated growl but allowed a sigh to escape. It was apparently going to be one of those days. “Is there anyone you can ask to dog-sit for a few days?” she asked, knowing the answer already. Everyone knew she couldn’t ignore an animal in need.

  “Well, I’ve been wracking my brain, but I don’t really know her friends. I’m not sure she even has any after Brendan.” The name was ground out through clenched teeth. “None of my friends live close enough to go and feed him or have enough room in their own places to have a Rottweiler stay over.”

  “A Rottweiler?” Gabi repeated, wishing immediately that she was driving Kyle’s van instead of her beloved Mustang. Yep, definitely one of those days. “I hope he’s good at being squished into small spaces,” she said in resignation, pointing a thumb at the miniscule excuse for a back seat. “And he’s going to have to stay in one of the runs at the house. They’re large enough for big cats, so he’ll be comfortable until we can make other arrangements for him.”

  “He’s very well trained,” Derek assured her. “He won’t run off or anything.”

  “I have a cat,” she reminded him. Almost everyone knew about Razor.

  “Oh, he’s good with cats, too. Trish sometimes cat-sits for a work colleague, and he’s never tried to hurt that cat.”

  “It’s not the cat I’m worried about,” Gabi told him darkly.

  As Gabi negotiated the slow-moving, rush-hour traffic, she made phone calls. First to Kyle, checking if he’d made it to HQ and filling him in on Derek’s visitors and the fight. He sounded concerned and told her to get to her house and stay put until he talked things over with Alistair. He hadn’t heard about any change of Pack leader status, and a rogue Pack loose in the City was a serious matter.

  Next she called Byron to tell him what had happened, she had to tell him about the skirmish with the Werewolves in case someone in the neighbourhood had seen and reported it. Byron was the expert at damage control.

  “Trust you to take on six Werewolves with a garden rake, Gabrielle.” He sounded a little exasperated.

  “It was that or Nex,” she grumbled back. “I didn’t feel like the paperwork from an unsanctioned kill.”

  Byron snorted a laugh. “I wonder if the Alpha has any idea that he owes his life to paperwork. Give me the licence numbers, and I’ll see if they lead anywhere.”

  By the time she had finished the call to Byron, Derek had fallen into a light doze, and Gabi let him sleep until they arrived at Trish’s house.

  Gabi sent Derek to collect the dog food and other dog paraphernalia and find towels to protect her car seats while she went to the rear garden and found the dog. His name was Roman, which seemed to suit him. He was a beautiful example of the breed. If Derek had chosen him, he had a good eye. A well-bred Rottweiler was a fantastic pet: naturally protective, highly intelligent and with just the right amount of liveliness. She was relieved to see that not all the playfulness had been trained out of Roman, as was sometimes the case with highly trained big dogs. He rushed to greet her with enthusiastic, tail-wagging excitement. She had that effect on dogs. It was going to be tricky keeping him calm in the car with Derek in the front seat, though. Dogs have a natural aversion to Werewolves; they seem to sense the greater predator. It made Gabi wonder what their attitude towards Vampires was.

  Roman emitted a low, keening whine the entire trip to Gabi’s house, huddling as far on Gabi’s side of the car as he could fit his one-hundred-and-fifty-pound body. Not even Gabi’s influence could reassure him completely. It was a relief all around when they pulled up to her security gates. She left Derek and the unhappy Roman in the car for a moment while she went through the short incantation to cancel the ward around the house, then she slid her seat forward and made room for the large dog to squirm out of the car. She left Derek with orders to wait for her before entering the house, knowing it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to meet Razor without her to act as referee.

  Gabi sincerely hoped to avoid meeting Razor herself while she had Roman in tow. If she could slip the dog into the big runs at the rear of the house before Razor spotted him, at least the dog would have the protection of the steel cage wire, which even Razor couldn’t get through. But of course, the day didn’t suddenly turn into sunshine and roses. The unusually large cat hopped out the open front window to greet her before she’d gone five steps with the dog. All of them froze. Then Gabi reached out a put a warning hand on Roman’s head. Luckily he was quick and intelligent, and he immediately recognised the greater predator. Razor might be smaller than him, but something alerted him to the fact that this cat was not to be trifled with. Gabi was intensely glad that Trish hadn’t owned a Fox Terrier; they were notoriously stupid when they were outgunned. Razor puffed himself up to his maximum size and narrowed an angry gaze on the big dog. With a mental push from Gabi, Roman lowered his eyes and assumed a submissive posture as Gabi moved herself between the two animals. She crouched, lowering herself to Razor’s height so she could grab his attention. It took her several minutes of intense concentration to get the great cat to finally condescend to allow them past without a fight. He turned his back on her in blatant disgust, stalked stiff-legged up the stairs to the front door, and meowed imperiously for Rose to let him inside.

  The meeting between Razor and Derek didn’t go as badly as she expected. Razor was already so annoyed with her about the canine visitor that another Werewolf didn’t seem to make much difference to him. He narrowed his gaze warningly on Derek as he sized the man up from the other side of the room. He didn’t bother to even move from his sunny spot in the lounge, and he ignored Gabi’s attempts to pacify him and set to grooming with a vengeance. Gabi left him with a sigh and went to introduce Derek to Rose and to show him the spare room where he would be staying.

  They’d barely sat down to a cup of much-needed coffee when Irene arrived. Irene’s naturally calm, unflappable demeanour had a tendency to rub off on everyone around her, and Derek relaxed immediately in her company. She performed a quick ritual using a couple of Derek’s hairs, declared Derek safe from the protective wards, and then joined them for lunch. Derek quietly ate his way through three helpings of Rose’s excellent lasagne and salad while Irene regaled them with stories of her grandchildren, a few of whom were just coming into their powers and giving their parents a terrible time trying to keep all the mysterious goings-on in their house secret, while holding sleepovers and birthday parties.

  Once Irene left, Gabi called to check on Trish’s condition. She relayed the news to Derek that Trish was stable and then sent him to get some rest. He was adamant that he couldn’t sleep, but gave in to Gabi’s nagging and went to lie on the bed. When she checked on him a half hour later, he was dead to the world. After checking on and feeding Roman, s
he retreated to her office to catch up on some emails and sort out long-neglected filing that her accountant had been begging for.

  It was late afternoon when Derek came into the office, carrying two cups of coffee. She smiled at the heavenly scent as he set one cup down in front of her and settled himself in one of her guest chairs, nursing the other. Razor roused himself from a patch of afternoon sun to growl half-heartedly at the coffee-bearer.

  “You look a little better,” she commented, taking in the healthier colour of Derek’s skin and the slightly less haggard look to his features.

  He nodded a little, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “That’s the first bit of real rest I’ve had in days, it’s helped,” he said. “Truth be told, physically I’ve never felt better in my life.”

  “I told you it’s not all bad,” she reminded him. “Once you have more control, life won’t seem so bleak either. Kyle should be able to spend some time with you tomorrow, and if you can keep yourself from shifting, he’ll be able to answer a lot of your questions.”

  “So are you going to tell me what you are yet?” he asked, his silver eyes locking with hers. “And why you have more security around here than the White House?”

  “I have some overbearingly overprotective males in my life,” she groused.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the type of woman who would allow any overbearing males to overprotect you without a very good reason. Are you in some kind of danger?”

  She growled in annoyance. “Not anymore. And I intend on having most of the security measures disabled in the very near future.”

  He pursed his lips stubbornly. “You were off work for nearly six weeks recently. You’ve never been off for more than two weeks that I know of. Something serious happened.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me,” he said simply.

  Gabi realised that finally she didn’t need to protect him from the truth; he was a part of her world now. And that changed things.

  Chapter 5

  When she finally stopped talking, the office was in semi-darkness. Derek had hardly said a word, but the expression on his face told her that he knew she was skimming over certain details of her kidnapping on purpose. She had the feeling he would keep digging until she gave him all the details, but he had enough to chew on for a few hours. She pushed back from her desk and stretched. The movement made her grimace as her bruises gave a painful twinge.

  “What’s wrong?” Derek asked, frowning.

  “Don’t you start,” she warned him. “Let’s go see what Rose left us for dinner. Then I need to check in with HQ. If they don’t need me tonight, we can go and see Trish.”

  Their arrival at Julius’s Estate was mercifully trouble-free. The guards at the gate were usually Werewolves. Julius employed most of the Black River Pack, one of the largest Packs in the City, either as security for himself and his Clan or in one of his numerous businesses. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. However, it didn’t seem like a good time to be pushing Derek’s limits, so Gabi had called ahead and made sure they were waved directly through the gates without the usual security checks.

  Gabi hadn’t been back since she was discharged from Jonathon’s care several weeks ago. She noticed Derek’s eyes widen as he took in the extent and opulence of the property, as she drove along the discreetly lit lanes.

  Trish wasn’t staying in the medical wing Gabi had spent so long recovering in. She was in a room in a housing block called Hawthorn House set off to one side of the Estate. There were a number of shared accommodation blocks on the Estate as well as a few small private residences for staff and Clan members with partners. They all boasted names associated with trees, though Gabi had no idea who’d named them. The Estate also boasted a fully equipped gym, tennis courts, a running track, swimming pool and communal entertainment areas.

  Trish was in a specially equipped ‘Secure Room’. Werewolves were notoriously unpredictable when injured or highly stressed and occasionally needed somewhere to simmer down or recover. The windows had bars on them, and the door had been noticeably reinforced. Gabi knew there would be silver embedded into the bars on the windows and the door; the walls would be solid steel beneath the plastered façade. It wasn’t unheard of for newly infected Werewolves to shift before their first full moon. Hence the extra caution with Trish. There were a few humans wandering around Julius’s Estate—Gabi shied away from thinking about what their purpose here was. They didn’t need any new cases of lycanthropy.

  Despite its purpose, Trish’s room was set up with a warm, homey feel. A small table and chairs, a couple of wing-back chairs and a fold-out single bed were placed neatly around the room, and a hospital bed stood to one side against one wall. Some basic monitoring equipment stood near the bed as well as a water bottle and towels. There were cornflower blue curtains at the windows, and some books and a small vase of wildflowers rested on the table.

  They’d met Jonathon in the corridor on their way in. Derek’s eyes had been wide with anxiety, but he’d relaxed after a few minutes in Jonathon’s company. Gabi realised Jonathon had been the perfect Vampire for Derek to meet first. The Vamp doctor had a calm, competent, reassuring air about him that Gabi hadn’t really noticed before. Possibly because usually when she saw him she was either badly injured or trying to talk him into letting her out of her hospital bed. He confirmed what Kyle had told her earlier; Trish was doing as well as could be expected, her body seemed to be coping with the strain of the fever, and they were monitoring her closely. She hadn’t been lucid yet, but he didn’t expect her to be for at least another day, after which the fever should begin to break and her wounds to heal. He told them he was working in the communal living area so that he was nearby if her condition changed at all.

  Once Gabi was sure that Derek was calm enough to keep from shifting, she left him sitting with Trish, gave a heads-up to Jonathon, and stalked off in search of Julius. She wasn’t taking no for an answer this time, he was going to talk to her. She knew he was at the Estate, she could feel it. It was the first time she’d had a sense of him and his emotions since he’d walked out of her hospital room the night after her rescue. His emotions were in turmoil, she could feel them in her mind, like a band of tension across her forehead and into her temples. His distress called to her on a level she couldn’t ignore.

  As she reached the front door of his private quarters – a triple-story manor house with all the bells and whistles – Julius’s new Chief Steward pulled the door open to stand in the light spilling from the hallway beyond. He was the replacement for the unfortunate Gregory, who had chosen the wrong side in the recent war between the powerful Vampire brothers. His defection and betrayal was part of what was causing Julius’s withdrawal from everyone. Gabi figured it was a good thing that Danté had killed the steward before Julius and the SMV had launched their attack on his stronghold. If Danté hadn’t killed the traitor, then Julius would’ve had to, and that would’ve been another weight on his shoulders. Vampires had very strong ties to their Clan members; betrayal was a very bitter pill to swallow.

  The new Chief Steward was a tall, thin, pretentious ass by the name of Maximilian. He’d apparently been a night manager at one of Julius’s boarding houses that catered to guests of the non-human variety. Gabi disliked the man on first sight, and nothing had happened to change her opinion of him yet. She wished Julius had just promoted Claudia, the quietly competent female Vampire who’d been Gregory’s assistant.

  “Miss Bradford,” the man said with a condescending sneer. Gabi’s sword hand began itching. “I’m afraid the Master is currently unavailable. Would you like me to let him know that you called?” He was nearly a foot taller than she was and made a point of looking down his nose at her as though she was a mildly repulsive bug.

  “What I would like,” she ground out, holding on to her temper by a single thread, “is for you to get the fuck out of my way.”

  “Now, now, Miss Bradford, such language from a lady is hardly…”
His sentence was abruptly cut off as he stared at the tip of the curved metal blade lodged an inch deep in his chest.

  “I don’t call myself a lady, asshole,” she snarled, pressing Nex another fraction of an inch closer to his heart. “Now get the hell out of my way before I’m forced to carve out your heart and take it home for my cat to eat.”

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a Vampire swallow convulsively, but this one did. As he backed slowly away from the door, she followed him, allowing the blade to pull free of his flesh but keeping it trained on him. He was a Vampire, after all, and she was only partly Vampire. She was almost as quick as most Vampires, but almost wasn’t always good enough. She did have one advantage, though. As indifferent as Julius seemed to be towards her at the moment, she doubted he’d changed the order that she was absolutely not to be harmed by any of his Clan or staff. There weren’t too many who would (or in this case, could) defy a Master Vampire, especially one as powerful as Julius—a Master Vampire with the gift to control other Vampires just as she could control animals and, apparently, Werewolves.

  “Be it on your own head, then,” Maximilian spat, as she slipped past him into the house. She kept a watchful eye on him, alert for any sudden movements, but instead, a malicious grin spread over his face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Angeli Morte!” The cruel vindictiveness in that look nearly made her backtrack. Nearly, but not quite. The steward gathered himself, slammed the front door closed, and strode away without another word. He hadn’t even touched the wound where Nex had cut him.

  A feeling of cold dread settled in her stomach, but she brushed away the man’s odd behaviour and allowed her senses to flow through the house, searching. Then she turned and swept up the wide, wooden staircase in search of her quarry.