All Hell Breaks Loose (The Hellcat Series)

by Sharon Hannaford

  Kyle snagged Melinda on her way home and got her to see to Gabi’s broken finger. The Magus must have been tired, as she was unusually clumsy and seemed flustered as she tended to Gabi’s hand. She didn’t offer to Heal it as she normally would have done, not that Gabi would’ve taken her up on the offer, but it just wasn’t like her not to try. Gabi made a mental note to check up on her in the morning.

  Byron wasn’t at HQ for once, he’d had some important meeting with the City Council earlier in the evening, and it was running on longer than expected. So Alistair, who was ‘officer-in-charge’ for the night, debriefed them. He was deeply concerned by the incident, and after dismissing them to get some rest, he immediately began making phone calls to the City’s Pack leaders.

  As Gabi, Kyle and Marcello clocked out and headed for their vehicles, Gabi was surprised to see Melinda walking briskly away from where her car and Kyle’s van were parked. There were no other vehicles close by, and Melinda’s car was several parking spaces away. Gabi called out to her, wondering if something was wrong. The other woman just smiled and waved before climbing in her car and driving off. Gabi shook her head, filing the Magus’s strange behaviour away to be considered when she had less pressing issues on her mind.

  When Gabi and Marcello pulled up to the main house in the Mustang, Maximilian was standing outside as though expecting them. He waited for them to get out before addressing Gabi.

  “Sire has cleared a parking spot for your vehicle in the underground parking,” he informed her. “I have been gifted with the responsibility of being your valet tonight.” His tone was inflectionless, but his eyes gave away exactly what he thought about the gift of becoming her valet. On another night Gabi might have simply driven the car around to the garage herself, but she was still annoyed enough about losing the Werewolves that tweaking Maximilian’s supercilious nose appealed to her. She stalked up to him and handed him the keys.

  “Not so much as one scratch, Max,” she told him, her voice dark with menace.

  Julius was waiting for them at the bar. “Exciting evening,” he commented. “Are you all in one piece?”

  “Good news travels fast,” Gabi muttered, aiming directly for the glass of wine he held out to her, claiming it with her left hand.

  “Sire,” Marcello greeted him with a small bow, “I leave her in your capable hands. She’ll need some ice on the hand she’s hiding in her jacket pocket, but she is otherwise uninjured.” He was trying to suppress a smile.

  “Traitor,” she grumbled glaring at him. “And he got two bullet holes in him,” she counter-accused.

  “He’s a Vampire, Lea,” Julius reminded her. “Thank you, Marcello,” Julius dismissed his guard with a loaded look. He moved to behind the bar counter and filled a clean cloth with ice. “Do I need to get Jonathon in to look at it?” he asked her.

  She joined him at the bar and took the ice pack from him. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and held the ice to it. “No, it’s nothing serious, I already had Melinda look at it and strap the fractured one.”

  He reached over and lifted the makeshift ice pack off to check for himself. Her middle finger, which was strapped to her ring finger with two thin strips of plaster, was slightly swollen and turning blue, and there were blood blisters forming under three of her nails, but all things considered, it was fairly minor.

  “Hmm,” Julius murmured. He lifted her hand to lay a gentle kiss on it and replaced the ice pack.

  “So this thing with the Werewolves is escalating,” he observed.

  “Yeah, and we’re just groping around in the dark,” she said in a disgusted tone. “There is some kind of organisation to all of this, but to what end? And who is behind it all? Lord and Lady, this is getting frustrating.” She felt like kicking something, preferably something Werewolf related.

  Suddenly Julius was behind her, his cool hands divesting her of her jacket and weapons and then beginning a slow kneading of her neck and shoulder muscles. “I have cleared my schedule for a few nights so I can join you on the next patrol. The guards and I have a few tricks up our sleeves if we encounter the gun-toting Werewolves again.” The massage grew more firm, working at the tension-induced knots. “And Trish is working on tracking the shadow group. I watched her work for a while, and she’s good. Really good. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has something for us by morning.” His voice was calm and reassuring. “So I think the Werewolf problem can be tabled for a few hours. Worrying about it further tonight is not going to get us anywhere.” He swept her hair away from the nape of her neck and pressed biting kisses along the ridge of her shoulder.

  Need washed through her. Desire, want, lust. She couldn’t get enough of him. But a tiny, rational part of her mind was still conscious and screaming at her.

  “Jules,” she whispered, fighting her body’s demand to turn and melt into him. “Work first. We still need to work on the panic attack problem.”

  “Later,” he growled, spinning her to face him and lifting her into his arms. “I can’t think straight with needing you right now.”

  His admission and the blatant hunger in his eyes swept the last rational thoughts from her brain. She twined her arms around his neck and leaned in to nip at his earlobe. He reached for a bottle of wine from the bar and then swept her upstairs.

  Neither of them heard the faint ring of a distant cellphone or the tiny click. As their lips met, Julius’s hands sliding around her ribs and up her back, the world exploded. Literally. One second Julius’s mouth was on hers, his fangs scraping against the tender flesh of her lower lip, and then a deafening blast ripped them apart. Furniture splintered and flew in all directions, flames burst upward, the floor heaved, and then she was falling.

  “Lea!” She heard Julius call to her, but it was muffled, distant. She made a desperate attempt to grab onto something as the floor collapsed beneath her. Jagged bits of wood tore into her hands and arms, something heavy clipped the side of her head, and then there was nothing left to hold on to. She was three stories up, and there was suddenly nothing underneath her.

  She just had time to think, “Fuck, this is gonna hurt,” as she braced herself for the collision with the ground. It took her a second to realise she’d stopped moving without any impact. She was lying sprawled on a concrete floor amid burning bits of shrapnel and debris. She leapt up from the ground, regretting the sudden movement as the world went fuzzy around the edges. She blinked, and her vision cleared. She gazed around stupidly, trying to wrap her brain around what was happening. Mangled bits of cars and floorboards lay all around her, flames ate at bits of wood that must have once been furniture, and the air was choked with smoke and the stench of fuel. Sound was muffled; she couldn’t hear anything clearly, her ears were ringing, and it felt like her ear canals were stuffed with cotton wool.

  “Julius,” she screamed, kicking bits of wreckage out of the way, looking for him. Fire and splintered wood was all she could think of. Vampires and fire and wood, and where the fuck was Julius. The vision in one eye clouded over. She wiped at it impatiently, and her hand came away sticky with blood. She looked upward, hoping he was still upstairs somewhere, but there was only a craterous hole where the ceiling should’ve been—nothing was left of the rooms above.

  “Julius,” she yelled again, not sure if he wasn’t answering her, or if she just couldn’t hear him. She pulled away the mangled bonnet of a car, desperation lending her strength, and a glimpse of white caught her eye. An arm, lying under what looked like a piece of his bed. She hurriedly picked her way to him, flinging wreckage aside, hauling chunks of wood and mattress off his motionless body.

  “Fuck it. Julius, are you okay?” she yelled, even though she couldn’t hear her own words. He didn’t react, didn’t move. “Shit,” she shouted, running her hands over his body, brushing irritably at the blood running into her eye. There were a several cuts and wounds on him—one particularly nasty slice across his cheek and a number of large splinters of wood piercing his body, but none near
his heart. She tugged them out, knowing he would heal around them if she didn’t. Blood seeped sluggishly from the wounds, but nothing seemed life-threatening, not even for a ‘norm’. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t conscious. She was coughing now on the acrid smoke, her eyes beginning to burn. Fire was licking closer to where Julius lay, fuelled by curtains and bed linen; they had to get out. Now.

  She cast around to find her bearings, trying to work out the easiest way to escape. Finally she spotted what looked like the mangled side door to the garage. Hopefully she could kick it open. She grabbed Julius under the arms and began to drag him through the debris. She had to stop after a couple of feet to clear her way and yelped as a burning floorboard crashed down from above, narrowly missing her head. She kicked it aside and grabbed Julius again.

  Just then a whoosh of fresh air surrounded her. Men on either side of her, muffled shouting, confusion in the smoke. Strong hands lifted her, cradling her against a hard, cool chest, and they were moving.

  “Julius,” she screamed. “Julius is inside.” She struggled to get free and go back, but the arms tightened and held fast.

  They broke free of the fire and smoke into flashlights and confusion. The arms finally loosened, and she was set on the ground. Without hesitation, she turned and headed back into the burning wreckage of the manor house. A hulking figure was shouldering his way through the remains of the side garage door, carrying a man in his arms. The annoying arms caught her again, and this time turned her to face the rest of the man. It was Alexander, looking angrier than she’d ever seen him. He was talking to her, shouting something at her. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from shaking her.

  “I can’t hear you, Alex,” she shouted back, forgetting that it was her that was deaf not him.

  He winced slightly and put his hand up to the side of her neck, just under her left ear. When he pulled his fingers back, they were smeared with blood. Great, burst eardrum, she thought absently. She saw Alexander take a deep calming breath, and then he mouthed clearly, “Sorry.”

  He turned as the hulking figure neared them. It was Fergus, and he was carrying Julius. The Scotsman looked worried and was shouting something at Alex. They both turned to her as she suddenly collapsed to her knees, coughing. Alex’s hands held her shoulders until the coughing fit ended, then he lifted her again, and they were moving. She was vaguely aware of dozens of people around them, running, milling about, standing with shocked faces. Alexander simply shouldered his way through them, following in Fergus’s wake. Without sound, the world took on a surreal edge. She wondered if she was dreaming the chaos.

  Bright light burned her sore, irritated eyes as they entered a building. Looking around through tear-blurred eyes, Gabi realised they were in one of the smaller apartments. Fergus was inside already, lowering Julius onto a sofa. Alexander set Gabi back on her feet, but pushed her onto a chair. In the stark indoor light, she must have looked even worse than she felt, as she saw both men take in her appearance and their eyes widen in shock. They were talking quickly, too quickly for her to make out what they were saying. She could hear them a little, but it was like trying to hear while under water. Fergus was kneeling in front of her, concern clear on his scarred face. He pressed a clean kitchen towel into her hands, while using another to press against the side of her head.

  “Ow,” she muttered and then broke into a hacking coughing fit. When the coughing finally stopped, she used the kitchen towel to wipe her eyes and nose. It came away bloody and streaked with grime.

  Alexander was now bending over his Sire, running hands over him.

  “Julius,” she said. “What’s wrong with Julius?” She hoped she wasn’t shouting, but judging by the two Vampire’s slight winces, she was.

  Alex came back over to her. “What happened?” he mouthed clearly and slowly.

  Gabi shook her head and regretted it as the room swirled around her. “I don’t know,” she said, trying to moderate her voice to normal volume. She paused, taking over holding the cloth to her head from Fergus. “We were in his room, and then everything went to hell.”

  Alex said something else, but she couldn’t read it. Lip-reading was on her skills-to-learn list, and it had just jumped to the top of the list.

  “There was a huge explosion, and the floors just collapsed under us.” Suddenly she gasped in shock. “Julius. It must have been Julius.” She knew she was shouting again, her throat felt like someone had taken a hoof file to it. Frustration was clear on Alex’s face. “Julius stopped me from hitting the floor, I fell ten metres and didn’t feel the impact. Julius must have cushioned my fall somehow.”

  Realisation and relief flooded Alexander’s expression. He gave a small smile and patted her arm. “He’ll be okay,” he mouthed to her. “Don’t worry.”

  Don’t worry? Gabi couldn’t believe it. How could she not worry, when Julius was out cold? What could lay a Vampire as powerful as Julius out cold that she shouldn’t be worried about? Alexander must have sensed her distress. He turned and said something to Fergus, and a moment later, he was holding a notepad and pen.

  “Telekinesis,” he wrote.

  Comprehension dawned in her foggy brain and she nodded. She’d forgotten about the telekinesis. “Yes, he must have used it to slow my fall, but why is he unconscious? Sorry,” she added and lowered her voice when the Vampires flinched again.

  “Takes huge energy to move smallest thing,” Alexander wrote. “Use too much energy, body shuts down to recover.”

  Gabi glanced over to where her Vampire boyfriend (she wasn’t sure that word could be applied to him) lay unmoving, and somehow she couldn’t feel relieved yet. Alexander turned her face back to him.

  “He’ll be fine,” he said, and Gabi thought she could almost hear the words this time. The ringing seemed to be fading, and the cotton-wool-in-ears feeling wasn’t as pronounced. He wrote on the notepad again. “He needs blood. Waiting for a feeder. They are at a party, been called back.”

  “Give him some of mine,” she said immediately, starting to rise from the chair.

  Alex stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “No, too dangerous,” he said emphatically, shaking his head.

  “Why dangerous?” Gabi asked.

  Alex reached for the notepad, but Gabi stopped him.

  “My hearing is coming back, just talk slowly,” she told him.

  “With Julius unconscious, he’s going to react without control when he first tastes blood. He could hurt you or take too much. You’ve already lost blood tonight from your wounds. I’m not sure you even realise how badly you’ve been hurt.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I can withstand it better than a ‘norm’. You just have to stop him taking too much. Can you and Fergus do that?”

  “Let the feeder take the risk, Gabi; he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Julius would never forgive himself if he hurt you. You know that.”

  “Fergus, can you stop him if he starts to drain me?” she asked, pinning the man with her gaze.

  “Aye, lass, I can stop ’im. I wouldna let him do that to himself or you, I swear,” the Scotsman said sombrely, “but he’ll be alright to wait fer the feeder.”

  “And it’s going to hurt like hell.” Alexander tried one more angle. “With him not conscious, he can’t protect you from the pain.”

  “I think I’ll survive,” she said dryly. “The sooner we have him conscious, the better.”

  Neither of the Vampires could argue with that comment. Alexander closed his eyes in defeat and stood back as she dragged her battered body out of the chair. The room spun slightly, but then steadied.

  “I’m going to have to nick you for him to get the first taste. Your wrist will be the safest,” Alexander told her as she knelt on the floor next to Julius.

  His face was serene and deathly still. She knew her agitation wouldn’t abate until he opened his eyes. She lifted her left arm and offered Alex her wrist. Fergus took up a position near Julius’s head and gave her a rea
ssuring nod. Alex pulled a small knife from his pocket and cut a tiny slice in her wrist, then guided her arm to Julius’s mouth. As the blood touched his lips, his mouth opened, and Gabi actually sighed in relief. Then his fangs sank into her flesh, and she couldn’t hold back the cry of pain.

  She’d been bitten by a large dog on her arm once, as a young, cocky teenager. She’d been overconfident, and the dog had taken her by surprise. She’d never forgotten the lesson, as the memory of the pain had stayed with her long after the bite had healed. This was worse. Without the adrenalin high and excitement of being in a fight to take the edge off, this was worse than the Werewolf bite from a few nights ago. The pain was excruciating. She’d had no idea how much Vampires could control the effect of their bites, but now she understood why some bite victims screamed their heads off. She’d thought they were more frightened than actually in pain. Boy, was she wrong. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth against crying out again. A strong hand gripped her shoulder, offering unspoken support.

  Chapter 15

  She was aware of more voices in the room, but the fuzzy hearing made it hard to figure out who else had arrived. She forced her eyes open. Jonathon and Liam, Julius’s business manager, came through the door. Jonathon rushed to the sofa and crouched down, peering worriedly at Gabi.

  “What are you thinking, letting her feed him?” he demanded of Alexander, loud enough that even Gabi could hear him. “She’s lost enough blood already. Can’t you see the condition she’s in?”

  Alexander responded defensively, though his words were muffled.

  “My choice, Doc.” Gabi was pretty sure her voice just cracked. She cleared her throat. “My choice, not Lex’s.” She distracted herself from the agony by checking on Julius. His colour looked better already, and she thought he might be on the verge of coming around.