“It will open soon.” He looked confident about that as he stalked towards the centre of the roof.
Aiko looked out across the incredible panorama, taking in the city that stretched around her, pockets of taller buildings creating an undulating skyline. She spotted Sugamo just off to her right, and further to her right and closer to her was the sprawling green that surrounded the Imperial Palace. To her left, Tokyo Tower speared the sky, bright orange and almost glowing in the sunshine.
It would have been beautiful if she had been standing here with her Esher.
She glanced down over the edge of the roof, at the stomach-turning drop to the busy street below, and then followed fake-Esher when his eyes landed on her and she felt his impatience. As she neared the other end of the roof, the air began to hum with power. It vibrated through her, lit up her body and had her gravitating towards it.
Fake-Esher’s gaze tracked her as she drifted forwards, towards the source of the power.
There was nothing there, just an expanse of grey roof, but at the same time there was something. She could feel it. Dark. Powerful. Like nothing she had ever felt before.
“I feel it, but I can’t see it.” She paced the area, and then lifted her head and pinned her gaze on fake-Esher. “Should I be able to see it?”
“Humans can’t.” He turned and scowled at the city, and the sun, and then moved closer to her. “But you’ll be able to see it when it opens.”
So he knew she wasn’t wholly human, that she had a power of her own.
“You can get your phone out now.” Fake-Esher’s cold tone had her looking his way again, pulling her gaze away from the patch of roof where the air hummed strongest.
She pointed to it. “There’s no gate. I wanted to take a picture of us with the gate, not with a roof.”
His blue eyes narrowed and he took a hard step towards her. “I need you to get your phone out and message my brother. I’m not feeling so good.”
No. He wanted her to message one of his brothers because he wanted word to reach Esher, because he knew Esher would come for her, and then the daemon would force him to open the gate.
She shook her head and backed off a step. “If you’re not feeling well, we should just go.”
His jaw tensed and he held his hand out to her. “Give me your phone.”
“Use your own one,” she countered.
He was quick to respond. “I forgot it.”
He was even quicker to close the gap between them. She gasped as he appeared before her and turned to run, but he grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and yanked her to face him.
She shoved her hands against his chest. “You’re hurting me.”
He growled, twisted her arm, and she cried out as pain blazed up it. “Just give me the fucking phone.”
Tears filled her eyes as her arm throbbed, the pain so intense it stole her breath, and she wanted to shake her head, but the look in his eyes warned her that he would hurt her worse if she didn’t do as he wanted.
Her fingers shook as she reached her free hand into her pocket and fumbled with her phone. Before she could try to send a blind call for help to someone, fake-Esher grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm up, forcing her to pull her phone from her pocket.
He smiled coldly.
Reached for the phone.
Bellowed in agony as he went flying across the roof to land hard against an air-conditioning outlet.
Aiko looked down at the glowing ginger cat charm dangling from her phone.
Her phone vibrated, the small display on the cover revealing Daimon’s name.
Fake-Esher lumbered onto his feet and shook his head, snarling dark words in a tongue she didn’t know. Before she could open her phone and warn Daimon that a daemon had her and tell him not to let Esher know and to come for her, the daemon appeared before her again and knocked her hand, sending the phone tumbling across the flat grey roof.
Only when she looked up, her heart lodged in her throat, it wasn’t fake-Esher standing before her.
It was a beautiful tall woman with long deep violet hair that shimmered black in the light and eyes like quicksilver, silvery pools that constantly shifted and changed, swirling as Aiko stared into them.
Her black-painted lips twisted in a cold smile.
Aiko gasped as the woman grabbed her by her throat, hauled her off her feet and marched her towards the edge of the roof. She frantically shook her head, her pulse rocketing as she looked down and the edge of the roof appeared below her feet, and then there was nothing but a terrifying drop to her death.
“Please.” She grappled with the woman’s arm, holding it tightly as fear swamped her and she tried to reach for the edge of the roof with her toes. The woman pulled her back, and she breathed a little easier as her feet touched the raised wall. “What do you want with me?”
“First, I want you to message that bastard of yours.” The woman glared at the phone on the roof off to Aiko’s left.
Aiko breathed through her fear, calming herself enough that she could focus again, and turned that focus on the woman. It was hard, but it wasn’t as difficult as when she had tried to read Keras.
“And then what?” She had to keep the woman talking, keep her distracted, so she had time to go deeper, to penetrate the layers of fog that clouded her thoughts.
The woman’s smile widened. “And then you become Esher’s collar. With you in my possession, he will do anything I demand… even turn on his own brothers.”
No.
Her focus faltered as cold swept through her.
She couldn’t let that happen. Hurting his own brothers would kill him, but she was sure he would do it for her. He would bear the pain, because he loved her. She wasn’t going to let this woman put him through that hell. She had to get away, somehow.
Aiko focused on the woman again and pushed harder this time, forcing herself to keep going even when her head ached and her nose stung as if she was going to get a nosebleed.
A hazy feeling came to her.
Fear.
Not her own.
The woman was afraid. Of Esher? His brothers?
She focused harder, and managed to penetrate the woman’s mind, enough to catch a few words.
It wasn’t Esher or his brothers the woman feared. It was another woman, someone powerful, someone who would kill her if she failed in her task. Esher was vital. A key. Key to what?
Them winning or something else?
“Get your phone and make the call.” The woman pulled her towards her and Aiko shook her head.
“No.” She wouldn’t alert Esher to her plight, because he would fall right into the woman’s hands, and she couldn’t let that happen.
The moment her footing felt sure enough, she pushed forwards, barrelling into the woman. When she knocked the woman backwards, surprise rang through her. She had expected a daemon to be stronger, able to withstand her slight weight.
Maybe she wasn’t strong.
Maybe the reason she hadn’t held Aiko over the drop for longer than a few seconds was because she had been weakening and had feared dropping her.
Aiko kicked her hard in her shin, broke free of her grip and ran for her phone. If she could just get hold of it, she could use the power of the charm to repel the daemon.
The daemon snatched her wrist before she could reach it and twisted with her, spinning her back towards the edge of the roof.
She hit it, screamed as she toppled forwards and lost balance, tumbling over the edge.
The woman snagged her arm and Aiko screamed again as she slipped through the daemon’s grip. The woman grunted and lurched forwards with her, her stomach hitting the raised edge of the roof, but she managed to keep her hand locked around her as it hit Aiko’s wrist.
Aiko looked down, heart hammering and on the verge of stopping as the street below zoomed in and out.
“Give me your other hand!” The woman lowered her free one.
Aiko scrambled, trying to grab it, swinging wildly as t
he woman grunted with each attempt that pulled her closer to falling too.
Part of her said to pull the woman over the edge with her, that she could spare Esher if she sacrificed herself, because she was sure the fall would kill the daemon too.
Esher.
The thought of never seeing him again brought tears to her eyes.
She couldn’t do it, not even to save him. She wasn’t strong enough.
She redoubled her effort, desperately trying to get hold of the daemon’s other hand as the woman stretched it towards her, her legs flailing beneath her.
Her phone vibrated again and the woman looked towards it, and Aiko was glad that she couldn’t answer it and lure Esher to her, that the charm would protect it from the daemon.
She knew that it was him calling now, because rain came out of nowhere, hammering her and getting in her eyes as she fought to reach the daemon’s other hand.
He knew she was in trouble.
He was coming for her.
If she could just hold on, just claw herself back up onto the roof, she could attack the woman again and maybe this time get the upper hand. She could reach her phone and make a run for it, telling Esher where she was so he could save her.
Her heart lodged in her throat as her wet arm slipped through the woman’s grip.
She suddenly felt empty—no emotion, no sensation, nothing.
But one thought.
She didn’t want to die.
CHAPTER 20
Marek stalked through the industrial neighbourhood, slipping between the shadows as he tracked his prey, dark hunger licking through him. Stars twinkled above him, the lights of the city centre dim this far from it. In the distance a car horn sounded, and his prey twitched, one of the males twisting towards the source of the noise.
Marek leaned deeper into the shadows, using his senses to track the vile creatures instead as he waited for the male to move on, following his comrades through the huge crumbling warehouses.
When he had picked up their trail and tracked them to this area in the outskirts of Madrid, he had expected them to head towards one of the grim high-rises. They had surprised him by breaking off the main road and heading over the tall fence that surrounded the industrial complex.
His fingers closed over the blade sheathed against his hip and he stroked the worn hilt, the leather smooth beneath his fingers from years of use.
He itched with the urge to break cover, to attack the group before it reached the warehouse, but held himself back, aware that a greater prize would be his if he had a little patience. They would lead him to the others, and he would attack them then, dealing with them before they could raise the alarm and scatter like rats.
When the small group moved on, he slipped from the shadows and along the side of one of the buildings, keeping close to it and using the boxes and dumpsters as cover.
He reached the next warehouse and paused, assessing the route ahead of him.
His smile was slow as the group banged on the door of the next warehouse along. It opened, revealing another of their kind, one who greeted them with jibes he didn’t pay attention to as the hunger swirling inside him grew stronger, pushing him to attack now.
Soon.
He would drench his blade in blood soon enough.
Would scratch this itch that wouldn’t leave him alone, had been irritating him for close to a week now, telling him that he had gone too long without a fix.
Gods, he needed it.
The group moved inside, and he almost groaned as he finally broke cover, awareness of what was to come, that his patience had paid off, sending a hot jolt of pleasure through him.
Now.
He stalked towards the corrugated steel building, his heart pumping harder with each step, muscles coiling tighter. He grinned as he pulled the curved blade from his black combat trousers and it flashed silver beneath the lights mounted on the sides of the warehouses.
His senses reported twenty of them. No, thirty. He did groan now, a low moan of pleasure as he quickened his pace, the hunger to get started overwhelming him now that he knew so many of them were in one location.
His for the killing.
His lips stretched into a broad grin, flashing his emerging fangs.
The bastards wouldn’t know what had hit them.
It was going to be glorious.
Thirty of the rats against him, the odds in their favour because he would stick with his vow to use only his blade, this blade, against them.
Marek looked down at it, at the beauty of it as it curved from his palm, the metal nicked in places, worn from centuries of use.
Centuries of eliminating their kind.
He lifted his boot and slammed it against the door, sending it flying off its hinges. It smashed into one of the creatures and it went down with a groan, the scent of its blood swamping the air.
Sickening him.
Close to thirty pairs of eyes whipped his way.
Glowing red in the darkness.
Fucking vampires.
He launched into the middle of them, his blade gutting one before it even saw him coming, and as the creature hissed in pain and the silver devoured its insides, a cacophony rose around him.
Music to his ears.
He grinned as he lashed out again, blood spraying over him as he swiped the blade across a throat, and then twisted it deep in the chest of another vampire, and then plunged it behind him, stabbing one in the thigh as it tried to get the jump on him.
They swarmed him then, their shrieks and roars ringing in his ears, and he grunted as two big males hit him from behind, knocking him forwards. The sound of his shirt ripping filled his ears, and fire swept through him, blazing along the tracks of the vampires’ claws. He didn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing his pain as he shook them off, as he dispatched one of them and drove the other back. He made no sound as he blocked and parried, shoved his blade into the heart of another, and then cut a female’s throat and kicked her away from him.
One latched onto his arm, sinking fangs deep into his flesh, stealing his blood to weaken him.
Marek kicked him in the knee, breaking it, and then brought his knife down into the back of his skull as he crumpled. He yanked it out, twisted to dislodge a second vampire before their fangs could pierce him, and swiped the silver blade across the chest of a male who appeared before him.
The male hissed and leaped backwards.
Marek launched after him, catching the flicker in his crimson eyes that said he was going to run.
Not on his watch.
He caught the bastard by his shirt and pulled him back, grinned as he shoved the blade deep into his side and the male jerked in his arms, his keening cry rising above the growls and hisses that surrounded him.
More claws slashed at him, and another vampire managed to sink her fangs in while he was distracted with shoving a male away. He grabbed her by her head and ripped her away from him, and when she tried to break free, snarling like a wild animal at him, he squeezed.
Hard.
Her skull gave under the pressure, and blood sprayed over his chest, coated his hand and splattered up his arm, hitting his skin through his shredded dark shirt.
He growled and shoved her corpse away from him, and turned, bringing his blade up as he spun on the spot to face his next opponent. The vampire leaped back to dodge, but didn’t run. He roared, his eyes wild and wide, and lashed out.
With a blade.
Marek dodged backwards, but the blade caught him across his chest, carving a shallow line straight across his pectorals.
He glared at the vampire and made him acquainted with his own blade as he came around behind him, faster than the rat could track. He plunged his silver knife into the male’s back and whipped it out again as he flailed and fell forwards, hissing as he tried to reach around to grab it.
Marek launched it at a vampire who was trying to run. It spun end over end through the air, a silver blur, and lodged in the female’s thigh, sendin
g her down. She shrieked and clawed at the blade, her agony palpable as the silver ate at her flesh.
He stalked towards her, pulled it out and stared down at her, feeling nothing as she desperately tried to claw away from him.
He strode after her, watching her suffer, watching that false hope spark to life in her eyes as the pain subsided and she neared the exit.
When she was within a metre of it, he stepped into her path.
She froze, looked up at him and shook her head, her eyes pleading him.
He had no mercy to give her.
He brought the blade down hard, deep into the back of her skull.
Pulled it out.
Wiped it off as he walked back towards the centre of the warehouse, his arms and back stinging from the claw marks and bites, and the only sound in the expansive building his own ragged breathing.
Gods, he felt good.
Alive.
Marek took in the beauty of the carnage he had wrought, the bodies fizzing as they decayed and the blood that covered everything glistening like a sea of rubies in the dim light coming in through the windows.
Satisfaction hummed in his veins.
The hunger sated at last.
With close to thirty kills, it would be at least another few weeks before the need to hunt rose again.
He sheathed his blade at his hip.
He had been a victim of it for centuries now, ever since he had made his vow to hunt and destroy every single one of their kind, despite the fact his father classified them as Hellspawn.
He needed to kill them.
Couldn’t help himself.
They needed to pay for what they had done to him.
A slow clap shattered the silence.
He wheeled to face the intruder, his blade back in his hand and in front of him in an instant, his heart pounding faster as adrenaline surged again and the urge to fight returned, pushing out the pain.
He stilled when he spotted the lone female sitting on top of a group of crates, her slender legs folded and the silver filigree that decorated her thick black knee-high boots catching the light as she rocked her right leg forwards.
Her hands pressed into the crates on either side of her hips, her matching black vambraces covering them from wrist to elbow, and she leaned forwards, flashing cleavage in her silver and black chest-piece that he diligently kept his eyes off.
Esher (Guardians of Hades Romance Series Book 3) Page 21
