by Hope, Anne
The door swung open, and Adrian spun around to face the intruder.
Marcus stood in the narrow doorframe, his expression as sharp as the blade he held. “I had a feeling I’d find you here.” He took in the scene with morbid curiosity. “What the hell’s going on? This place is all over the news.”
“Kyros got to the kid.” With a jerk of his head, Adrian indicated Ricky, who stood swaying on his feet, his features dazed and blank.
“You better go. The Watchers are on their way.” Marcus’s voice rang with urgency. “I came ahead to warn you. If they find you here, they’ll think you did this.”
A feeling came upon Adrian. One he couldn’t quite name. Was it disbelief, confusion, gratitude? “How can you be sure I didn’t?”
“I just am.” Marcus ensnared Adrian’s gaze, and for a brief moment, the two of them connected the way a father and son should. Then the moment passed and they were back to being strangers.
“Eddie.” Adrian pointed to the seemingly dead body. “He’s a Hybrid.”
No more needed to be said. Marcus understood. “I’ll take care of him.” A corpse disappearing from the morgue would be sure to raise some eyebrows, especially if the corpse in question got up and walked away. There was only one solution. Marcus had to make sure the authorities never learned of Eddie’s death, which meant wiping the incident from the mind of every witness here.
“Go. Get out of here.” Marcus shot a worried glance at the door. “They’re close. I can feel them.”
With a brisk nod, Adrian hastened to the exit, then stopped and met his father’s pointed stare one last time. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Marcus’s features darkened. “I’m not kidding. This stays between you and me.” The Watcher’s mouth twitched at the corners but stopped short of curling into a smile. “Remember, this is a one-shot deal. Don’t make a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Adrian smiled. Despite his tough-guy act, Marcus had taken a serious risk by coming ahead to warn him, and Adrian couldn’t help but appreciate it. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, right before he barreled out the side door and disappeared into the gray light of day.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Angie hadn’t moved from the couch since Adrian left. She sat fixed to the spot, watching the news with a sense of growing trepidation. When the newscaster finally announced that the crisis had been averted, she couldn’t bring herself to relax. A festering unease in the pit of her stomach prevented her from feeling relieved.
Reassurance would only come when Adrian returned and told her exactly how things had gone down. Based on what she’d learned, the news could be manipulated as effectively as people’s minds.
She watched Ricky being dragged away in cuffs, and her heart hardened to stone then sank to her stomach. What would become of him now?
Heaviness settled over her. She’d failed both him and his brother. Her fumbling attempts to help Ricky had resulted in nothing but misfortune and death. He probably would’ve been safer at the crumbling subway station. Funny how the places you thought of as safe sometimes proved the most dangerous.
The door to her penthouse swung open, and Angie bounded to her feet and spun around, anxious to see Adrian again. But it wasn’t Adrian who pranced into her home. It was his creepy uncle, Kyros.
“Alone at last.” The Kleptopsych displayed a perfect row of pearl-white teeth. It was obviously his attempt at a smile, but it came across as a snarl. “I’ve deeply anticipated this moment.”
His sudden presence in her home took her off guard, and for a few panicked breaths she couldn’t move. When she recovered from the shock, she stumbled back, looking around for some kind of weapon. The more she retreated, the more Kyros advanced on her, his icy blue eyes fastened on her face.
“Adrian’s on his way. He’ll be here any second,” she warned. “If he finds you here, he’ll kill you.”
“Really? With the help of what army?” His voice was so soft, so silky, it sounded sinister. Spiders crawled down her spine on thin legs of ice.
She sidled up to the mantelpiece, where a collection of makeshift weapons stood in a neat row—a pewter statue, a marble picture frame, a set of metal bookends. Remembering what Adrian had told her, she improvised. “The Watchers.” Hadn’t Adrian said the Watchers’ sole purpose in life was to protect mankind against creatures like Kyros?
For a second, his arrogant expression faltered. She could’ve sworn he winced. Then his features smoothed out again. “You’re lying.” He took a predatory step forward, then another. “You can’t fool a firstborn. I can see inside you.” He was almost upon her now. “I can smell your fear, taste your desperation—”
She grabbed one of the metal bookends and swung it at his head, but he stopped her by raising his hand. The bookend slipped from her grip and clunked to the floor. He clutched her by the wrist, immobilizing her against the wall. “Anticipate your every move.”
Terrified, Angie broke free from his grasp and ran, but in a blink he caught up to her and gripped her by the shoulder. The chain around her neck snagged on his finger and broke free. The angel pendant fell, sliding down her chest like an icy drop of water to wedge itself in the thick rug.
She wrestled, labored to escape the powerful hold he had on her, but her efforts were in vain. He was too strong. He trapped her with nothing but one hand and the hypnotic cadence of his voice. “Stop struggling and come with me.”
Her brain told her to keep fighting, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. It grew compliant, meek and languid. Her next breath hitched in her throat. Against her will, Angie followed him to the door.
Adrian was anxious to get back to Angie. He’d left her alone too long. He needed to see her face, to know she was all right. He didn’t understand the uneasy slide of dread low in his abdomen, couldn’t explain why his mouth suddenly went dry and his pulse sprinted out of control.
When he shot out of the elevator to find the door to Angie’s penthouse wide open, coldness invaded his lungs, and something lethal crept into his bloodstream to frost his veins.
Kyros.
He couldn’t be sure the dark energy he sensed in the air belonged to his uncle because the bastard was cloaked, but every instinct he possessed told him that it did.
The place was deserted. There was no sign of Angie. Adrian swore under his breath. He was a goddamn idiot. He’d played right into his uncle’s sadistic hands. The attack on the halfway house had been a diversion, a clever ruse to get him to leave Angie alone and unprotected.
Burying his fingers in his hair, he fought the urge to punch a wall or overturn the furniture. He took a few deep breaths to steady his jangled nerves. Trashing the penthouse wouldn’t solve anything. Neither would cursing his own stupidity.
The only thing that mattered now was getting her back. Unfortunately, the cloak Cal had erected around Angie shielded her not only from the Kleptopsychs but from him as well.
At Adrian’s feet, a flash of gold caught his eye. He crouched and retrieved the object buried in the carpet. When he opened his fingers, Angie’s pendant lay in his palm, reflecting the light. Warmth instantly spread from the angel wings to brand his flesh, and every tracking instinct he possessed reared to life within him.
Cloaked or not, she was calling out to him. His hand closed around the pendant. With any luck, the faint echo of energy resonating from the gold would lead him straight to her.
Adrenaline flooding his veins, Adrian vaulted to his feet and bolted from the penthouse.
When Kyros’s suggestion finally released her, Angie found herself standing on the Manhattan Bridge, on the wrong side of the pedestrian walkway, staring down at the East River. Her feet were wedged precariously on the handrail, and her fingers clutched the tall metal fence behind her.
Twilight had rolled in over the city, painting the water an eerie purple. How long had she been standing here?
She knew she was on the south side, because in the distance t
he Brooklyn Bridge spanned lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty thrust her arm into the darkening sky. Overhead, cars zipped by at alarming speed, the drivers completely unaware that a woman stood a few feet below, desperately holding on to the metal mesh so as not to fall into the hungry mouth of the river.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyros’s words seemed to drift up from hell itself. “Beautiful and deadly.”
Angie ventured a glance toward him. The Kleptopsych stood a few feet away, on the pedestrian bridge. He watched her with a predatory gleam in his eyes, his gaze brimming with smug satisfaction.
“Why are you doing this?” She tightened her grip on the cold metal and dug her heels into the narrow beam beneath her.
“I’m trying to help you.” Those pale eyes looked as purple as the water in the shadows. She couldn’t believe she’d ever mistaken this creature for a human being. There was nothing human about him. He was every monster from every nightmare she’d ever had, and she couldn’t escape him. He was inside her head.
“Help me? How is this helping me?” Her back and shoulders began to ache from the strain. Soon, her muscles would weaken from the effort of holding on. Then she’d fall. She was a strong swimmer, but she’d heard the currents in the channel could be brutal.
“You’re dying, my dear. I’m helping you end your suffering.”
The knife permanently lodged in her belly twisted, and pain slashed through her. For a brief instant, her fingers slackened, and she nearly lost her footing. Angie clamped her fingers around the fence to steady herself. She knew what Kyros was trying to accomplish, and she’d be damned if she let him win. “I’m not suffering.”
“Not yet, but you will be.” Goose bumps rose from her pores at the sick pleasure she caught in his voice. The cool wind rising from the river couldn’t have chilled her more than the eerie caress of his coldhearted words. “You and everyone around you. Your mother has been suffering for years. Your father suffered so much his heart gave out.”
An acid burn spread to coat the walls of her stomach. He’d tapped into her guilt and was using it to manipulate her. Angie pressed her lids together and inhaled deeply.
Don’t let him get to you.
“Your mother still harbors the hope that you will recover, but you and I both know that’s not going to happen.” A whistling breeze blew, underscoring Kyros’s words and making them sound even more prophetic. “Funny thing, hope. It can be so inspiring, so uplifting. Which only means you have farther to fall once it releases its hold on you. Despair is so much more impressive when it comes in the wake of hope.”
Shut out his voice. Don’t listen to him.
“The longer you hold on, the harder your death will be on her.”
Sweat sprang to coat her palms. Her hands grew slippery, but she refused to let the metal slide from her grasp.
“And what of Adrian?”
Holy hell. Don’t go there. Please don’t go there.
“Have you any idea how devastating it is for a Hybrid to find his soul and lose it? He will never recover from the loss unless the connection to his soul is severed.” His voice softened. “By surrendering your life-force to me, you will be sparing him a tremendous amount of pain.”
For a second Angie almost believed he had Adrian’s best interests at heart.
Almost.
She tamped down her doubts, the fear nibbling at her gut, the guilt that was as familiar to her as the sound of her own heartbeat. “Nice try.”
A slow, burning pressure invaded her mind. Oh, no. He was carving his way into her psyche again. She fought him, tried to push him out, but he was too powerful. The walls she struggled to erect in her head collapsed under the attack.
“She will not save you,” he repeated. “Nothing can.”
Hopelessness crushed her windpipe, made it damn near impossible to breathe. He was right. When hope died, it left the door wide open for despair. Her fingers grew lax around the barrier at her back. Suddenly, the wide expanse of water below looked infinitely inviting, like a warm purple blanket beckoning her to seek shelter within it.
Her feet slid a little closer to the edge.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Stop.” Adrian raced across the Manhattan Bridge and jumped down onto the deserted walkway. By tunneling his vision, he’d caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding below, and the sight had turned his bones to ice. Angie stood on the wrong side of the fence with her feet on the railing, barely holding on.
He landed on the pavement with a loud thud and charged toward Kyros.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The icy confidence on his uncle’s face stopped Adrian dead in his tracks. “One small mental push and she’ll fall to her death.”
Then Kyros would call her soul to him and destroy them both.
“Let her go.” Adrian knew there would be no negotiating with his uncle, but he had to try. “I’m the one you want. I’ll come back to the catacombs with you, be your tracker. Anything. Just don’t hurt her.”
“Ah, but you’ll be a far better soldier when you’re no longer hindered by a soul.”
“Really?” He sought to connect with Angie’s mind, to break the hold Kyros had on her. “How many goddamn Rogues do you have working for you? Without a soul, I’d be impossible to control,” he challenged. “But if you let my soul live, then you’ll have something to hold over my head indefinitely.”
Kyros reflected. “Perhaps, but it won’t be nearly as satisfying.”
So Adrian had been right all along. Kyros had no interest in turning him into his star tracker. Not anymore. What the bastard craved now above all else was revenge. And Angie was the tool he planned to use to get it.
Adrian pushed harder, struggling to mend the links Kyros had broken in her mind. “Don’t let him use you, Angie,” he whispered silently to her. “Break the hold. You’re strong enough. I know you are.”
This was the second time today he had to battle to free someone from his uncle’s twisted influence and, like Ricky, Angie resisted his efforts.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”
“Then climb up. Take my hand. Let me help you.” Something precious inside him broke, then struggled to piece itself back together. “I need you, Angie.” Emotion scratched at his throat. “I love you.”
These words were the last he’d ever expected to hear himself say, but he meant them from the depths of the soul Kyros stood determined to destroy.
To his surprise, Angie took a cautious step back.
“That’s it. Come to me.”
She turned around and pressed the front of her body to the fence. As soon as Adrian realized he’d broken Kyros’s hold on her, he sprang forth, slamming into his uncle and sending him flying across the narrow platform. Kyros landed on the pavement with Adrian on top of him. They rolled across the cold concrete, Adrian fighting to subdue his uncle while keeping his eyes trained on Angie.
Kyros wrestled free from Adrian’s grasp and stumbled to his feet. Noticing Angie’s desperate climb to freedom, he willed the fence into motion. A terrified scream issued from her throat as she fought to hold on to the quaking structure.
With a furious growl, Adrian lunged again, this time sending Kyros crashing into the opposite railing. Metal screeched and collapsed under the impact. Losing his balance, Kyros fell back, disappearing beyond the walkway.
Adrian didn’t stop to check if his uncle had plummeted into the river. He was too desperate to get to Angie and pull her to safety. He rushed to her side and tore the fence open with his bare hands. She sidled sideways, intending to squeeze through the opening he’d made for her, her fingers reaching for his.
Just as Adrian was about to grab hold of her hand, Kyros clambered back onto the walkway and focused his gaze on the bridge above, where traffic roared.
Shit, no.
Before Adrian could react, a red pickup truck flew over the railing, rocketing toward them. The ground beneath Adrian’s feet rumbled, and he stumbled back.
When he regained his balance, the tall barrier was gone…and so was Angie.
With an outraged cry, he raced to the jagged void the truck had carved into the night. The sight of twisted metal and broken concrete greeted him, but there was no sign of Angie. The river had taken her.
Kyros leaned over the broken railing, waiting for Angie’s soul to rise from the deadly expanse of water so that he could swallow it. Greed twisted his features into an ugly grimace Adrian recognized all too well.
He couldn’t let his uncle win. Couldn’t let Angie die. He’d promised he’d protect her, and he had every intention of keeping that promise, even if he had to brave the river to do so. Water paralyzed him, but not as much as the thought of losing Angie.
Turning his back on a gloating Kyros, Adrian dove headfirst into the icy river.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Frigid tongues licked his flesh as the East River pulled him deeper into its churning belly. Adrian moved his arms and legs, scanning the river’s depths for a glimpse of Angie. Darkness enfolded him, thick and impenetrable. Normally, he could see exceptionally well in the dark, but it seemed his special night vision didn’t extend to water.
He had the power to transform air into matter, will subway cars into flight, leap tall buildings in a single bound, but the one thing he’d never attempted to do was swim. He’d thought once he dove in, he’d figure it out. How hard could it be?
He struggled to surface, found it damn near impossible. How the hell did humans do it? Worse yet was that they enjoyed it, even called it a sport.
Several feet below, a flash of red caught his eye.
The pickup truck.
Letting the water drag him down—he discovered it was much easier to sink than it was to rise—Adrian floated toward the vehicle and ripped the door off its hinges, freeing the driver. With a grateful nod, the man beat his arms like wings and speared from the sinking truck toward the beam of glittering light that cleaved the river’s surface.
