I stroked his nape. I didn’t know what to say, because he was probably right. I’d wondered myself if it had been Karoly Kral who’d sent the vampires to kill me.
It’s why I’d been reluctant to tell Gabriel the whole story. Part of me had been afraid Gabriel wouldn’t believe me, and the other part hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Because if Karoly Kral was that against his son mating with me, where did that leave us?
“All right. All right.” Gabriel dragged in a breath and pulled back to meet my eyes. “Promise me you won’t run away. That you’ll give me a chance to work this out. That you’ll give us a chance. And I don’t mean because you accepted that thrice-damned blood bond.”
I nodded. The lump in my throat had grown larger, but I knew he needed to hear the words.
“I promise,” I said in ragged tones.
His gaze searched mine. Then he exhaled. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I mean it. I swear.”
“Okay.” He gathered me close again. For a few seconds, we clung to each other, and then he set me away. “Let’s go rescue that brother of yours.”
We reached Manhattan a little after nine a.m. and wended our way through the heavy traffic, Tomas right behind us. A short while later, the blue sedan peeled off toward Fifth Avenue and Central Park while we continued north to Gabriel’s penthouse on the East River.
Tomas was going to stake out the building while Gabriel waited to hear from the Fagans.
My knee started jumping. In fact, I could barely sit still. I wanted to leap out of the car and race across town to Fifth Avenue and Joey.
Gabriel set a hand on my knee, stilling it. “We’ll get him back.”
I threaded my fingers through his. “Yes.” I refused to believe anything else.
Gabriel started speaking calmly, not saying much at all. Trying to soothe me.
And I appreciated it, even though it didn’t work.
Outside my window, New York was going about its business. We passed a woman in a short pink skirt walking a shih tzu with a matching pink leash. A man in a dark blue suit strode by, brief case in hand, and hailed a taxi.
Around 80th Street, Gabriel nodded at an eight-story high-rise on the river. “That’s my building.”
He’d explained earlier that he kept the top three floors for himself. He lived in the penthouse, and the two floors below housed his offices, a gym, and living space for his staff, including his Manhattan housekeeper. The lower five floors were rented to local businesses. For security purposes, Gabriel’s three floors were separated from the bottom five floors and could only be reached by private elevator.
“You’ll be guarded at all times,” he added. “There are security cameras in all the main rooms, and I’ve already alerted my people that you’ll be in the penthouse. Two guards will be on duty in the foyer.”
I’d listened to most of this with only half a brain, but when he paused, I sent him an incredulous look. “You own the whole building?”
“Yeah.” He headed down the ramp into the underground garage.
I blinked. Who the hell owned an entire Manhattan apartment building? “Just how rich are you?”
He lifted his shoulders, let them drop. “Fuck if I know. I’d have to ask my accountants.”
I shook my head. “Vampires.”
We took the elevator up to the penthouse. The foyer ran the length of the building and was lush with tropical plants lit by a trio of colored-glass skylights. Normally, I would’ve been all over it, but today I only spared a brief glance around.
Two black-uniformed vampires stood to one side of the elevator, hands clasped behind their back. When Gabriel nodded at them, the closer man dipped his chin.
“Everything’s quiet, sir.”
“Good. This is Camila,” he said, addressing them both. “You’re to treat her like she’s the most precious thing in the goddamn world, understand? Anything happens to her, and I’ll have your heads.”
Their expressions didn’t change. “You can count on us,” the first man replied.
As we headed into the living room, Gabriel’s phone buzzed. “It’s George Fagan,” he said, glancing at it.
I grabbed his arm. “Joey?”
“Yes.” His grin all teeth. “He’s there.”
20
Gabriel
I left Mila in the capable hands of Jessa, my young and scarily efficient Manhattan housekeeper, and headed back down the elevator. As I reached the parking garage, my burner phone buzzed. A string of nonsense letters and numbers preceded the message, identifying it as from my father.
Have evidence S.I. is holding Z.
Fuck. So he’d confirmed that Slayers, Inc. was involved.
I stared at the screen. Why hadn’t my father sprung Zaq? But I’d barely absorbed that when I received a second text.
Get rid of the woman.
My fingers clamped on the plastic case. Tomas had been busy.
I was about to return the phone to my pocket when a third text flashed onto the screen.
Or the deal is off.
The hell it was. A crimson-tinged fog clouded my vision. Blood hammered in my ears.
Because of my dad’s interference, I’d spent three years without Mila. Not only that, she’d almost died because I wasn’t there to protect her. It might even have been Father who’d sicced the vampires on her, although that wasn’t his style. No, he’d have killed her instead and buried the body so deep I’d never have found her.
Still, it was his fault that Mila had been hunted like a goddamn animal. And now he had the balls to order me to get rid of her?
I dropped my head back, stared at the elevator ceiling.
Disobey Father, and I could kiss goodbye any chance of ever being Primus. Obey, and I’d lose Mila.
It wasn’t even a choice. As the elevator door slid open, I jabbed out a text and hit send.
She stays.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and strode to my car.
Tomas and a small band of some of our best men were waiting under the trees in Central Park across from the building. Like me, they were dressed for action in dark T-shirts and tactical pants. Tomas stood at their center, watching me approach through mirrored sunglasses, his customary smile playing on his lips. His sensitive skin was shaded by a black fedora. Even his hands were protected by leather gloves.
My molars ground together. At that moment, I could’ve easily staked Tomas and walked away grinning. But I needed him to get Joey out. The lieutenant was a smart, no-holds-barred fighter and the men trusted him. Hell, I did, too—at least in this. Other than my brothers, there was no one I’d rather have at my back during a fight.
With him were two vampire enforcers who, like Tomas, were old and powerful enough to resist the day sleep. He’d also called in three dhampir soldiers and a couple of human grunts who did duty as chauffeurs.
George Fagan had texted me the building plans, and I’d forwarded them to Tomas. Meanwhile, Tomas had ordered one of the grunts to pose as a deliveryman to distract the doorman. An enforcer had slipped into the building with him, concealed in the shadow dimension, and raced through the building at lightning speed.
The grunt was reporting back as I arrived. He hadn’t been past the foyer, but he confirmed that the doorman was a dhampir. “I saw his fangs.”
“How many men are on duty in the foyer?” I asked.
“All I saw was a doorman. But he does duty as security—a big dude with scary eyes. No human would mess with him.”
The vampire enforcer returned at that point. Tomas dismissed both grunts to wait with the cars, saying, “Be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.”
The men nodded and jogged off.
The enforcer was bulked-up for a vampire, with hard black eyes in a broad face and a head shaved smooth as a billiard ball. He’d had to stick to the hall and the few rooms which happened to be open. Even in the shadow dimension, we have a physical form something like thick smoke, and can’t walk through w
alls.
“But as far as I can tell,” he said, “the apartments on the lower level are given to thralls.”
“Their favorites,” said Tomas.
“Or maybe it’s a brothel for blood slaves,” I said.
The enforcer shrugged a big shoulder. “I definitely scented humans—maybe more than one—imprisoned in the basement. But the basement door was solid steel and locked down tight so I couldn’t verify if it was the Vittore kid.”
He proceeded to run down some possible security issues, including the dhampir doorman, the placing of the security cameras on each floor, and the extra level of security for both the basement and the penthouse floor.
“The basement door can only be accessed by a security pad requiring iris recognition,” he added. “Or a damn good security expert.”
I nodded, impressed. “What’s your name?”
He straightened to his full height. “Isaac Bajoie, sir.”
“From New Orleans?”
He nodded.
“So Redbone is your kapitán?”
“Yes, sir.” Bajoie’s full lips pinched together like he’d tasted something bad.
“Speak,” Tomas commanded.
“Redbone is inside. I sensed him.” His gaze shifted back to me. “Be careful, sir. I’m not in his inner circle—not since I came to New York to work for your father—but I hear things. This is more than an unhappy kapitán. He’s working with someone.”
A low growl emanated from Tomas’s chest. “You should have reported this to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I raised a hand, halting Tomas from rebuking him further. It was clear Bajoie had been torn between loyalty to my father and his kapitán.
“This person Redbone’s working with. You have a name?”
“No. And that’s the honest truth,” he said with a glance at Tomas. “I swear on the Dark Mother herself.”
I nodded. “You’ll inform us immediately if you hear anything.”
“That’s a direct order,” Tomas added.
“Understood.” Bajoie seemed almost relieved at the order to inform on his kapitán. Redbone had apparently made at least one enemy in New Orleans.
I turned back to Tomas, and together, we worked out a plan. Tomas would enter the building on the pretext of a meeting with Redbone while the rest of us slipped in as shadows. Tomas would take out the doormen, and then we’d split into two groups. Me, Bajoie and two dhampirs would take the basement while Tomas and the others disabled the security cameras and remained in the foyer to fight off any attackers.
Unfortunately, we’d all have to take our physical forms, leaving us vulnerable.
Tomas gave me a dubious glance. “You are sure you are up to this? You lost much blood last night, and the silver must be causing pain to you.”
“I’m fine,” I said in a hard voice. I turned to the men. “For now, we’re just there to get Vittore. A quick, surgical strike. Stay in the shadow dimension whenever possible. But if you see Redbone, stake him. The man’s a traitor to the Syndicate. I’m officially declaring open season on him. Any questions?”
These were professionals. There was little reaction except for a few eyes widening.
I nodded, satisfied. “Let’s do this, then.”
We split into three groups. As the first men headed across the street, I pulled Tomas aside. “There’s something you should know. Father has confirmed that the slayers are behind Zaq’s kidnapping. We have to assume they’re behind this, too.”
Tomas nodded, unsurprised.
“You knew?”
He moved his broad shoulders in a shrug. “Karoly said not to tell you, but me, I think you should know. They worked Zaquiel over.”
My stomach lurched. “Bad?”
Another shrug. “He will heal.”
“So my dad knows where he is.”
“Yes.”
“So why the hell hasn’t he busted him out? It’s been a fucking week.”
“Their security is as good as ours. Better. They allow nobody to see him but a couple of trusted people. If Karoly goes in before he’s ready and fails, they will move Zaquiel—or kill him. They may be waiting for your father to do exactly that. Then we will lose them both.”
I made a disgusted sound. “Gods.”
Logically, my father was probably right to hold off, but my gut burned at the idea of Zaq at the mercy of Slayers, Inc. The people who called us monsters and dedicated their lives to stalking us.
It should be me, damn it, not my big-hearted younger brother. The kid who brought home injured birds and motherless kittens, even when my father sneered that he was too human.
The second group left while I silently cursed my father and his methodical way of working. As the men left the cover of the trees, they faded one by one into the shadow dimension, undetectable by even another vampire, until only me and Tomas were left.
I glanced across the street at the apartment building, anxious to get going. If I couldn’t rescue my own brother, at least I could save Mila’s.
The lieutenant raised a bushy blond brow. “You understand what this means?”
“That the slayers are probably gunning for me, too? That Redbone may even be working with them? Yeah. I understand. Now, let’s get Vittore the fuck away from these bastards.”
I stalked forward, slipping into the shadows as I left the trees. The physical world became soft and slightly out of focus, like walking through a fog at twilight. At my side, Tomas faded into the gray mist. One second he was there, the next he was gone, invisible even to me.
I crossed Fifth Avenue. The humans I passed looked right through me. They couldn’t see me, and yet they moved out of my path, some primitive instinct warning them of the predator walking among them.
Tomas came out of the shadows to enter the building. He wrapped on the heavy walnut door. When the doorman opened it, he elbowed his way inside, barking, “Tell your kapitán that Lieutenant Mraz is here.”
Still in the shadows, I slipped in behind through the door before it closed.
The dhampir’s dark brows shot up. “He’s taking his day sleep, sir.”
Tomas’s smile was icy. “Wake him up.”
“Yes, sir.” The dhampir went behind the curved wood reception desk to pick up a phone. Tomas lunged over the desktop, shoving a silver dagger into his back and up into his heart. The doorman dropped to the marble floor.
While I let the rest of our men inside, Tomas coolly retrieved his dagger, wiping the blade clean on the staked dhampir’s expensive black coat before leaving with his team to search the building for Redbone and the rest of his vampire nest.
Meanwhile, I turned to the basement. The door was solid steel and locked down in three different ways, including a silver band to repel any unwary vampires. Our security expert—another dhampir—was already disabling the security pad.
A minute crawled past.
I released the catch of my switchblade.
“Come on, baby,” the dhampir muttered—and then gave a muted sound of triumph as the door swung open.
I led the way downstairs, followed by Bajoie and two dhampirs. The basement was a concrete-and-steel dungeon. No windows and just a single forty-watt bulb for illumination.
I counted six doors, three of them open. Behind two of the locked doors, I sensed vampires. My gaze locked on the third door, where the scent of human was strong.
I started toward it, then halted, nape tingling. I spun around as a man materialized on the step behind me.
Andre Redbone, gold eyes shining in the gloom.
How the fuck had he found us so quickly? He should’ve been fast asleep.
But there was no time to think about it. Redbone lunged, fangs out.
No knife or stake, and his only clothing were tight black pants.
A part of my mind registered that we’d caught him by surprise as I flung up my left arm to block him. Bajoie leapt to my aid, but I was already bringing my switchblade up with my right hand.
> “He’s mine,” I growled, and sensed rather than saw Bajoie fall back.
During our fight on the beach, Redbone had had the edge, but now the sun was fully above the horizon. Even a powerful vampire like him was slower, sleepier. This time, the playing field was even—and all things being equal, I’d put my combat skills up against a vampire’s any day.
With a feral grin, I twisted my hand and aimed an underhand blow at the unprotected spot right below his ribcage, drawing first blood. He jerked back, but not before I pressed it up toward his heart. I missed, but a dark stain bloomed on his abdomen, tinging the air with iron.
He growled and touched the wound, his confidence shaken. We eyed each other grimly. I feinted right and he lunged at me.
I was waiting. I punched the knifepoint into his chest, aiming a little to the left to pierce his heart. Blood spurted. I’d hit the widow-maker, the artery that carries fresh blood into the heart. Sever the artery, and the heart stops dead almost immediately.
But Redbone was strong. His hand clamped on mine. “Half-breed bastard.” His fangs glinted, sharp and white, in the dim light.
I thought of how he’d treated Mila—and shoved the blade deeper. “This half-breed,” I snarled, “will see you in Hades.”
His eyes glazed over, and then he slumped forward. I jerked out my blade and let him fall to the concrete.
“That was for Camila,” I said as he stared up at me, dull-eyed. “And this is for me.” I punched the blade into his chest a second time and watched as his skin blackened and began to crumble to ash.
As I cleaned the blade on Redbone’s pants, Isaac Bajoie clapped me on the back. “Nice job, sir.”
Yep, Bajoie definitely hadn’t been a fan of his kapitán.
I grunted in acknowledgment and gestured at our security expert. “Open the damn door.”
He lurched into motion. “Yes, sir.”
As soon as he had it unlocked, I ordered the others to stand back. You never knew if a trap waited on the other side.
Pursued: A Vampire Syndicate Paranormal Romance (The Vampire Syndicate Book 1) Page 17
