by T. A. Grey
Curse him, he smiled and laughed, his eyes turning all warm and gentle. Ew. It wasn’t like he was a complete eyesore but if Grayson didn’t like him that was more than reason enough for her. Besides, he made her skin crawl. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to run far away from this predator.
“Good, no competition makes this easier.”
She snorted. “It does?”
He grinned revealing a crooked smile. It made him look slightly dashing in a rogue-pirate kind of way. And totally up to no good.
“Yes, it does. Let me buy you a drink.”
“I really don’t think so. Anyway, as you can see, I already have one.”
He guffawed, drawing several stares and making her clamp her teeth. The last thing she wanted was undo attention because of this oaf. “That’s not a real drink, babe. Let me get you one. Weber,” he called to the bartender, “get this babe something sweet and fruity. You know how they like them.”
“Yes, sir.”
There were so many things wrong with what he just said she didn’t know where to start, but as far as she saw it if this idle conversation kept him occupied enough then she could survive until Grayson came back. If he came back. Sweaty palms and armpits made it difficult to sit still. She wanted to pace, or run and scream. Instead, she had to play the part.
Eight minutes.
Where was he? What could be taking so long? The casino couldn’t be that big beyond that room, she figured. So there couldn’t be that much to investigate anyway. But the guard had grabbed him. He was caught. That’s all it was. She was trying to deny it by thinking he might have somehow foiled the guard and is now just sleuthing around the secret room. However, she was smart and she knew the likelihood of that probably was small at best.
Seven minutes.
Feverish, she scratched her arms, rolled her neck but nothing she did made her any more comfortable. A drink arrived, some pink-colored thing in a glass.
“Try it,” Kane insisted. He leaned his arm across the bar, which she had been leaning back against, effectively wrapping his arm around her waist. She leaned forward disconnecting the touch.
She took a sip to placate him. “Ah, very good,” she said, distractedly. Her eyes were glued to that door. No one had come in or gone out. Her heart pounded a furious tempo. What if he was hurt? She rubbed at the pang in her chest though it did little relieve the pain.
“So what are you doing here?”
Her eyes shot to his, big and round, and, as she knew, entirely too expression. She tried to shut it down, to school her features as Grayson had perfected over the years, but she had a feeling she wasn’t fooling Kane. That he could see right through her. Maybe it was because he wasn’t a good guy that he didn’t care that she was obviously uncomfortable and lying. This could all be a game to him.
“Just came here for a drink.” It was the first thing that came to mind. As soon as she said it she realized how stupid it sounded.
He brushed his arm against her back again as he touched her. She was already leaning as far forward in her seat as she could. Any more so, and she’d only look ridiculous and draw attention to herself. “You normally go to underground casinos for a glass of water?”
She glared but it had no effect on him. “No.”
He tossed his head back as he pretended to contemplate the matter. “Hmm, let’s see. You come all the way out here on the edge of nowhere and you’re drinking water by yourself. No gambling, no man, no woman. That says only one thing to me, babe.” He watched her intently. If he could hear her heartbeat racing right now it’d surely give her away.
Somehow she managed a smile. “What would that be since you seem to know me so well?”
Four minutes. Only four left. Beads of sweat dripped down her back from her neck in wet rivulets that tickled.
He leaned forward, his dark head coming close to her own. His eyes were intense. “It’s all about sex.”
“Sex?”
“Sex,” he repeated, his grin almost smug. “You’re looking for a man tonight. That’s why you came here. Seems like we were meant to be, babe. ’Cause I’m definitely up to the task.”
Two minutes.
She threw back the drink, the bittersweet contents burning a path to her empty stomach. It settled much as she’d expected like pouring acid on acid. She grimaced as her stomach churned at the poisonous intrusion. They called alcohol liquid courage. Tonight she’d finally find out if that was true.
“Buy me another drink.”
Kane blinked in surprise then did so. His grin was all smug now. He thought he had her in the bag.
Really, she wanted to say? You think you can say some macho crap and I’d just fall into the sack with you?
The drink came quickly. She gulped it down in two swallows, her free hand gripping her purse strap like she was on an intense roller coaster ride.
“Damn, babe. You don’t gotta get shit-faced now. I like ’em young, pretty, and willing, you know what I mean. Not puking their guts on the backseat.”
Double ew.
She checked the clock. Time was up.
Unable to make herself get up and leave him here, she stayed, adding another three minutes to the clock. When that three minutes came and went and Kane had taken to wrapping his arm around her shoulder, she finally stood.
“I have to go pee.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Okay, babe. I’ll be here. Don’t take too long now or I’ll have to come after you.” Wasn’t that a scary thought?
With a nod, she snatched her purse and made her way briskly toward the bathrooms much the same as Grayson had done. Where are you? She kept searching around the room and keeping her eye on that door. But it had yet to open again.
It was six minutes past what time she told him she’d leave. The need to withhold her promise, and more importantly, call his family and tell them what happened overcame her and she turned quickly toward the stairs. Even in full view of Kane. Shit. He saw her turning the opposite direction and his gaze narrowed and he stood. Shit!
She moved faster, her high heels sinking into the carpet with each step, slowing her down. Then, she heard it. The back door had opened. There was the distinct sound of it slamming as if the knob stuck and it had to be pushed hard to open or close. Arabella kept moving, sure that the guard would be standing there looking for her. But it wasn’t the guard she saw.
Her jaw dropped. Her knees nearly gave out with relief. He was there. Grayson stormed toward her. Instantly, she knew.
Something was very wrong.
Grayson look disheveled and he moved quickly toward her. His hair had been ruffled. Part of his white tuxedo shirt had come loose from his pants. One may look at him and people would think he’d just had a quick lay in the backroom but she knew better. Only feet away, she realized what it was.
The scent of fresh spilled blood wafted from him. Her eyes flew to his hands, and there on his palms and wrists was blood. She paled, knots twisting in her stomach with worry. Kane was closing in on her. He spotted Grayson and before suspicion could turn to recognition, she reached forward to grab Grayson’s hand and they both headed up the stairs. Even as Grayson half-dragged her up the stairs, she was distinctly aware of the wetness now touching her palm.
“What happened?” she asked when they reached the top of the stairs. She wanted to be tough, but she was scared. She was more scared than she’d ever been in her life. Her eyes were wide, frightened, her skin clammy from cold sweat.
Distractedly, he glanced down at her and seemed to realize just how scared she was. Voices called out below. It didn’t sound good.
“I’ll explain, come on.”
No more needed be said. Instead of going out the front door as she had expected, he veered them deeper into the building down a long empty hallway with a bunch of closed doors. He found one toward the back of the building and took them inside. It smelled musty and the room could use a good dusting. It looked like nothing more than a very old, un
used office. Maybe this facility had once been a real building before being bought and turned into a casino.
“What happened?” she asked, looking at his hands. “Whose blood is this?”
He snatched them away. “Not mine. Listen, I’m going to get us out of here but we can’t go out the front. They’ll already be searching for my car. They’ll be waiting there.”
She froze. “Wait, I can’t shift. You might be able to run out of here with your vampire speed, but I run barely faster than a human, Grayson.”
His eyes cut to hers. “I know. I’d never leave you.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” She knew in her heart and for many other reasons that Grayson would never leave her like that. It went completely against his morals. He stood in front of her alive and well. The past twenty or so minutes of fear seemed all for nothing. He was here and fine and acting like nothing strange had happened. This suddenly made her mad. “What happened and why are we in here?”
“They’re looking for me.”
She tried not to look freaked-out but failed miserably. “Who is they and shouldn’t we be, oh, I don’t know, leaving?”
“Keep your voice down,” he said with remarkable calm. He went to the window, a small thing that couldn’t be any more than twenty-two inches wide, and was covered in a thick layer of brown dust that had settled on it.
He’d never be able to fit through that.
“I found Jericho’s torture rooms.”
The words didn’t comprehend. She shook her head to clear it and tried again. “What was that?”
He didn’t look at her. “I found a couple of cells down below, s from the casino floor. Plenty of guards and he had a few prisoners. I had to take down one of the guards.” That explained the blood on his hands.
Chills broke out over her arms making her rub them to find warmth. “And there were torture rooms? Not that the cells don’t sound like torture enough.” She laughed unevenly at the poor joke.
“No, there was an open space made entirely out of concrete and a smaller cell attached to it. The bars are made out of silver so it doesn’t matter if he has a Were or a vampire; either way, you’re caught. Chains, shackles and old bloodstains on the floor. Not a good place to be. But no sign of the Donatos. Not even a whisper about them.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Sit tight for a few minutes and let them fan out a bit. They found the guard down while I was leaving. They’re looking for me. Don’t worry, we’re getting the hell out of here. It’s two and a quarter-miles to the next town if we head south. By time we get there, I’ll have a team waiting for us.”
“How can you be so calm about all this?” She laughed humorlessly. “How do you know they won’t catch us?”
He turned and really looked at her. His gaze flickered with something she didn’t recognize and in the next moment he crossed to her before she could make nary a peep, and pulled her into his arms. Heat wrapped around her cold body. So much heat, she shivered from it and stood in his arms like a trembling leaf as he held her. Her muscles twitched from being tense for so long. Finally in his arms she could relax. His touch coaxed that response from her.
She buried her face in his shirt. She inhaled his scent and the tension eased in her back. He rubbed soothingly up and down her back. The hard, strong wall of his chest comforted her nerves and slowly brought back her bravado.
“I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“You stayed longer than you were supposed to.”
A change occurred then. As if they’d both finally said what they’d been holding in.
His dark gaze slid to her mouth. Even as her breath caught she knew he was going to do it, and she rose on her feet to meet him. Grayson dipped his head and covered her mouth with his. They held the kiss for a suspended moment of time. It was hard and hungry, close-mouthed. Passion simmered beneath the surface like a geyser. He pulled back and she was caught up in his gaze.
“Grayson.” A whisper. A plea.
His hands squeezed her about the waist bringing their hips ever closer. “Arabella.” His voice was thick with lust. For her. He never used her nickname and only he could make her name sound exotic and beautiful.
She couldn’t believe she was seeing this side of him. This passionate Grayson that overwhelmed her and made her yearn for more. The crush she’d been harboring for so long felt like a rosebud only now blooming into something big and bold and beautiful. Oh how dangerous this was for her. To risk her heart for him. He isn’t broken, no matter what he thinks. The stakes were high of she lost the battle with him. She’d be crushed.
He cupped her breast. The daring touch took her completely by surprise. She swore her head spun for a moment. His kiss muffled the sound of her moan but did nothing to disguise it.
That’s how they were caught by the one with the Mohawk.
Mohawk stepped into the room. Guards hung with him like he/she was important.
“I didn’t think you’d come to my place, but you’ve made this so much easier.” Even the voice was a cross between masculine and feminine. No obvious gender.
“Jericho?” Grayson said, confusion thick in his voice. He pushed her behind him smoothly.
The man, yes, a man smiled. It was a resigned smile that only curled up one side of his mouth. A frightening grin.
“Put them down.”
She didn’t know what it meant but her muscles coiled ready for battle. Grayson had an entirely different response.
Moving so fast she could barely keep up, he snapped his wrists throwing two small silver blades. Jericho ‘The Butcher’ Donato, a Mohawk wearing androgynous vampire warlord, ducked missing the attack. The guard standing behind him wasn’t so lucky. He took the blades to the neck. While all this occurred in the span of two seconds or less, Grayson sprinted toward Jericho.
Completely calm and unfazed, Jericho sidestepped Grayson’s attack and stuck something against his side. The crackle of electricity snapped. Body jerking with involuntary spasms, Grayson collapsed on a groan, his body shaking with the aftermath. The sound of Grayson’s pained groan sent Arabella into a spiral of emotion she’d never felt in her entire life. A consummate rage that made her feel more animal than Were.
CHAPTER 23
Arabella had never felt the cold bonds of handcuffs in her life. The silver cuffs singed around her wrists like the devil’s handshake. Grayson marched ahead of her. She didn’t have to read the lines of tension across his back to see he was pissed, to say the least.
They were surrounded by guards with Mohawk, aka Jericho the freaking Butcher, leading the front back through the casino and toward the back room door Arabella really didn’t wish to see. As they came onto the floor, chained, dragged and scowling, it was Kane she saw inching his way closer to see. His intelligent eyes watched them closely. Well, now he knew for sure she was up to no good.
They weren’t gentle as they pushed and shoved them down a concrete staircase that went on and on. Deep below the casino. The smell hit her first. The stench of foul feces, urine, blood and filth. She gagged as her stomach convulsed in one violent pulse. Grayson looked back at her, concern warring with a thousand other emotions.
The guards dragged them down a much shorter hallway. Two prison cells lined the left and right side of the room asymmetrically. The bars were indeed made out of silver just like Grayson said. One man sat hunched in one of the cells. His hair was overgrown, he wore a ragged brown cloak, and didn’t look up at them as they were dragged in. In the front of the room she found what Grayson had described as the torture room.
A concrete, cold looking open space with a length of chain hanging from the ceiling in the center of it over a drain. A drain, how necessary, she thought morbidly, picturing all the various kinds of liquids that had spilled down that pipe over the years.
“I’ll be right back,” Jericho said and went out a door at the other end of the room. It was a utilitarian door with a level you pushed down to open like you saw
in stairwells in office buildings. Arabella eyed that door wondering if there was a way out of here through there.
What was the Plan B? Or did they even have one?
One of the guards opened a cell. It hit her all at once—an all-consuming fear. All she knew was that she couldn’t let them lock her in there. She’d never get out. She’d died there. She’d be at their mercy.
And so she screamed all holy terror. The kind of scream that called to others and notified them aptly—something very bad was happening. The guard behind her hit her in the back of the head with his gun. The heavy blow sent her sprawling into the bars hard enough to bruise. So much pain. It throbbed at the back of her skull. Wincing, she turned around, caught sight of the guard then suddenly launched herself at him. It was like she’d been taken over with an animal. One that wanted to survive.
The guard stumbled back several steps and she didn’t hesitate to lean down and bite. She might not be able to shift but god dammit she was a Were. Were bites weren’t delicate or pretty like a vampires. When they bit they bit to eat steak, not slurp a drink. So when Arabella growled a feral, cat-like sound and grabbed the guard’s hair yanking his head back, tugging down his shoulder with her other hand, and struck, she bit through his throat. Blood spurted in her mouth, meat and tendons crushed by the power of her jaw, mangling it. Swiveling her head around like a dog with a bone, she jerked back and the guard screamed much as she had before. He clutched at his neck as he dropped her like a hot potato and leapt back.
“Get her the fuck off me!” he screamed. Blood spurted between his fingers and dripped down his chin.
Someone grabbed her by the hair. That hurt—a lot. Strands tore and skin pulled. She was shoved into a cell. She spun as soon as the door slammed shut. “Let me the fuck out of here!” She reached through the bars thinking to grab one of the guards and do anything to hurt him. But one of the bigger ones stepped forward and shoved her back. Her foot slipped on a loose piece of flooring and she dropped to her ass biting her tongue in the process.
“Fucking cunt. I should rip her damn head off,” the one she’d gotten a piece of said as he stood.
