“Why did they want her?”
Michael answered this time. “From what we’ve found, they’ve been injecting our kind with their virus, creating hybrids. Until now, they’ve only taken young ones who were vulnerable. We’re not sure why they came after me and Tori.”
“My theory,” Dorian said, “is that he and Jonas gained a lot of power by taking over Castillo’s area. That was power on top of the reputation they’d already earned.”
“We’re dangerous,” Jonas interjected with a chuckle.
“Exactly.” Dorian shook his head. “Most of the leaders want rid of these two because they’re afraid they will try to take their territory, but few have the balls to try.” He glanced at Michael. “Without Grace being in danger, I would never have taken a contract on either of them.”
LeAnne appeared to digest the information and then asked, “And if these agents are so dangerous, how are we supposed to get Grace, kill them, and stop whoever is behind this?”
“If it all goes as planned, they will all be there. They’re stronger than us, but we have a chance.” A small chance, Dorian thought.
Now that he really considered how much stronger they are, he questioned the wisdom of Michael’s plan. The cosca would be outside his territory with little backup. The padrone had been convinced there was a spy within his territory, someone who was working with the agents. Maybe he was right. If he was wrong, the decision might be the one that caused it to end badly for everyone.
“Sounds like we need more guys,” LeAnne said with a little laugh.
The silence confirmed his fear. They definitely did need more muscle.
Michael sighed. “We have to go.”
Chapter Twelve
LeAnne closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the Escalade’s backseat headrest, and listened to each word vibrate through the air as Dorian spoke. The other men were loading the last of the supplies in the other car behind them, and it was the first moment she’d had to realize how different things sounded. Voices held color and texture.
“I’m amazed how well you’re doing.” Dorian’s voice was silky and rich, pervading the cabin. She could listen to him speak all night long. “You don’t seem to have any withdrawal from him.”
She turned the attention inside her. There was the hum, like electricity, at her core. She pushed at it with her mind and felt another consciousness. It was faint and vague as a watercolor picture. Still, she recognized Michael on the other end. Although she hadn’t known him long, that part of him that now lived inside her recognized itself. Despite the creepiness of having someone else in her mind, the presence of someone else on this level was also comforting. But no part of her felt the need to run to him. She was content.
Part of her wondered if Michael was doing something to keep her this calm. She was a little hungry, though the guys didn’t need to worry with that right now, and all that was happening had her a little stressed. Overall, she’d been through much worse. This, she could handle alone. No need to worry anyone else. They had plenty to be concerned with at the moment, rather than her petty emotions. After the meeting, she would get some food and rest, and everything would be better tomorrow.
LeAnne opened her eyes and smiled at Dorian. “I feel fine. Really. There’s a lot to take in, but I’m okay.”
He chuckled. “You really are amazing.”
“Not really.” She looked down at her hands. If he really knew her, he wouldn’t think she was all that amazing. “I can’t even be a good vampire. I’m a vegetarian.”
Dorian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re kidding.”
“No!” She smiled, but felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment.
“That’s perfect.” He laughed again. Then he kissed her on the forehead. “You will do fine. I promise.” Slowly, he pulled her chin up to him to make her look at him. His eyes were bright and full of concern. “I want to tell you something in case tonight goes wrong.”
“Okay.”
“One good thing has come out of this—you. In the centuries I’ve lived, I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” His face softened. “I don’t want Grace harmed, but it’s worth all the risk because I have found you. If I make it out of this tonight, you are stuck with me. I know I’ve ruined your life, but I’ll spend every moment making it right.”
LeAnne opened her mouth, but he put a finger on her lips and continued. “If I don’t make it out…stick close to Michael. He will take care of you.”
She tried again to speak, but someone opened the driver’s door. Dorian gave her a quick but soft kiss on the lips, then leaned back and wrapped an arm around her as Jonas and Michael climbed into the front seats. Jonas cranked the vehicle, started his iPod on a Five Finger Death Punch song that she recognized from Tori’s collection, and they were off.
It was miles before anyone spoke again. The men, she supposed, were thinking about the task ahead of them, but LeAnne was worried for different reasons. All the changes were starting to weigh on her. There were so many questions and so many things to straighten out, from her family to her living arrangements. On top of it all, the hunger inside her was growing at a slow but steady pace. She would have to hold it back as hard as she could until they got past this hurdle.
A phone dinged. She watched Michael move in his seat. He pulled the phone from his pocket, then looked at it. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“What?” Jonas said, glancing at him.
“It’s Tori. She knows something’s wrong. She’s panicking. I’m going to send her to the club. Elena doesn’t know, does she?”
“No.”
LeAnne listened to the clicks of the phone as Michael typed. Even though it wasn’t her fault, she felt guilty. Michael was Tori’s love. She’d been involved with this group for longer. Plus, it was understood that Michael would be the one to turn her. Now, that couldn’t happen because he’d turned LeAnne. It was very possible she might lose one of her best friends over this situation, and it made her frown.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked over to see Dorian looking at her with furrowed brows. Quietly, she said, “Tori.”
Michael sighed in the front seat. They didn’t discuss it further. She didn’t want to grow the anxiety she felt coming from Michael.
* * * *
The closer the SUV drew to the meeting spot, the more untraveled the back road looked and the higher the tension went in the dark vehicle. Twenty minutes had gone by without a word from LeAnne, the padrone, or Jonas. He’d had the time to pick through the details of the meeting for flaws. There were a few. First, Jonas driving when they were supposed to be alone might trigger a reaction. Also, he wondered how he would know they had the ringleader since he’d never laid eyes on the man. Still, these were unavoidable. Dorian wanted to text LeAnne, to check on her without the others hearing, but he needed to focus on the problem at hand.
“Here we go.” Jonas turned the Escalade left, onto a gravel road surrounded by trees.
They drove for a few moments in the dark woods. Around a sharp bend, the trees opened to an overgrown yard with a circle drive in front of a dilapidated two-story house surrounded by swampy forest. In its heyday, it must have been a mansion. Now, it looked like a wrecking ball target. LeAnne grabbed Dorian’s free hand, and he pulled her closer. The SUV crept to a stop farther away from the house than he expected. Somewhere back on the road, Blane and Gregory were parking their car and sneaking in.
“Stay in here, LeAnne,” Michael said. “If things go wrong, jump in the front and don’t let off the gas until you’re at the club. It’s programmed in the GPS. Tell Tori. She’ll know what to do.”
She didn’t argue. She was too smart for that.
Dorian leaned over and gave her a long, deep kiss. Then he pulled away, grabbed the pistol off the seat, and slid out. He closed his door quietly, crept around the back, and opened Micha
el’s, keeping a pistol full of silver rounds aimed at the back of his head. He didn’t shut Michael’s door, to give Jonas a chance to sneak out without another door shutting.
He and Michael crossed the yard with a gun at the padrone’s back. He walked into the old mansion behind Michael. His skin crawled from the three agents he could feel lurking in the darkness, but he focused on the one he plainly saw. A salt-and-pepper haired man in a white polo shirt and khakis stood in the middle of the room in the moonlight. He looked oddly fit for a man in his fifties, but then again, the dogs tended to look that way: odd.
“Where is she?” Dorian said.
The man grinned. “She’s here. I needed to be sure you brought the padrone.”
“He’s here. Now, bring her out.”
The agent sneered and took a step toward them. “You see, I don’t believe there’s any way you could possibly have brought the real Michael, of his own will, to us. Either this isn’t him, or you’ve betrayed me.”
“Not true. I simply thought of something your little brain couldn’t.”
“And that is?”
“I took a page from your notebook. His human is being held until I call to have her released.”
The agent looked genuinely surprised. “And she means this much to him? Enough that he gives his life freely for her?”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” He grabbed Michael’s shoulder, keeping the gun at his head. “Bring her out. We aren’t coming any closer until I can see Grace.”
“Come now, Dorian. You have no cards left to play. Give him to my agents.”
“Not until I see Grace.” His gut twisted the way it always did when his instincts told him a situation was about to take a nosedive. He felt out into the darkness for the agents again. They were still there. He pulled himself together, focused on the second at hand. “If I blow his head off, you lose too.”
“If you blow my head off, my cosca will rip you apart,” Michael said.
Dorian was grateful for Michael playing along. “Shut up or I’ll make that phone call.” He cracked him in the skull with the gun for effect. Darkness shifted around him then as the agents moved toward them.
“Stop them,” he said, pulling Michael back a step. “Bring out Grace or we’re gone.”
The man held up a hand, and the agents stopped. “Bring her in.”
Dorian and Michael waited in silence as an agent went out the back door. A few moments later, that agent and another brought Grace into the room. Her blond curls were matted and frizzy, and her big blue eyes were pleading. She stumbled, trying to keep up with the men’s long strides. When she finally reached a patch of moonlight, he could see her hands bound behind her. There was a fading bruise on her right cheek that must have been much worse not long ago. He growled at the sight of it, but refocused quickly.
“Now, send him over.” The gray haired man motioned toward himself.
Dorian took a deep breath and hoped Jonas, Blane, and Greg had time to find their places in the woods around the house. Then he silently prayed: God, if you still listen to me, please let this work.
Without hesitating further, he squeezed Michael’s shoulder. The signal they’d agreed upon was simple enough to be effective.
Michael launched himself toward Grace.
In the same split second Dorian leaned left and fired a shot at the agent. The bullet struck the agent in the right shoulder, launching the werewolf into a howling fit. The others reacted on cue, growling and shifting into their wolf forms, which filled the air with the crackle of magic.
Dorian heard Grace let out a scream, but he didn’t see her or Michael. He’d lost track of them in the commotion.
Sticking to the plan, he fired another shot at the agent. This one hit the dog in the gut and ripped a baseball-sized hole in the flesh. The target stumbled back and let out a loud roar.
Before the man could shift, Dorian threw himself into a run. He crashed into his target, taking him to the ground. Something cut into the flesh of his arm. He could tell it was silver. The burn radiated up his arm. Dorian yelled but stayed focused. He pumped two shots into the heart and two in the head of the ringleader of this sadistic circle jerk.
A wolf tackled Dorian and knocked him off the body. He hit the ground hard enough to hear something in his shoulder crack, but kept moving. He used his arms to launch the wolf into the wall to his right. Before it hit the ground, he fired one shot into its chest, bounded to his feet, and managed to pop two shot into its head and heart. It never moved again.
In the new silence of the room, Dorian could hear the howls and gunshots. With the immediate threat under control, he ejected the almost empty clip and slapped another into place, trying not to notice the burn crawling up his shoulder. He went straight for the doorway, gun ready, and watched for a few moments to gain insight into the fights that had erupted outside and the positions of all the players involved.
Halfway between the house and the Escalade, Michael protected Grace. He stood between her and an overgrown red wolf that snapped at them just to the left of the house. Michael was bleeding. Dorian could smell it even from thirty yards. He could also see a wound on the padrone’s chest even as he crouched and snarled at the beast.
A roar pulled his attention right. There was a fight in front of an ancient Spanish moss covered tree. Blane was there, and he tangled with a large black wolf that snapped and lunged at him. The vamp seemed to be holding his own.
In Dorian’s quick assessment, Michael’s situation seemed to be the biggest threat. Grace was in danger and possibly LeAnne. He tucked the gun into his waistband, safety on, and hurtled toward Michael. The wolf barely had time to turn his head toward him before he collided with its form. He slammed it into the ground and rolled over it, landing in a crouched position. Michael darted over, ripped a long knife out of a sheath on his waist, and chopped downward, beheading the thing in one smooth motion.
While he watched, something hit Dorian, knocking him to the ground. Teeth sunk into the flesh of his left shoulder. Bone snapped. He let out a scream and jerked the gun from his waistband. On instinct, he popped three shots in the thing’s chest. Its grip loosened.
Dorian tried to push the beast off him, but his left arm wouldn’t work. He shoved it off with his right arm and fired another shot into its skull before it hit the ground.
A boot came down, splattering the thing’s head in gush of blood and brain matter.
Dorian looked up to see Michael hold his hand out to him. He took it with his right arm and stood beside the padrone.
Grace hurried over. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll live.” She wrapped her arms around his torso and planted a big kiss on his cheek.
He winced, then scanned the yard for other threats, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. Three wolves lay dead. Only two remained. One fought Greg, who seemed to be winning until Jonas walked over and ripped its head off in one swift motion. He tossed the head into the trees and let out a dark laugh. That vampiro was every bit as frightening as the rumors he’d heard.
Blane approached the other wolf. When it knocked him to the ground, he only looked pissed. He let out a loud roar and threw his hands up at the thing, which leaned down at the same time with its mouth open wide. When his hands connected with its skin, the agent screeched and burst into flames. The fire didn’t affect Blane, who held on and hurled the flaming fur ball backward through the air. It landed on all fours, then rolled to put out the flames. Blane waited patiently. When it stopped rolling, it ran back to him. The vampiro threw up his hands again. This time, the wolf exploded in a burst of fire and blood.
“It’s a side effect of the hybrid process,” Michael said without being asked. He turned and started toward the SUV.
Dorian looked down at Grace. Her eyes were wide and full of the shock he felt. Those
hybrids were potentially a threat to both species. He could see why the agents were so keen to create ones they could control. He could also see why Tori might be an asset for them.
Dorian glanced around to see the others walking toward them. He moved from Grace’s grasp, then followed Michael and Jonas. His arm burned and ached from the wound. He cradled it to minimize the jostling as they walked up the old driveway.
Jonas dashed across the yard and caught up with him in a flash. “Wait up.”
Michael turned and yelled, “Jonas!”
His internal alarms went off as he raised his eyes, but it was too late. Dorian looked just in time to see a big grey wolf leap from the tree line onto Jonas’s back. It bit, filling the air with the smell of powerful blood. The garante crumpled in the thing’s grip. There was a haunting silence that made Dorian’s gut knot up.
He raised his gun but couldn’t get a clean shot because Michael leapt onto the wolf. Without hesitation, the padrone had the thing in a bear hug. Bones crunched. The wolf let go of Jonas and howled in pain.
Michael ripped the head off that one, too.
When the padrone moved the carcass, Jonas tried to sit up. He only moved a few inches, then let out a yell and fell back.
“Shit.” Michael leaned down and grabbed his garante’s shoulder. “I’ve got to look.”
“Fuck.” Jonas groaned. “Do it.”
He rolled Jonas onto his side. Michael and Blane eyed each other grimly.
Dorian stepped around Blane. On the other side, he saw what they’d been disheartened by. A large portion of Jonas’s lower spine was exposed and dirty. His vertebrae were visible in one spot. Nerve damage was a given.
Dorian Page 12
