pdf - Saving Jenna.PDF

by Linda Eberharter

  “It’s Baker,” he finally said. His voice was rich, melodic. Bas shot him a frustrated, questioning look. “My name,” he explained. “I’m Dr. Jordan Baker.”

  “Look, Doc,” Bas snapped, “It doesn’t matter in the least to me what you’re called.

  My Blood Sister doesn’t want you dead. That means you’re coming with us.” Jordan raised a startled eyebrow at Bas’s claiming of Jenna, but almost immediately his face smoothed out, slipping back into his previous blankness.

  “While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not going anywhere.” The doctor dropped his gaze, and Bas couldn’t help but notice how the light picked amber highlights out in his deep brown hair. “I assume you’re here for Rowan,” he added, some emotion finally entering his voice. Somehow the urgency didn’t comfort Bas. “You have to get her out now. I don’t think she’ll survive another beating. Save her, Vampire. I’m not your problem.”

  Bas’s stomach knotted into a mass of confusion. This stranger sat, head bowed, lines of pain adding years of fatigue to his striking face. It just didn’t make any sense. The man wore a lab coat; clearly he worked in this house of torture. So why did he look as if he would welcome death?

  “You’re wasting my time,” Bas growled, pushing all the turmoil this man stirred up in him aside. “Jenna wants you. I won’t even pretend to understand why,” which was a lie, he realized. Dr. Jordan Baker stirred up feelings in Bas that were unfamiliar and unwelcome. “But she does, so shut the fuck up and let’s go already.” Jordan met his eyes briefly, and Bas found himself lost in their fathomless black depths. “Jenna is a good person,” he murmured, “a pure soul. She can find it in her heart to forgive even me.”

  When the doctor stood, Bas automatically leveled his weapon at the man, aiming for his heart. Instead of the fear he expected, Jordan’s eyes almost glowed, radiating a peace that brought Bas’s confusion and anger back in a heartbeat.

  By the time the other man stood in front of him, Bas’s confused emotions were nearing the boiling point. He’d dropped the gun back to his side, but now Jordan reached out, wrapping his hand over Bas’s on the grip. Perhaps he should have been alarmed, or at least on his guard, but at the other man’s touch a jolt of electricity shot through Bas until there was nothing but the feel of this stranger’s flesh, his clean, spicy scent, the darkness in his eyes.

  Jordan pulled the gun back up, placing the barrel under his jaw. “Do us both a favor, Vampire, and just kill me now.” Those black eyes held all the seething agony of the pits of hell. “I’m every bit as much a monster as William Stone, and despite Jenna’s willingness to forgive me, there’s nothing here worth salvaging.” Jordan wore his despair like a blanket. His pain was a living, breathing thing, and Bas became lost in it, entranced by it. Most humans held on to their fleeting lives with clutching hands, meeting death kicking and screaming. Not this man with his warm, steady touch and his tormented eyes. Again, Bas lowered his gun.

  “Please,” Jordan reached out to close both hands over Bas’s on the gun. “I’m so fucking tired.” He dropped to his knees at Bas’s feet, and the Vampire was flooded with an unwanted montage of images, Jordan naked at his feet, feeding his thick cock into the doctor’s smiling mouth, the curve of his spine as Bas took him from behind.

  “Jesus,” Bas stepped back, away from temptation.

  “I’m tired,” the doctor repeated, still holding Bas’s hand, gun pressed to his forehead. “Tired and sick and too fucking cowardly to end it myself.” Bas shook his head, pulling his hand free. He knew he should do it. Jenna’s pleas aside, he didn’t know this man, couldn’t trust him. And yet something about this man called to him. A longing, a loneliness that Sebastian understood only to well.

  When Bas made no move to harm the man, simply stood watching him, the doctor opened his eyes.

  “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

  “Jordan Baker,” he spoke slowly, tasting the name in his mouth. “I have no intention of killing you. Jenna has asked for your life, and I’ll not deny her.” Jordan’s eyes went savage as he lunged for Bas’s gun. In less time than it took to plan the motion, Bas had him flattened on the floor, pinned by the arm he’d dragged up behind the other man’s back.

  The doctor fought hard, throwing elbows and grunting out obscenities until it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. And with every thrash, Bas cursed himself as his cock went painfully hard between one breath and the next.

  Finally, Jordan stopped his struggling, and twisted his head to meet Bas’s eyes. Bas’s gaze went stormy, every particle of his being focused in on the awareness in Jordan’s eyes. Something passed between them in that instant, an understanding beyond words or logic.

  “I will not kill you,” Bas emphasized, unconsciously pressing harder into Jordan’s body, pressing his cock into the hard curve of his ass. “Do not ask it of me.” Because I couldn’t do it.

  “I can’t go with you,” the other man muttered without taking his eyes from Bas’s. “If you won’t fucking kill me, then you’d better get back to your friends. There is no way William Stone will sit back and lose one of his daughters, let alone two of them.” His words and some shadow that moved under the surface of his gaze put Bas on red alert. He pushed up to his knees, grabbing the back of Jordan’s lab coat to jerk him upright as well.

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing concrete, but the guards talk, and I’m pretty invisible here. There’s a rumor that Stone has a plan to get his daughter back.”

  Bas ran the probabilities through his head. “Fuck,” the ease of their infiltration of the compound suddenly made sense. “It’s a trap.”

  They were walking right into Stone’s hands. Bas lunged to his feet, and was halfway out the door before the doctor steadied himself on his wide-spread knees. He hesitated for a second, torn by his need to take this man with him, and his need to get to his friends.

  Jordan knelt, head down, and spoke. “Just go, Vampire. There’s nothing anyone can do to save me.” When Bas hesitated a second longer, sweeping his eyes one last time over the doctor’s lean body, Jordan looked up with blazing eyes and yelled, “Get the fuck out of here!”

  It felt, irrationally, like ripping out his own heart, but Bas turned and darted into the hallway. He was greeted by gunfire and Jenna’s panicked scream, but all he could see was a pair of burning black eyes.

  *

  “Fuck,” Nic roared as all hell broke loose. They were surrounded, guards pouring into the hallway from all directions. And they were wearing gas masks.

  Before he had time to make sense of what he was seeing, Nic was choking on the thick, white smoke that filled the hallway. His eyes streamed with the acrid burn, and he turned to see Jenna cover her mouth with one arm, fighting for untainted air.

  He swept his arm back, flattening her against the wall as a gas-mask wearing soldier came after her from behind. The soldier’s lunge carried him past Jenna and straight into Nic’s arms. The man’s neck snapped surprisingly easily. Nic grabbed the mask off the dead man and placed it on Jenna’s face.

  Aidan’s battle cry filled the hallway, and Nic braced for the inevitable electrical storm that followed when the Dragon took on his fighting form, but it never came.

  Pressing his back against Jenna, who was flattened against the wall, he aimed and fired off six quick shots, dropping four men and wounding two others. Jenna’s hand dug into his waist, and he had a flash of remorse that she would see him like this, as a killer.

  Then he turned his head for a brief glimpse of her face, his breath backed up in his chest. She was fierce, white face and blazing eyes, the deadly little handgun braced on his shoulder as she took aim, downing another of the guards.

  His warrior woman. Fuck, he was as hard as a rock.

  “What the hell happened?” Bas shouted, sliding up next to him, gun drawn.

  “Trap,” he snarled back. “I can’t find Aidan. I can’t see a Goddamn thing.” The smoke was an effective screen,
hobbling Bas’s men and shielding Stone’s.

  “Where’s Jordan, Bas?” Jenna popped her head around Nic’s shoulder to pin worried eyes on Bas.

  “Sorry, pretty One.” Bas didn’t look up as he answered, just kept steadily picking off one after another of Stone’s men. “He respectfully declined your invitation.” He missed a shot and swore harshly.

  “You didn’t hurt him?” Jenna’s urgency was clear. Bas shot her a sizzling look, and in spite of the situation, Nic raised an eyebrow at the exchange.

  “No, Sister-mine. I left him in the same shape I found him.” Bas frowned and resumed his systematic massacre of Stone’s soldiers. “He’s dying all right,” he muttered softly, “but not by my hand.”

  This was a topic that Nic definitely wanted to pursue, but at another time. Right now he had his hands full as another of Stone’s men reached him, catching him in the face with his rifle butt.

  The impact knocked Nic away from Jenna, and he hit the floor. Before he could rise, there was a popping sound and the giant guard fell on him, limp, knocking the breath out of him.

  The impact dazed him enough that it took a second for the pain to register.

  He tried to catch his breath, and heard a low gurgling sound. Fuck it all, something was lodged in his chest. He clawed the guard off him, and as the body fell with a limp thud to the floor, Nic wrapped shaking fingers around the stake that was wedged between his ribs. As his dying act, the guard had propelled the stake into Nic’s chest with his falling body. The weapon had missed his heart, but the ominous sucking sound warned him that it had punctured his lung.

  The weapon burned in his hand, and he forced his eyes to focus on it. Not wood, something else. Something that tilted the world and turned the blood to fire in his veins.

  He reached behind himself, clawing with his free hand for the wall. He needed to get to Jenna. Before he could do more than drag himself to his knees, he was face to face with another of Stone’s soldiers. Another big, hybrid bastard.

  The man smiled, his eyes bright with malice and insanity. He held another of the odd stakes, and wagged it at Nic mockingly.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “It’s a fucking stake, you stereotypical bastard,” Nic snarled. He had a second of satisfaction as the man’s smile twisted into a look of utter rage, then the stake was pressed up against his ribs on the opposite side from the first.

  “Oh,” the soldier crowed, “it’s not just any stake. This is one of Mr. Stone’s new toys.” The sharp end of the weapon dragged over Nic’s torso, slicing through his shirt and tracing a line of agonizing fire across his skin.

  “No, Vampire scum, this stake is an alloy of pure silver and several other minerals designed to burn you up from the inside out.” He poked Nic teasingly. “See, your blood corrodes the metal shell, and pretty soon, whoosh! The yummy liquid silver center is flowing through your veins.” Seemingly oblivious to the fighting going on around them, the soldier carefully positioned the stake against Nic’s chest, lining it up to meet its mate at a right angle. With a homicidal grin, he thrust it between Nic’s ribs.

  “You’re gonna die slowly, Vampire. And painfully.” He leaned over and whispered into Nic’s ear. “And while you’re burning away to ash, I’m gonna be fucking that traitorous cow Stone calls a daughter.”

  The stake slid through muscle and between bones, puncturing Nic’s other lung, and sending a screaming song of pain through him.

  Time stopped for a moment, there was nothing but pain. Then with a roar of sound, the world started back up. The sadistic bastard crouched over him was laughing, and then he wasn’t. A tiny hole bloomed in the man’s forehead, and he toppled almost gracefully to the floor, landing on his fellow Vampire slayer. Jenna stood over him, gun pointed at the fallen guard with braced arms, eyes glassy with terror.

  Blackness beckoned, but Nic refused to close his eyes. He didn’t want to die; not now, and not like this. Not in this madman’s house of horrors as his One looked on helplessly.

  He tried to say her name, but the words choked off in a fountain of blood. Not enough time. Never enough time… The world went dark.

  *

  Jenna was oblivious as the gun dropped from her numb fingers. She ripped off her gas mask and flung it to the floor, blind to anything but Nic, lying cold and still at her feet.

  “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” she chanted as she skidded to her knees beside him.

  “Don’t you dare die,” she growled, knotting her hand in his hair.

  There was so much blood pouring from around the stakes, pooling under him. And it was so dark, almost scorched looking.

  She stared at his chest, willing it to move, to give some sign that he was still breathing, still alive. Finally she detected movement, a slight, shallow breath. Pause.

  Another, shallower breath.

  Jenna, Beloved, she could almost hear him. Go to Bas; let him take care of you.

  “To hell with that, Nic Alero!” She ripped off her sweatshirt and wadded it around the stakes, trying to staunch the blood flow. “Nobody’s taking care of me except for you!

  If you don’t want me to spend the rest of my life alone and miserable, then you’d better not give up on me, dammit.”

  The sweatshirt was already wet under her hand, soaking up each drop of life that flowed from Nic.

  “Sebastian,” she screamed, praying he could find her through the din of bullets and choking smoke.

  She crouched over Nic, feeling his life seep between her fingers, and searched the haze for Bas. When he appeared, he looked like an avenging angel, his long leather trench coat rippling behind him. He was a dark warrior coming to their rescue.

  “Oh, Christ,” he bent down and examined Nic’s wounds, then looked up at Jenna.

  “This is really bad, pretty One. We need to get him the hell out of here.”

  “He’s going to be all right, Bas. Please tell me he’s going to be all right.” Bas grappled with Nic’s limp body, hoisting it over his shoulder in a reverse fireman’s carry.

  “He will if I have anything to say about it.”

  *

  “Man down, let’s roll,” Bas yelled into the grey haze. There was a fury of gunfire behind them and one of the Wolves ran past Bas and Jenna, taking up the lead position.

  Handing her his gun, Bas pulled Jenna along by the arm and they ran up the stairs.

  They rounded the corner and almost flattened Jordan, who was once again standing in the hallway.

  The Wolf, Abel, growled viciously, raising his gun, and Jenna cried out, “No, don’t shoot him!”

  Bas couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jordan as the doctor grabbed her hand.

  Shooting a quick glance at the soldiers who’d escaped, Jordan muttered, “Follow me,” and ran down the hallway, pulling Jenna along with him. Shifting Nic on his shoulder, Bas followed.

  Jordan ran back the way they’d come, making a sharp right turn into a camouflaged doorway. Jenna was panting, fighting gamely to keep up.

  “Where are we?” she gasped when Jordan paused to work a combination lock on a heavy steel door.

  “Your father has done a lot of construction down here. New and improved lab space and cells. Secret tunnels and escape routes.” The lock clicked, and Jordan leaned into the door, forcing it open just enough for the fugitives to squeeze through. “This tunnel lets out just inside the front gate. I’ll set the alarm from inside, give you about five minutes to get off the property.”

  “Why the fuck should we trust one of Stone’s men?” Abel growled.

  “You shouldn’t,” Jordan answered. “But I’ve never betrayed Jenna or Rowan, and I’m not betraying you now.”

  “Enough,” Bas said shortly when the Wolf would have argued. “Nic doesn’t have time for this debate. Let’s move.” He pushed past Abel, and began herding Jenna through the door with his body. Before they passed through the opening, Jordan reached out and touched her cheek.

  “You didn’t get to
Rowan, did you?” The grief in his eyes showed he knew full well what that meant. Jenna shook her head, unable to speak.

  “I’ll do what I can for her,” he promised, and some of the suicidal fury subsided in his eyes.

  “Let’s move, pretty One,” Bas broke in. He couldn’t tolerate Jordan’s hand on her cheek, the obvious affection between the two of them. Once Jenna was in the passageway, he stopped and met the doctor’s eyes one last time.

  “Come with us.” The words burst out without his permission. He ached to touch the doctor’s face the way the man had touched Jenna’s. The sad tilt of Jordan’s smile and the bleak light in his eyes told Bas that the doctor knew. Maybe even felt it, too.

  “I can’t go,” he replied softly. “Even if it had been a possibility before, I can’t leave Rowan here without any allies.”

  “You aren’t safe here,” Bas tried one more time. “Don’t make me leave you behind.” He was oblivious to everything but Nic’s weight on his shoulder and the burning depths of Jordan’s eyes, so he didn’t see the significant look that flashed between the Wolves, or Jenna’s slowly dawning comprehension.

  “I’m a dead man already, no matter where I am,” Jordan answered in that same quiet voice. He reached out, tapped a series of keys on the alarm pad, and shook his head.

  “You’ve got five minutes to get off the property.” He looked at Jenna, standing pale and mute in the tunnel. “Take care of her,” he said, and with a last, lingering look he turned and ran.

  The Wolves slipped into the tunnel, Kane taking the lead and Abel bringing up the rear. He pulled the door closed behind them with a soft clunk, and they began their race through the dark, never slowing until they made their way up the steps and into the clear night air.

  Chapter Eleven

  The ride back to the penthouse passed in a blur of trees streaking the dark outside the windows, Bas yelling into his phone, calling for as many blood donors as could be rounded up and for Elena to meet them. At some point one of the Wolves had pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around Jenna’s blood-streaked body. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she was clad only in her jeans, her bra, and her lover’s blood.