by Jessica Lee
“I’m on it,” Arran replied, made a one-eighty, and pointed their vehicle toward the Autobahn.
“I’ve missed you.” Kenric’s words drifted into the forward compartment. Arran did his best to tune the other male out and focus on the road.
“Me too,” Emily whispered. “We definitely need to talk—among other things—when we get to our room.”
The leather squeaked, and the car rocked. Out of the corner of his eye, Arran caught Kenric’s image in the mirror, his large frame covering Emily’s, their mouths locked.
Shit. Arran repositioned in his seat. This was going to be one long-ass ride.
“Christ, wildflower…,” Kenric growled. “You smell delicious, and I’m damn hungry.”
Arran’s fangs surged through his gums at the sound. “All right, you guys. Hang on. Don’t forget you’ve got company up here with really good hearing.”
A throaty chuckle exited Kenric, and he rolled back onto his side of the car. “Point taken.”
“Yes. Besides…” Emily readjusted her clothing. “You and I”—she looked pointedly at Kenric—“still need to have a long talk.” Arran had never been more happy to not have an invite to that particular conversation.
They made it back to the hotel in record time. Thank God. Being the only male on this side of the Atlantic without his mate was growing more difficult by the minute.
Inside their suite, Kenric and Emily excused themselves and headed to their room on the opposite side of the living space. Arran aimed for his private space. But it wasn’t quite far enough. Even with the distance between them and two sets of walls, Arran couldn’t help but overhear some of their heated exchange. Emily couldn’t understand why Kenric had left the country without sharing what he’d learned with his mate. She’d never felt more hurt. He’d left her out of the loop on something that was going to affect both their lives.
The shit was gut-wrenching, and Arran couldn’t take the pain in Emily’s voice another minute. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV for some noise cancellation. After shooting Gabrielle a text message informing her Emily had arrived and sending her his love, Arran opened the patio doors to his room and stepped outside. He needed the air to clear his head.
Finding Eve was next on the agenda. If they found her, they were one step closer to locating Guerin. But where the hell to start looking? She could be anywhere in Europe. His cell buzzed in his hand with Gabrielle’s reply. He smiled at the x’s and o’s his mate always added to the end of her messages. The cell…of course.
Eve’s cell number. It was how they’d tracked her down in the first place. Through the chaos of Guerin’s kidnapping, he’d almost forgotten about that small detail. But would she still have kept her phone? Could they be that lucky?
An hour later, Emily and Kenric emerged, the master’s color looking better than earlier. A pang of hunger arrowed through Arran’s midsection. He would have to take care of his own growing need for a meal before long.
“You’ve filled Emily in on our current situation?”
The couple shared a glance, and Kenric replied. “She knows everything.”
“I was thinking,” Arran began. “We still have Eve’s last known cell number. What do you think of texting her and seeing if you could get her to talk to you? She could ignore your call or delete your voice mail, but maybe we’d get lucky and she’d read your message.”
“Good point,” Kenric said.
“Based on what had gone down inside her apartment before we arrived, she’d liked Guerin at one point. Maybe for his sake, she’d risk a meeting with us to save him.”
“That’s if she hasn’t ditched the phone.” Kenric retrieved his cell from the nearby table.
“It’s worth a try at least,” Emily chimed in. “I can’t imagine what Guerin’s going through, and I’m not even thinking worst-case scenario.”
Kenric eased onto the edge of a sofa cushion, staring at the screen of his iPhone. “Now to find the perfect words so Eve won’t ignore us…”
…
The sun had to be down by now based on the fact that some of the lethargy had left Guerin’s body. But it didn’t do a damn thing for the ache building in his joints and muscles from standing chained to a wall for more hours than he’d care to count. Nor did it help stabilize what little skin remained around his wrists where the silver continued to slowly fry his flesh. But hey, beggars couldn’t be choosy, as they say. At least he felt more alert to enjoy it all.
“Well, well, well…” A female voice drifted across the room. A voice that had every hair on Guerin’s body lifting. His stomach roiled, and an icy chill skated down his back. Son of a bitch.
And just when he was trying to see the bright side.
But if Daniela De Santis was involved, things couldn’t be more dark. Desperation—powerlessness…hell, both threatened to choke him until he blew a lung. Dear God. There was no way in hell he could allow Eve anywhere near him. Not with Daniela wanting a piece of her.
Guerin straightened his spine and tamped down his emotions when it came to Eve. He dared not let Daniela see him flinch. If so, she would pounce on his weakness like a cat chasing a laser light beam. He narrowed his gaze in the direction of the sound although the spotlight continued to glare into his retinas, blinding him to anything beyond.
“I was highly annoyed to learn our minions had failed once again to bring me the hybrid. But imagine my surprise when Seth told me the name of our guest they’d returned with instead. Guerino Lombardi…”
The overhead lights switched on, stabbing their rays into the back of his eyeballs. Guerin blinked under the intensity, attempting to focus.
“It’s been such a very, very long time.” The spotlight’s beam died, and the female stepped in front of Guerin.
“Not nearly long enough, Daniela. But I’m not surprised you’re involved in something so vile.”
“You sound bitter, pet.” Daniela closed in and stroked the back of two fingers along Guerin’s cheek. Reflex had him twisting his head away from her touch. She tsked. “And here I thought the years we’d shared had been so memorable.”
“I can’t deny that,” Guerin scoffed. “More than two centuries and an ocean between us have yet to sufficiently incinerate you from my brain cells.”
Daniela laughed, but quickly sobered as if she’d never heard the joke. “What a sweet thing to say.” She smiled. “But you always were a sentimental male.” Daniela reached over and plucked a long, smooth length of cane from a rack. “Remember this, pet?” She ran her fingertips over the surface.
“How could I forget?” Guerin said, pressing the back of his head against the stone behind him. “You introduced it to me many times across my back, my ass, and…other places.”
A wicked grin curled her red lips. “Yes. I did.” Daniela slid the end of the pole along the inside of his leg, dragging the tip higher over the thin cotton of his sweats.
“What do you want, Daniela?” Guerin gritted his teeth. For years, her attention had heated his blood. He’d lived to endure her games—to please her. Hell, he’d given up the sun for the opportunity to be with her forever. But now… Now, he could barely stomach her caress even through a six-inch piece of wood.
The tip of her cane nudged the length of his shaft, and her nostrils flared. “I can smell her on you.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Oh, how I remember the intensity of your tastes, pet. Was she able to get you off as easily as I could?”
“Despite how strongly you believe in your own inflated ego, you’re not that unique, Daniela.”
Her eyes flashed, but quickly cooled. “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood. I’m willing to overlook that remark and your past failures. Perhaps if you’re nice, I might even give you another chance.”
What?
“You’re offering to forgive me?” The words barely exited his throat without the contents of his stomach.
“That’s right.” Daniela circled his groin with the cane. “Once we ha
ve the hybrid, you can come home again, pet.” She looked up, her pupils devouring the white space of her eyes. “Everything could be as you remembered. You, me…” With her other hand, Daniela seized his nipple between her index finger and thumb and twisted. “All the games we played.” Instead of turning him on, the zing went straight to his head, pissing him off. A surge of what he could only describe as satisfaction rolled through his core with his response. Whatever spell she’d cast over him years ago was broken.
“Too funny, Daniela. But I’m like the toy you buried in your bin and forgot. Now that someone else has played with it, you’re getting all possessive and want it back.” He cocked his head. “I don’t need, or want, your forgiveness,” he growled. “You can go to hell.”
Her lip curled, exposing a twin set of fangs right before her palm connected with the side of his face with a hard smack. Stars whirled in front of his eyes, and it had nothing to do with his favorite spotlight. Well, Daniela certainly hadn’t lost her touch. Guerin licked away the coppery taste of blood from the corner of his mouth and straightened.
“Feel better?” He lifted a brow.
“Not yet,” she said, tossing him a sadistic curl of her lip. “But I’m about to.” Daniela swung her arm back with the cane in her grip, then forward, aiming between his spread legs. The long tip struck his cock and balls with a hard whack.
Guerin’s jewels made a leap for his gut, punching the air from his lungs. His knees threatened to cave. But secured to the cross, he had nowhere to go. Guerin clamped down on his eyelids and fists, calling for every ounce of what was left of his endurance.
Fuck. Me.
His day had just made a hard turn in the direction of this is gonna suck.
Chapter Seventeen
Twenty kilometers outside of Nuremberg, Eve paced the small confines of the cheap room she’d rented in the local gasthaus. If her indecision kept up much longer, she was going to have to pay the owners for new carpet. But damn, she was so confused.
Her head hurt from sifting through all the new versus old information. Who was right and who was wrong? Did her father hate her—want her dead as he had her mother? Or was her dream real, and he had had no clue about her existence?
Eve wasn’t sure she’d ever forget the look in Kenric’s eyes when she’d held him against the wall, her knife at his throat. He’d appeared stunned. Yet instead of lashing out in self-defense, he’d seemed fascinated with her presence, even though she’d threatened to kill him where he stood. Not what she’d expected from her first meeting with a father who was a master and leader of a group of warrior vampires. And a male who her mother had sworn despised them both.
A fact Marguerite Devonshire had ingrained onto Eve’s spirit since the day she’d been born.
The Enclave’s master was either a damn good actor, or he’d been telling the truth.
“Why would you do that to me, Mother?” Had she been so selfish, wanting desperately to keep Eve all to herself, that she would convince her daughter that her father never wanted her? The idea made Eve sick.
God, she’d never been so conflicted and unsure of her judgment. A part of her insisted, stick to what you know. It’s kept you alive this long. Mother could not have been all bad or wrong. But her other half wanted to run back to Nuremberg, take that leap of faith, and find the members of the Enclave. Yet would Guerin even want to see her face again after Seth’s minions had drugged him and hauled him off? Her head knew Kenric and Arran had gone after Guerin, gotten him back. Yet her heart still ached from the memory of their attack.
Everything about her and Guerin had happened so fast.
They’d gone from zero to a hundred in a matter of days. But the connection she’d shared with Lombardi was something she’d never experienced—ever.
Then it had all gone to hell.
But that didn’t mean it had hurt any less when it was over. Eve massaged her sternum and the dull ache that refused to let her go.
Stabbing pain radiated through Eve’s abdomen and up her spine, bending her in half. “Damn!” She gasped. What was wrong with her? The intensity brought Eve to her knees, and she fell forward onto her palms. Inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth, Eve tried to hang on and ride out the wave.
A lash of fire bloomed across her back. She cried out and collapsed onto the carpet. Then another wave of flames singed her spine. Eve blinked away the dark spots in her vision and groaned. It was as if she were being flogged with strips of burning leather.
Guerin.
“Oh, God. No… Guerin…” Eve rolled to her side and grasped for purchase along the bedrails. Her body trembled under the continued onslaught as she pushed herself up onto her knees. “No!” she cried out. “Damn you, Kenric! You were supposed to have gotten to him in time.” She choked back the tears, rage at the Enclave’s master’s failure seething under her skin, but it was her own failure to save Guerin, when she’d had the chance, that consumed her.
Guerin and Eve were both vampires of more than two centuries. Powerful beings who’d shared blood equally over the last forty-eight hours. As a result, they’d formed a temporary link between their minds. Not only were they able to track each other, communicate telepathically over short distances, but they could sense any significant traumatic or emotional distress of the other as well. Having felt nothing through their link all this time, Eve had been lulled into a false sense of security. She believed Kenric and Arran had gotten to him in time.
Damn! She had to reinforce the walls around her mind. Had to be able to think. If she didn’t, she would be worthless.
Eve fell over the side of the mattress and tumbled face-first onto the sheets. Searing pain clawed its way along her back like a rack of hot nails trying to peel her flesh open.
“Guerin!” Dear God, how could he bear it? This agony wasn’t meant for sexual submission, a blend of pain and pleasure. This was a brutal attack meant to break him physically and mentally—if it didn’t kill him first.
And it was all her fault.
Pull it together, Devonshire. Pull yourself together. He needs you.
Gripping the sides of her head with her palms, Eve closed her eyes.
Breathe. Breathe.
Her hands were the walls surrounding her brain. Picturing the physical barrier inside her head, Eve pushed past the attack on her nerve endings. Flesh became stone. Concrete blocks stacking one upon the other, growing thicker and thicker, formed an impenetrable barrier around her mind. That’s it.
Slowly, she crawled her fingers away from her skull and twisted them in the sheets—waiting—testing the seal for leaks.
The assault had eased. The connection between her and Guerin had dimmed to a point where Eve could lift her head.
A ding sounded from the bedside table, drawing her attention. Someone had sent her a text. But who the hell had her number besides Ingrid from the club? Eve snatched the phone and stared at the display. Her pulse stuttered at the words.
Guerin’s in trouble. You’re our only hope if we’re going to get him back. I know there’s no reason why you’d ever want to help me. But can you do this for Guerin? He needs you. We need you, Eve. No trap. Please… Kenric.
Oh, shit! Her mind whirled. Too many years of thinking of her father as the enemy had her leery as hell. But could she enter the heart of Seth’s operation and rescue Guerin on her own? Probably not. It would be a suicide mission.
No one deserved to spend any amount of time inside Seth’s colony as an unwelcome guest. She’d heard the stories of those who had never returned because of some perceived betrayal. Eve lived most of her days as a human, but it didn’t mean she didn’t lurk as a vampire on occasion, with her ear to ground. She had to, or end up in a master’s torture chamber where Eve was sure they’d attempt to breed her…or dissect her if she failed to produce. Her ability to walk in daylight and the origins of her birth were too much of a temptation for those greedy for more power.
She studied the message once more. If sh
e was true to herself, wasn’t this the opportunity she’d secretly hoped for? One more chance to meet the Enclave’s master on her own terms, not some sneak attack like their last encounter? This time, she would be better prepared. Guerin needed her, and Eve needed this—to find out once and for all what had happened between Kenric and Marguerite.
Eve tapped out a short reply:
Where do you want to meet?
And hit send.
Quick and simple.
One sentence.
Yet somehow she knew everyone’s life, including hers, had just been changed.
…
Eve was very familiar with the hotel where Kenric and the other member of his team were staying. She’d driven past it many times. A six-story complex in the center of town. They were staying in suite 601. Yet she had no intention of using the door.
The view was spectacular from the roof. If one didn’t mind the cold wind lifting your hair and crawling its icy fingers down your neck. Eve shivered and tugged the collar of her leather jacket higher.
Climbing up on the lip of the tower, she stared down at the row of balconies, their concrete slabs and metal railings jutting out from the white face of the building’s exterior. She slid the toe of her boot over the edge, giving her stomach a hard flip. Her breath hitched. God, she didn’t like high places even though she had the power to phase and never hit the ground. The human side of her spirit still rebelled at the whole idea of taking that first big step.
She could have phased up, but where was the excitement in that? Besides, she would have missed out on the view, and selecting the correct balcony was much easier starting from the top. Kenric’s suite sat only one floor below.
Closing her eyes, Eve pictured the image of where she wanted to go and sent her body on the trip. Solid ground evaporated from beneath her feet, and she was flying. Except there were no wings. More like the dizzying rush of a roller-coaster ride minus the sights and the sounds. Bit by bit, she coalesced outside on the balcony and gazed through the window at the occupants inside. No one would spot her there unless she wanted them to. She’d made sure to keep her body in its ethereal form, a ghost-like mist giving her enough functions to covertly observe.
