Caressed by the Edge of Darkness

by Amanda J. Greene

  Snapping back into action, Silvie exclaimed, “Oh, that’s right.” She’d had a vision of Gabriel and the human girl. Unfortunately, the Fates hadn’t been clear as to whether or not Jordan would survive long enough to be rescued. Her life line was fading quickly.

  She raised her gaze. Gannon was studying her now. “You’ve seen something.”

  As if on cue her pupils dilated and constricted, then dilated and shrank again as the images revealed themselves to her once more.

  “Anything I should know?” he asked, his tone sharp.

  “Take heart, knight. The female your king seeks will be there.”

  Gannon visibly relaxed, his muscles uncoiling as the tension eased. “Good.”

  She gave a nervous smile in response. It was great that Gabriel had finally located the woman, no one deserved such treatment, but Silvie knew what was to come. The “New Area,” as her uncle called it, a new beginning for not just vampires, but for shape-shifters and witches. Especially the Shaw Tribe. Their Shaman, the most powerful witch and their tribe leader, was retiring. After innumerable centuries of reincarnation, he would finally join his loved ones in the next place—provided Silvie preformed her duty.

  She would. She was determined. She wouldn’t fail him or let her tribe down. She would serve her purpose.

  With that thought, Silvie straightened her shoulders and summoned her courage. She was the Shaw High Priestess. She wouldn’t allow her emotions and desires to cloud her judgement or hold her back. It was time to face her destiny.

  “I will not be joining the Tapof Clan in Las Vegas.”

  Gannon’s brow creased. “Why?”

  Using a glamour spell, she masked her expression with calm indifference. “My uncle, our Shaman, is very ill and I’ve been summoned by my tribe. I must return. I spoke with your King earlier this evening, before the raid, and explained everything. Unfortunately, I will be unable to help with the woman you speak of or her memories.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  His earnest tone tugged at Silvie’s heart, but her magic concealed her sadness. “It is unclear but Kate will stay with your Clan as long as she is able.”

  Kate was a young priestess. She studied vigorously and had made magnificent strides, but her skills were limited. She didn’t possess power over the mind, though, in the young witch’s defense, only a handful of Shaw ever developed that gift. Kate could help with the wounded, make potions, and provide incantations. She was an asset the Tapof Clan appreciated.

  “Do you anticipate being sequestered?” Gannon asked.

  “Yes.” Silvie saw no reason not to be honest with the vampire. “When the ceremony begins, Kate will have to return to the tribe. All Shaw Priestesses must participate.”

  The Sequester was an ancient tradition. The Shaman and the tribe’s Priestesses would enter the Shaw Temple and stay until the Shaman was reborn. But this time, the Shaman would not be reincarnated. His magic and memories would transfer to Silvie.

  She cringed, imagining the madness she would soon endure. She prayed she would be strong enough to wrest control of the magic and knowledge gifted to her. A tremor of fear rattled her bones. Nothing like plunging directly into the deep end, she thought.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tonight, after I see to the soldiers.”

  Gannon’s jaw clenched. “I see.”

  “Your Clan has honored me the last four months with your open acceptance of my Tribe’s aid. The Shaw and Tapof alliance is new, but strong. And your hospitality‒”

  He shook his head, “Stop.” The word a whispered command. “You don’t have to be diplomatic with me. Just be yourself.”

  Silvie blinked in surprise then dropped her gaze once more.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Had Gannon sensed her trepidation despite her spell? “Everything is how it should be,” Silvie replied. “As the High Priestess, it is my duty—”

  His low growl vibrated the shadows surrounding them as Gannon crowded her, trapping her. His hands braced against the wall on either side of her shoulders. “My mother was a Shaw witch. I know the rules.”

  Silvie took in a deep breath, settling her rising nerves and excitement. Her glamor remained steady. “Then you know I must take my leave,” she snapped, her voice fringed with annoyance.

  He leaned in closer and she balled her fists at her sides to prevent herself from grabbing his leather jacket and pulling him against her.

  Gannon’s lips twitched with a smile. “I also know there’s something you’re not telling me and that’s fine. I understand. Just know if you’re in trouble or need help with anything, you can call me. If you need a place to crash, you don’t have to ask.”

  “Gannon‒”

  “You have to know. These last four months have been the most exciting and impactful of my life. It’s not because Gabriel has formed a new Clan. It’s not because I’m a blood-bastard, outcast turned Black Knight and King’s Second. It’s because of you.”

  “You shouldn’t say things like that,” she whispered, still unable to catch her breath.

  “Why not?” he challenged. “It’s the truth.”

  Silvie inwardly groaned. She wanted to tell him the last few months had meant nothing to her, that she didn’t have feelings for him. But she couldn’t force the words past her lips. She couldn’t lie to him.

  “The time we’ve spent together has been special and I will cherish the memories. But it’s time I return to my Tribe.”

  Lightly gripping her chin, Gannon titled her face up. His eyes burned with longing. No man had ever looked at her with such need. It made her pulse skip, her body heat, and—sweet heaven—she wished she weren’t a priestess. Silvie’s spell shattered, revealing her desire, her need, and her dark gaze silently begged him to touch her.

  “Forget about the bet and the cookies, but remember what I said, Silvie. If you need anything, I’m here.”

  Gannon softly brushed her lips with his, stifling her protest. Her breath froze in her lungs as a fire storm swept through her. His mouth was warm, his kiss firm and…it was over too quickly. He took a step back. Then another. The distance chilled her to the core.

  He drew in an unsteady breath and exhaled slowly. Need radiated from him. His eyes had turned black, his fangs extended, and his body vibrated with chained desire. The vampire wanted her as much as she wanted him. And like her, he was struggling to hold back.

  Gannon closed his eyes and shook his head hard. When he met her gaze again, all signs of his demon had vanished. Hard hazel eyes bore into her and his voice was even, calm. “On behalf of the Tapof Clan, I would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to the Shaw Tribe. We will be forever grateful for the Shaw’s willingness to aid our cause. Your services in particular, High Priestess, will be missed. Take care during your travels and, please, extend our well wishes to your Shaman.”

  Silvie choked on all the words she wanted to say as she watched Gannon turn down the hall to join the soldiers.

  ***

  Gabriel’s growl made the room tremble. His fangs sharpened. His eyes consumed by pure darkness as he watched the boathouse’s security footage. Malice rolled off him in waves. Wrath thickened the air.

  Jordan had been at the slave house that night.

  So close.

  If he and his men had arrived only minutes sooner, she’d be in his arms now.

  Instead, he was left to study the video of her incarceration. According to the time stamp, Jordan had been kept at the boathouse for two days. She’d been chained to the radiator in the Manager’s Office. The guards fed her crumbs and only gave her sips of water. Gabriel was relieved the vampires had paid her little attention. He wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her beaten…or worse.

  Using what little strength she had, Jordan fought the vampires when they came for her tonight. She kicked and swung her fists as they carried her from the office and out to a small row boat. They bound her
wrists with rope and used a bandana as a gag while they loaded her into the feeble vessel along with a handful of other captive humans. Black cloth bags were placed on all of their heads, but Jordan continued to struggle. Pride welled within his chest when she head-butted one vampire, sending him crashing into the water.

  Gabriel saw his convoy arrive an instant later. He watched his soldiers infiltrate the boathouse and usher the remaining slaves to the safety of the awaiting vans. He’d been questioning the mortals when he caught her scent.

  The breeze had carried her soft jasmine perfume. The tantalizing aroma ignited his rage and sparked his need, sending him over the edge. He saw himself turn, his beast unleashed. He barreled into battle, blades drawn.

  In the far corner of the video’s frame, he watched Jordan. Her hair violently whipped on the wind as she wrestled the guards until finally the sack was placed over her head and then…she was gone. The boat escaped across the bay. Taking her from him.

  Had Boras planned on moving his more valuable inventory tonight or had he been rushed into action after learning Gabriel’s soldiers had discovered the boathouse?

  It didn’t matter, just so long as Boras didn’t cancel the auction for the following night. Gabriel knew it was likely his last chance to rescue Jordan before she was sold to only the Graces knew who.

  After watching the video for the seventh time, Gabriel slammed the laptop closed. Barely resisting the urge to throw the computer across the room, he bit out a series of curses. Every viewing intensified his wrath and heightened the conflicting, roiling emotions within him.

  He hated feeling.

  Period.

  Cold. Distant. He was a heartless bastard. And he liked it. He knew no other way to be. Detachment equaled survival. Emotions equaled weakness.

  So why did he care what happened to the little mortal? Human slavery amongst the Outcast Society was common, the tradition that’d been kept for ages. He’d never permitted the practice within his territory, but a number of his allies kept bleeders. The mortals were willing to share their blood in exchange for pleasure, riches, and security. Gabriel intended to allow the custom of free bleeders to continue after he united the Outcasts. Not every vampire preferred to feed from a bag like he did.

  In his opinion, blood banks were one of the human’s greatest institutions.

  “Fuck,” he snarled when he noticed he’d been stroking her photo through the material of his jacket.

  Gabriel’s gaze flickered to the fire in the small hearth, its flames jumped as it rapaciously devoured the wood. He should burn the goddamn picture and forget about the mortal.

  Muttering another heated oath, he shoved to his feet and stalked to his duffle bag. He tore open the zipper and pulled out the glass flask of Silver Moon. Taking a swig of the glowing liquor, he savored the burn.

  He’d tried to destroy her photo. He’d held it over greedy fames numerous times…but he could never bring himself to let it go. How could he destroy something so beautiful? If he burned the picture, if he forgot about her, he’d destroy a truly gorgeous soul and that didn’t sit well with his conscious.

  Despite losing all those she’d loved, being passed through the system, alternating between living on the street and in foster homes, Jordan retained her kind heart and gentle manner. She’d never had anyone to protect her, to shield her from the horrors of the world and now, she was in Hell. Gabriel refused to leave her there.

  He took another drink, then slipped his hand into his breast pocket and removed the photo.

  His breath hitched in his chest, as it did every time he gazed at the picture. Jordan was looking over her shoulder, brushing aside her long, dark cherry red hair. Her violet eyes were electric. Glowing. Radiant. But, damn, the image didn’t even come close to presenting or preserving her true beauty.

  The night they’d met, he’d been struck. Gabriel had dragged Gannon to Denver to see her preform. If their intel was correct, Jordan was a wonderful signer. The plan: approach her with a record deal and take her back to Las Vegas with them. Never could he have anticipated the affect she’d have on him.

  Closing his eyes, Gabriel surrender to the memory of that night. Jordan had been mesmerizing and impeccably graceful. She held the audience enthralled, Gabriel included, as she sang and swayed to the music. He’d been in awe, utterly speechless as he’d watched her. So completely consumed by her performance he hadn’t noticed Boras’s lackeys lurking in the shadows of the bar.

  After the show, Gabriel joined her backstage. Her eyes were warm yet sharp as she studied him—the record executive looking for a rock, opera singer. Not wanting to intimidate her, he’d given her his business card and asked that she contact him. As he turned to leave, Jordan had reached out and grabbed his hand. The touch had been innocent, but it ignited his lust. She’d felt the electricity spark between them. Her luscious jasmine scent laced with desire and it took every ounce of Gabriel’s self-control to keep form shoving her against the wall and shamelessly claiming her then and there for all to see. For a moment he hadn’t cared that she was mortal, that she was so easily breakable. He’d wanted her.

  Gabriel opened his eyes and tucked the picture back in his pocket.

  He’d ignored his insane reaction to her and gone back to wait with Gannon. He should’ve stayed in the hall while she collected her things from the dressing room. He should’ve escorted her to her car. But he hadn’t done either and Boras’s men had taken her. Just like tonight at the boathouse.

  If only I’d arrived sooner. The words played again and again, a never ending loop through his mind.

  “God damn it.”

  Gabriel tossed back the flask and took a long draw. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and replaced the cap. He needed to clear his head and drinking wasn’t going to help, though it did wonders taking the edge off. His muscles relaxed and his irritating emotions had blissfully faded. He took mental inventory—analytical, cold, controlled—perfect. Focused. Normal.

  A knock sounded on the study’s door and was quickly followed by Gannon’s voice, “My king?”

  “Enter,” Gabriel called to his Second.

  Gannon stepped in and closed the door behind him. Gabriel noticed the hard lines of worry and disappoint that streaked the younger vampire’s face.

  “You’ve spoken with the High Priestess,” Gabriel observed.

  Gannon silently responded with a curt nod.

  Gabriel walked back to his desk and reclaimed his seat. “Her departure is sudden, but not unexpected. The Shaman has been ill for some time.” When Gannon remained quiet, Gabriel’s gaze dropped to his friend’s hands. Changing the subject, he asked, “Is that the map I requested?”

  “Yes. Cooper’s territory boarders the Mukwa Tribe’s.” Gannon unfolded the map and handed it to his king.

  “Has he responded to our request?”

  “Cooper has agreed to allow us use of his land. Here,” Gannon pointed to an X, “is where we’ll land and keep the jets. There is an empty cabin at the edge of the clearing we may use as a base. He said the border is roughly thirty minutes from the landing site. All-terrain vehicles will be awaiting us.”

  Gabriel reviewed the map. Gannon had circled the location of the auction house. A small lake separated Cooper’s territory from the shifter’s.

  “Have you selected the soldiers accompanying us?”

  Gannon nodded and listed off the ten vampires he’d chosen.

  “Did you make it clear that there is to be no killing on shifter territory?”

  The shifter packs remained neutral while the vampire factions battled for dominance. Spilling blood on their property was to insight war.

  “They are aware,” he stated. “I’ve spoken with the pilots, the jets will be prepared and ready to depart at sunset.”

  “Good.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair. “I’ve asked the doctor to join us,” he said, referring to the newest member of their Clan. Scott Fredrick had been a surgeon and hunter until he was
changed by a nameless vampire twelve years ago. He’d heard of Gabriel’s mission and vowed his fealty. “Scott’s expertise might be of use.”

  Gabriel knew Jordan suffered from malnutrition and dehydration, but the security footage provided no other information. There was no telling what kind of injuries she may have sustained.

  “What of Kate?” Gannon asked. “If the surgeon isn’t able to help, we could use a Shaw witch.”

  “She is a gifted healer, but her defense and attack abilities are lacking. This mission will be too dangerous to have her tagging along. She’ll return to Las Vegas with the soldiers.”

  Kate’s skills were impressive for one so young, but her magic couldn’t compare to the High Priestess. And Silvie wouldn’t be in Vegas awaiting them. She wouldn’t be available to assist Jordan and scrub her memories. A conundrum Gabriel would have to work out later. Right now, he needed to refine his plan to slip in and out of the enemy camp undetected. Zero bloodshed seemed impossible. Rescuing Jordan, an unattainable dream.

  “Kate can help us,” Gabriel mused.

  “With what?”

  “A changeling potion.” Boras would never see him coming. “Before retiring for the day, will you place the order? We’ll need enough for two people.”

  Gannon’s brow furrowed. “Only two?”

  “You and I will enter the auction house, to not raise suspicion. Traditionally, there is a viewing room where perspective bidders can get a glimpse at the merchandise before their placed on the block. The woman should be there.”

  “And if not?”

  She better be there, Gabriel finished to himself. If not…No, he wouldn’t entertain the possibility. “We’ll leave.”