by Nina Croft
Instead, she stood at Torr’s side and watched in silence as the helicopter came to hover over them, and then moved off to land a little way down the beach. As the sand settled, she could make out Cade sitting in the pilot’s seat. He was alone.
Torr squeezed her hand. “Before, when you tried to get through the wall, you were almost there. Hold onto that.”
She frowned and then realized he was speaking about earlier, when she had tried to break down her inner wall. Closing her eyes, she saw the wall was still standing, damaged but intact. A mixture of relief and regret washed through her. She was safe for a while longer. Then something else occurred to her; the wall wouldn’t have kept her safe from whatever it was that came out of the darkness. The wall could only protect her from herself.
Cade jumped down. Ducking beneath the still whirring blades, he ran toward them. He was grinning when he reached them. To Bella’s surprise, he hugged Torr, punching him on the shoulder. While Torr had been sure about Cade, the other man had not been so sure Torr would survive. He stepped back. “Was that—”
“Yes,” Torr interrupted before he could finish the question.
“Shit,” Cade said. “How did they find you so fast?”
“Most likely they knew we’d be in the area.”
“Which means…?” He glanced at Bella and cut off the sentence.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Torr said.
No doubt, when she wasn’t around to listen in. Bella considered insisting they talk about it now, but a wave of exhaustion washed over her and she swayed against Torr. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
Cade turned to her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Where’s Phoebe?”
“She’s fine. I left her at the house in Mexico City.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll let her know I’ve found you then we can head off.”
He punched in a number and murmured a few words, a smile spreading across his face. Slipping the phone back in his pocket, he turned to them. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
He turned back to the helicopter, and Bella suddenly realized they expected her to get in that thing and actually leave the ground again. She was so not ready for this, but in some ways, the fear that gripped her came as a relief.
Here was something real and physical she could legitimately panic about. She dug her toes into the sand.
“No way.”
Cade looked at her in surprise. “What’s the problem?”
“What’s the goddamn problem? I was just in a plane crash. That’s what the problem is. I thought I was going to die.”
He shrugged, a frown forming on his face. “But you didn’t.”
Bella turned to glare at Torr. “Tell him,” she said. “Explain to him that my feet are not leaving the ground in the foreseeable future. If ever.”
“You want to stay here?” Cade asked in such a reasonable voice that she knew he was humoring her.
The moon had risen now, reflecting off the water, bathing the beach in a silvery light. It was probably the most beautiful place she had ever seen. She cast a quick glance toward the tree line, but there was nothing. Had she imagined that the darkness was coming for her? “It’s nice here,” she said. Perhaps she could build a thatched hut, live on the beach, and eat coconuts. At the thought of food, her stomach groaned. She hadn’t eaten in so long, she couldn’t remember. Cade must have heard the sound.
“Phoebe’s cooking dinner,” he said. “Mexican food.”
Her stomach groaned again. She loved Mexican food. She glanced at the helicopter, a bubble of metal and glass, and the thought of climbing into it sent a shudder running through her whole body.
“Don’t you know by now, Torr won’t let anything harm you.”
She opened her mouth to argue, to ask what he could do, if those flimsy blades fell off, or the glass broke, or… Then she remembered that somehow he had gotten her off a crashing plane in one piece with nothing more than a slight bruise to her face. ‘Trust me,’ he’d said, and–weird though it may be—she did.
She gave the slightest incline of her head, and Cade grinned then strode off, leaving her with Torr. She made to step after him, when Torr reached out, lifted her into his arms, and cradled her close to his chest as he crossed the sand. She closed her eyes as he ducked beneath the whirring blades, kept them shut as he put her down gently in the seat and strapped her in. She didn’t open them as the whir of the blades grew louder and she felt the earth abandon them as they rose gently into the air.
She clamped her lips shut as the nausea crawled up her throat. Her hands grasped the safety harness with claw-like fingers. Torr unpeeled them from around the webbing and tugged her hand onto his lap. He stroked her fingers and finally the vice-like grip of fear relaxed its tight hold. After ten minutes, when they hadn’t tumbled back to the earth, she slowly pried her eyes open.
Cade was directly in front of her, flying the helicopter, she presumed. Torr was beside her, still holding her hand. Outside was darkness, but if she forced herself to peer down she could make out the lights of buildings somewhere to the left of them.
Torr squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
He seemed to be asking that question an awful lot lately. She nodded. “Talk to me,” she ordered, needing something to take her mind off where she was and maybe, at the same time, she would learn something useful.
He studied her for a moment, as if trying to penetrate her mind. “Tell me, why are you so afraid of losing the wall?”
The question sent a jolt of shock through her. She bit her lip, but she wasn’t so much of a coward that she couldn’t face the truth. “My mother hated me.”
He went still at her words, as though he hadn’t been expecting that answer. She forced herself to go on. “I always knew it. The first thing I remember was feeling her festering hatred pounding at me. When I looked at her, hatred was all I saw. I couldn’t shut it out.”
“I’ve read the files. She was a drug addict— a sick woman.”
“When I was older, I understood that, but that’s not really why she hated me.” She tried for a wry smile as though it didn’t matter. “She once told me she’d named me Belladonna because I’d poisoned her life. Apparently, my father did a runner when he found out she was pregnant. She always blamed me—told me he was the love of her life. Though I don’t believe she ever loved anyone. The real problem was that I loved her. And I tried so hard to make her love me.” She blinked away the tears that welled up in her eyes. “I ran away when I finally accepted that wasn’t going to happen.” She closed her mind against the memories of that night. “It was easier in some ways on the street. I kept to myself, kept my distance, tried not to let the pain and the hatred get to me. Sometimes I couldn’t shut it out though. Then I met Justin. He was a couple of years older than I was. And he had the purest mind I’ve ever encountered. After all he had been through—his parents threw him out because he was gay—he’d never given in to hatred. I could be with Justin, see what was in his head, and still believe that the world wasn’t a totally evil place.”
“I’m sorry he died.”
“Me, too.” A single tear spilled over. “So, the reason I need the wall is because I don’t want to feel what other people feel, I don’t want to sense what they think of me or experience their pain. I just want to be left alone in my mind.”
“There’s more,” Torr stated, as if he already knew the answer.
Bella rested her head back; she felt drained, but she should finish this. “I don’t want to look into the minds of people I…” She hovered on the word. She’d been going to say love, but surely, she couldn’t mean that. She didn’t love Torr, she’d only met him two days ago, it wasn’t possible, and besides, she didn’t believe in love. “…care about, and see that they hate me, or want to use me, or even worse see me as some sort of freak.”
“You’re not a freak.” His tone was tight, angry, and she glanced at him in surprise.
“It’s what my mother used to call me.” She forced another smile, as empty as the last. “She used to introduce me to her boyfriends. ‘My little freak,’ she’d call me.”
“You’re not a freak,” he said again.
***
Torr couldn’t believe the fury that poured like molten lava through his veins. He silently cursed the woman who had turned Bella into this, who had made her fear the thoughts and feeling of others, so that she’d walled herself up and closed herself off to love.
Back there on the beach, he’d been close to breaking through her defenses. Now for the first time, he wondered what would happen when she did open to him. He’d always been so sure that she would look inside him, see his love, and it would be enough.
Now, doubts nagged at his mind. She had said this Justin was pure. What would she see when she looked into Torr’s mind? Certainly not purity. He had lost that over two thousand years ago.
For many years, hatred had been the only emotion which had existed within him. He had caused chaos wherever he went, slaughtered without pity.
Would she look inside his mind and see all the black deeds written on his soul?
Then a darker thought occurred to him. How could she when he had no soul? Would Bella look inside him and see a great wasteland of nothing?
He’d lose her. He was filled with a certainty that clouded his gaze, and he gripped her hand tighter as though he could keep her by force alone. But that was a lie.
“Torr?”
Her brows were furrowed, and he forced the dark thoughts down. “You’re no freak. Your powers are a gift. You’ll come to see that.”
“Maybe.”
She didn’t sound convinced, and he didn’t know how to persuade her when she had lived through such bad experiences. He hoped in time he could show her. Even if he failed in securing her love, at least she would gain the freedom to accept what she was and find some measure of happiness in the world without him. She looked fragile and tired, blue shadows beneath her eyes.
“Why don’t you try to sleep now?”
“Yeah, right.” The disbelief was clear in her tone, but she settled back and her lashes fluttered closed.
She should sleep while she could. He had a feeling the night was going to get busy. The shadow demons had not found them by accident so soon after the crash. They had been waiting. Waiting for Bella.
Chapter 13
The sound of the whirring blades was strangely soporific, and she amazed herself by falling into a light doze. She came wide-awake when the soothing sound changed and she’d jolted upright in her seat, sure that they were about to crash.
Cade grinned over his shoulder. “We’re coming in to land.”
Relief flooded her, and she peered out of the window. They were sinking down toward a flat rooftop, one of a number of buildings within a walled compound. All around, the lights of a city spread out as far as she could see.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Mexico City,” Torr replied.
“You have a house here?” She didn’t want to sound impressed, but it definitely came out that way.
“The company does. We have offices in all the major cities and this is where we stay if we need to visit.”
Phoebe had been busy. Not only had she been cooking, but she’d also somehow managed to procure new clothes for Bella.
Bella showered in the luxurious room Torr had shown her to, and then dressed in clean clothes. Not her usual jeans, but tight black pants tucked into high boots and a fuchsia pink sweater, which hugged her small breasts and clashed wonderfully with her hair.
She came out to find Torr leaning against the wall, waiting for her. Opening her mouth to call him a stalker, she shut it again—at least he hadn’t followed her into the shower. He’d also found some clothes, probably his own, as they were his usual style —black pants, a black shirt, and a long leather trench coat that nearly swept the ground. He looked lean, mean, and capable of taking on anything. She found the idea comforting.
In the huge kitchen, she sat at the end of a long table and ate delicious fajitas washed down with Corona, while eyeing Torr and Cade, who sat at the far end discussing their secrets in hushed voices.
When she finally couldn’t eat any more, she sat back in her chair and sighed. Torr looked up and rose to his feet.
“Better?”
“Much.”
Now all she wanted was a comfortable bed, a long sleep, and maybe forget everything for a while. She had a suspicion things weren’t going to happen that way.
“We have to go out,” Torr said.
She had a brief hope that the ‘we’ referred to Torr and Cade, and that she wasn’t included. The hope shriveled fast as he held out a hand to her.
“Do I have to come?” She hated the whine in her voice, but could do nothing about it.
“I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I won’t go anywhere.”
“It’s not safe.”
Bella glanced across the room to where Phoebe stood talking to Cade quietly. “Phoebe gets to stay on her own.”
“Somebody isn’t after Phoebe. I need you where I know you’re safe. Which means with me.”
It was sweet really. She huffed out a breath and gave in to the inevitable. Besides, the truth was, Torr did make her feel safe.
“So where are we going?” she asked half an hour later.
The car had dropped them off a few blocks back. Now, Torr had her hand clamped tight in his, as he dragged her down some dark alley, in some run down part of the city, heading who knew where. She had the distinct impression that if he could have gotten away with handcuffing her to his side, he would have done.
As they passed, people slunk into the shadows, fading out of their path. At least, she thought they were people. Bella didn’t blame them. Cade had donned a matching trench coat and the two together looked downright mean. They moved through the city streets as though they belonged to the darkness of the night. Above them, flickers of crimson lightning illuminated the sky and the air around them crackled with electricity.
Finally, they came to a halt outside a dark doorway. She tugged on Torr’s sleeve. “Please, just tell me why we’re here.”
“This is the last place my friend was seen.”
“And you think he might be here?”
“We have to start somewhere. Stay close to me.”
As he pushed open the door, Bella realized the building was actually some sort of bar or nightclub. Inside, the lights were bright and the music low but thumping. Bella kept close to Torr as he stepped inside and the heavy door clicked shut behind them. The place was crowded, all the tables filled; the customers a mixture of well-heeled to positively sleazy. Everyone glanced at the door as they entered, and the low buzz of conversation ceased abruptly.
She caught one man’s gaze and was sure his eyes flashed crimson before he looked the other way. A second snarled as they passed. Cade whirled around and the sound was cut-off. Bella couldn’t see his expression, but the man took one look, shoved back his chair, and sloped into the shadows at the edge of the room, to vanish.
A stage ran along the far side and a nearly naked dancer, with unbelievably large breasts, and even more improbably bright blonde hair, gyrated around a pole, seeming oblivious to what was going on around her.
The air was heavy with smoke, and the stench of sweat and expensive perfume mixed into a cloying combination which clung to her skin and clogged her lungs. Something unnatural hung in the air, fogging her mind.
Torr moved to the side of the room, his hand tightening around her, while Cade stepped up to the bar and spoke with the barman whose eyes widened in surprise. When he shook his head, Cade leaned toward him, grabbed the front of his T-shirt, and pulled him halfway across the bar. All around the room, the lights flickered.
Cade leaned in close and spoke again, this time the bartender nodded, a frantic movement of his head. Cade dropped him. The man scurried back, and
a moment later the music stopped as Cade turned around and addressed the room. “Get out. Vaya!”
One by one, the chairs were kicked out and customers rose and left the bar. They were, for the most part, silent; but as one man passed, he spat and muttered the words, “Storm Lord.” It didn’t sound like a compliment. As his eyes flickered to where she stood beside Torr, he spoke again, “Destroyer.”
Torr’s head swung around and he stared at the man who looked at the floor and scuttled out.
Bella frowned. Stormlord was the name of their company; but who or what was the Destroyer? And did she really want to know?
It took only moments for the bar to empty. Soon, only the bartender was left and the dancer, who gazed around her as if wondering where everybody had gone. The barman went up to the stage and spoke to her. She stumbled off and disappeared around the back, and he turned back to them.
He was young, probably about Bella’s age. She would have classified him as gorgeous if he hadn’t been standing beside Cade, who could put anyone she had ever met, apart from Torr, into the shade. Blond, shoulder length hair, tall, with a lean rangy body, and a long bony face. A nametag with ‘Mitch’ across it was clipped to his chest. He also had the same sense of leashed power she felt when she was close to Torr and his friends, but muted, subdued. He stepped toward them, eyes narrowed.
“We have violated none of your laws,” Mitch said. “What right do you have to come—”
“Shut up,” Torr snarled, and Bella jumped at the sound of his voice. Low, filled with menace. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know—”
His words were cut off by Cade. Faster than Bella could follow, he drew a long knife from a sheath beneath his coat and leapt across the room. The gleaming blade pressed against the bartender’s throat.
Bella gasped and held her breath.
“Tell me where he is, wolf, and I might let you live.”
Cade’s tone was like ice, sending a shiver of unease trickling down her spine. He drew the blade back, and a small bead of crimson blood welled up from the wound. Mitch stumbled, backing away from Cade, who held the blade poised.
