“Now let me help you.” He lifted his arm, bared his fangs, and sliced into his wrist, then held the bloody wound against her mouth. He let his head fall against the wall as she drank, keeping his other arm around her, while he watched his people work efficiently to deal with the disaster. His injured vampires were being moved to the waiting SUVs, some of them given a quick dose of blood before traveling the short distance down the coast to Raphael’s estate, where they could be treated and protected properly. Nathan, of course, was already gone and dusted. There was no body to collect, no honorable removal from the battlefield. But that was the way of vampires. Juro? he called telepathically, easily making contact with his longtime security chief who appeared a moment later.
“Sire.”
“Where’s Gabriel?”
“Already at the estate. His wounds were severe, but he’ll recover. Before he left, he told me he heard an engine after they took Hana. Cynthia has said the same. I’m thinking they escaped the same way they came in.”
Raphael indicated his understanding, then caught sight of the witch’s son coming down the stairs. Katsaros’s warriors were bloodied, but still standing. They’d both helped defend the courtyard, knowing it was more lightly defended and easily accessed. None of them had considered an attack from the sea, and Raphael cursed his own stupidity. He, at least, should have known that the ocean was no longer the barrier it had once been, and been prepared for an assault from that direction. And speaking of preparations, where the fuck was Katsaros? It had been his job more than any other’s to keep Hana safe, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Cyn stopped sucking his wrist and licked the wounds, which made him smile. Her saliva didn’t contain any of the coagulants to speed healing that his did, but the slide of her tongue was soothing all the same.
“I heard a boat,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, while still licking the blood from her lips.
“So I’m told. Gabriel heard the same.”
“He’s alive?”
“Barely, but yes. What happened here? A where’s that fucking sorcerer?”
“Nick was talking to Hana, and she was nodding, and then suddenly the whole house rocked like it was hit by a giant fist that couldn’t break through, just as we heard gunfire from the front courtyard. I don’t know enough about magic to tell you who or what that first hit was, but Nick said something about Sotiris trying to destroy the house, and that he had to stop it. He told us to handle the rest, and then he disappeared. Almost immediately, there was a big explosion on the beach, and those two”—she nodded at Damian and Kato who were both standing in the kitchen now, conferring with each other and their women, neither of whom was injured—“went out front to reinforce Juro’s team, while Gabriel and I dug in here, with Hana.” She started to shake her head, then winced again. “Damn it,” she cursed, before continuing. “I knew you were on the way and thought we could hold out ‘til you got here. Between us, Gabriel and I took out every asshole who came through that door, but then this huge guy stomps in, armored to the teeth. His gear must have weighed sixty pounds at least. No way that wasn’t a custom job, by the way. Maybe we can track that. He took me out first, or he thought he did. I hit my head on this damn stone wall and went down. After that, I don’t know. But Gabriel will. He was right next to me, blocking the hallway after he shoved Hana into the bathroom.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Raphael said somewhat absently as he scanned the room once more. “Have you seen Katsaros at all since then?”
“Um, no. Not since he popped out. Should I—”
Raphael held her still. “You should do nothing but sit there and recover. Damian,” he called, since he was the closest. “Where’s that fucking sorcerer?”
Damian scowled, but said, “He’s not back yet, but he will be.”
“Where’d he go?”
The warrior walked over to avoid yelling across the room. “I would assume, from what we all saw, that Sotiris attacked the house, intentionally drawing Nico away and clearing a path for his soldiers. After that . . .” He gave Raphael a frustrated look. “I don’t know. He and Sotiris could still be fighting, or Nico could be trailing Sotiris back to his hideout by now. Or frankly, a hundred other possibilities. We’ll just have to wait—”
Everyone went on alert as Katsaros reappeared with a roar of displaced air. He staggered slightly as his feet hit the floor, looking as cut up and bloodied as those who’d remained behind.
“Fucker ran away again,” he spat out, then looked around, taking in the disaster. His gaze fell on Damian. “Hana?”
Damian shook his head.
“Motherfucker!”
Raphael disengaged gently, but firmly, when Cyn would have held him back. He stood, his eyes casting a silver glow in the dimly lit room, fury a raging fire in his chest. “One of my people is dead, my mate and many others are sorely injured, and . . . oh, yes, the enemy has Hana.” He paused for effect. “So, I guess we’re all fucked now.”
Chapter Eleven
RAPHAEL TURNED HIS back on Katsaros before he killed him. It would be one hell of a fight, he admitted, but he’d succeed eventually. Unfortunately, Cyn wouldn’t like it. It would also be nearly impossible to keep his vampires and the fucking sorcerer’s people from joining in, turning the whole thing into a second clusterfuck, which they really didn’t need right now. Hana was one of his people, his responsibility, and she’d been kidnapped. Finding her before Sotiris either used her or killed her was his priority. Katsaros might still be helpful in that, so killing him would have to wait.
The sound of a big engine revving as it slid to a tire-screeching stop in the courtyard had everyone’s head turning in that direction. Jared, who’d arrived with Raphael, headed for the door, as did the witch’s son, Kato.
“Fuck,” Raphael heard Jared exclaim, but more in surprise than anger. “What’re you doing here?” A moment later, Gabriel staggered into the house, Jared close by his side, practically holding him up. “Sit before you fall, you idiot.”
Gabriel dropped onto one of the few unbroken chairs and looked around until he found Raphael. “I needed to be here, my lord. She did it for me, to save my life. I told her not to, but she did it anyway.”
Raphael walked over and placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “It’s good you’re here. You and Cyn are the only two who know what happened when they took her, and my Cyn was unconscious for much of it. We need details to begin our search.”
It wasn’t exactly true, but he understood Gabriel’s need to be a part of the hunt for the woman he loved.
Gabriel drew a deep breath and nodded, visibly centering himself. “Cyn told you about that big fucker and how he was all armored up?”
“Yes.”
“I guess he figured out where Hana was hiding from the way Cyn and I were deployed. He had a big ass gun. A handgun, but like a small cannon. He fired one shot and obliterated that heavy cabinet she was hiding behind—just blew it to splinters. It looked like a Desert Eagle, like that one Damian uses, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to look closely. The rounds were 50 cal though, because the bastard bragged about it to Hana when he held the gun to my head and told her he’d kill me if she didn’t go nicely. I told her not to, but . . .” He dropped his head into his hands.
“Definitely a Desert Eagle,” Cyn interjected, probably to give Gabriel a few minutes to pull himself together. “When he took out the cabinet I was hiding behind, the force of it threw me into that fucking stone wall. That’s what took me out, which was lucky. If he’d shot me, I’d be dead.” Raphael reached out and pulled her to his side, not wanting to think about how close he’d come to losing her.
“I saw you go down,” Gabriel agreed. “I didn’t know how badly you were hit, and didn’t have time to do anything anyway, because he was on me in the next second. I took two rounds in the chest. The vest slowed th
em down some, and my vampire blood did the rest.”
“Not hardly,” Jared commented. “You’ve got eight broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a badly bruised heart. You’re lucky to be alive, vampire or not.”
“I’m alive. Doesn’t matter how,” he dismissed. “What matters is finding Hana.” He swung his gaze to Raphael. “They left by boat. Did Cyn tell you that?”
Raphael nodded. “She thought she heard one but couldn’t be sure. You’ve confirmed it. It’s a place to start. I already have people working on it back at the house—but the ocean’s a big place. There are at least three marinas within easy distance, or they could have had a larger ship waiting to pick them up. We need more information.” He turned to Jared. “I understand we have a survivor.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Raphael bared his teeth. “Good. Bring him in.” While Jared went to get their prisoner, Raphael swung his head around to address Nick’s two warriors. “This might get . . . messy. If you or your women would rather, I can take him to my estate. I have facilities.”
The four of them glanced at each other and shrugged, but it was Grace—the woman who owned the house—who surprised Raphael by responding. She gestured at the wreckage of the large room and shrugged. “No need to waste time moving him. We’ll be renovating anyway.”
Raphael smiled. “Very well,” he said and watched as Jared dragged the unwilling man into the room. Kato provided a kitchen chair, and Jared dropped the man onto it. He didn’t bother to secure him. If he was stupid enough to try to run, Raphael had more than enough power to hold him in place.
The man was bloodied, but his eyes were clear when he looked up and scanned the grim faces surrounding him. “Look, man, I did a job, okay? They pay me, and I go where they say.”
“Do you?” Raphael crooned, drawing the prisoner’s immediate attention. As with the rest of his people, his fangs were out of sight, for now. But the vampire lord didn’t need fangs to be threatening. He was a big man, confident in his physical prowess, as well as his power, which was always a factor, always lying just under his skin, giving him a lethal aura. Any enemy forced to confront him would have difficulty putting into words the danger they sensed simply by sitting in front of him, but the chill in their bones and the terror in their hearts would speak loudly enough.
Raphael took a step closer, making it clear he’d be the one the prisoner had to deal with. “Who hired you?”
“I don’t have a name, and if I did, it’d probably be fake. He was a middle-aged guy, dark hair, good shape, but not winning any prizes. We don’t work cheap, so he has money. Fancy car, fancy watch.”
“What did he want?”
“Want?” The guy looked confused.
Raphael glowered.
“I mean, he wanted to hire us, right?”
Either the man was still concussed or plain stupid. “What specifically did he say he wanted you to do, after he hired you?”
“Oh. He said he wanted the Japanese chick, showed us a picture to be sure. He didn’t say why, and we didn’t ask questions. Never do. But the guy didn’t know shit about weapons. He told us it was vampires who had her, and we’d have to grab her at night. After that, he met our price, and the deal was made. Up front, it sounded like a simple snatch and grab.”
Raphael tilted his head curiously. “You weren’t concerned about confronting vampires?”
The man shrugged, grimacing in pain at the habitual movement. His left arm was caked with dried blood, the sleeve torn from shoulder to wrist. He sucked in a harsh breath before answering, his voice strained. Apparently Juro hadn’t bothered to heal him anymore than was necessary to keep him alive. “We brought twice as much firepower as usual, plus the boss wore his Iron Man gear. He had it made special. He said that with enough fire power, even vampires can die, and he knows. He used to work for the local vampire honcho.”
“Is that so?” the vampire lord purred. “What did you say your boss’s name was?”
The prisoner looked around nervously, seeming to notice the abrupt spike in the tension level. “I, um, didn’t,” he said, before shooting his gaze back to Raphael. “But it’s Bernardo. First name’s Alessio-something-or-other, but everyone calls him Bluto.”
“Bluto?”
“You know, like the big guy in Popeye?”
“It’s a cartoon,” Cyn muttered from behind him.
A cartoon. People had died, and this fool was rambling about a fucking cartoon. Raphael’s patience snapped. He didn’t need the man to talk to get what he needed, didn’t even need him coherent. He could reach into the fucker’s head and scrape out everything he knew. His brain would be mush, but he was going to die anyway. Raphael was only playing this stupid twenty questions to please the human half of the room, and he’d had enough.
Looking down, he met the man’s gaze and slowly let his fangs slide from his gums. “Only one vampire died tonight,” he said slowly, drinking in the man’s sudden terror. “One. But that one vampire of mine is the same as thirty thousand of you humans. Do you get my point?”
The prisoner swallowed as the stench of his fear grew. “I was only doing a job,” he pleaded, seeming finally to recognize the true danger. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know!”
“Yes, you will.” Raphael smiled. And the man screamed.
THERE WAS BLOOD running from every opening in the prisoner’s head when Raphael finished. Jared signaled behind him, and a vampire stepped up with what looked exactly like a giant roll of plastic wrap. He and another vampire efficiently wrapped up the body and carried it out the door, to be loaded into one of the SUVs and driven back to the estate, where it would be unceremoniously incinerated and scattered to the winds.
“That’s brutal, man,” Damian said.
Raphael speared him with a look. “One of my people is dead, others seriously injured, including my mate,” he said, every word coated with ice. “You haven’t seen brutal yet.”
“Hey, I didn’t say it was bad.”
“Did you at least learn something?” Katsaros inquired, from where he was standing in the kitchen, casually drinking a bottle of water.
Raphael snarled and swung to face him. “Looks like your enemy outsmarted you again, sorcerer.”
Katsaros glared, but then bared his teeth in a grin. “You didn’t, did you? You turned that guy’s brain to mush, then discovered that’s all it was to begin with.”
Raphael turned purposefully away and spoke to Juro. “Do you remember this Bernardo person? Did he work for us?”
Juro shook his head. “The name’s not familiar, but I have someone running it back on the estate. It’s possible he worked for some other vampire and exaggerated his importance, or even that he never worked for a vampire at all.”
Raphael frowned unhappily. “That one,” he said, indicating the puddle of blood on the floor, which was the only sign of the dead prisoner, “only saw Sotiris once, when the mercenary team was first hired. Assuming it was Sotiris he saw, since he never heard a name.”
“Description fits,” Katsaros offered. Raphael took in the information but didn’t so much as glance his way.
“The mercenaries’ task included providing security on Sotiris’s home once Hana was delivered there, but the only one who visited the house ahead of time was Bernardo.”
“Fuck.”
Raphael finally looked at the sorcerer. “I assume that means you, too, learned nothing. Other than the folly of permitting one’s enemy to lure you away from the prize, of course.”
NICK DIDN’T BOTHER to respond to the fucking vampire’s smug assessment. The bastard was right. He never should have left Hana, but Sotiris’s attack hadn’t been some weak ploy, it had been a full-on assault on the house, hitting Nick’s wards hard enough that the blow had pinged against Kato’s wards far beneath his own. If he’d
done nothing, Sotiris would have torn the roof off and plucked Hana from their midst. He’d had no choice but to counterattack, to defend the house and everyone in it. In the aftermath, it was easy for the vampire to stand there and say he’d been duped, but at the time. . . . Fuck.
“He drew you away, then attacked the house with overwhelming force. Gabriel and Cyn both heard a boat. We can assume . . .”
That vampire asshole was still going on, repeating what everyone already knew, dumping on Nick like some lecturing school marm. Yeah, Sotiris had been smart. He’d always been fucking smart. But Nick was smart, too. Then it hit him.
“My people are searching for this Bernardo person,” Raphael was saying, the first useful thing he’d said so far. “If he worked for us in the past, we’ll have records. The prisoner gave up a phone number for him, but—”
Nick interrupted. “Sotiris will want her stashed someplace that’s as secure as he can make it. And fast. Which means it has to be close. He’ll take her to his house here in the city.”
“The place you said you couldn’t find?” the vampire asked dryly.
It was Nick’s turn to snarl, teeth bared. “Don’t fucking push me, vampire.”
Raphael bared his own teeth, fangs gleaming. “Or what?” he taunted.
“Stop!” Gabriel roared, then fell back to his chair, breathing hard. “Please. Hana’s running out of time.”
Nick’s face fell. “Damn it, you’re right. I’m sorry—” His voice fell off when Raphael walked over to confront the wounded vampire, and Nick raised his magic, prepared to defend his warrior. Instead, he watched in stunned silence as Raphael went to one knee and used a fang to rip open his vein. “Drink,” he said, putting his other hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “You’ll need to be strong when we rescue Hana, and we will. My word on it.”
Gabriel stared at Raphael for a moment, then bowed his head. “Thank you, my lord,” he whispered.
“Drink,” Raphael reminded him and remained kneeling as Gabriel drank until his eyelids lowered in exhaustion. The vampire lord turned and caught Jared’s eye. “Get someone to drive him back. He needs sleep more than he needs to be here.” He rose gracefully to his feet, and taking the wet towel one of his vamps offered him, he turned to Nick. “So how do we find Sotiris?”
Ganriel Page 27
