by Kim Faulks
“Follow me.”
The Hound turned at the doorway and stepped inside. I took one look at the mansion—even from here I could see the black obsidian rock reaching around the glass to swallow the place whole. Whoever built this monster wanted one thing—to watch and be watched.
I made for the doorway and stepped inside. The cold touch of this place carried inside. Cold steel, cold glass. I spied my reflection in the tinted glass walls as the door closed behind me.
“This way,” the guard growled up ahead.
I caught movement behind me—two, three guards moved into the foyer. They watched me with careful eyes as I climbed the stairs. Hellhounds. I could smell their stench from here. But they weren’t powerful, not like Amaris. Even Parry’s fire burned brighter.
I glanced to the weapons tethered to their chests and waists. If the new King of Hell’s Gate wanted his house more dominating, then he’d succeeded. I climbed to the top of the stairs and followed the guard along the hallway. Glass walls crowded in. Dark shapes and silhouettes were all I could see, until I glanced along the hall and slowed my steps.
A door was cracked open at the end of the hall. A woman stood alone, arms crossed over her body, and stared forlornly out the window. An ache flared across my chest at the sight. I stilled in the middle of the hallway. She was so beautiful—pale skin was perfect and auburn hair that reached her waist, from this distance it almost looked like rust and blood. I wanted her to turn her head, wanted us to connect for just a second. I was sure I knew her…
My heart sped, finding a new pace until a male stepped into the doorway and ended the view. He glanced up, and his dark, dangerous gaze met mine. Fire flared hungry and fierce, and I was thrown from this moment into the darkness…to the night I came here seeking counsel with the King.
“Guardian,” the male growled and yanked the door closed behind him, ending the view.
He lifted a hand and motioned to the doorway of a smaller room. “If you please.”
I didn’t want to follow his lead. Didn’t want to move from the doorway…didn’t want to leave…her.
“Guardian.”
But this was no request. This was a command.
I followed him, tearing myself away from the sight of that door to step into the room. Steel and leather crammed the view. Three heavy chairs sat in front of a glass-topped desk. He gave a wave of his hand toward a chair and yet, I didn’t want to be in this room—didn’t want to see her with this man. But I didn't even know him…
Don’t you?
Memories crowded in, darkened memories so foggy…
It’s like the whole city is under a damn spell.
Ezre’s words filled my head as I stared at this man.
“I’ve got to say I’m surprised, a Guardian here in Hell’s Gate."
I searched those darkened memories as he spoke, finding shadows and silhouettes. Emotions consumed me—desperation, heartache, and Zadoc filled me—desperation for Zadoc. I needed to find her…needed to save little Thorn.
“So what brings you…here?”
The flare of agony was a knife across my chest. I tried to focus on this man…tried to hear his words. “I came to find someone.”
“Find someone?” He leaned forward, his interest piqued.
But it shouldn’t be, should it…he knows exactly who I wanted, my Dragon whispered. He knows because he was there…that night.
“And does this someone have a name?”
Darkness and shadows and desperation. Find Thorn. Save Zadoc. Meet with the Hellhounds…find their King, find Heron…
The darkness lightened, fragments filtered in—so tiny at first. My heart sped as I stared at him…finding familiar in the gloom of my mind. “I saw you.”
The smile on his face faltered. There was a twitch at the corner of his eye. “Saw me? I don’t know what you mean. I’d think I’d know you if—”
“That night…the night I was bitten. The night Heron met with me, and then attacked me.”
“You’re mistaken, Guardian.” He leaned forward. “There was a rumor that a Guardian wanted to meet with the King. But I’ve never met with you…I’ve never seen you.”
No, but we saw him…didn’t we?
“You were bitten.” He clucked his tongue. “Quite badly if I remember.”
His gaze slipped from my face to my chest and then my belly. I could almost see his thoughts, almost feel the panic simmering under the surface.
He was trying to understand…how.
He thinks I’m the one who killed Heron.
After I made him heal me.
Now it was my time to smile.
I came to find the enemy…I came to find his weakness, and now I found it.
Her name was Amaris Knox.
11
Amaris
This place didn’t feel right. I lifted my gaze to the blinding sun shining through the Ash tree overhead and shuddered.
“You okay?” Parry growled as he stopped beside me.
I gave a nod, but the motion was a lie. Sunlight danced across my face. But I couldn’t feel the warmth—and that icy hunger welled in the pit of my stomach.
It was this day.
This mountain.
It was the fucking seconds where I waited for Blaze to make the next move.
Whatever it was…I’d be waiting.
I found the tire marks in the dirt, and a small faded sign hanging from the tree. The creepy bastard wasn’t lying. This was the place where he backed a truck—I tuned to the wide fissure in the mountain—all the way up there. But there was no whisper of what he carried…and no answer as to why. “Any word on the others?”
“None. Motor, that sullen bastard’s probably sleeping off a damn hangover. He’s a glutton, you know? Two damn deer and five rabbits. I bet he’s eaten half his kill already, and don’t you worry about Stix—last I heard he had himself a companion topside. Bastard’s fallen in love if you ask me, stupid fool. So it’s just the five of us”
No matter how much Parry joked, this wasn’t like Motor…or Stix. I turned to the sheer cliff face, and the opening. “Not anywhere near enough. Never mind, we’ll go ahead without them.”
“Not without me, you won’t.”
The snarl slipped from the trees to my right. Heat rushed with the sound of his voice; still I swallowed and wrenched my head toward the Guardian. “How did you find us?”
He gave a shrug, and then a smile. The bastard looked like he stepped from the cover of GQ. Dark navy blue jeans that hugged all the wrong places, and a silver long sleeved top that just looked fucking gorgeous. I turned away. “Fucking Stone.”
“Yep. Fucking Stone,” he mirrored.
Why, I wanted to snarl. Why him, why the fucking Cursed—why any of them? I fought my own battles, killed my own damn enemies. I protected my own people. “Don’t need your help, Guardian.”
“And yet here I am.”
I ground my jaw and gave him my back. He could follow if he wanted. “Ready, Parry?”
The old man growled beside me. “Always.”
Rocks clattered to my left. The snap of a twig shattered the stillness at my right. I glanced at the others, and then surged forward, climbing the gnarled tree roots and pushed higher.
Rocks turned into boulders, and the trees thinned out. Darkness waited in the cavern…darkness and something else. Something brushed my arm. My fingers trembled and went for my waist as I turned to stare at the Guardian. But there was no growl left in me.
Violet flames danced in obsidian eyes. He gave one small nod and matched my stride, and for some reason the pent up breath escaped. I could feel him beside me, feel his energy, his heat…feel him like a whisper in my mind.
“I’m right behind you,” he murmured as the mountain stole the sun.
And in that moment there was no one else I wanted by my side. I yanked my blade free and stepped through the opening. Light pulsed from the blade. Soft now, not too much.
I dragged in the cav
ern air and felt the icy burn all the way through my lungs.
Underneath the stale smell was something else.
Something very familiar—the metallic tang of fresh blood.
Parry drew his gun, and slipped into the darkness. The other men followed, fanning out behind me. Bastian scanned the walls and moved to my left. Rocks tumbled as we moved, but I was past caring about noise. A frigid touch raced along my spine as I moved deeper. Footsteps echoed.
“There’s nothing here,” Parry barked. “Not a damn fucking thing.”
I stepped over rocks and pebbles to make my way deeper. Someone clicked on a flashlight and scanned the cavern, but the glow from my blade was more than enough. Parry was right. The place was empty.
Still that icy touch lingered while an old woman’s voice in my head whispered. Be careful of the cold. Be careful of the cold. They see you…they see everyone, watching you in the dark. Hungry…hungry…hungry.
“Amaris?”
I flinched and turned to find Bastian’s concern. His dark gaze narrowed. He scanned the emptiness and settled on me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, fine.”
But that pit in my stomach refused to ease. Walk a little deeper? The guys will wait.
I took a step, listening for Bastian’s boots behind me. He followed, as I knew he would. My blade blazed, throwing the glare deeper. Shadows hugged the hollows and the cracks, still there was no movement, no pile of boxes, no hoarding of…what? What did I actually think I was going to find? Whatever Maxwell delivered wasn’t here anymore. “Let’s go.”
I followed the others and stilled at the opening, taking one last look at a dead fucking end before I strode from the cavern. "You guys head back home. I want to stop in and check on Motor.”
Parry took one long look at the Guardian. “You want some company?”
“I’ll go.” Bastian gave the old guy a nod.
“You’re supposed to be gone, Guardian,” Parry snapped. “Why are you still here?”
And that was the question wasn’t it? Bastian moved ahead, stepping down the slope, finding sure footing when the rest of us fumbled like damn baboons. “Let’s just say I now have a vested interest.”
Parry stopped, turned. His top lip curled in a snarl. “In what?”
My pulse picked up pace. I couldn’t lift my head. Couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“In this fight. In your people. It’s what we were created for, isn’t it? Battle for the weak, defend the honorable.”
“Aha,” the old guy snapped. “And where have you and your kind been all these years…when we needed you?”
A bird called, overhead. In the distance a truck downshifted, and air-brakes howled.
“I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Yes.” The word slipped from my lips as I took a step, and then another, passing them as I headed for the cars. “Yes, that counts for something.”
The rest of the walk was quiet, but I could feel the tension building. The shit hung heavy on my shoulders…weighing me down. “Stay, go. I don’t care, but you better keep up, Guardian. I’m not waiting for anyone.”
I made for the base of the mountain and then focused on the Jeep. Hunt it down…the need surged. And that was what I needed to do, hunt this fucking dark pit in my gut down and end it.
I shoved my fingers into my pocket and grasped a small set of keys. Four beaten four-wheel drives blocked the track to the main road. I made for the first one and climbed into the driver’s side. The door opened a second later, and he was sitting there beside me.
The engine growled to life. Black plumes of smoke drifted from the exhaust as I glanced into the rearview mirror and then straight ahead. The track led around the base of the mountain to a smaller road into the city. Blaze’s goons would be out in full force, and every second we were topside was a risk.
Silence filled the space as I shoved the car into gear and surged forward. He said nothing, only gripped the dash as I eased us onto the thin track. Trees crowded in, scraping the badly faded paintwork. I focused on the drive finding the hard ruts as we circled the base.
“What did you think you’d find back there?”
I swallowed and tried to find the words. “Not nothing, put it that way.”
The cold stagnant air still welled in my lungs. “You get anything back there?”
“If you mean the blood, then yeah…”
So it wasn’t just me. The tension grew…and that darkness in my gut flared. I wrenched my head toward the Guardian. His gaze was fixed ahead, body moving with the sway of the car. I found the dark stubble, and those perfect fucking lips and then tore my focus to the road ahead.
He’s keeping something from me. The thought took hold. “So, I see you stayed with Stone last night.”
“He was a very gracious host.”
I strangled the wheel and wrenched right, climbing the four-wheel drive over the hard shoulder and onto the bitumen. The Guardian wanted to keep his secrets, then that was fine with me.
“Blaze Trigg. Tell me about him.”
Hate flared, burning like a fireball through that empty hollow in my gut. I forced the words through clenched teeth. “What do you want to know?”
“How the hell he was able to unseat your father as the rightful King for one.”
Oh, he went straight for the vein, didn’t he? I glanced right and then left and climbed the Jeep over the deep rut finding bitumen. “Let’s just say, he made some wrong choices.”
“And he paid for those choices with blood.”
Yeah he did. “It was either me or you Guardian.”
He seemed to chew on that as the thud of heavy tires filled the space. I nosed the car toward the city and punched the accelerator. The streets were quiet, still I kept check. “You strong enough to fight?”
“Yeah. This Motor, he your…mate?”
I swallowed a breath. The air was a fist in the back of my throat. I coughed, hacked, tried to drag in a breath as the road blurred. “Motor? Fuck no. Why, you interested? I’m sure after being single for ten years the cranky old bastard would be up for almost anything.”
There was a twitch near his eye. “Maybe,” he answered. “It’s been a thousand years for me.”
My pulse thundered as a surge of desire licked deep. I clutched the wheel and focused on not driving us into a damn ditch…a thousand years? My throat turned arid. I tried to swallow, tried to think about anything else other than how that might feel…how a man like that might be with a woman he wanted.
Hunger raced, turning into something else. Tendons tightened. My breath raced. I swallowed, and then swallowed again. I tried to focus on something else, something other than my heartsblood racing through his veins…so close…so fucking close.
The throb of life inside the Guardian’s chest echoed in mine. I was dragged back to that moment where my energy surged through his veins. Flames beckoned, calling…whispering, urging me closer.
My knuckles popped under the strain as I fought the wheel. The Guardian cleared his throat and turned to stare out of the window. Jesus, I could map the inches between his body and mine…just a fraction. All I needed was to reach out, to trace my fingers along his arm. I could almost feel the electricity, and those flames reached a little deeper, sending a lick between my thighs.
A thousand years.
He found the grab handle above his head and held on. I glanced to the road, but then turned my head. The muscles of his jaw flared. I wanted to feel those muscles, wanted to touch those lips and graze my fingers through his beard.
I wanted to feel…and the Guardian made me feel.
Something more than hate and rage…he made me hungry. Eyes on the road, Amaris…focus. But it wasn’t my stomach that howled with need. The blade at my hip hummed with power as Bastian shifted in his seat and slowly adjusted his jeans.
He had secrets, that was all I knew. Couldn’t trust. Not him…not yet. I smacked the indicator and swung right, follow
ing Anzu way all the way past the busy streets. Amber lights blinked overhead from the streetlights. Hell’s Gate was dangerous, consuming more than bitumen and buildings.
I slowed, creeping past grocery shops and the residential streets and worked my way into the heart of the city. All these people…they stared ahead with dazed expressions. This wasn’t the same city I knew, not anymore…and it hadn’t been—not since my mom died.
Pain swallowed desire, snuffing that flame in the blink of an eye. I swung the wheel, spearing off the main streets to Forcas Avenue.
“I remember this place, you know…when a Queen ruled.”
His voice invaded. I nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured.
And I was back there, shoving that needle right into the center of my heart all over again. The pain was cruel and biting, stealing me from the hate…and the edge. I needed that edge, needed it like the air in my lungs. “Yeah, well, let’s just say Blaze won’t be on the throne long enough to warm the fucking seat.”
Bastian nodded. “Good. This place needs a woman’s touch.”
And it did… but it wouldn’t be my touch—didn’t he understand that?
No. No he didn’t. Blaze filled my mind and like the strike of a match the rage returned. I swung the car down a side street, and then another, working my way toward the dead zone. The bitter scent of sulphur pinched the nerves in my nose. I winced, dragged the stench deep, slowed the car to a crawl, and turned onto the small dead-end street.
I took one look into the rearview mirror and stopped the Jeep close to the massive garage doors. The place was quiet, too damn quiet. Old bastard was probably on a bender. Food, scotch. Parry was right—he was a glutton, drinking himself into a stupor. I walked up to the smaller door and punched in the code. The lock snapped open, leaving me to bore down on the handle.
The heavy stench of grease dust was a rag down my throat. I licked my lips and stepped into the gloom. “Hey, Motor!”
There was no answer. I glanced to the office and then to the door marked Private. Parry was right, it wasn’t unusual…I swallowed as the hair stood on my arms. Heavy footsteps mirrored mine. I glanced to the Guardian, finding violet and red flames in his eyes.
