Kerry rejoined her husband as two Talion guards moved up to flank them on the porch of the cabin. Despite how Ranulf physically dwarfed Kerry, Piper knew the two were equal partners. It was hard not to be a bit jealous of the happiness they had found.
“You ready?” Grey asked as he opened the passenger door of the Packard for her.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She softened the remark with a smile. “I’m terrified of the test I have this afternoon.”
Grey carefully maneuvered the Packard across the uneven ground back toward the road, stopping to speak to one of his men before continuing. Just as they reached the edge of the pavement, a wave of energy washed over them, leaving Piper dizzy and nauseated. It felt like a roller coaster ride but without the thrill.
Through clenched teeth, she asked, “What on earth was that?”
“Ranulf reinforcing his wards on the property.” Grey shot a dirty look back into the rearview mirror. “The bastard could have waited a few seconds longer until we were in the clear.”
The unsettling sensation was rapidly fading. “He’s worried about Kerry.”
“I get that,” Grey snarled. “It’s the only reason I’m not going to flatten the bugger next time I see him.”
Piper laughed. “I’d pay to see that.”
“Why? Because you don’t think I can take him?”
She studied her lover. “Actually, I think it would be an even match. He might be bigger, but I have a feeling you’d fight dirty.”
Grey looked pleased by her assessment. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but they didn’t call Viking warriors berserkers for nothing. I might hold my own with Ranulf, but he hasn’t survived a thousand years by losing many battles.”
She reached over to squeeze Grey’s bicep, not that she wasn’t already intimately acquainted with every bit of the man’s incredible body. “I’m still betting on you.”
“Thanks, luv,” he laughed.
Piper smiled back at her lover and settled back to enjoy the ride.
Time was passing too quickly as they barreled down the mountain back to civilization. At that thought, her stomach cramped into a painful knot. She’d lied to Grey. Her history final was small potatoes compared to what he would be facing.
It was only because she knew him so well that she could sense his growing tension. Grey might be calm, but he definitely wasn’t relaxed.
“So tell me, how bad is this going to be?”
His knuckles whitened as they grasped the steering wheel. “It all depends.”
“On what?”
“On how fucking crazy Adele, her father, and whoever is helping them are. You can depend on warriors to keep casualties to a minimum. Fanatics, on the other hand, tend to revel in blood.”
The sick feeling was back in full force, although this time she couldn’t blame it on Ranulf’s words. One only had to watch the evening news to know that Grey was right. Considering the nutcase had already mailed them a bomb that could have gone off at any time, there was no reason to think the next attack would be less dangerous.
His hand caught hers in a tight squeeze. “I’ll be fine, Piper. We all will be.”
“You can’t know that. That bomb almost killed you.”
His eyes were alight with blue flames. “True enough, but we weren’t expecting an attack. He’ll have hard time sneaking up on any of us now that we know he’s out there.”
“He? So you think it was this Harcourt guy who sent the bomb?”
Grey shook his head. “He might be footing the bills, but the bomber had to be close by at the time, and Harcourt only just got into town. Whoever is behind this either hired local talent or brought someone in. Besides, Harcourt isn’t the type to want to get his own hands dirty.”
Unexpectedly, Grey grinned. “Unlike me. I’m a street brawler by both birth and preference. When I find the low-life bastard behind these attacks, he’s going down.”
Piper believed him. She thought back to the day they’d met. The first thing she’d noticed was his hand-tailored suit, but it hadn’t disguised his true nature at all. He was a powerful warrior and that was a good thing right now.
Still, she had to ask, “How can you be so matter of fact about all of this? You can’t possibly be happy about this mess.”
Grey drove in silence for a few seconds before answering. There was more to Piper’s question than just idle curiosity. She’d obviously picked up on his growing excitement. He could lie to her and hide his true self, but he had too much respect for her to settle for half truths.
“Moments like these are what I’ve trained for since I first found out what I was. Trust me, if Kerry wasn’t the target, Ranulf would be acting the same way. Sandor, too, although he’s had more practice at acting civilized. We are born of warrior stock.”
They were nearing Kerry’s home. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t prefer to grow old never facing another renegade in a fight to the death. Even if my target deserves to die, it leaves its mark on a man.”
She had to be wondering how many of those battles he’d already fought. The question was there in those pretty dark eyes of hers. If she had a problem with him being willing to kill to defend his people, then she’d be better off walking away now.
Piper stared out of the window. “You might not wear a uniform, but you and Ranulf and Sandor are the equivalent of the Kyth military.”
He nodded. “That and law enforcement, including judge and executioner, all rolled into one. Is that too much for you to deal with?”
Before she could answer him, he noticed the front gate was standing open. Had someone been careless or had the house been breached?
“What’s wrong, Grey?”
“Maybe nothing, but the gate’s open.” Nothing looked out of place, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Piper, lock the car doors and stay down while I check things out. Follow me when I give you the signal.”
Drawing his gun, he approached the house. Pausing at the threshold only long enough to make sure that Piper was staying put, he tried the door and found it unlocked. It hadn’t been that way when they’d left earlier. He pushed it open and eased inside.
His first impression was silence. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard, trying to pick up any heartbeats inside the house. The nearest rooms were definitely empty. He moved farther into the house, turning his head to the left and then the right, reaching out with all his senses.
There. He caught the briefest whiff of a pulse, distant and muffled by the solid walls of the house. He kept moving, finally coming to a halt at the top of the basement steps. Turning the knob slowly, he pulled the door open just enough to slip through. As soon as he did, he knew exactly who was down there.
He holstered his gun and pounded down the steps, ready to wring someone’s scruffy neck.
“Damn it, Sean, you little bugger! What’s up with leaving the gate open and the front door unlocked? Do you want to get yourself killed? Because I’m telling you right now, if the bomber doesn’t do the job, I will.”
Accompanied by a pair of Talions, Sean appeared in the door leading to the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. The three of them looked puzzled.
“What are you talking about? We haven’t gone near the front door or the gate because we’re supposed to stay out of sight. Besides, Ranulf threatened to kick my ass if I set foot out of the house before you got back. I was getting cleaned up after my workout so I could take Piper to class.”
The hair on the back of Grey’s neck stood up as a cold trickle of dread slithered through his veins. If Sean hadn’t unlocked the door, who had? And why?
He started back up the steps, slowly at first, as his mind struggled to connect all the pieces. He hated the picture forming in his head. There was only one reason someone would have left the gate standing open and that was to lure him inside, away from the car.
Away from Piper.
Bloody hell! Grey charged up the remaining steps, screaming a w
arning that Piper didn’t stand a chance of hearing from inside the Packard.
Suddenly the front door and the windows exploded inward, showering the entry hall with razor sharp fragments of glass and splintered wood. The basement door provided some protection, sheltering him and Sean from the worst of the blast, but the front rooms of the house weren’t so lucky. He’d survived the explosion, but that didn’t matter. He had to get to Piper.
Dimly aware of someone yelling, Grey stumbled past the shambles of the front hall and out to the porch. He raised his arm over his face, trying to see past the flames and the twisted metal that was all that remained of Ranulf’s beloved Packard. Running down the steps and across the lawn took only a few seconds, but he already knew it was too late.
Numb from the inside out, he stood staring at the flaming car. At all that was left of Piper Ryan.
Someone was screaming; Grey’s ears pounded. He looked around, ready to shoot the culprit if that’s what it took to make it stop. Then he realized he was alone and the agonized screams were his.
And he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Ever. He fell to his knees at the edge of Piper’s funeral pyre, not caring if he was burned, painful blisters rising on his tear-soaked cheeks. If Piper was dead, so was he. He might still breathe, but only until he found her killer.
Talions swore to serve justice on behalf of the Dame, but they also understood vengeance. An eye for an eye was what “Talion” meant. When he got his hands on the fucker who’d done this, he would shred the bastard into bloody pieces with his bare hands.
“My God. Was Piper in the car?”
Grey jerked his head in a short nod.
Sean’s young face was blank as he stared at the horror in front of them. Grey forced himself back up to his feet. To give the kid credit, he stood his ground despite Grey’s obvious rage. Ripping his shirt open, Grey pointed at the symbol burned into his skin right over his heart.
“See this, kid? Do you know what it means?” he demanded, his voice a raw growl.
Sean swallowed hard and nodded. “It’s a Thor’s Hammer like the one Ranulf wears around his neck. Sandor has a brand like yours on his arm. It’s the mark of a Talion.”
The other two Talions crowded closer, each displaying his own badge of office. Grey pointed at theirs and then back at his own, as the emblems flashed brightly.
“And you want to be one of us? Because I’m telling you right now, once you choose this path, there’s no turning back. They’ve killed Piper. They’ve drawn first blood. They will die for it. This I vow.”
The kid didn’t hesitate to join in as the other warriors echoed Grey’s words. Sean jerked himself to attention and nodded. “She was one of us. They deserve to die. This I vow.”
His voice sounded years older as he repeated the Talion oath. Grey grabbed Sean’s hand, pressing it against the emblem burned into his own skin as he concentrated his power on that one spot. Instantly, it burned as hot and painfully as it had the day he himself had been marked as one of the Dame’s own.
Sweat poured off Sean’s face as he endured the pain that would connect him, not only to the Grand Dame of the Kyth, but also to every other Talion. When the power surge ended, Grey released him. The teenager stared down at the raw burn that had appeared on his forearm, his mouth turning up in a grim smile at what his life had now become.
Finally, he lowered his arm to his side. “What do we do next?”
The sound of sirens made that decision for Grey. “We get the hell away from here before we’re tied up for hours answering questions. We’ll go out the secret route to avoid neighbors and police. Then we’ll find someplace to set up temporary headquarters and regroup.”
Once they put some distance between themselves and this clusterfuck, he’d contact Ranulf and Sandor. Then he’d gather the remaining Talions and establish a control center somewhere nearby.
“Everybody haul ass. Grab whatever gear you need from the house on the way through.”
Sean nodded and took off through the rubble. Grey stared once more at the tangled mess of metal and laid his hand over his brand again. He drew comfort from the knowledge that his was the blood of warriors. Even with his heart shattered and his soul dying, he would find the strength to end this fight once and for all.
As Chief Talion, he was sworn to bring the renegades to justice, and he would do his duty. But when the verdict was handed down by Kerry Thorsen, Grand Dame of the Kyth, Grey would carry out the executions by right of vengeance for the loss of his lover. On that day, he would look straight into their faces and let the guilty see their deaths in his eyes.
He murmured his vow one last time and then followed Sean into the house.
Sean sat in the corner of the hotel room, out of the the Talions way who’d been pouring in since Grey sent out the alarm. They setting up computers and checking their weapons. Until they gave him something else to do, he studied the stylized burn on his arm. It hurt like a bitch, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not around Grey, and especially not now. He was stunned the man could function at all. It didn’t take a genius to know that Grey had it bad for Piper.
Hell, whenever the two of them were in the same room, the temperature jumped at least twenty degrees from the looks they gave each other. It was the same way with Lena and Sandor, not to mention the Dame and her Consort. And they talk about teenagers having raging hormones!
He cringed. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. There would be no more looks for Grey and Piper. His eyes sought out the Chief Talion, watching for signs that Grey was finally going to crash and burn. Damn, that was a poor choice of words, but it had to be coming—soon.
Sean couldn’t imagine how he’d have reacted if it had been Tara in the car when it exploded. Not that Grey wasn’t suffering. He was; he had to be. Maybe it was all his training that kept him focused on the big picture.
“Hey, kid!”
Sean glanced toward the nearest Talion. Normally, he would have resented being the designated kid in the room, but now wasn’t the time to argue.
“Yeah?”
“Can you give me a hand hooking up these cables?”
“Sure thing.”
Finally, a chance to be useful. Anything was better than just sitting there wondering what happened next. Grey had already called Ranulf and given him orders to keep Kerry at the cabin. Several more Talions were about to be dispatched to stand guard.
One of the new arrivals held out his hand when Sean reached his side. “Sorry I didn’t catch your name. I’m Rolf.”
“Sean.”
Rolf spotted the raw brand on Sean’s arm and grinned. “Welcome to the club. When we go out for some food, we’ll pick up some salve for that.”
“It’s not that bad.”
Rolf laughed. “Yeah, sure, tough guy. I said the same thing when I got mine. It was a lie then and it’s a lie now. Let’s get these cables connected before Grey kicks both our asses.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Adele stood back and studied the unconscious woman they’d tossed on the bed.
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
Wes stepped closer to Adele, shaking his head. “Pretty enough, I guess, but a bit old. Nice legs, though.”
Not exactly what Adele wanted to hear, but Wes was often oblivious to such things. At first, she’d thought the woman really was the Dame. Certainly there was a superficial resemblance, which had her wondering exactly who they’d captured.
Maybe she should have gone with her first impulse and left the woman in the Packard when they’d detonated the bomb. But Wes had pointed out that a hostage had more value than a casualty. Judging by Grey Danby’s response to the explosion, Wes might be right.
Maybe. And besides, the prisoner’s status could change at the drop of a hat—or the press of a detonator.
“The purple bruise on her temple goes well with the streaks in her hair, though.” Wes winked at Adele.
“Who should we e-mail about her? It might
be fun to hear what that Danby fellow has to say. He seemed pretty broken up over her death.”
It served the blighter right. His screams had been music to her ears as she and Wes had watched the aftermath on a laptop in the safety of their car, several blocks away. Wes had positioned the cameras and microphones perfectly. The fireball had been impressive; the explosion itself reverberated through the neighborhood and rattled windows for blocks. She’d almost come from just watching the excitement.
“The show was perfect, Wes. Exactly what I had imagined.” She was in the mood for something besides talking. “Let’s celebrate first. Then we can decide what to do with—that.”
She kissed her lover, well aware that their captive was starting to stir. That the woman might wake up enough to watch only added to Adele’s pleasure. It might be different if she lived long enough to talk about it. After all, the future Dame shouldn’t have a reputation for being a slut. But neither their guest nor Wes would be around to gossip.
She eased his zipper down, slipping her hand inside those tacky cotton boxers he liked. Silk would show so much more class. He groaned and thrust his cock more firmly against her hand.
Then he gently pushed down on her shoulders. “Down on your knees, sweetheart. Use that talented mouth to show me some gratitude.”
How dare he? When she resisted, he shoved her down to the floor. “Now.”
Before she reacted, someone pounded on the door. Just that quickly, the mood dissipated, and for the first time, Adele tasted fear. Wes yanked her to her feet, fastening his pants on his way through the living room.
“Who could it be? We’ve been so careful.”
Wes shot her a disgusted look. “Only one way to find out, luv. Open the fuckin’ door.”
Orders again. For now, she’d let it slide, especially since he suddenly had a rather impressive gun in his hand. Another frisson of heat settled in the core of her body. She hoped whoever was at the door didn’t stay long.
After waiting until Wes positioned himself for a clear shot, she kept the door between herself and the intruder as she turned the handle.
Dark Warrior Untamed Page 22
