Every time he reviewed his first meeting with Celeste, he grew more certain the figure he'd seen skulking in the woods had been Blake. Years, he'd been hunting for Blake. Since the day Gabe had figured out the Warder was responsible for Daniel's destruction, Blake had been living under a death warrant.
A carefully hidden part of Gabe was lost without his younger brother. He suspected he always would be. That space inside him would never be filled. Warder parents weren't known for being attentive to their offspring. Especially the soldiers. So it wasn't unusual when their parents had dropped them off at the Academy and never returned. Gabe had been two and a half, Daniel six months. They'd never seen their mother and father again. He didn't know if they were alive or dead. He didn't care.
Scared by his new surroundings, the young Gabriel clung to his baby brother. As they settled into life in the Academy, he'd rarely left Daniel's side. They'd been a pair—Daniel's lighthearted nature a counterpoint to Gabe's quiet, serious personality. As adults they'd both become soldiers, always posted together. When Gabe transferred into the Sicari, they'd remained close.
Since the day Daniel began to change, Gabe had felt unbalanced, the darkness inside him slowly taking over, weighing him down. He'd needed his brother's smiles, his easy way with people, just as Daniel had needed Gabe's drive to keep him focused. Gabe knew his life had narrowed too much since Daniel's death. Vengeance drove him forward. Vengeance was his reason for waking in the morning, for eating, sleeping, continuing to live. His most secret self wondered if the mission was enough. So he killed Blake and stopped him infecting others—what then? Go after the next one? And the next? What else did he care about anymore?
A voice in his head whispered, "Celeste." No. No way. She knew the score. They'd had sex. Fucked. That's all. It could never be more. Gravel crunched under his feet. The cold damp air spoke of rain, or an early spring snowfall. Lost in his thoughts, he'd traveled past Celeste's winding lane onto the uneven mountain road. His long stride had covered at least a mile. A few more and he'd reach the turnoff where he'd parked his truck the day before. If not for Blake, he'd start it up and drive away from this whole mess.
Gabe had no idea where he was going, but he'd answered one question. Distance had little effect on the bond with Celeste. His sense of her dimmed when they stopped touching. Gabe had hoped that if he just got away from her, it would fade entirely. Instead, the connection held. She lingered, her warm, tingling energy insinuated under his skin, into his blood and bones. Gabe didn't even know where to begin to root it out.
He growled with frustration. He couldn't live his life this way, tied to a woman he barely knew. To a Shadow. She was trapped on this mountain. He roamed most of North America in pursuit of his duty. When he killed Blake, he'd continue to search for the leader, for other infected Warders. No way Blake—lazy, resentful Blake—was the mastermind behind infecting Daniel and the others. Blake had to be a small cog in a much bigger wheel. Gabe planned to crush it. The Directorate dismissed Daniel and Blake as rogues. Denied that infection was possible. Fine, let them bury their heads in the sand. Gabe knew what he had to do. He had no time to deal with Celeste.
A tendril of unease wove through his distracted thoughts. Gabe slowed and quieted his steps, listening to the woods. Soft cracks of trees settling. Dead leaves rustled in the light curls of wind. Nothing that shouldn't be there. He was alone on the mountain road. Cautious, he resumed his former pace. He wasn't ready to go back yet. Didn't know what to say to her. Get your energy out of me? Let me keep fucking you while I'm here, but keep your soul to yourself?
Whatever caused their odd bond, Gabe didn't think Celeste had planned it any more than he had. Logically, he should talk to her about it. Find out if she had any idea how to stop it. He was leaving in a few days. She couldn't want to be tied to a man she'd never see again.
Abruptly, his sense of disquiet shifted into a bolt of alarm. Anxiety seized his chest. Gabe stopped in his tracks. The woods remained still. Undisturbed. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He resumed his pace, taking three steps before realization washed over him in an icy rush. This panic wasn't his. It belonged to Celeste. He'd left her alone, and she was afraid. Thoughts spun in his brain. Blake had seen them together. Gabe hadn't locked the door. Celeste was vulnerable. He'd endangered her, then abandoned her. No time for guilt, Gabe turned and raced back to the tower, his reservations drowned by the next wave of fear.
***
Fitz growled, the low sound rumbling up the stairs to Celeste's room. Groggy, she opened her eyes. Another growl and a deep thump as the big dog leapt to his feet. Celeste jerked to a sitting position, her body in gear before her brain. She was on her feet, scrambling for the clothes Gabe had dropped on the floor before she registered that he'd disappeared. She froze. Was Fitz growling at Gabe? Her jeans halfway up her thighs, shirt in hand, she listened.
No. Fitz was on full alert. And Gabe was nowhere to be seen. Uneasy, Celeste pulled the shirt over her head, forcing her arms through the sleeves. She had one weapon up here. One. She grabbed the short knife on the run, stopping only to pull an elastic band from the dresser. Holding the knife in her teeth, she wound her long, damp hair into a tight knot. With a curse for her missing shoes, and her habit of keeping her weapons in a trunk in the kitchen, Celeste ran down the stairs, eyes on Fitz.
Fitz stood before the thick, unlocked door, trembling with aggression. With a sinking heart, Celeste realized they hadn't secured the tower the night before. Since she'd discovered the Vorati in the mountains, she'd been closing the strong interior shutters on the first floor and bolting both doors every night. Sealed shut, the tower wasn't impregnable, but it was a lot easier to defend. Earlier, she'd been so distracted by Gabe, she'd forgotten. Stupid. And he'd left her. Whatever their weird connection, it told her Gabe was nowhere nearby. Asshole. Funny how men were men—Warder, Shadow or human. Did demon men fuck demon females and then take off in the middle of the night? Probably.
The door crashed in, swinging back so hard the iron handle tore a chunk of plaster from the wall. Fitz leapt at the first intruder, taking the tall figure to the ground. Her loyal dog savaged the demon on the floor, years of training driving Fitz to sever the neck, tearing the head from the body. Without a calix, it was the sole reliable way to kill an infected body. It didn't trap the demon, but in an emergency, it lowered enemy numbers.
A second and third intruder passed through the door, splitting up to circle their fallen comrade. Vorati. How many, Celeste couldn't tell. Stomach twisting in fear, she tried to think. Her weapons were behind her, beside the back door with her boots and coats. She'd never needed them inside, only when she patrolled the mountain. Standing there, with the short-bladed knife in her hand, Celeste realized how stupid it had been to assume she was safe in her home. A fourth Vorati entered, this one female. It joined the other two. Just outside the door, a fifth demon hovered.
Her fighting skills were good for a healer. Not good enough. She and Fitz couldn't take four of them. Not on their own, trapped inside the tower. If they'd been outside, they could have run. Hidden. If she could get to the kitchen door—
She eased backwards. The four Vorati arranged themselves in a loose semicircle, watching her, ignoring Fitz as he finished with his prey. An oily red cloud drifted up from the dead body. It lingered in the air for a few moments before easing out the open door. The demon infecting Fitz's kill. Without a calix, it would get away. Celeste didn't have time to care.
The Vorati barely noticed their companion float away. Still circling her, they didn't attack. They watched. That terrified her more than if they'd all leapt at her. She continued to creep backwards, wondering what they were thinking. They could see her retreat. But they continued to hold their positions, waiting and watching. A small surge of hope rose. With every shuffling step in reverse, she was closer to her weapons. She might not make it out the door, but another knife would help. Anything would help.
Almost too late
, Celeste realized her mistake. The odd, electrical hum of a Voratus vibrated in the air behind her. The back door. She thought Gabe locked it after he let Fitz in before dinner. Clearly not. She was surrounded, with nothing more than one knife and her dog. Snapping her fingers at her side, she called Fitz to her. He left his kill, reaching her in one long bound, gray muzzle stained red. His big body circling her as if to protect her from all sides, Fitz growled at the threat. The Voratus behind her held his position. Celeste understood what they were doing.
They were feeding from her. Sipping her fear like fine wine. Revulsion shuddered through her. Bad enough that they would kill her, they were feeding from her first? Of course they were. They were Vorati. And they wouldn't kill her, they'd take her alive. Gabe had been right, they could live off her fear and pain for years. No one would even notice she'd vanished until next month. Heavy resolve filtered through her. This was it. She wouldn't let them take her. She'd fight with everything she had, force them to kill her. Death was far better than life as their captive.
"Shadow," she heard from behind her. "Gabriel left you. You're on your own."
Celeste didn't answer. Instead, she turned her head to meet its eyes. It was closer than she'd thought. Just a few feet behind her. Instinct told her to step out of reach. She didn't move. Flight from this one brought her closer to the other three.
The Voratus who spoke didn't look like the others. They were tall and slender. Almost skinny. Same build, same washed out blond hair. The demon behind her was shorter. Medium height for a male. Medium build. Brown hair, neither dark nor light. Hard to tell his eye color. Brown. Or hazel. Before his infection he'd been the type of man to disappear in a crowd. A man you'd forget the instant he left your sight. Even infected, he didn't give off the same buzz she normally got from Vorati.
His aura, which should have been a deep red, seemed faint. It didn't match the strong sense of menace she was getting. Nothing about this demon added up. He took a step closer. Celeste held her ground. Fitz growled, so close to her he stood on her toes. She dropped her free hand to stroke his back.
Suddenly, she was more afraid for her dog than for herself. Fitz was strong. Aggressive when he needed to be. But it was five against two. Her constant companion for the past forty years of life on this mountain and she'd put him in mortal danger by forgetting to lock the doors. And by going after the demons in the first place. If they both died here, it would be her fault. Sinking her fingers into the thick, wiry fur on Fitz's back, Celeste rubbed his tense muscles. His body vibrated with the need to attack. She held him back, waiting.
Not for rescue. Gabe was gone. No one would be coming for them. But she knew the second Fitz jumped, the moment she made a move, all hell would break loose and death would come barreling at her like a freight train. Just a few more minutes. A few more deep breaths before the beginning of the end. Her lungs filled, then emptied. She tried to clear her mind. If she was going to die, at least she'd had sex first. Amazing, crazy, mind-blowing sex. With an asshole who'd walked out and left the door open to a demon attack. But still, the orgasms counted for something. The absurdity of the situation hit her and she laughed.
As if the sound of her laughter was a starter pistol, everyone moved. The demon in front of her lunged, arms reaching. Fitz shoved her to the side, momentarily out of reach of the Vorati behind her. His big, muscular body hit the Vorati with force, knocking it to its back. Celeste wanted to go to his aid, sensing that the Vorati he fought was the most dangerous in the room. She turned in their direction and caught a glimpse of Fitz baring his sharp teeth, the glint of a knife, before hands on her left arm spun her back to the front of the room. A second Vorati grabbed her right arm. Celeste tried to marshal her limited telekinetic abilities to push her attackers away. Her focus scattered, she couldn't manage more than making one of them stumble. The female demon, long, pale, hair hanging in dirty strings, moved forward, getting right in her face. It gripped the back of her neck, pulling Celeste's head close.
"He promised us we could keep you," it whispered into Celeste's ear. Its breath reeked of rotten meat. Celeste flinched. "We have plans for you." It licked her cheeks, tongue stinking and wet.
Forget that. These foul things were not taking her. Struggling would escalate the situation further and she had very little defense. Her small knife wouldn't be enough. Never strong under the best circumstances, her Tk was close to useless, dampened by panic. Celeste closed her eyes, blocking everything out. The thumps and grunts of the demon wrestling with Fitz. The hands on her arms. The demon's grip on her neck. Celeste sent her senses out, seeking. Searching for anything that might give her an advantage, a way out.
At first, the energy she touched was normal. The warm, familiar energy of Fitz, the grating, discordant buzz of the Vorati. If she could use their energy as a weapon, she might have something. But Vorati energy was poison to a Shadow. She could use them to kill herself if it came to that.
Then, she found it. A faint hum, coming from the back pocket of the Voratus holding her left arm. Probably a cell phone. It felt different than any electrical device had before. Usually, anything with electrical current surged at her, overwhelming her senses before she could gain control, burning out in a flash of smoke and heat. This time, the current pulsed gently, as if seeking her. Celeste turned her mind to the current, absorbing the crackle of power as she worked her way around it. It wanted her, wanted her guidance. Celeste, not certain what she was doing, drew the power from the phone into a line of current, pulling it up through the demon's body.
To her shock, the electricity obeyed perfectly. When the charge hit the Vorati's heart, Celeste held it there. The demon seized, then convulsed so hard its grip on Celeste shook her back and forth, dragging the female Voratus with her. The female released her neck in surprise.
The electricity wanted to spread to Celeste. Whether it was her Shadow power pulling it or the natural inclination of electricity to follow the most conductive path, Celeste didn't know. When she was sure the Voratus's heart had toasted beyond healing, she let the electricity flow into her body.
The dead Voratus hit the wooden floor in a graceless thump. The other two looked on in shock. Taking advantage of their distraction, Celeste reached for the female beside her. She smacked a hand on either side of its head, directing the current into the demon's brain. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the demon burn that closely. Smelling it was bad enough. The body between her palms trembled, then fell still. The current faded, dissipated into the dead demon's body.
Celeste had no idea what happened to the current. Maybe she'd used it up. There couldn't be that much charge in a phone. She thought she'd somehow augmented it with the earth energy around her, but she didn't know how. If she had more time, or experience, she might have known how to make it last longer. At the moment, that didn't matter much. She barely noticed the red cloud of Vorati spirit rising from the two she'd killed. She had one demon ready to grab her and another fighting Fitz. Better odds, but not a victory. If she was lucky, there would be time later to think about her new control of electricity. First, there were two demons to kill. She drew her knife and advanced toward the demon who'd been holding her right arm. A high pitched yelp distracted her.
Whirling, she watched in horror as Fitz's Voratus sank its long knife into her dog's side. She lunged for them, only to be jerked back by the demon behind her. It wrapped its arm around her neck, pinning her in position facing Fitz. She kicked, flailed, tried to slam the back of her head into its nose, all in vain. Steely arms kept her immobile, forced her to watch the other Voratus, grinning with glee, as it gutted Fitzwilliam. Her dog looked at her, his dark, sweet, eyes meeting hers. Love and apology shone through. Celeste's legs went weak. Fitz. The Voratus released her. She collapsed to the floor.
All sense of self-preservation fled Celeste. She scrambled for Fitz, the knees of her jeans soaking up the growing pool of his blood. Desperate to get her hands on him, she reached him in seconds. Th
e wound gaped, blood and organs spilling out. Frantic, Celeste tried to pull the edges together, to ignite some spark of his energy to start the healing. Still as a sculpture, his big body was already cooling. There had to be some tiny bit of life. She couldn't heal the dead.
There was nothing. Fitz was gone. Celeste was aware of the demons hovering, drinking in her pain. She didn't care. Didn't want to get up. Everything narrowed to Fitz, her best friend and only companion. She'd brought death to their home and he'd given his life to save hers. Curling up against his long body, in the same position they'd often lie in on their big couch, Celeste held her dog, tears dripping into his bloody fur.
Chapter Nine
Gabe’s feet pounded down the gravel drive. He'd never run this fast. Was it adrenaline fueled by panic, or could he really be faster today than he'd been the day before? His sense of Celeste, so far restrained to anxiety, then fear, exploded in a blast of sheer anguish. It was torture to feel her pain yet not know what was happening to her.
A second later the tower came into sight. The heavy front door hung open, light spilling into the dark night. The door. The dense ball of guilt in Gabe's chest grew heavier. How could he have left the door unbolted? He was a soldier, not a child. A Sicarius. He knew better than to leave a building unsecured. Not only had he left Celeste undefended, he'd left her exposed. Real fear, icy and metallic, cut through him. If the Vorati had taken her—
Forcing back worry and guilt, Gabe drew his long, bladed knife and approached the door. Blood splattered every surface. A dead body lay in a pool of red on the floor in the entry, its head several feet from its torso. From the jagged neck, Fitz's kill. Two other bodies with no visible wounds lay nearby.
The great-room reeked of blood and burnt flesh. An oily red cloud of Vorati spirit lingered near the open door, as if the demon hadn't decided to stay or go. Gabe hovered just outside the door, trying to locate Celeste. The moment her saw her on the floor, soaked in blood and wrapped around Fitz, he was certain she was dead. Rage tore through him, even as he realized the grief and pain he felt through their bond meant Celeste had to be alive. The gruesome wound in Fitz’s abdomen told him that Fitz, however, was not.
Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella Page 8
