She just had to pray the Monsters clan would grant her that sanctuary. More importantly, she had to pray they would be willing to let her in on the Apex case. Otherwise, nothing she was doing would be worth it.
Even through her closed eyes, the world tipped on its axis. Angel’s body flushed hot and cold, and a ringing erupted in her ears.
It doesn’t matter, she thought hopelessly as she let go of the steering wheel because her grip was growing too weak. Her entire body felt too light. I won’t last that long.
It was Dmitri who’d done this to her. Fifteen years ago on that night. According to the sovereign-appointed doctors who tended to her after the attack, her healing magic had gone into overdrive when Dmitri began draining her – and something happened.
They likened it to her immune system overreacting, attacking something benign within her in order to protect itself. In this case, it attacked the iron in her body.
Now when things grew rough for Angel, when she was stressed physically or mentally, the iron slowly dissipated from her blood. It was magically removed by the healer in her. The consequences were rather devastating.
The doctors had attempted to give her affliction a name, but she’d told them to just “fucking call it magic anemia.” She’d been so pissed when they told her what happened, what Dmitri had done. Because of him, she’d lost control over yet another aspect of her life.
Now she was different, but as was so often the case she’d grown accustomed to it. She took a daily “supplement” for this unique ailment. The supplements were created for her by warlocks. If she hadn’t been a warden, she never would have been able to afford them. Fortunately, the sovereigns supplied them to her for free.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have any right now and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. They were preventative, not curative. She’d had a few similar episodes in the past, moments where she’d burned too quickly through her energy on an intense job and felt a fainting spell coming on. But she’d always dealt with it. And more importantly, she’d had time to deal with it, by eating, drinking, chewing iron tablets, and resting.
This was hitting her harder and faster than ever before. And she had a feeling she knew why. The dreams, the feelings of being watched, the voices in her head. It was him again. Her body remembered him.
Angel held back a sob. Her legs were tingling terribly, her heart was dancing painfully, and she was freezing. Shaking. Dying.
“Oh gods,” she whispered miserably. The reality of her impending doom struck her like a dire werewolf’s backhand. This was it. This was really the end.
As the world tunneled around her, she saw flashes of her recent life, random but clear. She heard sounds, even more random. She smelled things too, like leather. She tasted coffee. Strangely enough, though, she felt absolutely nothing. She was physically numb, floating, and insubstantial.
She heard the theme song from Scooby Doo; she’d been watching it when she couldn’t sleep the other night. She heard a motorcycle, distant but distinguishable. She saw Gabriel, Cass and Elena. She saw her Jeep and a white wolf. She saw the tunnel closing. And just before it did, she saw jade green eyes, so fiercely beautiful, so very sharp as they forged their way into her soul.
“Jake….” It came out as a whisper, her final spoken word.
Darius, she thought as a stubborn last resort. Please help me….
As darkness surrounded her, she sensed a powerful presence. She heard the Jeep door open and felt herself being pulled into warm, strong arms. The numbness receded in that embrace, and she felt protected. She wanted to speak, to give voice to what was wrong.
But unconsciousness would not be denied. It claimed her like it was piss drunk on New Year’s Eve, 1999.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jacob Crow studied the electronic pad in his hand as he entered the safe house living room, sat down on the couch, and braced a boot on the coffee table in front of him. It was the job that had just come down from Cain. A rogue Apex running rampant through the City by the Bay.
The pad screen displayed a map allocated with seven red “X” marks that formed a perfect circle across part of the city of San Francisco. Five of the marks were in the Vega clan’s province, and two of them were in his. The last two.
It was exceedingly fortunate. The Storyteller must have been on his side for once. Because at the center of that circle was the residence of the Vega clan’s second-in-command, Angela Clemens.
Jake wasn’t stupid; he knew she was the target. Angel was special. She was beautiful, smart, strong, and magically inclined in the rarest of ways. The Apex was watching her. After all, Jake had been watching her too. She wore her wards strong, and Dave had been right; she kept her guard up to an OCD level, but she was getting weary. In that weariness, she was slipping up, displaying moments of weakness.
Like her night out with her friends. She’d been wide open to him. He’d been able to read every surface thought she had, and though he’d been happy about it at the time, in the end it troubled him. She was a pro; why had she been so careless?
Something was wrong. His instincts had never failed him. He could sense trouble around Angel in the wind. Something wanted her. Something other than him. And it was haunting her.
Jake had come to a decision. Angel was called in on the same big job as every other available warden that night. So, he was able to keep an eye on her while she fought in that forest. But as soon as the fight was over, she headed home. And he turned to the Monsters.
They’d all been more or less keeping tabs on her for weeks, from the moment they’d found out she was special to him. That was just what they did for each another; it went without saying. But he amped up her protection after that night at the cafe. Now there was always at least one of them with visuals on her.
And a few of them had sensed the danger around her too. It was impossible to pin-point, and nothing ever happened. But it was like feeling a storm on the wind, being able to smell it coming.
Now Jake knew why.
He frowned at the information in his hand. The fact that the Apex hadn’t yet attacked or killed Angel meant he had something much different in mind. Apex weren’t known for their discretion. It took serious amounts of control to rein in that kind of crazy potency; only a few circumstances made it possible. One, it had to be worth it to the Apex for him to hold back on his main mark this long while killing all around her. And two, the Apex had to be very old. Control that strong only came with centuries of practice.
Jake was grateful as hell the last two victims were in his territory, landing this job in his lap. Something big and bad was targeting his girl. You couldn’t ask a man to stand down in a situation like that.
She’s not your girl, Jake, his conscience reminded him.
Oh yeah? Just wait, he ruthlessly shot back.
Jake had only been seated and studying the job for a few minutes when he heard a few of his MC brothers come in through the garage door of the Monsters safe house. Most of them stayed in the garage, but one continued on through the kitchen door to enter the living room.
James Killian stopped there and addressed Jake. “She’s gone rabbit, Crow.”
Jake’s body went stiff. He looked up.
Killian’s storm gray eyes looked serious as he re-pocketed his phone. “Clemens has left the Vega district,” he explained. “She fled from Santiago and was spotted crossing our border on the east side two minutes ago.” He paused meaningfully. “Obviously we let her come.”
In his true form, Killian’s eyes would lighten to nearly white and start glowing. But Jake’s went red – and that’s what they did now. His brothers knew how he felt about Angela Clemens, so not only would they have let her come, they would have helped her if needed.
“She stopped her vehicle a few blocks in, and hasn’t gotten out,” said Killian.
Jake ran that over in his head, but all he could hear was that she’d been running from Gabriel Santiago. “Why was she running from him?” He was una
ble to keep the growl from his question. He was standing and didn’t remember getting to his feet.
Killian raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t know, Jake. The Vega safe house is too warded for Dave to get any video from inside, and you know it’s sound proofed like all our houses. But once she left the building, it was clear no one had physically harmed her. She was just in a big hurry.”
Jake forced himself to calm down. She was safe. Whatever the reason, she was on his turf now.
“But we do have a problem,” continued Killian carefully, his tone even as if he were speaking to an unpredictable beast. “Nate and Val have eyes on her, and both of ‘em can tell she’s not doing well.”
“How?”
“Something about her blood.” He shook his head. He didn’t know.
Jake felt his teeth lengthen. He tried to push them back in, but they refused to go. “There’s not enough iron in it,” he said between those fangs. “She’s got some kind of anemia.”
She’d no doubt left all of her medications on the other side of that warden line when she’d run. What could make her leave in such a rash hurry?
“What the fuck did he do to her?” It took a second for Jake to realize he was now standing only a foot away from Killian. He’d paced across the room without realizing it. “Shit.” He ran a tense hand through his hair, focusing hard and fast.
Angel needed help. There was a store of every pharmaceutical known to man inside of every warden safe house. The Monsters clan stash was in the lowest level of the bunker. It was never touched; the Monsters clan members never needed medicine. Not the mortal kind. But they had it on hand anyway for others.
Not that it mattered. Any pill he had to force down her throat would take too long to work if she was in a bad way. There was really only one solution. It would throw everything to Hell, and the charade would be up then and there, but he would deal with that later.
He could feel Killian’s eyes on him as Jake rapidly brushed past him to grab his jacket from the open kitchen bar. But as he exited the kitchen door and entered the garage, Killian called out behind him. “Jake, hold up! You’re gonna scare the crap out of her looking like that!”
Jake could hear the urgency in his clan brother’s voice, so just before he reached his bike, he stopped. He felt time pressing in on him. But he also felt his eyes burning fiery red, and he felt his fangs fully lengthened, and he knew Killian was right. He glanced back at the man.
Killian shook his head. Jake was going full monster. It was bad enough he was going to make Angel take his blood. If she saw him like this?
Killian’s phone beeped. He pulled it back out, looked from Jake to the phone, and silently read the message. When he was finished, he tapped a few times and held the phone up for Jake to see. The screen displayed a text, and thanks to Jake’s vampire sight, he could read it even from across the garage.
Cain: “I’m taking care of this.”
Jake’s guts filled with a heady mixture of relief and dread. His entire body was on red alert. When Cain felt the need to get involved in something, it usually meant things were even more serious than any of them thought. The text moved up a slot as a second message came in. Jake read that one too.
Cain: “Tell Crow to meet me at my place in ten with Angel’s things.”
Cain knew him well. And as always, he was on top of the situation, even from a distance.
A third message appeared.
“Also tell him to calm the fuck down. His girl is in good hands. He’s probably in kill mode right now, and that won’t win her over.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cain could smell her blood from a block away. He could smell everyone’s blood at a distance if he wanted, but Angel’s blood was special. She was a healer, and that magic in her veins pinpointed her location for him like a beacon on a stormy sea.
When he reached her vehicle, she was slipping into unconsciousness. He could hear her heart; the pulse was erratic and faint, fast and highly unsteady. Her organs were shutting down, and her heart worked desperately to keep them going. But it was losing the battle.
He opened the Jeep’s door and gently pulled her into his arms. He knew what he had to do. He’d known before he’d even found her, and he had to do it quick, because he’d heard her mentally call out for her sentinel, and he had little doubt the protector was on his way.
“Excuse me,” came a deep voice behind him, on cue.
Cain turned a little and glanced over his broad shoulder to find the sentinel standing a few feet away. He looked very familiar to Cain. The man’s expression was dour, and his orange eyes burned. They really were orange, like the middle part of a candle flame.
“May I ask where you’re going with my warden?”
Cain gritted his teeth behind his calm façade. He hated wasting time, especially when there was no time to waste. But if Darius really wanted to, he could very well stop Cain. Sentinels were at the top of the food chain in a manner of speaking; no supernatural creature could hurt them and no warden could hurt them, and Cain was both. “I’m guessing you’re Darius.” Then his gaze narrowed on the man. He suddenly realized where he recognized him from. He looked exactly like the sentinel of… someone he knew very well, someone from another lifetime.
“Are you Ashrim’s twin?”
Darius didn’t respond. His gaze was focused solely on Angel, and it was clear he was losing patience.
“Got it,” said Cain. He nudged the door of the Jeep shut with his knee and strode around Darius, keeping Angel gripped tight to his chest. He had a feeling this might not end well. It all depended on how possessive or protective Angel’s sentinel was. And if Cain had been her sentinel, he would have been very protective indeed. So he threw in a little honey to sweeten the pot. “I’m not here to hurt her,” he told Darius frankly. “I’m here to help.”
He left it at that. Either the man would believe him or he wouldn’t, but Cain didn’t have any more time to waste worrying about it. He carried Angel to the sidewalk. He half expected the sentinel to rip her away from him at any second – but it never happened.
Instead, Darius was waiting for him on the sidewalk when Cain got there. Sentinels could pop in and out of existence in a blink, so Cain wasn’t surprised. He joined him, “Hold her for me,” Cain instructed. “I don’t want her on this ground; it’s filthy.” Plus, that would give Darius recognizable control over the situation. His precious warden would literally be in his grasp.
Darius nodded, gently taking Angel from his arms. “You’re going to give her your blood.” His expression was dark, his eyes troubled. Darius the sentinel was definitely Ashrim’s twin. Cain and Ash went way back. And that meant Darius probably knew who and what Cain really was.
Cain nodded. “Right now, it’s pretty much our only shot.”
He could tell Darius was concerned, and for good reason. Cain’s blood was for lack of a better word, tainted. But the wrongness in Angel was taking her over. There wasn’t a thing in the world a doctor could do at this point to save her, nor were the warlocks’ supplements she took every morning going to help her. She’d grown increasingly enervated over the last few weeks, and her flight from Santiago had stressed her system to its limit, pushing her over the edge.
He could scent that the iron in her blood was all but entirely gone; her veins pumped blue beneath her skin, giving her a strange, ethereal pallor. Ancient and dark magic was at work on her at a cellular level. It was going to take equally ancient and dark magic to reverse it.
“This ride’ll get bumpy,” Cain warned. He met Darius’s gaze and held it meaningfully. Darius nodded. The sentinel knelt on the sidewalk, sitting Angel’s limp form on his knee so the blood would glide down her throat. Her head rested on his shoulder while he wrapped both of his strong arms around her body, trapping her arms at her sides.
Cain exposed his long, sharp fangs and bit down hard into his wrist; blood welled fast from the vein. He pulled his fangs free and shoved a hand through Ang
el’s hair to grasp her head and hold it still. Then he pressed his wrist to her lips. She was unconscious, so his command was going to have to go deep.
He closed his eyes and focused on the fading presence of her spirit. It was a tiny candle’s flame on a dark, windy night, but he found it and zeroed in. Then he issued his command, strengthening it with a heady dose of mind control.
Drink.
At once, Angel’s lips parted. His powerful blood welled into her mouth, and she swallowed. If she’d been conscious, it would have burned like acid going down, stronger than Spirytus. But she was well under. Her body had been well on its way to a complete shut down. So she drank without coughing, flinching, or pulling away.
But they weren’t out of the woods yet. The hard part was coming.
He knew his blood had reached her heart when her eyes suddenly flew open, and she arched her back, bucking violently in her sentinel’s strong grip. The change was sudden and extreme. But Cain didn’t have to remind Darius to hold on tight; sentinels had by default been around the block a few times.
Cain held his wrist firmly in place until he felt she’d taken enough to negate the damage. Then he pulled away. His wound closed at once.
“It’s working,” Darius whispered. He held Angel lovingly. His vivid eyes watched as the blue-gray pallor of her skin slowly shifted into a healthy glow. Her brown eyes flashed once with unearthly light, the vampire blood in her veins changing them to gold. Then they fluttered closed, and she settled down in her sentinel’s arms.
Cain listened to her heart. The erratic pulse evened out to become stronger. He could smell the iron in her blood being replaced. It worked.
Thank the Storyteller.
Cain stood up. Darius followed suit, gripping the now sleeping but healthy Angel to his chest. “Don’t take her back into Vega territory tonight,” said Cain. This, he was prepared to go to blows over if he needed to. Angel was Jake’s girl, and she’d run from Santiago for a reason. Until he knew what that reason was and dealt with it, he was officially granting her sanctuary. “I have a place she can stay.”
Monsters, Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed Page 14
