Toronto wasn’t hanging around—one small favor, at least. Dominic’s mood was pushing toxic and if he had to listen to the werewolf’s wisecracks for too long, he’d lose his own damn temper.
That wouldn’t help things at all. Physically, he was strong and could hold his own against non-masters.
But if he went after a Master werewolf, he’d be doing the same thing he did when he sparred with Rafe—wiping his own blood off the floor.
Nope. Wouldn’t help. Although a good, vicious fight . . .
“You know, I don’t bite.”
Dominic slanted a look at the witch. She looked like a schoolteacher, he decided. He’d met her once or twice, but hadn’t ever seen her for more than a few minutes. She had strawberry blond hair, big hazel eyes and freckles sprinkled across her nose. She’d be the kind of teacher half the boys had a crush on, and the girls would love her, too. She just had that way about her.
Right now, she was smiling a little, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she drove the sleek little Mustang down the road. Her brow arched and he remembered—she’d said something.
Oh, yeah. He remembered now.
But he didn’t how to respond to her comment, so he just shrugged.
Kelsey sighed. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you that you aren’t going crazy?”
“It might.” Cautiously, he shifted in the bucket seat, studying her profile. “You think you’ll be able to tell me that?”
“Oh, I can already tell you that.” Kelsey shot him another smile and then hit her blinker. As she slowed the car down for the turn, she shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on and Rafe wasn’t able to tell me much . . . probably because you weren’t telling him much. But it seems his main concern is you—because you think you might be losing your mind. He says you aren’t. I agree with him. So does that make you feel better?”
Dominic scowled. “You don’t even know the kind of shit going on inside my head. There’s no way you can know.”
“You haven’t been around witches much.” She sighed. “That’s fine. But yes, Dom, I can tell. All I had to do was look at you when you got off the plane. I’m a witch and I’ve got healer tendencies. I know madness, I know insanity. Whether it’s organic, or induced by magic or trauma, I know it. You’re not losing your mind. Which is good, because I really don’t need another tetched Hunter running around.”
“Another?”
She scowled and arrowed the car into a parking space, slamming on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting the curb. The serene smile on her face was gone, replaced by a tight, cold mask. “We’re here.”
“You’ve got another crazy Hunter running around?”
With a withering look, she said, “No, I don’t have another crazy Hunter. You’re not crazy. Anything other than that isn’t your concern.”
He might have pointed out that she had been the one to toss it out there, but he saw the sharp glint in her eyes. He might have some smart-ass tendencies of his own, but he wasn’t about to give this woman grief. Whatever else was going on, it was hurting her. He saw it in her eyes before she managed to hide it.
Silently, he climbed out of the car and grabbed his bag from the miniscule trunk. Then he moved to join her on the sidewalk, glancing around.
Excelsior looked the same. It had been a couple of years since he’d been here—the last time had been at Rafe’s insistence as well. Dominic was apparently showing Master traits but he seemed too young for it. He had been sent to the school for a second opinion. Which added up to a waste of time in his opinion.
Yes, he was showing Master traits. Yes, he was young. Then he was shipped back to Memphis after spending just a few days at the school. He wasn’t ready to go off on his own, there weren’t any problems developing, so right now there wasn’t any need for concern, big fucking deal.
The school was quieter at night, although he could hear the sounds of training coming from the gym. Nightwalkers like himself getting their training in like good little Hunters, well before the sunrise.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around and sighed. “Where do you want me?”
“You can take a dorm room or one of the empty houses. Up to you.” She smiled at him and said, “I’m not locking you up in a holding cell.”
His eyes closed, he managed, just barely, not to blow out a sigh of relief.
She really, honestly believed he wasn’t losing it. And she should know, right?
“You really don’t think I’m going crazy.”
Kelsey chuckled. “Honey, I know you’re not. Relax, okay?”
“Relax.” Dominic snorted. “Hell, that’s so much easier said than done.”
He hadn’t been able to relax, really relax in forever. He closed his eyes and took one slow, deep breath. Held it as his senses processed the stimuli. Lavender . . .
Something familiar . . .
Her.
He caught the echo of it on the breeze that drifted by in the next second.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
Kelsey said something, but he didn’t hear her. Didn’t notice he was moving, didn’t even notice she was trailing along behind him.
That scent. He sniffed the air again, flooded his senses with it. Would have wrapped his body in it, if he could have. It was stronger now, but still so faint.
He found himself standing on the small stoop of one of the cabins. They were reserved for the teachers who preferred not to live in the dorms, or guests. Resting a hand on the door, he breathed the scent in again. Blood filled his mouth for just a second as his fangs dropped from their sheaths, cutting through his gums, throbbing and ready.
Hunger tore through him.
Her . . . it was her.
Gripping the doorknob, he turned it, but it was locked. Focused on nothing but getting inside the cabin, he turned again, harder. He was a fucking vampire—he could crush the damn locking mechanism, force the door open . . .
Except it didn’t open. Stepping back, he studied the door.
That was when he realized where he was—he was being watched by a very curious witch. She had a look on her face like she was trying to decide if she wanted to chuckle or not. “The door is locked, Dom. We reinforce them here, remember?”
“Then unlock it.”
“I had a different cabin in mind.” She propped her hands on her hips, and now she didn’t look so inclined to chuckle. She looked pissed off.
Dominic didn’t give a damn.
“I want this one.”
Kelsey’s brows arched. “It wasn’t designed for vamps, Dom. The only place in there where you’ll find safety from the sun is the closet. Maybe under the damn bed.”
“Fine.” He turned back to the door, resting a hand on it, breathing in more of that elusive scent. Fading, bit by bit. He wasn’t waiting for a damn key. He stepped back and before Kelsey could try to stop him, he kicked the door in.
“What in the hell . . . ?”
But he didn’t hear her.
Feeling half-drunk, he staggered into the room. Here.
She had been here.
Voices danced through his head.
You’re a foolish girl.
Foolish, am I? Not so silly that I couldn’t save your arse—those wolves would have had you for dinner.
Can’t have that, now can we? And she laughed as he pulled her close, held her tight.
Then pain. Hot and burning bright, tearing through him. Blood bubbling up in his throat to choke him.
And Nessa . . . crying.
Promise me! Damn it, you promise me! Promise me you’ll come back.
Only God Himself could keep me from you, love. The pain was hideous and darkness tried to close in. Death. It was death. He was dying . . . leaving her. But he’d come back. He’d find her again.
I do wish I had listened to you, my beautiful witch.
The tears in her eyes, the pain on her face, it tore him apart—even worse than the feel of the dagger in his c
hest. Just come back, Elias.
My Nessa.
His.
She was his.
As he was hers.
Distantly, he heard a voice. A male voice. But it made no sense to him. The words made no sense. His knees buckled and he sagged to the floor, bracing his hands on it, flexing his fingers, as though that might somehow ground him.
Something peeked out from under the bed and he leaned forward, grabbed it. The second he touched it, his skin buzzed. Her scent grew stronger. She’d touched the book.
She had been here. He could all but feel her. Where was she? His skin vibrated and he ached, deep inside his chest. His heart began to beat quicker, pounding, hard and insistent.
With each beat, his mind seemed to scream at him.
Find her.
Find her.
Lifting his head, he searched for Kelsey and found her standing at the door, staring at him with a bemused expression on her face. And she wasn’t alone.
There was a man with her.
A vampire.
The vampire barely glanced at Dominic, rested a hand on Kelsey’s shoulder. “I need to speak with you.”
The voice was familiar. So was the face.
The dream—that fucking dream.
With startling clarity, he could remember the dream. His witch, standing at the edge of a skyscraper, staring down like she longed for nothing more than to step off the edge into oblivion. And the vampire.
This vampire.
He didn’t realize he was growling.
He didn’t realize he had lunged for the vampire.
Not until a pale hand closed around his throat and he was suspended in the air. Dominic didn’t give a flying fuck—he couldn’t choke to death.
“You fucking moron, do you have a death wish?” the vampire snarled.
Lashing out with a foot, Dominic demanded, “Where in the fuck is she?”
“Who are you talking about?” Dark blue eyes stared at him. They glowed with banked power. Dominic could feel that power, battering at him, slamming into him and threatening to send him back to his knees. Except he was still dangling several feet in the air.
Half-crazed, Dominic felt the bloodlust rise in him and he tore at the other vampire’s hand, instinctively trying to break that grasp. Pain shot through him as the vamp’s hand tightened, crushing his throat.
“Where in the fuck is she?” he demanded again.
Or at least that was what he tried to say. It came out “Waaaa . . .” His throat was crushed and he could taste his own blood.
Yield.
The vampire hadn’t spoken.
His blue eyes bored into Dominic, glowing. Yield.
But Dominic could still smell her. Could still feel her presence, though it was fading.
The fingers on his throat tightened. But instead of scrabbling at the hand that held him effortlessly in the air, Dominic took his fist and used it to smash at the vampire’s elbow. Distantly, he heard bone crack.
He hit the floor, but he had only about two seconds to enjoy it before he was sent flying across the room. He crashed into the wall, oblivious to anything and everything.
CHAPTER 7
A SAVAGE growl rumbled in Malachi’s throat.
There were times when hearing that sort of sound made Kelsey’s knees all wobbly and weak, but this wasn’t one of them. Adrenaline shot through her as she got in front of her husband and rested her hands on his chest.
“Don’t.”
He glanced at her, his dark blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t?” he echoed, his voice silky and menacing.
“Yes. Don’t.”
But he wasn’t hearing her all that well.
Desperate times . . . she rose up on her toes and fisted her hands in his dark red hair, slanting her mouth over his. She nipped at his lower lip and rocked her hips against him. He hesitated for just a few seconds, and then he groaned, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her close. He kissed her roughly, his fangs slicing her lower lip, and the taste of blood filled their kiss.
He eased back, pausing to lick her lip slowly, tracing the edge of the wound. As she settled back on her feet, the injured flesh was already knitting itself together. Malachi dipped his head and pressed his brow to hers. “Damn it, Kelsey.”
She cupped his face in her hands and smiled. “Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“And keeping me from beating that little shit into nothingness was something you had to do?”
“Yep.”
His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you saw a different set of events than I did. He attacked me. For no reason.”
“Yes, he did.” Then she eased back, eyeing Malachi’s right arm. It hung weirdly, and she grimaced. “He also broke your arm.”
Malachi lowered his gaze, staring at his injured arm, disgust written all over his face. “Damn right, he did. Nasty break, too.”
Kelsey rested her hands on it and looked at him. After giving her a pained look, he let her take his arm.
It must have hurt. Vampires healed miraculously quick, but they still felt pain and a bad break was still a bad break. She couldn’t even be nice about it, because with every second, his bones were knitting together and if she waited too long, they’d have to break it again just to set it right.
By the time she was done, she was in a cold sweat.
A muscle jerked in Malachi’s jaw, but that was the only outward sign he gave of his discomfort. He’d had far worse than a broken arm in his life. Far, far worse.
She kissed his chin and then stroked his jaw.
Behind her, she heard Dominic grunting as he started to come back to consciousness. Placing her hands on Malachi’s shoulders, she squeezed lightly. “Promise me something.”
“No.”
Kelsey pouted and looked at him from under her lashes. “Pretty please?”
“No. Because I’ve got this peculiar feeling you’re going to ask me not to teach that little fool a lesson.” His eyes gleamed. “He broke my arm. I owe him something.”
He brushed around Kelsey and went to kneel by Dominic. The younger vampire was moaning under his breath, but he was still out of it. Kelsey suspected she knew why—the little cabin was made of brick and Malachi had thrown him so hard, it was a miracle the back wall was still standing. He’d hit his head on the brick—she could see the blood seeping out from under his head and when she rested a hand on his brow, she could sense the injuries.
“You’re even, big guy,” she said, slanting a look at her husband. “His skull is busted—he’s going to be a few more minutes waking up.”
“We’re not even. He broke my arm. I broke his skull. But he attacked me first.” Malachi studied his face. “Isn’t this the boy Rafe was sending us? The one worried he was losing his mind?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Rafe he was dead-on. This one is fucking insane.”
“No.” Kelsey sighed and stood up, surveying the damage to the back wall. Between the front door Dom had busted and the back wall, this cabin wasn’t going to be use-able for a few days. It needed renovations in a major way. “He’s not crazy. I already looked.”
“Attacking me wasn’t exactly the mark of a sane man,” Malachi pointed out.
“I don’t think he was trying to attack you.” She licked her lips and turned, staring at the room.
Even before Malachi had shown up, Dom had been acting weird. It hadn’t started though until they’d arrived at the school. Actually, a few minutes after. They’d been walking up the path.
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, thinking back.
She could remember seeing the change come over him—a look had entered his eyes—she’d been speaking to him, but he hadn’t heard her. He’d been focused on something else. Someone else.
Where the fuck is she?
That was what he’d yelled at Malachi as he lunged at the older vampire.
Kelsey looked back at Dom and murmured, “He’s looking for somebody. He thinks you kno
w her.”
CHAPTER 8
HE didn’t know where he was when he woke up.
It was bright, that much he knew.
Bright . . . and he could smell Nessa.
Lavender. She always smelled of it.
The scent was fading though, fading more and more.
Squinting his eyes against the harsh, bright light—too bright, it seemed—
He looked around, searching for her.
He wasn’t alone, though.
There was a woman with reddish blond hair. A man with dark red hair. But he didn’t see his wife.
He licked his lips, his mouth painfully dry. Bugger, his head hurt. Squinting at the woman, he asked, “Where is my wife?”
The woman’s brows drew together, a confused expression on her face. She looked as though she didn’t understand him. The man with her moved toward him and the woman reached out, laid a hand on his arm.
“Your wife?” the man asked, his voice low. The look in those dark blue eyes could have turned blood to ice.
Fear, worry, sank into him, cold and vicious.
“Yes. My wife.”
The woman continued to stare at him, the puzzled frown on her face giving way to a reassuring smile.
He didn’t want reassurance. He wanted his wife.
“Who are you looking for?” the man prodded.
“Are you daft?” he snarled. “My wife. Agnes.”
The woman went pale.
The man looked at him as though he’d lost his mind.
Pain throbbed behind his eyes. Darkness swirled.
“Your wife, you say? What’s your name, then?”
He had no time for this. He didn’t understand how he knew that, but he did. He had no time for questions or games. There had been trouble. She had been in danger—both of them had been.
He needed to find her—he’d already been away from her for far too long. How long . . . but even thinking about it had pain ripping through him.
Glaring at them, he swore under his breath and then went to push past them. His steps were unsteady and the ache in his head intensified. He reached up and touched the back of his head where the pain was the worst, touched something wet. His head felt strange, too soft, giving under his questing fingers.
Hunter's Fall Page 9
