Garran chuckled. "Wow, ye two are like the dynamic duo. Isabella with her keen eyes and ye, Harrison with that nose of yers." Garran tapped the side of his nose for emphasis.
Isabella peeked around Harrison. Her gaze landed on the bundle of red silk and dark hair. It was Sanya and she lay on the ground unmoving. A young woman sat beside the vampire with her legs crossed. Her eyes were closed and her posture spoke of someone who was meditating.
Garran followed her line of vision. "Sanya was useful for the voodoo queen's daughter." His voice had a nasty edge to it.
A reddish line with symbols encircled Frimrose. Sanya's blood? She looked at Garran and he filled in the blanks.
"Frimrose is safe for now. As long as she stays within the circle, I cannot touch her. She cast a spell to ward off evil intent, but we all know she cannot stay in the circle forever."
His words sent a chill down Isabella's spine. "We can help you," Isabella made an attempt to reach Garran, the Garran she knew and cared about. "We have blood in the car." It was refrigerated to keep it fresh. Warm blood outside the body was useless as spoiled milk.
Garran's smile didn't reach his eyes that glimmered between red and turbulent gray. They were losing him. "There's fresh blood right here." His fangs lengthened, long and threatening before he flitted, but Harrison was ready and moved just as fast, knocking Garran down. The two rolled on the ground as each tried to get the upper hand.
"Garran, stop it," she cried and fired a shot in the air.
Chapter Sixty
The woman's voice triggered a memory. Protect her. A part of Garran's subconscious reached for her, but he shook his head, the thought of blood proved all he could focus on…hot, pumping into his mouth…delicious blood.
His gaze narrowed on the man he held in his grip. Harrison… werewolf… His blood wouldn't sustain him. He needed something more potent, something human. His nostrils flared, picking up a familiar scent. "Isabella."
"No, no, no." Harrison slammed his fist into Garran's face. "Izzie, get the hell out of here. Now!" Harrison growled as his teeth lengthened and claws sprouted from his hands.
Garran hissed, swiping at Harrison with such force, the werewolf flew backward, slamming against the wall, his head hitting with a loud crack. His body dropped to the floor and didn't move. Good. His gaze riveted back to Isabella.
Her lovely hazel eyes rimmed with gold widened with fear. Garran pulled his fangs in, hoping to ease her apprehension so he could grab her before she sprinted into the light.
Isabella knew Garran stalked her. His moves were of a lethal predator, his muscles bunching beneath his shirt. She was no match for his speed. She took a careful step back.
His eyes glowed red as he sauntered toward her with intent. He crooked his index finger at her with a come hither gesture. "Come here, my sweet bonny lassie, and I promise I shall make it quick."
"Garran, this isn't you."
His laugh rumbled deep and menacing. "Isabella, this is the true me. It's what I've been tryin' to tell ye, but ye didn't want to listen. Ye never listen." He moved forward again. She was prey and nothing more to him now.
She raised her gun. "Stop or I'll shoot."
"Bullets won't kill me, remember?" As he lunged toward her, she pulled the trigger. She didn't wait to see how much damage she'd done, but whirled around, sprinting for the door. She almost made it, but seconds before the sun would shine warm on her face, Garran tackled her to the ground. For a moment, the air was knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even plead for her life.
His knee jabbed into the small of her back and his hand pinned her head against the cold concrete. With the other hand, he moved her hair to the side, exposing the tender flesh at her neck. She either hadn't wounded him or the iron bullets didn't faze him in the least.
"You don't have to do this," she rasped out, but he only laughed.
"Oh, but I do." He had leaned down, his mouth inches from her ear. "By the way, ye smell delicious." He licked her earlobe, his tongue sliding over it with tender care before he nipped and drew blood. His tongue lapped over the wound. "Mmm-hmm. Ye taste as good as ye smell, too."
Isabella closed her eyes. Her body shook with fear, but all she could think about was what this would do to Garran. He hung onto his humanity, wore it like a badge of honor. If he killed her, he would never forgive himself.
She pushed any self-pity aside. She had to think of a way out of this—for both their sakes. "Garran, let…me touch you."
For a moment, he didn't move, but then he swung her around onto her back, keeping her pinned down.
Her gaze wavered over his features. He looked like the ferocious vampire of legends: fierce, threatening, and with red glowing eyes.
"Are ye offerin' to please me?" He leaned down with savage intent. She could barely breathe as he took her mouth, with teeth and tongue as he devoured her with a kiss. "I can taste yer fear." He nipped her lip, sampling her blood again. "Ah, aye. Yer blood tastes better than the finest wine."
"Garran, please don't do this. We brought blood for you."
"Why would I need the packets of pig's blood when I have ye, a delicacy to be sure." His hand gripped her wrist. She struggled, but he proved too strong. His fingers bit into her. He licked the soft skin on her wrist, the very place where he had tasted her blood the first time. He plunged his fangs into her flesh, causing her to gasp. Pain and pleasure intertwined as one. He sucked slowly as if he planned to savor every drop.
She fought, but her struggles only proved to excite him even more. "You're taking too much."
"Yer blood is makin' me strong." He broke away to kiss her. She could taste the blood on his lips—her blood. Her stomach recoiled. She fought back, biting his lip. He roared in pain, but then it seemed he decided he liked it and took hold of her mouth again, caressing slowly, seducing until she didn't struggle. Then he took her wrist, siphoning more blood.
She turned away, not wanting to look at Garran, not wanting her last memory to be of him relishing the kill. She squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them again and focused, her gaze latched onto her weapon resting not far from her. In one last attempt, with her free hand, she reached for her gun. Her fingers scraped the cool metal, and she fumbled to bring it closer. Finally gripping it, she jabbed it into his side and pulled the trigger.
Garran flew from her, howling in pain. She scrambled back, frantically kicking with her feet and shot him again, this time in the knee.
She tried to stand, but fell back down. Blood flowed from her wrist and pooled at her feet. Her vision blurred. Garran's growls alerted her. She tried to shoot him again, but he pounced.
He kicked the gun away from her hand, sending it spinning away across the cement. He grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head to the side, baring her neck.
This was it. This was how her life would end, but all she could think of were three simple words. "I forgive you."
His body stilled as if time suddenly halted.
Perhaps the blood he had taken from her was starting to do its magic, bringing him down from the murderous rampage. Whether it was her words or the blood, his hands dropped to his side and he backed away. His gaze swept over her in horror. "Get out of here, Isabella, before it's too late." For a moment, he looked at her as the man she truly knew. "Go," he pleaded. "I don't know how much longer I can hold off." He doubled over as if in pain, either from the iron bullets or the lack of blood. Maybe it was both.
A clapping sound from above made Isabella glance in the direction with a curse. Alexander balanced on the rafter as if he were a tight rope performer. Had he been up there the whole time, hiding in the shadows as he watched what unfolded?
Alexander leapt down, landing in a crouched position before standing straight with one fluid move. His light hair stayed in place haloing his face. How could someone so beautiful be so evil? Maybe it was true the eyes were the windows to the soul. Alexander's light baby blues were cold, a contradiction to his angelic
smile. "Ye're a might stronger than I thought ye'd be, sweet Isabella."
As much as she liked hearing Garran say her name, she disliked how it flowed off Alexander's tongue. Hearing her name from his lips made it sound like something foul and tainted. "Sorry, to disappoint you," she said sarcastically. At this moment, Alexander proved the more lethal of the two vampires. She glanced at Garran who grimaced and clutched his stomach as he tried to gain control over the hunger and stifle the pain the iron bullets were causing him. She knew Garran's appetite might win out in the end. With Harrison out of commission, she was on her own.
Alexander wagged his finger at her. "I knew I liked ye. Ye have sass." He took a step toward her and she backed away. The sun shone in the entrance of the warehouse, but any sudden move to run toward her sanctuary would set both vampires into predator mode.
"Let her go," Garran rasped out. "This is between ye and me, Alexander. It always has been. Let's finish it in the old way."
Alexander gave him an incredulous look of disbelief. "What? Like take up swords? No' likely, Garran. This is the twenty-first century no' eighteenth century Scotland. Ye aren't the laird who needs to take care of the petty disagreements. "Besides," he lifted his shoulder in a shrug, "yer little play thing will no' last much longer. Ye didn't close her wound. She bleeds out as we speak."
Isabella frowned, wondering what he meant. She glanced at her arm. Blood dripped from her wrist and onto the floor. Funny the wound didn't even bother her now. Garran wouldn't look at her, but she could see his jaw muscles work as he clenched his teeth.
"We'll fight over the spoils later, aye?" Garran said, making her blanch.
She wanted to staunch the bleeding but that would require taking her eyes off them. She couldn't do that.
"I'll make you watch as I drain her then," Alexander boasted. "I want ye to suffer. Back in Scotland, ye took all I gained and locked me in a barn to burn. If ye would have left me alone, I could have been a great clan leader."
Both vampires circled for the right time to make their attack.
"Great? Ye would have been a laird of half-starved men, and yer fiends would have killed them off one by one. Ye wreaked havoc. Ye had to be stopped." Garran wiped his brow. Then gave Alexander a come hither wave. "All these centuries, ye've been storin' yer hatred for just this moment. Let's see what ye have, then."
Garran was in no condition to take Alexander on, but it didn't stop him from goading the vampire. Isabella knew what he was doing. He was trying to save her even if it meant his demise.
Alexander looked as though he'd take the bait. He even took a step toward Garran, but at the last moment, he flitted in front of her, but before he could grab her, Garran swooped in, knocking her to the side. Her breath went out of her in a huff and she slid on the ground as if she were a bowling ball thrown to make a strike.
Bruised and bleeding, her efforts to crawl toward the door were painful and slow. Her vision blurred and she lay on her side. She was so tired.
Alexander and Garran moved so fast, they were nothing but a blur of color. Garran's aura of blue and deep purple swirled around the darker gray aura of Alexander's. Hisses and growls filled her ears with dread. They were tearing each other apart and she would most likely be next if she didn't move. She took a deep breath and dragged herself toward the door. Thoughts of regret assailed her. She hadn't had the chance to make things right with her brother and it looked like she never would. She was going to bleed out.
Alexander threw Garran at the wall, but he flew to his feet to meet the next blow. Alexander's hand latched onto Garran's neck. Garran grabbed at his fingers, trying to dislodge his hold.
Isabella spotted her gun, not too far from where she had crawled, but she couldn't move. She may be too weak to crawl, but she could still speak. She focused her gaze on Alexander as she murmured the incantation to open the veil. The air shifted around her and she knew her spell was beginning to work.
Alexander slumped forward, the fight out of him. Garran stared at him for a moment, not knowing what was happening.
"Noooo…" Alexander shook his head, his breath frosting in front of him.
The veil wavered open and closed as she tried to expel Alexander's soul. Every breath she took was labored.
Garran must have sensed her trouble. He flitted to where Harrison's sword lay abandoned against the wall. He retrieved it and flitted back. The remnants of Alexander's soul stubbornly clung to his body, but with one lethal blow to the neck, it was severed.
The soul vanished in a whirl of black smoke into the veil and the curtain between life and death closed abruptly behind it.
Isabella crawled to her feet. She took a step toward Garran, but he held up his hand. "Stay back." He closed his eyes and inhaled. When he opened them again, they were glazed with hunger.
"Don't you bloody well take another step toward her."
"Harrison." Isabella sighed in relief that the werewolf was all right. She had feared the worse.
"Then go to her," Garran demanded of Harrison. "She's bleedin' out."
Harrison's gaze wavered over her with concern. He removed his shirt as he hurried over to her to wrap her wrist.
"I'm okay." But she let Harrison take care of her. She glanced toward the back room where Sanya and Frimrose were. "I opened the veil. I didn't know Sanya would be here. I only protected you." She looked at Garran. True, she had no real affection for Sanya, but the vampire had tried to help them. She frowned as she remembered the black smoke-like swirl entering the veil. "I didn't see her soul leave."
"The circle is binding," Garran said and pointed. "Frimrose encircled Sanya's body with her blood to keep her safe from me and also to keep Sanya trapped. Sanya's drained, but no' beyond bringin' her back."
Isabella concentrated on Sanya's body and noticed her aura was faded, but still intact. She nodded. "And Frimrose? Did she use her blood to create the circle around her?"
"No. Sanya volunteered her blood for the ritual."
"Sanya volunteered?" Harrison didn't sound like he believed the story, but Garran didn't refute it.
"Alexander knew Sanya was spying on him. He wanted her dead."
Isabella stared at Monette's daughter, who sat as still as a statue. "How do we wake her?"
"Her mother will know what to do," Garran assured her.
Harrison fished out his phone from his pocket. "Let's get her over here so we can all go home." He hesitated before he made the call as he glanced at Garran with suspicion. Garran appeared more like his old self, but it was obvious he still hadn't fully recovered. "I'll get the blood we have stashed in the cooler. You better replenish before we take you out of here."
Garran nodded in agreement.
Isabella couldn't believe it was over. She glanced at the boxes in the corner, stacked on top of each other. Did they all hold souls from Alexander's victims? "Can we help them?"
Garran knew what she spoke of. "It will be near impossible to find out who the souls belong to, but we can set them free."
The longer a soul remained away from the body, the harder it was for the soul to find its way back without help, if there was even a body to go back to. Even then, she didn't know if it could be done. She met Garran's gaze. "What about Johanna's soul?"
Garran didn't have a chance to answer. Harrison had strolled back in, clutching the container carrying the pouches of blood.
"Monette's seconds away and she'll awaken Sanya, too," Harrison announced. He tossed three blood packets to Garran. Harrison had heard the tail end of their conversation and looked expectantly at Garran then to her. "Can you detect which soul is Johanna's?" He looked doubtful as he glanced at the boxes.
"I've known Johanna most of my life," she told them. "I would recognize her soul anywhere." She strode over to the boxes. The souls called to her with whispered pleas for help. Overwhelmed by the sensation, she leaned on one of the boxes to steady herself.
"Are ye okay?" Garran asked her as he downed the last packet of blood.
<
br /> Before she could answer, Monette stormed in. "Where's my daughter?"
Harrison gestured toward the back room, and handed her the cooler containing the rest of the blood packets.
"I will not wake the vampire until I have Frimrose safely away from here."
"Do as you please," Harrison said.
Monette hurried past him without a backward glance. She placed the packets of blood beside Sanya within the circle, before she turned toward her daughter.
Isabella could hear the voodoo queen murmuring words that would break her daughter's trance. The strong scent of ozone hit her as the enchantment broke and Frimrose's eyes opened. Upon recognizing her mother, the girl flew into her mother's arms.
Isabella was glad there had been a happy ending for them.
"You don't look so good, Izzie." Harrison took the steps separating them. "Matter of fact, you look bloody awful."
"You don't look so hot yourself." Her lips twitched as her gaze touched the cuts and bruises on his face.
"I'll heal quickly." He looked her over again with concern.
"She needs a blood transfusion." Garran's voice hitched in alarm. "Her heartbeat is flutterin'."
"I'm fine." She pushed away from the box to prove her point, but the sudden movement made everything swim in front of her like waves of color before blackness devoured it all.
Chapter Sixty-One
The Guards of Judgment congratulated Garran and his team on a job well done in cleaning up Alexander's mess. The Nephilim were always looking to pin merit badges, now that they were out of the closet—so to speak. They were no longer just Watchers, but able to find their soul mates without having all of Heaven out to smite them. Go figure. They had a new organization called the WFTL, Warriors for the Light, based in California.
With Alexander's books and ledgers that Sanya gladly handed over, the WFTL would take care of the muckity-muck in Washington, who ordered the souls for his big soiree. Their case was closed.
Soul Taker Page 29
