“Yes.” And the new one had pissed him off as much as the first, though it hadn’t been nearly as bleak. “I saw Devyn chained inside a small, dark cage. He was cut up and bleeding. There was murder in his eyes.” Worse, Bride had been nowhere to be seen. “There were two men beyond the bars, and they were eyeing him like he was the tastiest treat they’d ever seen.”
Clearly, they were vampires. Which meant, to Dallas, that Devyn had gotten—or would get—himself captured by the warrior McKell.
Kyrin’s head tilted to the side. “Tell me. Were the edges of this vision as real and colorful as the vision itself? Or were they faded, tapering into nothingness?”
Dallas frowned as he closed his eyes and replayed the scene of Devyn’s captivity through his mind. He’d never paid attention to the edges of a vision before, only concentrating on the happenings. His frown deepened when he noticed that the edges were of the solid variety. “No fading. What does that mean?”
There was a regretful sigh. “That means at this point, that vision is not changeable. It will happen, and there’s nothing that can be done to stop it. Devyn has already chosen the path that set him on that course and the pieces have already fallen into place.”
Damn. How many layers were there to the visions? He’d never had a clue, never suspected there was more to think about than what he was seeing. He’d just thought that what he saw was what was going to happen.
“We’ve gotta get him out. He doesn’t do well in confined spaces. Good news is, I can pinpoint his exact location. He injected himself with the isotope tracker a few weeks ago. Just in case Bride drank from him, he wanted to be able to track her.”
Mia’s grin returned. “God, I love that isotope. I’m thinking of implementing a Mandatory Injection Monday the first of every third month.” She tapped her chin with a blunt-tipped fingernail. “And maybe I’ll have everyone we arrest injected, as well. I mean, it’s how we finally nailed Nolan. It could save us a lot of time if another escape is ever made.”
Since Nolan’s recapture yesterday, Dallas knew that Mia had broken down and tested the otherworlder’s blood. Seemed there was no trace of the disease. Miracle of miracles, it was gone as if it had never been. So Mia had then tested the blood of the new vampires, but theirs had lacked the strong healing qualities of Bride’s. Which meant that their blood wouldn’t kill the disease. Only Bride’s would, it seemed.
Devyn would flip when he found out. If—when—Dallas got him out of that cage.
“As for Devyn, we’ll gather the troops and do a quick in-and-out,” Mia said. “He won’t be in that cage long.” It was a vow. She knew how much Dallas had come to love the irreverent shithead, and she loved Dallas enough to want him happy.
If it weren’t for Kyrin, Dallas would have jumped up and kissed her. “I pulled up his location this morning. It’s the same as it was last night. At the canyon about three hours from here.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “The canyon? Why did he go to the canyon? It’s unlivable.”
He explained how Devyn had taken Bride and run from McKell.
“No way. He wouldn’t have run from the warrior.” She shook her head. “Running isn’t his style.”
“You haven’t seen how he is with Bride. It reminds me of”—he shuddered—“you guys. He wanted to protect her.”
“Exactly,” Mia said, nodding as if he’d just proven her point. “To protect her, he would eliminate a threat, not evade it.”
Huh. That made sense. Dallas leaned back in the chair. Shit. I’m keeping her safe, Devyn had said, and Dallas had just assumed the big guy had meant to hide out for a bit.
Just then Dallas felt like the idiot Mia had called him for ever assuming otherwise. But Devyn had purposefully given him that impression. Why?
The answer immediately slammed into him. Devyn had known Dallas would follow him, intending to fight the vampire army side by side, most likely losing the slaves he’d purchased in the fray.
Goddamn it! “Can I force a vision?”
Kyrin frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Can I somehow tap into Devyn’s life and see what’s going on right this very second?”
“You can, yes.” There was no time to rejoice, because the Arcadian added, “With practice.”
“Then I’ll start practicing now.” Determined, he closed his eyes and summoned his friend’s image. There was Dev, laughing over at him. He’d probably just complimented his own beauty or the size of his cock. Dallas’s lips twitched. Come on, you can do it. Find Devyn. Over and over he attempted to force his mind to open, to plug in and reveal. His lids squeezed tight with the force of his concentration, but the image never shifted, never became a real-life play-by-play.
Frustration was like a knife inside him.
“Stop,” Kyrin said, and he did, helpless to do otherwise.
His eyelids popped open, his mind blanking. He gritted his teeth. “Do not order me around.”
“You came to me for help. Therefore, I will do whatever I wish, and you will obey me in all things.”
Yes, he would. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. Furious, he popped to his feet. “I’m not your servant or your slave.”
Pale blue eyes—eyes so like his own—narrowed. “But you are my student. Sit.”
Though he was still fuming, Dallas sat, unable to do otherwise.
“If you do not want to follow my commands, learn to fight the impulse to follow them.”
“How?” he gritted out.
“Practice, as I said.”
Dallas pinched the bridge of his nose. Was that the otherworlder’s answer to everything?
Mia threw a pillow at him. “Get over yourself. He’s being generous, giving you so much of his time. Time he could be spending with me.”
Kyrin clasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, though his attention never wavered from Dallas. “Have I answered all of your questions, agent?”
“Pretty much.”
“Good.” Kyrin stood. “Mia and I have set up a training mat. I’d like to—”
“Hell, no.” That might have been the reason he’d come here, but sometime during their conversation things had changed. “I’m ready to go after Devyn and save him from that cage.” Oh, yeah. And kill the people who had placed him there.
Kyrin shook his head, the picture of resolve. “You’ve accepted your abilities, but you have no idea how to truly use them to your advantage. You’ll give me an hour or two of your time. Devyn will survive for that long. And then I will help you save him.”
“Bastard!” Scowling, Dallas popped to his feet. The “you’ll give me” had sealed his fate. He would stay here for “an hour or two,” practicing as he’d been commanded. Unless…Kyrin had said he could fight the urge to obey.
Once more he concentrated. Tried to force one foot in front of the other to leave. He visualized the front door, saw himself walking out of it, but he fucking didn’t move. His muscles were bunched, locked down on his bones, his brain refusing to send the signals needed for movement.
“Are you able to summon your powers easily?” the otherworlder asked him. “Can you turn them off whenever you wish?”
“Sometimes.” He’d been able to race into the clearing, but he hadn’t been able to bend Nolan’s queen to his will. Stopping, though, once he’d started? Not really.
“That, too, will change when I am through with you. You’ll summon and stop them at will.”
“And just how long until you’re through with me?” he couldn’t help but ask with dread.
“Perhaps a year.”
His jaw dropped. “A year? You’re kidding me?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “You’ll learn that Kyrin here doesn’t have a sense of humor.”
“You’ll thank me for that,” Kyrin said, confident.
“Thank you.” The words were out before he could stop them.
Mia choked on a laugh.
Kyrin sighed patiently. “There is much to do, I s
ee. More than I’d anticipated.”
“Devyn—”
“Will be fine, like I said. The vision you had was the future. He’s not yet in the cage.”
Had Kyrin always been this much of an ass? “We can keep him from the cage, then. If we act now.”
“Trying to change a vision set in stone is impossible. Doing so will only hurt you. I believe you’ve experienced that already. Devyn is going to be locked up, one way or another.”
CHAPTER 24
To Devyn, the vampire palace had not changed in any way. He saw the same smooth onyx walls covered in merry murals of humans dancing in all their antique finery, same Victorian furniture stolen from the surface—walnut marble tabletops, white lace telephone chairs, and slag-glass lamps. Same ceiling comprised solely of crystal, like an endless chandelier or a rocky midnight ocean, the lights from below bouncing off the jagged shards and splashing colors in every direction. Same shields and spears decorating the walls. Same alabaster columns and statues of royalty positioned throughout.
There was a line of robe-clad women, males dressed in white shirts and black pants, much like McKell, all leading into the throne room. Guards were stationed throughout, armed with spiked whips.
None of the vamps had ever said anything to him, but he knew the whips were designed to slash through skin and vein while gripping bone, preventing the injury from healing. The subsequent blood loss weakened the captured vampires, enabling the whip to hold them in place. He could have used one of those whips on Bride when he’d lured her to his apartment, he supposed, but even from the beginning his goal had not been to hurt her.
Should have known then what she would come to mean to me. As he stood in the foyer, Bride and McKell at his sides, he tried to see the palace as Bride might: for the first time, as a home she should have grown up in, a home that had been denied her. It was beautifully dark, utterly sultry.
“The crowd beat us,” McKell said on a sigh.
Bride spun in a circle, clearly awed. “Why do they wish to speak to the king?”
The warrior watched her with smug fondness, and Devyn could practically hear his thoughts: Score one for team McKell. “Many reasons. To gain permission to mate. To settle disputes with neighbors. Often a human is involved, and there has been a forbidden sampling.”
She stilled, disgust replacing her awe. “Do they have to ask permission to bathe, too?”
Devyn fought a grin. Score one for team Devyn. Raised on the surface as she’d been, she was used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted to do it.
“Come,” McKell said through clenched teeth. “There’s no reason for us to wait in line. We will visit the king when the crowd thins.”
“Why don’t we just cut to the front?” Bride pointed toward the doors to the throne room. “I want to get this over with.”
“That is not allowed. Not even for one of my station.” McKell ushered them through an arched doorway and up a flight of stairs, comprised of the same crystal as the ceiling, only these had been ground down and polished to a glistening shine. On the second level, they turned a sharp corner, a yawning chamber coming into view.
There, the furniture was made entirely from human bones, and Bride couldn’t hide her revulsion. Score two for team Devyn.
There were only three occupants. One was draped from head to toe in black, face obscured as she stood patiently in the far corner. The other two were more scantily dressed, their robes half the length of Bride’s and completely transparent. He could see the outline of their nipples as they jumped from the—femur?—settee they’d been lounging on.
“Devyn,” one of them called happily. She had long pale hair, chocolate eyes, and curves so dangerous they could never be fully explored.
The other clapped her hands and smiled. This one had a short cap of red curls and dimples when she smiled. She was taller, thinner, but no less desirable. “You came back to see us!”
Beside him, Bride moaned. “Great. Conquests.”
McKell chuckled.
Devyn glared at him. They were tied once again, it seemed. Two to two. “You don’t play fair.”
His enemy shrugged, no less amused. “I play with what toys I have. I sent a few of my men to alert the princesses of their favorite Targon’s arrival. They couldn’t wait to see you again, and I knew you’d be just as eager to renew your acquaintance.”
Devyn faced the two vampires he’d had before Bride. The two he’d bought, bedded, and returned to their people. They were racing to him, then throwing themselves in his arms, planting little kisses over his face and neck.
To deny them would have been rude and perhaps life-threatening, as they were of royal blood, cousins to the king—a king he needed on his side. Still, Devyn un-tangled himself from their arms and stepped back. They frowned at him, confused. When it came to touching and sex, he’d never told them no before.
“Is this a new game?” one of the girls asked.
What were their names? “I’m married now,” he explained. He racked his brain, and the answer finally popped into place. “Princess Deanna and Princess Wendy, this is Bride of the Targons.”
Bride nodded in acknowledgment. “Nice to meet you.”
The two females ignored Bride, speaking only to each other. “Last time he called me Demi.”
“I was Elsie.”
Giggling, they turned to him and shook their heads in a strange sort of unison. “Such a silly man. I’m De-Ella.”
“And I’m Jalyn.”
“Wow. You really are bad with names,” Bride said between coughs, as if that would keep anyone from hearing her actual words.
“My apologies, ladies,” he told them, trying not to laugh.
De-Ella playfully batted his shoulder. The slap would have sent any other man to his knees. She was an older vampire, and therefore stronger than most. “You’re role-playing again. That’s so cute.”
“It’s a gift.”
“One I truly enjoy,” Bride said.
Finally they looked at her. Really looked at her, up and down, every inch. Confusion consumed both of their features. “You married this person?” Jalyn asked.
Bride stiffened. “Hey, now. This person doesn’t take too kindly to being insulted.”
McKell drew her aside. “Come. Let’s leave them to their reunion.”
“No.” Devyn threw out an arm, blocking her escape. “She stays.”
“Yeah,” Bride said. “This person will stay.”
“She can’t join us,” De-Ella said with a pout. “We already have a fourth. A present for you, actually.”
Grinning wickedly, Jalyn motioned the cloaked female over. Hesitantly the woman obeyed, her hips rocking more suggestively than she probably realized. Dread burned through Devyn like acid.
“This is Tadeam.” De-Ella pinched the hood and slowly lifted it, first revealing a length of golden hair, thick and shiny. Then golden skin. Then a lovely golden face. The slave’s eyes were downcast, but he knew they would be golden, too. “Something you’ve never ever ever tasted before but always wanted.”
Yep, she was exactly what he’d suspected. A Rakan. The one race he’d been denied all these years. The race he’d tried to buy time and time again but failed. Eden’s race. What he’d always thought he’d wanted.
He sucked in a breath and caught the scent of honey and spice. It was true, then. Rakans smelled like honey when they were aroused. De-Ella and Jalyn must have primed her before bringing her here, thinking it would send him into a frenzy.
Before Bride, it would have. Now, it did nothing for him. He’d tasted heaven already. He’d entered paradise. Variety was no longer what drove him. Bride was. She was the world he now revolved around. The one he sought to please, to protect, to pleasure.
She had shown him what his life was missing. Then, with her smile and her touch, she’d patched him up and made him whole.
“Remember when you painted us gold and had us pretend we were Rakans?” De-Ella traced a finger along his col
larbone. “We had the McKell on the lookout, and when he found her, he bought her for us. Just in case you returned. Manus told us you would.”
Manus, the king. So. He’d known all along that Devyn would return. But had he known why?
“Ladies.” Bride rubbed at her chest as if pained. “I tried to be nice, but you ruined it. Now I don’t like you. You are going to back away from my husband.”
Her husband. It was the first time since their unexpected mating that she’d said it, and his heart swelled. Mine. She’s mine. Husband was a title he’d once endured, detested, suffered through, and when he’d finally shed it, vowed never to take it up again. Now, for the second time in his life, he was a husband. This time he preferred the title to that of king.
Before, she’d displayed no hint of jealousy. Not even toward the princesses. Not until they’d insulted her had she even displayed anger. But knowing him as she did, she thought variety was his weakness. This entire situation had to be abhorrent to her.
The girls regarded Bride as queens would a peasant. As if she were beneath them. Had they always been so snotty? Devyn found he couldn’t remember. He’d slept with them, many times, but hadn’t noticed anything else about them. Hadn’t cared to.
Jalyn’s chin rose. “Who do you think you are?”
McKell stepped forward. “She is Bride, a vampire, found on the surface at an auction. She is mine.”
“Actually,” Devyn said, “she’s mine.”
“Well, I’ve never seen her before.” The pronouncement came from De-Ella, as if her lack of knowledge lowered Bride’s value.
Had they always been this oblivious, as well? “That’s because she was raised on Earth.”
“Then send her back,” Jalyn snapped. “She bores me.”
“Well, then. Let me entertain you with a story.” Smiling evilly, teeth completely bared, Bride ambled toward her. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one. There once was a girl who wiped the floor with two vampire princesses. They screamed and begged for mercy, but no one helped them. The end.”
The Alien Huntress Series Page 86
