Of Love and Darkness

by Lund, Tami

  “You aren’t going to die,” William declared, just as a fist crashed into his jaw with enough impact to send him staggering into Gavin.

  “There are too damn many of them,” Gavin said. “And why the hell are they coming after us? Where’s Sydney?”

  “With Brandon,” William replied as he fended off more and more shifters.

  “Hopefully Brandon realized what the hell is going on and got her out to safety,” Gavin said.

  “If you’re in here, I can guarantee Sydney is not going to run for safety,” William replied.

  “She better, or I’ll—” His words were cut short when a willowy blond woman suddenly sprinted toward him.

  “Ah hell,” he said, just as she leaped onto the back of the nearest shifter. Without looking behind him, the shifter slammed his head back, head-butting Sydney in the forehead. She let go of him and dropped to the floor like a stone.

  “Sydney!” Gavin shouted, and like a madman, he began fighting his way through the crush of shifters, making his way to his woman.

  Brandon rushed up, just a few steps behind Sydney. He spotted her lying on the floor and immediately bent, hooked his arms under her underarms, and hauled her toward the bar.

  “Protect her,” Gavin commanded, glaring at Brandon. He turned back to William. “I need to lead them away from her,” he shouted. “I don’t think they realize.”

  “Go,” William shouted back, pointing at the bar’s entrance.

  Gavin was relieved to see that as soon as the fighting broke out, the humans had the foresight to get the hell out of Dodge. At least he didn’t have to worry about protecting any of them. All he had to do was get the attacking Rakshasa away from Sydney—and hopefully save his own life in the process.

  The crowd of Rakshasa followed Gavin out the door. William broke free of the fighting, rushed around behind the bar, and dropped to his knees next to Sydney’s head.

  “Is she still alive?” he asked Brandon, his voice laced with fear.

  “Yeah,” Brandon said grimly. “She’s breathing, but unconscious.”

  “Gavin could heal her quickly,” William stated.

  Brandon gave the Fate an unreadable look. Then he pushed to his feet. “Stay here with her, and I’ll go help Gavin.”

  “Okay,” William said, but Brandon was already gone.

  Sydney woke up a few minutes later. Her eyes fluttered open and William watched the play of emotion on her face as the reality of the situation slammed into her much in the way that Rakshasa’s head had. She put her palms on the floor and tried to push into a seated position, but William’s large, strong hand on her chest held her in place.

  “Gavin.” She let out a gasp. “Where’s Gavin?”

  “Outside,” William said. “Fighting them off. Protecting you.”

  “No!” She struggled against his hand. “William, it’s a trap. They want him, not me. They’re going to kill him!”

  William blinked. “Why would they want him over you?”

  “I don’t know. But somebody paid them to kill Gavin.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” she snapped in exasperation. “Let me up!”

  “Sydney, you got knocked out cold. You’re probably concussed. You need—” But it was useless to protest, and he knew it.

  Sydney clambered to her feet, grasping the bar as her head swam, and black dots exploded before her eyes. She fought both nausea and unconsciousness. She had no time for either one. She had to save Gavin.

  “All right, fine,” William said. He grabbed her head and squeezed.

  “Hey!” she protested, but then she stopped as gentle warmth flooded her. Whatever he was doing felt really good. And then William pulled his hands away from her head and the warmth disappeared as instantly as it came, leaving her head clear, except for a slight headache.

  “Thanks,” she said as she rubbed her temple. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “I’ve never had a need before,” he pointed out. “Well, if we’re going to go, let’s get to it. It’s pitch black out there, and for all I know, they’ve loaded him into a car and taken off with—” He never finished the sentence. He simply vanished.

  Sydney whipped her head back and forth, but she was utterly alone in the bar. “William?” she called tentatively. “William? Where the hell did you go? How come you just disappeared?”

  And then she recalled the time she and Gavin had been rolling around on the bed and Gavin muttered, “Oh Fates,” and suddenly William had been standing in the bedroom with them. Had Gavin summoned him? How come Gavin could summon her Fate?

  “Thanks a lot, Gavin,” she said to the empty bar. “How the hell am I supposed to find you all? I’m lousy with directions, remember?”

  Not surprisingly, she didn’t get a response. “Damn it,” she muttered as she hurried through the bar that was strewn with dead or dying shifters. At least Gavin wasn’t one of them. Yet.

  Outside, the only source light emanated from a giant fluorescent bulb hanging over the front entrance of the building. There wasn’t even a light pole in the parking lot. And to top it all off, there was a new moon tonight.

  “Lovely,” she muttered as she stepped out of the glare of the light in hopes that her eyes would adjust to the darkness. When they didn’t, she closed them, and tried to focus on listening. She hoped she could hear something, anything that would give her a clue as to where everyone went.

  Unfortunately, the night was so quiet, she didn’t even hear birds chirping or bugs making noise. Of course, it was the middle of winter, but still. The only thing she could hear was the sound of cars zooming past on the freeway two miles to the east.

  Sydney squeezed her eyes more tightly, frustrated that she couldn’t hear anything, anything at all. Suddenly, a white light appeared behind her eyelids. It wasn’t the same as the dots she saw earlier when the concussion was affecting her. This was different. It was only one light, one large light, and it seemed to be trying to tell her something. She opened one eye, just in case—and the light was there, too. It bobbed a few feet in front of her, quivering slightly, as if it understood the sense of urgency she felt to find Gavin.

  “Gavin?” she asked haltingly. She had no idea if he sent the light or not, but when she said his name, the thing bobbed around like a hummingbird, so she decided to believe that was its purpose. What the hell else could it be?

  “Okay,” she said as she took a step toward the glowing ball. “Lead me to him.”

  The ball bobbed in place for the space of two heartbeats, and then it zoomed away toward a nearby cluster of trees.

  “Hang on!” she called as she struggled to catch up. “I can’t run that fast! Don’t lose me! Wait up!” She plunged into the snow bank at the edge of the parking lot, and waded through knee-deep snow, following the ball of light she fervently hoped was not leading her to her death.

  Chapter 11

  They aren’t killing me. Why aren’t they killing me?

  These thoughts drifted through Gavin’s head as he floated in and out of consciousness. He was in the middle of the woods, his wrists tied with a thick length of rope that had been thrown over the lowest branch of a sturdy oak tree. One Rakshasa held the other end of the rope, keeping Gavin’s arms suspended above his head, while the rest took turns beating the hell out of him.

  But they weren’t planning to kill him. That much was apparent to the one who had once ruled a Rakshasa pack. When he had been in charge, they didn’t mess around with torturing shifters or humans or Chala. They killed them outright. There had only been one time, when they’d homed in on a Chala, some three hundred years ago. His pack mates wanted to know if the Chala was really as great as the Light Ones believed. Considering the way those guys acted about the rare females, they figured she must be pretty d
amned amazing in bed.

  So Gavin let them have their way with her, before they killed her. Afterward, they claimed she wasn’t any better than the waitress from the last bar they’d hung out at. Gavin now knew they had been lying about the experience. Either that, or Sydney was an anomaly. The Fates knew, she was fan-fricking-tastic in bed.

  Speaking of Fates, he hoped to hell William was taking care of her. And Brandon. Hopefully, William would get over whatever issues he had with Brandon. It was obvious Gavin wasn’t getting out of this experience alive. They hadn’t killed him yet, but they were keeping him alive for a reason. And once that reason was realized, he would be dead. He knew it like he knew what it felt like to have Sydney’s arms wrapped around his waist, or her inner muscles wrapped around his cock.

  At least he’d had the pleasure of that experience, almost nightly, for the past month. He could honestly say he had realized all of his dreams before dying. Well, almost. He hadn’t done two things. He hadn’t told Sydney he loved her—probably because he hadn’t even realized it until this moment. And he didn’t know if she was pregnant yet, from their one moment of unprotected sex. She hadn’t had her period since then, so there was still hope. He decided to cling to that hope. He had nothing else to cling to.

  He must have passed out again, because suddenly, someone was slapping his face.

  “You didn’t kill him, did you? We’re supposed to keep him alive, remember? You’d better not have—oh, there he is. Rise and shine, asshole. Welcome to your worst nightmare.” The face of an ugly shifter swam before Gavin’s blurred vision. He blinked blood out of his eyes and tried to focus.

  “Definitely a nightmare,” Gavin muttered.

  It took the shifter a moment to realize Gavin had just insulted him. He slugged Gavin in the gut before someone else jerked his arm away.

  “Knock it off. Alive, remember? Come on, I think he’s coming.”

  “Who?” Gavin asked.

  “None of your fucking business, asshole.” Another punch to the kidneys.

  “Fates,” Gavin gasped as he coughed up blood.

  Suddenly, William stood before him, looking as bewildered as Gavin felt.

  “You summoned me?” William asked, assessing the situation.

  “Accidentally,” Gavin muttered through swollen and cracked lips. “Untie me. Hurry. Their boss is coming.”

  “Their boss?”

  “Too late,” Gavin muttered, as two shifters grabbed William from behind, twisting his arms around his back and wrenching his shoulders.

  “Ow,” he complained.

  “What the hell is this?” the ugly shifter asked.

  “A Fate. Kill it. It’ll disappear that way,” another shifter replied.

  “I can’t hit no guy in a skirt.”

  “Take the goddamned skirt off then.”

  The ugly shifter reached over and grabbed William’s skirt. He yanked and the cloth ripped at the seams, revealing a shiny red thong.

  “Jesus, William,” Gavin muttered.

  William shrugged helplessly. “You never know when you’re going to get lucky.”

  “You’re banging Quentin nightly. You know damn well when you’re going to get lucky.”

  William actually turned red before someone delivered him a punch to the face that knocked him out cold.

  “He didn’t disappear.”

  “That’s cuz you didn’t kill him. Leave him. He’s unconscious. He won’t bother us. Come on. He’s here. It’s time to collect.”

  Gavin was left alone with an unconscious William as the rest of the pack of Rakshasa moved to the other side of a moonlit clearing, presumably to wait for their boss.

  The entire thing was a setup, Gavin realized now. It wasn’t Sydney they wanted, it was him, just as he expected. Except somehow, they’d caught Gavin unaware, and the only way that was possible was if they had inside help. Someone on his team was a traitor. Someone on his team had sold Sydney out. If he got out of this alive, he would kill the bastard with his bare hands, very, very slowly. But since it didn’t look as if he would get out of this alive, his next best hope was to wake William and warn him, so he could get Sydney out of there, fast.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gavin reached as far as the rope around his wrists would let him, trying to toe William in the leg.

  “Don’t waste your time.”

  Gavin froze when he heard the voice. He knew that voice. He recognized that voice. Slowly, as he fervently hoped he was wrong, Gavin twisted his head around.

  And found himself staring into the face of the man he had intended to mate with Sydney.

  “Fuck me,” Gavin muttered, staring at Brandon, who walked through the gang of shifters as if he owned them. As if he was their boss. As if he was the one who had set this entire scene up in the first place.

  “No thanks,” Brandon said as he nudged William’s arm with his foot. William groaned and rolled over, face first, into the snow. “You look like hell, Gavin.”

  “Yeah, getting the shit beat out of you while you’re hanging helpless from a tree tends to do that to a guy. Why don’t you let me down? Give me a fair shake.”

  “No fucking way. I’m not stupid. Obviously. I tricked you, didn’t I?” Brandon tugged a cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a button. He watched Gavin while he spoke into the phone.

  “It’s me. A quarter of the money we discussed, transferred to the account number I gave you before I left.” He glanced over his shoulder at the wall of Rakshasa. “I’ll transfer the rest myself, when I’m back, safe and sound.” He disconnected the call.

  “That wasn’t the deal, asshole,” the ugly shifter growled.

  Brandon shrugged, unruffled. “Again, I’m not stupid. If I’d transferred the entire amount, you’d kill me as soon I kill him. This way, you get just enough to know I have the money, and I make it home alive. You’ll get the rest, like I told my admin, when I’m home, safe and sound.”

  Several shifters growled, but in the end, there was nothing they could do about it, unless they wanted to cut their losses and walk away now. Which, obviously, they did not. Brandon turned back to Gavin, leaned close and sniffed.

  “You smell like Chala,” he said and flinched when Gavin jerked at the ropes holding his wrists. Brandon growled and stepped away, clearly annoyed at himself for flinching.

  The cluster of Rakshasa pressed closer and Brandon barked at them to stay back. “You’ll get your money. But this kill is mine. All mine.”

  The group fidgeted restlessly, clearly not ready to leave until the kill was complete.

  “Go,” Brandon said in an authoritative voice, and finally, the ugly one, who was obviously some sort of leader, turned and ran, shifting into the form of an animal as he did so. The rest of the shifters followed suit, until Brandon was alone in the woods with Gavin and the unconscious Fate.

  “I’m sort of pissed off that I’m not going to enjoy this as much as I would like,” Brandon commented as he paced a circle around Gavin. Gavin followed him with his gaze, as best as he could. “I’ve sort of come to grudgingly respect you, you know. And I’m really annoyed that you’re in love with the damn Chala.”

  “Then why kill me? And why this way? You’ve had plenty of opportunity, out at Hilde’s place. Why go through all this?”

  “Because this way, your death is blamed on the Rakshasa, and I can maintain my position within your pack. Or, more likely, I’ll even take over the pack, since you’ll be gone. No one else is quite up to snuff.”

  “Sydney could handle it.”

  “She’s a female. And a Chala. She’ll be too busy birthing future Chala and Light Ones to have time to run things.”

  Okay, it was official. He sucked at choosing a mate for Sydney.

  “What the hell did I ever
do to you? I never met you until just a few weeks ago.”

  “No, you’ve never met me before. But you’ve met my mother. Yvonne Haines. Ring any bells?”

  “No. Did I fuck her? There’ve been so many, I’m afraid I’ve lost count over the years.”

  Brandon punched him. Gavin wheezed and spit out another wad of blood.

  “Well, you’re certainly making this easier now.”

  “So I did fuck her. Huh. I don’t even remember if she was good.”

  Brandon bared his teeth and growled. “No, you didn’t fuck her, you bastard. You killed her. She was a Chala. And you killed her, you sick, pitiful excuse for a shifter.” He punched Gavin again.

  Gavin gasped as the air left his lungs. He struggled to suck in enough oxygen to breathe. He was pretty sure he was now in possession of a few cracked ribs. He wondered if one of them hadn’t punctured a lung.

  “Aw, Christ, Brandon. I killed a lot of Chala over the years. But I haven’t killed one in two hundred years. Are you telling me you’ve honestly held a grudge this long?”

  “Yes,” Brandon snapped. “She was my mother!”

  Gavin let his head hang on his chest. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I was a bastard. Hell, I still am. But I don’t kill Chala anymore. I save them. I was cursed two hundred years ago. Cursed to remember everything I did, and to protect the very beings I used to try to destroy. Every single day I live with that guilt and try to make amends for it. Every single day. And despite that, I understand how you feel. And you have every right to feel that way.” His body shuddered as he tried to take a breath.