by Anne Hope
Cal placed his palm on her chest, right above her breasts in a gesture that wasn’t the least bit lascivious. “He’s part of you now. Without you, he’s an empty vessel, lost, adrift. Trust me, he’ll come. He has no choice.”
Something was wrong. Jace sensed it, felt it in the hollow of his bones. Lia’s fear burned through his system worse than the angel’s blood had. It ate away at him, called to him.
I’m going insane.
Lia was at the hospital, safe and sound. Why then was he convinced trouble had found her?
Because he’d nearly drowned there. Because that was where his would-be murderer worked. He never should’ve let Lia leave that morning, but since he had no power over her mind, he couldn’t have stopped her, short of handcuffing her to the bed. An idea that held definite appeal.
Jace ran rough fingers through his hair, blew out a slow string of air. He was going stir-crazy in here, but he wasn’t sure it was wise for him to go roaming around the streets again. He’d unwittingly caused the death of one innocent woman, had nearly beheaded that murderous bastard, Viper, then gotten cut himself. Violence seemed to dog his every step.
A dull ache radiated from his wrists. He hadn’t thought he was capable of pain. Not the regular, run-of-the-mill kind. He rolled his hands, noticed the faint blue ring coloring his flesh. He hadn’t as much as gotten a hangnail today. There was no reason for him to be bruising this way. Maybe it had something to do with the wrestling match he’d engaged in last night with that creature Marcus, or whatever his damn name was.
That strange tingle in his abdomen deepened. He needed to see Lia, to touch and hold and smell her, to reassure himself that she was all right. Needed it with an urgency that shook him. He grabbed the phone and dialed the number for the hospital, which Lia had hastily scribbled on a pad before leaving for work that morning. Each ring only served to widen the ragged emptiness inside him. He had to go through several receptionists before he was finally transferred to her department. The voice that greeted him at the end of the line was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Must have been one of the nurses he’d met while he’d been holed up there.
“I haven’t seen her in hours. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll page her.”
“I would appreciate it.”
Grating elevator music followed as he was placed on hold. Hours seemed to elapse instead of minutes. Finally, the perky voice trickled through the line again. “I’m sorry, she’s not answering her pager. I don’t get it. The doc is really good about that.”
Strange sensations still swam through his bloodstream, a result of the odd experience he’d had at the train station yesterday, and anxiety drummed a vicious beat against his temples. “How about Diane? She there?”
There was a slight hesitation. “She’s not in today.”
The urgency spiked, razor-sharp and insistent. He hung up the phone without wasting time on a goodbye or a thank you. His hands curled into fists. Something was up, and it wasn’t good. If that creature as much as laid a finger on Lia, he’d choke the life out of her. He’d bring her to her knees, make her beg for mercy.
But first he had to find her. The question was how?
A plan took shape in his mind. Diane wanted him dead. She hadn’t exactly made a secret of that. If he set himself up as bait, she’d come for him. It was obvious what he had to do—he had to go home and wait for hell to come knocking at his door again.
Heaven rarely smiled upon the wicked, but today it did. Diane had been staking out Jace Cutler’s apartment all night, unsure if he’d be dumb enough to go home. It just went to show there was no accounting for stupidity, because here he was, strutting up the walkway.
The previous evening she’d caught sight of that Watcher Marcus checking the place out, too, and had quickly ducked for cover behind the shrubs. Thankfully, the traitorous dog had been too focused on Cutler’s scent to catch a whiff of hers. He’d obviously been a few hours too early.
All the better for her.
Athanatos had given her an assignment, and she had every intention of completing it. But she’d have to be careful this time, take him off guard. His ability to control her mind was a real spoke in her wheels. One she’d never anticipated. Kleptopsychs and Hybrids had the capacity to manipulate human thoughts and memories, to bring out a person’s darkest fears, to help humanity reconnect with its true nature before morality had crept in to spoil everything. But any influence they had was limited to creatures with souls. That Jace Cutler could exert that kind of power over a soulless entity like her defied logic.
She’d need to assault him from a distance, cut off the air supply to his home, seal him in. There were only two ways to kill a Hybrid—one was to impale him with a blade coated in angel’s blood, the other was to drown him. She had no angel’s blood on hand, so the second option would have to do.
Diane was special in that she possessed the ability to control water. She could summon a wave from the ocean as high as a hundred feet, make the clouds crack open and unleash a torrent of rain upon an unsuspecting target or flood an apartment until its occupant looked like a hapless fish swimming in an aquarium.
She raised her arms, turned her palms toward the sky and summoned the atmosphere’s power. Blood pounded at her fingertips, a violent rush of energy expanding in concentric circles around her. Those electric waves traveled through the air, slid past the thick brick walls of Cutler’s building, wormed their way through the plumbing. Then all the faucets began to gush. The more she concentrated, the faster the water flowed. She could feel the level rising, fast and furious.
Just like the Great Flood.
Athanatos never failed to remind her how close they’d come to being wiped out, all because of their greed. Heaven’s wrath had produced a storm so violent, it had nearly washed the earth clean of their kind. Thankfully, some had survived, and their ranks had grown again. Those survivors were now referred to as the Ancients. Athanatos was one of them.
If she completed this mission successfully, perhaps she’d one day command the same respect by becoming his mate. She was tired of living in the shadows, feeding in dark alleys, lying in wait like a snake in the grass. For years she’d tried to live among the humans, to act as one of them, to work alongside them, but part of her knew she’d never truly belong. She belonged at Athanatos’s side, ruling over her own kind.
But for that to happen, Jace Cutler had to die.
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re wasting your time.” Lia shifted in her chair, tried to get comfortable, which was pointless. Her body ached nearly as much as her wrists. “He’s not coming.”
Marcus’s back was turned to her, but he angled his head her way at the sound of her voice. Cal had left some time ago, leaving her alone with the man who’d kidnapped her.
“He’ll come.”
“How do you expect him to find me? I don’t even know where in God’s name I am.”
He pivoted around to face her, and she almost wished for his wide back again. Those frigid blue eyes sent a chill skittering over her flesh. “Cal will give him a sign when it’s time.”
“Can you at least loosen these bindings? My hands are about to atrophy.”
For a second she could’ve sworn he looked regretful, but it was probably just the play of shadows on his face. “Sorry, I can’t. He needs to feel your distress.”
“Right. Of course. What was I thinking?”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. “I know none of this makes any sense to you, but believe me when I say we know what we’re doing. If Cutler doesn’t join us, he’ll either end up dead or out of control. I’ve seen it happen, more times than I care to count. So sit tight. It will all be over soon.”
Lia hated being told what to do, let alone having someone impose his will on her. Being bound this way was a serious blow to her independence, not to mention her ego. Her wrists weren’t the only things that were bruised. “I need to use the bathroom,” she lied.
A dubious fro
wn skated across his face. “What I would give to be able to read you.” He studied her for a second or two, then decided to believe her. With expert fingers, he unfastened the ropes. “Come on.” Clamping his hand around her arm, he dragged her to her feet.
He led her down a narrow steel hallway, from which other corridors branched, forming an intricate maze. The place looked like some elaborate military base where experiments were conducted in secret, far removed from society’s prying eyes.
He stopped in front of another steel door, yanked it open and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Knock yourself out.”
She pretended to take a step toward the doorway. The instant he released his hold on her, she bolted. It was a crazy attempt at freedom. He was bigger and faster, and she had no frigging idea where she was going.
As she expected, she didn’t get far. In a blink he was in front of her, blocking her way. “You can’t outrun me, so don’t bother trying.”
She backed away from him. Desperation strangled her, but she didn’t fall victim to it. She tamped it down and dashed off again.
Once more he zipped past her, blocked her path. “We could do this all day.”
Irrational fear suddenly sluiced through her. It was as if the cold, wet mouth of hell had opened up and swallowed her. Panic swamped her. She couldn’t breathe. A blinding white energy churned in her gut, seared her from the inside out. She had to release it or burn. As if of their own volition, her arms fanned out on either side of her. A violent blast ripped through the air, and Marcus flew back, shooting through the corridor like a silver sphere in a pinball machine. A vacuum followed, a vortex that sucked away all the air and sent her tumbling forward. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet and took the first turn on her right.
Then she ran.
Freezing water swirled around his feet, slowly rose toward his knees. Jace tried to turn off the faucets with no success. It was a repeat of the shower incident, only this time, his entire apartment was flooding at impossible speed. He’d barely walked in when the sinks and tub began to overflow.
So Diane hadn’t been far. The bitch had obviously been waiting for him, and like a total idiot he’d walked right into her trap. He’d kind of been hoping things would go the other way around. So much for setting himself up as bait. Now he’d be snack food for the spawn of Satan, chilled and well-marinated.
Forget that. No way would he check out just yet. Not before he was sure Lia was safe.
He bulleted through the apartment, tried every door and window, but nothing budged. She’d sealed him in again. Witch. If he ever got his fingers around her neck, he’d snap it.
“Why don’t you come in here and face me?” No answer. “Coward.”
He grabbed a chair, hurled it at the window. The chair splintered and crashed to the ground, but the glass failed to shatter. The water level steadily inched toward his waist.
Jace tried to connect with her mind. “Stop the flood.”
It was no use. She was too far away. Maybe he needed to make eye contact for the mental lock to work. The outcome wasn’t looking good. Still, he refused to stand here with his dick in his hand while he drowned. Somehow, he had to get himself out of this.
Chills wracked his body. Somewhere down the road of this crazy nightmare he’d developed an acute aversion to water. He dragged himself to the door, rammed his shoulder into it over and over again, hoping to tear it off its rusted hinges. No luck.
A humorless laugh snaked its way up his throat and coiled there. Everyone he met seemed to want him dead. Everyone except Lia. For some reason that evaded him, she kept trying to save his worthless life.
He felt her then, felt her energy inside him, reaching out to him, as though a tangible thread connected them. That energy swelled, strengthening him, and he was able to wield it like a weapon. Focusing, he sent an invisible current rippling through the water, shattering every window within a fifty-foot radius. Glass rained down around the building, diamond shards that made the grass sparkle in the early afternoon sunlight. Jace clawed his way to the window, clambered out, then leapt across the front lawn toward the veil of trees in the distance, where movement caught his eye.
In a flash, his attacker streaked through the woods. Jace took off in pursuit. Diane wouldn’t escape him this time. He wouldn’t allow it. He was aware of her every step, felt every shift in the breeze. Like an animal tracking its prey, he could hear the crackle of her feet crunching the ground, smell her foul scent in the air. A dark shape fluttered up ahead, and going on instinct, he lunged.
She screamed as he tackled her to the ground. Her body was curved and supple, soft and seductive, but he knew within it lay evil. An evil that froze his blood every bit as much as the water in his apartment had.
“Where’s Lia? What did you do to her?”
She tried to wriggle free, but he immobilized her by grabbing a handful of her hair.
“You’re going to die,” she snarled. “If I fail, Athanatos will come after you himself. He’s got power you can’t even fathom. He’ll obliterate you, and you’ll never see it coming.”
“Why does this Athanatos want me dead?” This time, his mind successfully ensnared hers.
“Because you’re a threat. You Hybrids are all a threat. You continuously betray your own kind.”
Nothing that came out of this woman’s mouth made one iota of sense. “Is talking in riddles a permanent condition with you?”
“Release me.”
“Not until you tell me what you’ve done with Lia.”
“Nothing. She is of no consequence to me.”
She had to be telling the truth. The mental lock wouldn’t allow her to lie, unless she’d somehow wormed her way out of it. If there was anything he was sure of, it was that he couldn’t be sure of anything.
All he knew was that Lia was in danger, and that vicious truth wrung his insides. “Where is she?” Anger expanded within him. He raised his fist, prepared to strike, then stopped. He couldn’t punch a woman. Even one as twisted as Diane.
Interest made her impenetrable eyes glisten like onyx. “Your wrist. It’s bruised.” She lifted her arm and traced the purplish-blue ring with her finger.
Jace yanked his hand away. Her touch repelled him worse than something black and slimy. “You never answered my question.”
“I told you I didn’t take your precious Lia, but I think I know who did.”
His heart hammered his ribs. “Who?”
“The Watchers.”
The forest trembled as a gust of wind assaulted the trees, then everything went silent. Diane stiffened beneath him. “He’s here.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Let me go.” She used his distraction to slither out from under him.
Before he could react, a form emerged from between the trunks of two tall maples—a giant, pewter-eyed wolf, graced with a glistening white coat and long, muscular legs. Wolves rarely wandered this close to civilization, so the sudden appearance of one threw him for a loop.
Diane backed away, refusing to take her eyes off the creature. For what seemed like a hundred heartbeats, they watched each other, woman versus beast, neither daring to move. Then she fled into the concealing shade of the forest.
Jace half expected the wolf to spring after her, but it didn’t. It held its ground, fixed a pair of intelligent, beseeching eyes on him. Weakness spread like fire through Jace’s limbs, as it always did after he used that odd power of his. Black fog fought to smother his brain. He struggled to push it back, failed.
With a defeated grunt, he finally gave in to exhaustion and collapsed, a helpless mass of flesh at the wolf’s feet.
Chapter Fourteen
Lia couldn’t explain what had just happened, the energy that had shot through her fingers, the unshakable belief that her life was in jeopardy. Her breathing was short and ragged, disrupted by the odd sob as she raced through the corridors, hoping for an exit sign. She fought to hold herself together, to box in the horror, but it kept clawing at the walls of her
resolve like a hungry wolf.
Why was she thinking of wolves? Whatever was after her was far more dangerous.
Katie’s words returned to pummel her brain. “Demons walk among us wearing human flesh. They bring out the worst in people, push them to violence, then feed on their souls.”
Was that where she was? In the demons’ lair? Was this what hell looked like? Not all fire and sulfur, but concrete and steel, ruled by a golden-haired man with the face of a saint.
She shook the insanity away. Superstitious nonsense.
Humans had enough darkness within them. They didn’t need any help from demons. She’d seen the pain people inflicted on each other firsthand, had mended stab wounds administered by a so-called loved one, had extracted bullets from gang members as young as ten years old.
Everyone had the potential for violence inside them, and she was no exception. A fact she quickly proved when she uncovered her kidnappers’ arsenal of weapons. They lay suspended from a steel rack attached to the wall in a vast metallic-gray room—blades of various shapes and sizes, all reddened by blood.
Lia knew the smell of blood well. Repugnance pooled in her throat, sank to the pit of her stomach. She grabbed one of the knives, fully intending to use it if she had to. In a refrigeration unit across from the weapons, visible through a glass door, sat numerous small vials, filled with a brownish-red substance she once again identified as blood. Thoughts of mass murderers, serial killers, deranged cults raced through her mind, and disgust morphed to terror.
What kind of nightmare had she stumbled into?
An alarm sounded, echoing off the walls like a death knell. In the distance, she could hear footsteps gathering. Soon all the members of this crazy underground society would be upon her, and there was no telling what their numbers would be.
Clamping her teeth together to choke back a sob, she bolted from this chamber of death and scurried down the narrow hallway. An impossible weight pressed down on her lungs. Her heart struggled to beat, fast and frantic. She needed to find a way out. Fast.
