by Rye Brewer
“Spare me the macho stoicism. I know when there’s a problem.” I looked in Micah’s direction.
He stood on the corner, hands in the pockets of his jeans. When he leaned against a light post, he reminded me of something from a magazine ad. Mr. Cool, Mr. Untouchable. The guy every passing person stopped to take a look at.
“I’m not trying to patronize you. I’m truly not.” He looked over to where Micah waited for us. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course.” I ran my hand over his cheek. “I love you, too.”
“That’s all I need to know.” He took my hand and led me down the street.
There was most definitely something going on if he needed a reminder of my love for him I’d have a conversation with Micah once the hunt was finished. If our friendship or whatever was between us got in the way of Gage and me, I knew what my decision needed to be. No contest. I would rather live as a nomad, exploring Europe like a couple of backpacking kids and sleeping in hostels, than lose my love. I needed him more than blood.
We moved on to the truly seedy part of the neighborhood and went to work as we always did. I took the lead, generally attracting the young men leaving the sex shops and bars, careful to avoid the ones who looked too drunk or sickly. It grew easier to pick out viable choices as time went on. My instincts were sharper than they’d ever been.
The smell of lust and booze and stale cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air as I surveyed the landscape before me. There was an interesting trio standing outside a bar, all three of them smoking and laughing and generally energized by their environment. A man and two women, probably college age or a little older, but none of them looked as though they had spent much time studying. Rough around the edges, tough, the sort of people who had grown up on the streets and didn’t know any other sort of life. I couldn’t think of them in those terms, however, or I’d start to feel sorry for them. That would be the end of that.
I threw a look over my shoulder to signal that I’d found our prey and was about to close in, to ask if they would like to join us someplace more intimate, when the harsh glow of headlights caught my attention. It spilled across the front of the building and illuminated the three smokers, who quickly scattered with their hands up in front of their eyes.
I spun, surprised and a little angry at whoever had just scared off my evening meal. I couldn’t see much, thanks to the blinding light, and the way Micah swooped in and bundled me off into a nearby alley meant I didn’t get the chance to see what was happening.
“What is it? Where’s Gage?” I gasped, but there was no freeing myself from him as he pressed me against the cold, brick wall.
His breath was hot in my ear. “Be quiet. Don’t say a word,” he hissed.
My heart seized. Where was Gage? I couldn’t see anything but Micah’s chest, the black sweater he wore. He was breathing hard and heavy, to the point where I could hear nothing else. It was agony, waiting for something to happen. Anything. Not knowing why we were hiding.
“I think the coast is clear,” he whispered, giving me a little space to breathe easier.
I brushed myself off with both hands. “What the hell just happened? Where is Gage? I didn’t see anything out there.”
He looked down at me, distress written all over his face. “Oh, Cari… I don’t know how to say this…”
“Just spit it out.” It was killing me, the way he hesitated.
He grimaced. “It was the League. Three members. I recognized them from way back, when I was part of that world. They took him.”
“They took Gage? They found us?” I grabbed him by the sweater’s V-neck and heard it shredding in my claws. “They know we’re here?”
“I suppose they do. I’m not sure.” He eased himself out of my grip. “I don’t know if they know you’re here or not. I don’t actually know much more than you do, only that I knew those men and who must’ve sent them.”
The world spun sickeningly fast around me. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. How was I supposed to go on without him? When it would be all my fault if they killed him—or when, since it was fairly inevitable that they would? I fell back against the wall, sliding down as my legs gave out and a heartbroken cry slipped out of my mouth.
“I have you.” Micah pulled me to my feet and held me up. “I have you. I won’t let you go.”
“I love him, and it’s all my fault,” I whispered before the tears began to fall, fast and hot and choking me with their intensity. “What am I supposed to do? Where can I go? They’ll want me, too!”
“I’ll keep you safe,” he crooned into my ear, stroking my hair with one hand while the other arm held me fast around my waist. “I swear, I won’t let anybody hurt you. It’s the least I can do for him.”
He did his best to comfort me, though it was of little help. It all sort of faded into the background of my mind as I mourned and panicked and blamed myself for anything that happened to Gage.
Meanwhile, outside the alley, life went on as usual. As though we didn’t exist—because, of course, we weren’t supposed to.
I wasn’t supposed to.
My existence was a crime Gage would have to pay for.
38
Gage
The first thing to register in my consciousness after I opened my eyes was the sole light bulb hanging from a cord in the center of the room. A bare bulb, no shade or ornamentation. Barely any light, either. It did little to pierce the foreboding darkness which surrounded me.
I blinked hard, shaking my head in the hopes of clearing it but only serving to send shooting pain all through it, then down my neck and across my shoulders. Something had hit me. Something hard. Or someone. Someone wielding a weapon.
It hurt to think. It hurt to blink, for that matter. But I had to think. I had to make sense of what was happening, how I had ended up where I was. Where I was, too.
I recognized nothing around me, but that wasn’t surprising. The only place in Paris I had any experience with was the Catacombs, and I was not there. The smell of death wasn’t prevalent, the way it was back there. Not that it smelled wonderful by any means, but there was a distinct difference.
Cari. Where was Cari? “Hello?” I whispered, wincing as fresh pain slashed its way through my head. There was no response. “Cari?” I attempted. It came out as more of a whimper than anything else, but to no avail. I heard nothing but the sound of my breathing and a steady dripping sound from somewhere nearby.
What happened, damn it? I had to focus, no matter how much it hurt. I needed to know who I was dealing with. Or what. I told myself to ignore the steady thudding in the back of my head, where I’d been hit—turning my head to the side, so the back was no longer against the floor, was helpful. I was definitely on a floor. A cold, damp floor. Not the most comfortable surface I’d ever slept on, by far. Who in the hell would put me on a floor in what was starting to look more and more like a cell the longer I spent looking around? There were even bars in front of me, or rather to the right of me. My face was merely turned in that direction. On the left was a stone wall.
I checked in with my body next. I could feel everything—legs, feet, arms, and hands. Good thing, too, since something scurried around nearby and I waved my hands to scare it off. Being unable to move while rodents inspected me would’ve been a special kind of torture.
I felt the stone under my back. I took a deep breath and my lungs filled with no trouble. It seemed as though the only real problem was with my head.
I remembered being on the street, and… something. Something sudden, something unexpected. A… something.
Come on, Gage. Think. Think!
Bright light. A flood of bright light. And a sharp pain. Hands gripping my arms, throwing me into a car. I remembered hitting the seat and being unable to pull myself up, being shoved around as others joined me. Dark clothing. The swaying of the car as we sped through the night, while I went in and out of consciousness before staying out until I awoke on the stone floor.
I was underground. It was the only guess that made sense. I heard none of the sounds of the city—in that respect, it wasn’t unlike being in the Catacombs. A basement, a dungeon. Something like that. I couldn’t imagine who would do such a thing, unless there was a branch of the League in Paris that I hadn’t known about.
The League!
My pulse quickened, staring out at the unknown beyond the rusted bars. Were they behind this? It was more than likely so. They must’ve found out where I’d taken Cari and had come for us. Was it Jonah? Had he sent them? Was he that evil? His own brother. Would he do that to me?
Footsteps.
My heartbeat quickened as I wondered whether to pretend to be unconscious or face my jailor. I wished I had some clue as to who I’d be facing. It wouldn’t be Jonah, would it? No. Even if he were behind it, he wouldn’t do the dirty work himself. That was for underlings, not the interim leader of the League. Not for the head of the Bourke clan.
Bile rose in my throat when I sat up, and the cell spun dangerously. It didn’t stop me from standing, even though I felt myself swaying back and forth a little.
I leaned my back against the wall for support and flinched when the cold wetness which coated the stones seeped into my shirt.
The steps grew louder, louder.
I held my breath as a figure emerged from the thick darkness and came closer to the bars. A figure dressed in black. Tall, dark-haired…
I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it coming. It was a fatal move, exposing so much of myself to him. Showing my hand, telling him I would leave and take Cari with me. He couldn’t let that happen, could he?
“Micah.” The name soured in my mouth. “You did this?”
“Did what?” He looked around with a sneer. “Oh, this? It didn’t take much. Just determination and the certainty that I couldn’t let you take her away.”
“I knew this was about her the moment I recognized you. I didn’t think you’d be one to let a woman destroy your common sense—then again, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
He cringed, and I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up, but I needed to at least feel as though I had a little of my own back. I wouldn’t be his victim, cowering and begging for mercy.
When he recovered, a nasty smile crept across his face. “Yes, well, you should know. Right?”
“Right.” I fought the need to throw myself at the bars, to snarl and curse him and foam at the mouth. That would only be tantamount to giving him what he most wanted: the satisfaction of breaking me down. “Does she know anything about this?”
“Naturally, she knows you were taken away. I led her to believe it was the League who did it.”
Yes. He would. She’d be terrified and fall into his protective embrace. The filthy bastard. I had to find a way out, was all. There was no choice. I had to save her from him.
“Hmm. Has anyone ever told you, old friend, that you would make a terrible professional card player? Everything you think writes itself on your face.”
“What am I thinking?”
“That you’re going to find a way to break out.”
“I don’t think that’s a stretch. Do you? Who wouldn’t want to break out of here?”
“Fair enough.” He took the bars in his hands, shaking them as though he tested their strength. “You could try—do not take it personally when I tell you I have little faith in your success.”
I sneered. “Why would I take that personally, now?”
He stepped back, further and further away. The visit was over, I supposed.
“You have nothing to worry about, Gage,” he assured me as he faded back into the shadows. “All you have to do is stay here for the rest of your life. I’ll take care of Cari for you. We’ll be very happy. I’ll even make sure she never forgets you.” His dry, humorless laugh faded into silence.
I dropped folded my arms over my knees, resting my forehead on them.
Alone.
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed Salvation! I can’t wait to bring you the next book in this series!
You might have to turn the page to see the cover of Vindication!
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Copyright © 2016 by Rye Brewer
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