Assassins Bite (17 page)

He opened his mouth. Fang tips ran lightly across the flesh. Teasing.

“Blackthorne,” I breathed.

“Aiden.” Again he ran his fangs along my throat, a little harder, the sharp tips gently scoring, foretaste driving me wild.

“Aiden,
please
.”

He bit.

Twin forks of lightning skewered me. I screamed, arching so hard the top of my skull touched floor. So hard I saw the wall behind me.

Orgasm hit me, a wallop that blew time apart. I was a brilliant pulse of contraction and release, roaring in silence.

Seconds or hours later reality snapped back. My ears thudded with the pounding of my heart. My ribs vibrated with the rhythmic rumble of his purr. My legs fell, my bare feet hitting the carpet with a
whop
.

He licked my neck, his tongue warm, rough and strangely soothing. With a final kiss to my throat, he eased off me.

The inset and front of my white pants chilled. I'd come so hard and so long I was drenched. Glancing at him, I'd come so hard I'd also drenched his jeans, or he'd climaxed too.

He rolled onto his back and snugged me into his body. I lay in his arms, my head on his chest as our hearts slowed. This was what intercourse would be like with him. Hard yet tender, and immensely satisfying. I closed my eyes and pictured it. Me and him, laying in bed on a lazy Saturday morning, making intense love and then relaxing together, reading or watching television… My eyes snapped open.

I could see it, far too clearly.

“What's wrong?” he murmured sleepily.

“Nothing. Since I won our match, are you going to stop smothering me now? Let me do my job to protect and serve?”

“You didn't win.” He wasn't sounding so sleepy anymore. With a heaved sigh, he rolled to his feet then offered me his hand.

I took it and found myself instantly standing. “Well, you didn't win either.” I glared into his eyes.

The corners wrinkled in amusement. “Debatable.” He wrapped an arm around me and ushered me out of the practice area. We both bowed and he opened the door and let me precede him, then steered me downstairs. “Let's call it a draw.”

“Let's not.” I dug in my heels when he steered me into the women's changing area. Useless. “You can't come in here.”

“Why not? No one's around to see.” He lay my badge and gun on the bench—my head must have been totally blown because I hadn't even thought of them—twisted my combination into my lock and snapped it open.

“How did you…? Never mind. You can't stay. I'm going to change. You'd see me naked.”

“Good.” His gaze traveled along my body like a match.

Jump-starting my heart again. “Not a draw. Neither of us wins? Why'd we spar in the first place?”

His eyes rose to mine and his mouth got serious. “To let off some emotional steam?”

Damn, he was smart.

“Tell you what. Let's both do the forfeits. You call me Aiden.”

“And you'll leave me alone?”

“Yes,
if
.” He reached past me into my locker. Came out with my phone, thumbed and swept, then handed it to me. “That's my cell number. I'll respect your need to defend yourself if you promise to call me when you need help. No,
before
you need help.”

I stared into his black eyes. He was as deadly serious as I'd seen him. “It's not necessary. I can take care of myself.”

“Humor me. Please.”

I huffed. “All right. Only because you'll nag me until I do.”

“Good. We have a deal.” He turned and glided out.

I ran after. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Keeping my end of the bargain. Trusting you on your own.” He smiled briefly, and while I was dazzled, disappeared up the stairs.

I turned and slowly made my way back to the changing room. I stared at the phone in my hand. I now had a direct line to Aiden Blackthorne. I got the feeling he didn't hand that out very often at all.

Then I slapped my forehead. He'd distracted me so much that I'd totally forgotten to pump him for information about what he'd done for Dirk.

Chapter Nineteen

Aiden Blackthorne was not happy. Ric wasn't answering his phone and was nowhere to be found.

It was the night after Aiden had sparred, most pleasurably, with Sunny. Assuming his friend had gone all lone cowboy on him immediately after their conversation at the Caffeine Café, Ric had been off the grid for a full twenty-four hours now and Aiden suspected the worst—both Ric and Synnove were in Eloise's clutches.

If only he had checked on his friend sooner. But pumping his blood into the human husk that was Dirk Ruffles,
turning him as Nosferatu had turned so many helpless boys
…then bolting down a single bag of replacement blood, even though he was thirsty as hell, because he didn't want to leave Sunny alone for five minutes—bad enough. Owing Strongwell was worse.

But it all paled to seeing Sunny in distress. That nearly broke him. He'd donate a hundred pints, owe a thousand favors, before he'd go through that again.

Foreboding splashed through his veins a moment before his phone started vibrating. He knew who it was without looking. He snapped it out. “Hello, Eloise.”

A taken-aback pause. Then a laugh, to his ears nervous. “You always were a showoff, Aiden.”

He growled. “If you've harmed Ric or Synnove—”

“No! I haven't hurt anyone.” Her tone became sulky. “I'm not the bad guy here. I just want your help.”

“By kidnapping a friend's wife?”

“That? I learned that from you. It's all about knowing pain points. Synnove is Ric's pain point and Ric is yours. Control Synnove and I control you.”

Ice filled his chest but he kept his voice steady as he bit out, “What do you want?”

“What I
should
have gotten decades ago when you ran away. You, facing up to my father. I have Ric. Meet us at Nosferatu's mansion. Use Ric's bloodscent to find the secret way inside. I don't want any of my father's bully-boys finding you before you get a chance to free me.”

“Eloise—damn it.” She'd ended the call.

Aiden clapped the phone to his forehead in frustration. Why hadn't Ric trusted him?

Didn't matter. He resolutely pocketed the phone. All that mattered now was getting Ric and his pregnant mate out of that madwoman's grasp.

He put in a call to Logan Steel. “You located Synnove Holiday's phone for me yesterday. I need you to give me a record of her most recent calls, in and out.”

“On it.” Keys clicked rapidly.

“I'll owe you for this,” Aiden said.

“Don't worry about it. I enjoy this sort of stuff. Just wish you'd tell me what's going on.” The clicking stopped abruptly. “Well, well. Mostly calls to Minnesota numbers except for several to a Chicago number, all at least half an hour long.”

Aiden's blood chilled. “Nosferatu?”

“Nope.” A few mouse clicks. “That's her sister's number. Alexis Byornsson. But get this. One call to her sister, thirty-five seconds in duration. Made two nights ago. I might be able to trace back cell tower info and get the phone's location at the time.”

“Do it.” Aiden clenched a fist. This was the first break he'd gotten.

No, he'd gotten a second. “Synnove's sister lives in Chicago? Let me have that phone number.”

Steel recited it, then gave him the good news. “The origination of that thirty-five-second call is the Chicago Museum Campus.”

Aiden punched air. He now had a viable plan. He called Synnove's sister, was impressed when she didn't ask questions but listened and said yes. He donned his weapons vest, filled it with death, and threw his oversized jacket over it as cover. On further thought, he grabbed an extra couple flashbangs and pocketed them too.

He paused. If he did this, he'd be leaving Sunny defenseless in Meiers Corners.

No, he'd promised to let her fight her own battles.

Besides, Eloise had only waylaid her to get to him. He'd be in Chicago. There was no reason for her to hurt Sunny in Meiers Corners.

He got a pup truck and headed for Nosferatu's east side mansion.

Aiden made two stops. The first, he filtered into a small free clinic. A woman was preparing a hypodermic needle. She was tall, blonde and buxom—almost Synnove's twin, but older. He stepped from the shadows.

Dr. Alexis Byornsson startled. Put a hand to her breastbone, not the one holding the needle. “Sorry. Your kind is so quiet.”

He took a dangerous step closer. “What do you know of my kind?”

“Nothing I'm not supposed to.” She grinned and in her sparkling blue eyes he could see the echo of Ric's mate. He instinctively liked her. “Although I'm curious. Are you sure you want me to…” She mimed drawing her blood. “Don't you want to…” She clacked her teeth.

He shuddered. The thought of drinking directly from any female who wasn't small, dark and tightly muscled…wasn't happening. “I'm sure.”

“All right then.” She efficiently prepared her arm. “You have an idea where to look?”

“Yes. Your sister is a fighter. Amazing that she managed that phone call to you.”

“She's smart too. From the bit I overheard, she must have voice-dialed. Here you go.” She'd drawn half a collection tube.

“Thanks.” He went back to the truck and drove to the campus before he poured the blood into his mouth. The bright flavor hit his tongue and rose into his nose. He closed his eyes, searching for the scent/taste, then
like
the scent/taste…and he knew where Synnove was.

The second stop was only long enough to break a few heads. Synnove was unconscious but breathing. He settled her into the passenger seat and was about to check closer when his phone vibrated.

“W
here are you?” Eloise sounded testy.

“On my way. There was traffic.”

“You'd better get here soon. Right, Ric?”

In the background, Ric made a throttled groan.

Synnove would have to wait. For Ric's sake, it was time to meet Eloise. He strapped Ric's mate in, started the engine and drove.

The closer Aiden got to Nosferatu's, the more his bad feelings intensified. Well short of brownstone, he parked the truck. Synnove was breathing easily so he left her there and got out. He approached the area of Nosferatu's mansion on foot, alternately checking his internal blood sense for Ric and casting on the air for his scent. By Aiden's estimation his friend was underground immediately south of the vampire lair. He prowled from shadow to shadow, easily avoiding the mansion's direct sightlines. Unlike most swank estates, Nosferatu's five-story mansion was planted, not alone on rolling hills of green, but on the northeast corner of a city block, dwarfed by neighboring high-rises.

Ric's blood led Aiden to a row of townhouses lining the east side of the street. Aiden paused. Hiding in the trees and shadows of the backyards were one, two…no, three of Eloise's vampire lieutenants. He took another reading. Ric was in the first basement.

Aiden misted to get past the vampires, a bit tricky with as much gear as he carried. He felt half his ordnance slipping, and snapped solid before he lost it, barely managing to make it inside past the watching lieutenants. Damn it. He'd tanked up again after sparring but apparently full veins and a day in the soil weren't enough to completely replace his vampire edge. Thank goodness he hadn't had to do a complete draining for Dirk. He'd seen the effects of that, and it wasn't pretty.

Aiden clenched his will, mentally grabbed his gear and misted again. As bits slipped he arrowed as fast as he could down the stairs of the townhouse.

He snapped back in a rec room dated by its damp-smelling carpeting and peeling wood-panel veneer. Overlaying the musty odor was the earthy smell of an old-fashioned cellar. No humans but plenty of rats. Sharp on top was the scent of Ric and Eloise.

Aiden considered using the blood scent/taste to mist directly to Ric. But no, Eloise would expect that. Be ready with some sort of trap. Though it chafed, he'd have to use old-fashioned walking.

The physical smell led him through a doorway into a smaller room with more paneling, acoustic ceiling tile and a desk, lit by a desk lamp. An office of some sort, though it smelled stale and unused. Upstairs, he heard Eloise's three vampires filtering into the townhouse. They stopped. Following him, but keeping their distance.

Aiden eased into the room, his gums and fingernail beds tingling, fangs and claws fighting to emerge.

The desk had been pushed away from the wall, revealing a section of peeled-up carpet, beneath which was an open metal hatch. The hole was stygian, even to his vampire eyes. But scent said Ric was down there. And by the tang, his friend was scared.

An earth-corer of a bad feeling drilled Aiden's gut. But what choice did he have? He carefully lowered himself into the hole. No ladder or bottom met his feet. Ric's presence was moving rapidly away. Aiden gritted teeth against frustration and dropped. Ten feet down he landed like a cat on soft soil, in a tunnel that smelled of freshly turned earth. Above him, the three vampires had moved into the basement.

“Well finally.” Eloise's voice floated from half a block away, at the other end of the tunnel. “What took you so long? Never mind. Try to keep up.”

His instincts flared red alert. The trio could wait. He again considered mist, rejected it. Not only was Eloise a known hostile, Nosferatu laced his stronghold with traps specifically tuned to vampires. Aiden banged into a run.

The faint light from the office disappeared. His world tinted red. Without light, a human would be blind, but vampire eyes made their own.

Ahead, Ric and Eloise were at a T intersection. Eloise carried a bazooka on her back. He wondered what the hell good she thought that would do against dozens of Nosferatu's guards. Ric's shoulders were cramped, as if he was handcuffed.

They were still too far ahead, but Aiden would catch them as they paused to check for traps. He considered his options as he slowed to a silent glide. Incapacitate Eloise and try to extract Ric, or try to extract him under Eloise's nose?

But they didn't pause. Eloise grabbed Ric's arm and sailed around the corner, straight into a cinder block passage.

Every hair on Aiden's neck rose. If there were motion sensors…

Alarms whooped.

He ran after them, consigning Eloise to rot in hell.

At the tunnels' intersection, precise glances, won from a thousand deadly situations, informed him of the existence and placement of motion detectors, trip wires…oh, this was not good at all. Instinct shouted at him to get out of there, now.

But he'd never leave Ric.

He put on a burst of speed.

Amid the jangle of sound Eloise ran, dragging a protesting Ric, ignoring all obstacles—including the tripwires. Aiden had nearly caught up when her foot hit one.

A dozen pencil-size arrows
thwipped
from tiny holes in the wall. Eloise ducked, barely evading them.

Ric wasn't so lucky. Half a dozen hit him.

The thud-thud-thud turned Aiden's stomach to acid. If the arrows were silver…he tamped down the need to mist to his best friend's aid. Nosferatu's wire would trip more than the arrows. Mist was the method of choice for escape. There'd be a trap specially tuned for the exposed state.

Flames shot out of the wall, inches from Aiden's nose. He froze.

Ahead, Eloise tugged along a stumbling Ric. They turned a corner, disappearing from Aiden's sight.

“Fuck.” The instant the flames ebbed, he shot forward, flying around the corner into a low-ceilinged chamber.

He nearly plowed into the ring of Lestat vampires. Eloise stood in the center. She shouted, “Get Nosferatu. Get him for me immediately.”

Her arm circled Ric's bent frame. Ric held his belly, breathing heavily.

Something was very wrong, silver arrows or worse. Aiden needed to get Ric out
now
. Fighting his way through the mass of Lestats to snatch Ric from Eloise would take too long. He needed a distraction.

“I don't know how you got in,” one of the Lestats was saying. “But we'll get the master, all right. Then we'll watch him take you apart.”

Aiden reached under his jacket for a smoke bomb. A pull of the ring and a toss, and the air around the gang was filled with white smoke so thick even vampire sight was obscured. In seconds, a dozen shadowy lumps bent over, coughing.

Aiden ghosted through and grabbed Ric's arm. “Come on.”

But Ric pulled sluggishly away from him. Horror slashed Aiden's chest.

Eloise saw and stabbed at Aiden with a knife. “No! I control Synnove, I control him. You're not taking him from me again. He's mine!”

He was an imbecile.
Ric still thought Synnove was captive. Aiden opened his mouth to tell his friend the good news.

“
Stop
.”

The command rang in Aiden's very cells, locking both mouth and legs.

It was Nosferatu, their maker.

“What is going on here?” The voice was dry and dead, like air from a sarcophagus opened after millenniums.

Aiden strained to move, but even his tremendous willpower only made his muscles twitch. As the vampire who made him, Nosferatu's hypnotic power was magnified a hundred times. Last time Aiden and Ric went up against Nosferatu with an immune human to reverse the suggestion. This time they had nothing.

The master vampire strode unaffected through the haze, but he was old and powerful—or maybe he was simply as dry and dead as the smoke. His gaze, finding Eloise, softened slightly. “Welcome home, my dear. You'll never leave me again.” His eyes flicked over Ric. “Holiday. You don't look so good.”

He turned. “Blackthorne. Thank you for finding Eloise.” With a cold smile he raised what looked like a flare gun but was probably much more lethal. “Now you
die
.”

“No!” Eloise, still holding on to Ric, stepped between them. “This is not how it's supposed to be.”