Daring Fire: Paranormal Romance (Bad Boys Of The Underworld Book 2) (22 page)

She wasn’t certain, but she thought she could actually hear the sound of her neck breaking.

By the time Rok came back to temporarily stop Death from doing what he did so well, Marcus was no longer smiling.

He could feel that the silver around his wrists didn’t have much flesh left to burn through before it hit bone, but that was only a slight stinging compared to the various creative ways that Death had been using his hammer and small silver blade.

The movies would always make such a show of various instruments used for torture, but Marcus knew better. Someone who truly knew pain needed very few tools, and from the agony that currently streaked through Marcus’s entire body, Death was an expert in pain.

The worst part of this torture was the utter pointlessness of it. Not one question had been asked of him yet. This was just the warm-up for the main event. Warming Marcus up until he was desperate for a way out. Even though the agony stretched through every limb and cell, the sedative he’d been injected with seemed to be completely out of his system.

But now was his chance. Rok and Death were still in the building, but they were at least distracted for the first time since the torture had started. Marcus knew he had the physical strength to break the bonds. He just needed to steel himself to manage the pain that his escape would bring.

Before he could manage any escape, Death spoke just loud enough for Marcus to catch the end of the conversation. “The scout you sent didn’t find Kilk?”

Rok shook his head. “Make sure he tells you everything he knows.”

Kilk was missing?
A flood of hope washed through him. If he was missing, that could mean Gena was alive.

He took a deep, calming breath, and an image of Gena came to him. Gena, who had been left alone with a monster and somehow survived. He needed to get back to her. He needed to make sure this never happened again. What if she didn’t get away? They never said she was missing.

Filled with a sudden determination, Marcus shot to action. In a lightning-fast motion, he gripped the chains above him and pulled himself up as far as his arms would allow. Once his nose was level with his fists, he let his body drop and put all his renewed strength into tugging at the chains as he fell.

The combination of his weight and forceful tug was enough to rip the bolts that held the chains to the concrete ceiling, and he fell to the cement floor. He landed on the balls of his feet as the chain clattered down next to him.

Rok and Death twisted around and tensed as they realized he was free. Well, down. The silver cuffs still burned into his raw wrists, but Marcus refused to let the pain hinder him. He needed to get free. Gena needed him to get free.

He stood and squared his shoulders, staring down the two men as he waited for them to advance. Except Rok didn’t look intimidated at all. Instead, he called out, “Reinforcements!”

Two side doors at the back of the warehouse opened and six other vampires piled in, one after another. Like Groff and Kilk, these men were also covered in ink and completely unfamiliar to Marcus.
Shit.

But the longer he waited, the closer they got. He sped over to Death and swung the chain out as he moved, wrapping it soundly around his neck. Right as the other vampires approached, Marcus gave the chain a vicious tug, and the crack of his neck breaking filled the room.

He held the now unconscious vampire in front of him as he stared down the six newcomers and Rok, who stood in the back, overseeing the situation. Goff and Kilk had overpowered him in no time in his apartment.

They weren’t newly turned vamps. Each one was a pure breed with evident training in combat. But it didn’t matter whether he couldn’t take them all. He could definitely take out a few.

He unwrapped the chain and threw Death at the group of men, knocking two over as another two rushed at him. Marcus managed to elbow one in the face as the other slammed him with a right hook. As he fell back, he kicked out and connected with one of the attackers, but he couldn’t tell where.

Once he was on his back, he had to maneuver with his wrists still cuffed in front of him. One down, seven to go. He whipped his legs back and swung them forward, using the leverage to hop back on his feet as the rebels surrounded him. Holding the chain at the halfway point, he spun it in a circle, blocking the horde from rushing him. Marcus studied the men and tried to pick the weakest to go after first.

Before he had a chance to choose, a stream of bullets rained down through the doorway and Marcus dove to the left. There was no good cover, but he ducked behind the open table Death kept his supplies on.

The bullets kept coming, and it took Marcus a moment to realize none were aimed at him. The table offered no protection, and if they’d been coming for him, he’d already be immobilized. He peered beyond the table.

Vlad and his men were the ones using the gunfire to corral the rebels into a corner of the room. Once they were there, they broke out the blades and one by one, finished the job. In less than two minutes, the rebels had gone from almost killing him to all lying dead on the ground.

“You couldn’t have left one alive?” snapped Marcus.

Vlad glared at him. “You’re welcome would also work,” he bit out as he turned his sword to Marcus. In one swift swing, he brought the blade down on Marcus’s cuffs and split them in half.

Marcus pulled his arms apart, reveling in the ability to stretch again. “Cut the cuffs off. I have to find Gena.”

If it was possible, Vlad’s pale face managed to get paler. “I’m sorry, Marcus.”

Every muscle within him tensed. “You’re sorry for what?” he growled.

“I heard right before we got here. Gena stormed the Tower tonight and one of the guards got a hold of her. She’s dead.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Marie “Ironheart” Lacombe looked down at the dead human at her feet with disgust. A quick glance to one of her men, Edmund, communicated all she needed to. He swiftly lifted the dead woman in his arms and carried her to a more secluded corner, closer to the elevator entrance and away from the curious eyes of all the arriving guests. Another one of her men, Carlos, joined him and they hid the girl from the arriving guests with their bodies.

She scanned the room and to her relief, no crowd had formed. Hopefully everything had happened so quickly that no one even realized a murder had just occurred. She managed to contain her anger as she motioned for the guard who snapped the human’s neck to come to her with the slow flick of a manicured finger.

As the tall guard whom she’d never met approached her, she took in the subtle self-satisfaction that clouded his features. He looked sophisticated enough in the black tuxedo all the guards wore, but the tattoos that crept out of his white collared shirt gave away a darker side. She didn’t recognize him and that made her uneasy.

She had had a bad feeling about this night, and she hated that her worries had been justified. “What the hell just happened?” she quietly snapped at him.

His expression remained cool. “She was running in here like a maniac. I was just doing my job.”

One corner of Marie’s mouth lifted in a disgusted snarl. “Since when is it your job to snap the necks of unarmed, human women?”

She saw his muscles tighten in defensiveness. “What do you expect me to do when threatened by a human?” he countered.

“I expect you to grow a pair and actually handle the situation. She would’ve been no match for you, so I don’t see how you could possibly be such a pussy to think she was a threat,” she shot back at him.

The sound of footsteps behind her was the only thing that stopped Marie from ripping into the guard even further. She turned to see the king, Aleksander, approach. “Do we have a situation?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to tell him about the idiotic guard, but he spoke first. “No situation, sir. Just a human who had to be dealt with. Nothing important.”

Marie’s eyes narrowed as she looked back to the guard. “You don’t consider humans important?”

His eyes boldly met hers. “Not at all.”

“If I were you, I would make myself very scarce for the rest of the evening,” she said in a soft, threatening voice.

He seemed to take the hint as he silently walked away. Marie faced Aleksander. “Well, that was curious,” she muttered.

“That the evening has only just started and we already have a dead woman on our hands?” he asked. Marie studied his face but saw no hint of a smile or joking manner. He had shining gold eyes and hair that matched his stunningly attractive face. The soft colors and easy smile made it reasonable to assume he was no threat, but Marie knew better.

She’d fought beside Aleksander and knew more than most just how lethal he could be. “I have the distinct impression that he had no idea I used to be human,” she said. Anyone who knew her past would be aware of her affection for her former species and would never dare make light of a human’s death. “Who hired him?”

“Marcus took care of the security. I think his name is John, or something,” said Aleksander.

Marie couldn’t hide her surprise. “The same Marcus who just tried to kill you and the queen?”

Aleksander cast a suspicious look around him, letting her know that he was worried about being overheard. “It’s complicated,” he silently mouthed.

“Not really. He either did or he didn’t, and I now know which one,” she said with a knowing smile. She wanted to ask more but knew that now wasn’t the time. She’d have to be somewhere soundproof before she could get him to spill his secrets.

She marked it as something to look forward to.

“Get her!” shouted Edmund from behind her. In a fraction of a second, she turned to see the dead human looking decidedly alive as the elevator doors closed in front of her.

Marie’s reached for the gun strapped to her thigh as she ran for the nearest stairwell, determined to cut off the woman before she caused any more of a scene.

Sixty Seconds Earlier

Gena gradually regained her senses as she tried to remember what happened. She knew that she’d made it into the Tower, but before she made it far, she’d felt a hand wrap around her jaw. She prevented herself from grimacing as she realized that her neck had been snapped.

This was now her third time coming back from the dead. If she kept getting murdered at this pace, she was going to lose track. However, instead of focusing on the future, she needed to get out of her present situation.

She tried to gather as much information as possible without opening her eyes. First and foremost, she was being touched by at least one large man, who propped her up against a wall with a loose grip on each shoulder.

Her fingers subtly twitched and she felt the bag and sphere still in her grasp. At least she still had her leverage. She could hear the sounds of the party in the background, but she didn’t hear anyone too close to her. The man or men holding her were eerily silent. She didn’t even hear him breathe.

There were no more helpful clues she could gather through only sound and touch, so she took the chance and creaked open one eye until she could just see through her eyelashes. She noticed two men were in front of her, but neither seemed to be paying her much attention. Their sole purpose of standing near her seemed to be to hide her dead body from the guests’ eyes. Directly in front of her was the beautiful glass elevator Marcus had shown her just days before.

Her heart ached at the memory of her and Marcus, but she pushed the hurt aside. She had a job to do, and she’d damn well finish it.

The sound of the elevator doors brought her attention back. A woman in a body-clinging dress walked out of the open elevator doors. Gena saw her chance and took it without hesitation.

She ducked low and bolted for the elevator. Sure, vampires were fast, but they could be caught by surprise just like anyone else, and who wouldn’t be surprised by a woman coming back from the dead?

She let her momentum throw her full force into the glass elevator and slammed against the back wall. She turned just as the doors closed and heard the loud bang of a vampire slamming against the closed doors.

Her hand shot out as she hit the highest number she could find, wanting as much time to brace herself as possible. She caught her breath as she looked out over the Tower’s guests. Reality hit her hard when she saw that they looked right back at her.

In the back edges of the room, she saw the blurred figures that she knew were vampires running at top speed to get to her. With no time to waste, she reached into her bag and removed the glowing sphere. The soft orange light filled the elevator but was mostly diluted by the fluorescent overhead fixtures.

The elevator came to a soft halt at floor twenty-three, and she realized that security must’ve stopped the elevator from rising any higher. Gena held the sphere in front of her as her only defense and hoped for the best as the doors slid open.

She’d need all the luck she could get. There were a good dozen vampires on the other side of the door, all looking rather pissed. In the front of all of them was a stunning blonde woman with her hair tightly pulled back; her flowing black dress had a high slit up the thigh. A gun holster poked out of the slit, but she had a feeling the holster was empty because the blonde held a nasty-looking pistol, pointed directly at Gena.

“Slowly walk toward me,” said the blonde menacingly.

Gena complied and gradually walked out of the elevator, but stopped just after her feet crossed the threshold. She held the sphere up a bit higher in front of her. “Back off.”

The blonde looked curiously at the sphere. “What the hell is that?”

Before Gena could say anything, a man’s voice said, “Give that to me.”

Obviously the blonde was no rebel. This man was. Gena looked him over and realized that she recognized him. He’d been on guard duty when Marcus and she had visited the Tower. She recognized him by the hint of tattoos that poked out of his collar.

Now that she had seen the numerous tattoos on the other rebels, she realized they must mean something, though she had no idea what.

The man started to approach her and Gena lifted the sphere higher in the air. “One step closer and I’ll break it,” she threatened.

He snarled at her, but did stop in his tracks.

“What are you doing, John?” The blonde stared cautiously between the two of them.

“You have no idea what we are dealing with,” he warned.

The blonde gave Gena another once-over before she turned her gun on John. “Why don’t you explain it to me?” She cocked the weapon.

He didn’t seem worried, and in seconds it was apparent why. Eight of the other men reached into their tuxedo jackets and pulled out guns of their own. The other two men positioned themselves behind the blonde and drew their own weapons.

Though the blonde and her men didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, they were grossly outnumbered. “Get the fucking gun out of my face,” she said. “I’m not sure if you know much about me, but I do not tolerate fools, and trust me when I say that you’re being a damn fool right now.”

With those fierce words, Gena realized that she was dealing with the Ironheart woman that Marcus had talked about. Though she sure acted the part of a fierce warrior, she looked like a seventeen-year-old model. Her thin body and delicate face were not threatening, but her scowl and loaded gun went a long way to protect her badass legend.

Gena backed up toward the railing that faced the atrium of the building as the standoff continued.

John didn’t seem intimidated by her tough words. “I’m the fool? You are the one who is about to go up in flames and smoke with everyone else in this building.”

Gena’s back hit the railing that came up to her waist. She looked down at the twenty-three-story drop and gulped at the height. She couldn’t afford a gunfight right now. She needed them to pay attention to her and honor her demands.

She glanced once more at the thick, four-inch railing. A fall from this height probably wouldn’t kill her for good.
Probably.

With that not so comforting thought, Gena just went for it and quickly lifted herself to stand precariously balanced on the top of the banister.

While she kept herself from looking down, she called out, “Hey! Let’s focus here.”

John looked as if he had a small heart attack as he noticed her balancing the sphere carefully in her hands, hundreds of feet from the tile floor in the lobby.

The blonde just raised a cool eyebrow. Gena had the strange feeling that she’d just won the woman’s respect. She could use a few allies at this point.

“Get off there!” shouted John.

“Let’s get a few things straight,” said Gena. “I’m the one holding your precious glass ball, and my core strength is not good enough to keep me up here for long, so I would start giving me what I want, if I were you.”

“Glass ball?” he repeated, outraged. “You don’t even know what you have, do you?”

Gena studied the sphere. “I know you want it,” she countered. “I also know that it probably won’t survive a twenty-three-story fall.”

“I broke your neck once before. Don’t think I won’t do it again,” he threatened.

“Obviously it worked so well for you the first time,” she pointed out. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but if anything slightly hostile attacks this building, I will probably lose my balance, and you can kiss your little night-light good-bye.”

She could practically feel the rage pour off him. “You’re bluffing. You would risk your life just to destroy the key?”

That was the second time the sphere had been called a key.
What did it open?
“I think you’re a little thick in the head. I. Don’t. Die. That. Easily. Now call off your attack and bring me Marcus.”

John’s eyes turned an inky, jet black as he stared her down. With a curse, he pulled a phone out and spoke to someone in a language that Gena had never heard before.

She gripped the sphere tighter as a new man entered through the stairwell entrance and handed John a briefcase. John walked closer to Gena and cautiously opened the briefcase.

She craned her neck while she made sure she had a good position on the banister. She saw what looked like some sort of computer inside the briefcase. John gently set the briefcase on the floor and gave it a soft kick with his foot to push it to Gena.

“We have a series of explosives hidden throughout the tower. This is the detonator. Without it, we have no way of setting off all the bombs,” said John.

Gena had no way of knowing whether he was telling the truth. Sure, that could be a detonator, but what assurance did she have that there was no backup?

“And Marcus?” she asked. No matter if there were multiple ways to destroy the building, she still needed Marcus with her.

“He wasn’t being held near here,” said John. “It will take longer than you can stand up there for him to be delivered. Come down and give me the key.”

How stupid did he think she was?
“The only way I’m getting off this ledge is if I’m falling twenty-three stories or if Marcus is lifting me off. Your choice.”

John walked aggressively toward her and she held the sphere as high as she could in the air as her balance started to slip. He stopped as he saw her struggle, but she could tell he was close to snapping.

At Ironheart’s questioning look, Gena shook her head, denying the need for help. Gena could see Ironheart and her men were still in fighting position but were clearly letting Gena lead this confrontation.

“Marcus escaped half an hour ago,” shouted John in desperation as Gena steadied herself. She still held the sphere as high as her reach would allow to keep it far away from him and the other rebels.

There was a good chance Vlad’s men had reached Marcus and freed him by now, but she wasn’t taking anyone’s word without proof. “How can I trust anything you say?” she asked.

John’s eyes shifted from the ceiling back to the sphere. “Put down the key!” he shouted.

“Give me Marcus,” she shot back, confounded that he’d still be giving her orders when she so clearly had the upper hand.

Suddenly, the atmosphere around her changed. Some sort of electricity seemed to fill the entire building. A soft wind brushed the hairs that framed her face as she saw Ironheart and John look to the ceiling in unison. Gena’s gaze followed as she looked up to where the glass ceiling had been just minutes earlier.

There was no ceiling anymore. A swirling black vortex hovered fifty feet above her head, and the swirling seemed to be picking up speed the longer she stared.

“You need to give me the key!” shouted John just feet from her.

She was finally able to put it together. This was what the key opened. Whatever and wherever the vortex led to, Gena could not allow the rebels to get to it.

As the swirling grew faster and faster, it also appeared to inch closer to her. Her body felt lighter as she saw small pieces of paper around her being sucked into the swirling storm. Her heart sunk as she realized that there was no time to wait for Marcus. The key needed to be destroyed before the black hole above her swallowed her completely.

Gena tensed her arm to throw the key down twenty-three stories. Time seemed to slow down and everything appeared to happen at once. “Gena!” she heard a familiar voice shout from below her.

She looked down and the sight of Marcus looking up at her caused her heart to leap in her throat as relief flooded her.
He was okay.
Before she could fully form a smile, a blur rushed toward her.

The multitude of distractions proved too much for her balance as her weight shifted to the back. All thoughts of trying to remain balanced left her as the blur, that she now placed as John, approached her. Instead of fighting it, she let herself fall backward as the key left her hands and fell alongside her.

She saw John in the air above her with the same pissed-off expression he’d worn for the past twenty minutes, but even more intriguing was the quick glimpse inside the vortex as she fell.

She couldn’t be certain, but it looked like a bright purple sky peeked through the hole at the center of the storm.

Before she had time to look closer, what felt like two steel bars slammed into her back and behind her thighs before she was gently lowered to the ground. As soon as her feet were holding her on their own, Marcus’s wrapped his arms around her and crushed her close to his chest. She inhaled the familiar scent of him and held him as tight as she could.

She pulled back to look more closely at his face and was dismayed at the sight. His skin was bruised, and blood covered his clothing from wounds that had probably mostly healed. “You look horrible!”

Marcus laughed softly. “Not the reaction I was expecting after rescuing you from a very big fall.”

A corner of Gena’s mouth lifted. “Well, I didn’t expect my knight in shining armor catching me in midair to hurt so much.”

“That gravity is a bitch,” he muttered.

Gena was unable to hold herself back as she reached up and passionately kissed him, releasing all of the fear and sadness that had consumed her ever since she’d seen him dragged away from her.