Katie's Hellion (Rhyn Trilogy, Book One) (10 page)

The building shuddered, one explosion hitting
close enough to her room that her windows shattered. Fear lit her
insides, and she scrambled to her feet, darting to the door. It was
still locked.

"Let me out!" she shouted, beating on it.

It wasn’t a cheap plywood door with a simple
push lock but a thick, wooden door as ancient as the hotel with
deadbolts, as if Andre regularly locked prisoners in his guest
room.

The door didn’t even flinch as she beat her
fists against it as hard as she could. She stepped away, sweating
from whiskey and fear. Another boom, and the edges of the door lit
up and spit fire as the rocket exploded in Andre’s apartment. The
impact knocked her back. The door groaned but didn’t give, though
the wall on one side crumbled enough to leave a large opening.

Andre’s apartment was black and fiery. The
rocket had exploded as it landed on the floor, leaving a gaping
hole. She squeezed through the hole in the wall to find there
wasn’t enough of the floor left to walk on let alone make it to the
door across the apartment.

She wriggled back into her room, mind working
quickly. Another boom, another flash of light outside the window,
another shudder as the building struggled to stand upright. Screams
and blaring horns came from the streets. She tiptoed through the
glass and leaned out the window, eyeing the wide ledge. There were
balconies along the far side of the building that hadn’t been
destroyed. Any thought she had at Andre’s apartment not being the
target fled as she saw the damage done to her side of the
building.

The booms stopped. She saw dark figures jump
from the top of the building across from her to the ground,
unaffected by what seemed like a thirty-story drop. They wove their
way through the panicked crowds toward Andre’s building.

Coming for
her.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Half drunk, shoeless, scared shitless, she
had no option for escape except to crawl from her balcony onto the
ledge. She wiped the glass shards from the ledge and carefully
stepped out, standing against the outside wall. The ledge was just
wide enough for her foot to fit fully. The wind was harsher, colder
than it was just a few minutes ago. She pressed the front of her
body against the building, dug her fingertips into indents in the
stone, and slid her foot along the roughened ledge to the right,
stepping slowly and forcing her head up.

"I don’t even speak French," she muttered.
"No passport, no identification, no shoes."

She moved along, foot-by-foot, focusing on
the next stone and on her anger to keep from sobbing and falling to
her doom. The sounds of chaos below grew as emergency vehicles
responded.

Boom. She tensed and held her breath. The
rocket slammed into an ambulance parked in front of Andre’s, the
brilliant explosion throwing heat and light that reached her on
what she estimated was the twentieth floor. She started moving
again, panic rising as she realized not all the attackers in the
building across the street had jumped to the street. She was
vulnerable, exposed. If they wanted her dead, she’d given them the
best target imaginable.

A shuffling drew her attention, the sound at
odds with the chaos below. She looked back toward Andre’s
apartment, surprised to see two dark forms on the ledge following
her.

She reached a balcony and lowered herself
carefully onto it. The French doors were locked, and she beat on
them, looking around wildly for deck furniture to break the glass.
The patio was empty.

Boom. She dropped instinctively to the
ground. The rocket smashed into the floor below, shattering glass
and pulverizing part of the balcony. The impact was close enough to
deafen her to everything but her own breathing. She stared at the
broken glass before her and then at the men nearing on the ledge.
Across the street, she imagined the man with the rockets taking
careful aim at her. Her only chance at safety was across a swath of
broken glass.

For the second time that night, she began to
think she hadn’t drunk enough whiskey. She rose unsteadily and
brushed some of the glass away with her bare foot, near tears.

Boom.

She ran, crying out as glass shredded her
feet. She forced herself to continue to the apartment’s entrance
and flung open the door, revealing a hall with auxiliary lighting
reflecting off a white marble floor. She stepped inside, sagged
against the wall, and lifted one bloodied foot. She pried glass
free with shaking hands between sobs, then set her foot down and
did the same for the other. Familiar dizziness assailed her. She
shoved herself away from the wall and staggered down the hall. A
hole in the floor was between her and the elevators.

Boom. The lights went out. She clung to the
wall, at a loss as to what to do. Right about now, she’d be happy
to see Kris and would even risk going to the shadow world!

She felt two tiny bites on her arm, and
suddenly electricity flew through her. Her mouth opened in a frozen
scream as the burning pain paralyzed her. The current stopped, and
she convulsed on the cold marble floor.

Red flashlights blurred before her eyes.
Gloved hands snatched her. A hood went over her head, and she was
flung across someone’s shoulder hard enough to make her ribs flare
with pain.

Dazed and pained, she couldn’t help but wish
she’d just jumped off the ledge instead.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sasha himself, followed by two members of his
guard of immortal badass creatures, delivered the new, bloodied
tenant to the cell across the hall. They were trailed by a man Rhyn
recognized well.

Jade.
One of Kris's warriors. With
some satisfaction, Rhyn wondered if another of Kris's men had
gotten as fed up with Kris as he had.

Sasha left without even a smartass remark,
and Rhyn rose, gazing with interest across the hall. The scent of
blood made his blood sizzle The bloody mess in the next cell was a
human. There was something very different about the human's blood,
like comparing warm, homemade bread with stale crumbs out of the
garbage.

He
drooled
at the smell, his gums and
body aching for a taste. In all his years as an immortal, he's
never
drooled
over anything!

Immortal mate.
There was no mistaking
the sense, just as there was no mistaking this human was so much
more than a mate for the average immortal.

Ancient mate.

Surprised, he cursed Death for dumping the
vulnerable human he was meant to protect into Hell before freeing
him!

The cell block fell silent, and he sensed the
others also smelled the human blood. The cowering healer left his
corner of the cell for the first time in a while and approached the
human on the bed. Its tongue flickered out as it rolled the human.
Gently, the healer began its trade.

Rhyn watched, even more fascinated when the
healer hesitated suddenly and withdrew.

"What is it, Rhyn? And why does it smell like
the best hamburger earth can make?" Jared broke the predatory
silence.

"Looks human," Rhyn replied. "Smells
human."

"My left arm for a bite…" Jared groaned.
"What's that freak doing?"

The healer's nervous gaze flickered to Rhyn.
It drew the human off the bed and dragged the body into the corner,
as if to protect them both from the immortal prisoner.

"Nothing right now," Rhyn replied. "Worst
healer I've ever seen. Should be done by now."

"N…no!" the healer replied, agitation
crossing its features. "Not a normal h…human."

"Looks and smells normal."

"N…no!"

It said nothing more but ducked its head and
began to clean the human with its long tongue, shuddering at each
lick. Rhyn felt suddenly jealous, wishing he could taste what
smelled so wonderful.

He paced again, wondering why Sasha would put
a
human
in his zoo, unless this was the worst human in the
world.

The more he watched, the less likely this
seemed. The human was a female, and a young one. Her dark, curly
hair was matted with blood, her features pale. The healer stopped
to rest and pushed immortal sustenance --small square water and
food cubes --into her mouth.

Her draw was insane. Her blood smelled sweet,
and the oddly charged aura around her made his brow furrow. In all
his years, he'd never seen anything like her.

Ancient's mate.
His
mate.

He froze. He'd heard how other immortals
stumbled upon the humans meant to mate with them. There were few
humans who could stick it out with an immortal; something in their
blood made them different from all the others. He'd felt a familiar
sense around…

Lilith.
The woman whose death by his
hand had landed him here in Hell.

Only the draw around this woman meant for him
was much stronger. Much more dangerous.

He growled deep and low, glaring at the woman
across the hall. The healer pulled her into its arms, his gaze
flickering around again.

He'd thought himself in love with Lilith
once, and so had Kris and half their brothers.

Fools, all of them! She'd been a siren, a
human whose black heart lured any immortal she encountered into the
hands of the Dark One!

The woman across the hall held the same
beguiling aura.

Rhyn retreated to the wall and sat with his
back against it, staring at the healer that held the woman
protectively in his arms.

Every human had its own special power,
similar to immortals. He wondered what hers was, and if it was the
same gift of treachery that had doomed Lilith.

She awoke on the lower bunk bed in a prison
cell with no windows and a tiny metal toilet and sink. Her blurred
vision fell to the corner, where a creature with glowing emerald
eyes crouched. She jerked back, pain shooting through her.

"You brought much blood," the creature said,
its voice trembling a little with excitement.

She closed her eyes and pushed herself up,
her breath catching at the sharp pain in her ribs. Her feet felt
swollen and fiery.

"What are
you
?" the creature
asked.

Its voice was hoarse, and it spoke with a
small lisp.

She braced herself and opened her eyes. The
lighting was harsh. Aside from its large, glowing green eyes, the
creature appeared near-human with a lean body covered in some sort
of leather jumper. She couldn’t distinguish whether it was male or
female. The voice sounded like the sultry growl of a woman, but it
had short hair and no breasts. And four fingers on each hand. Its
skin was porcelain pale, as if it never saw sunlight.

"I’m a human," she said.

"A
mortal
human?" it replied
skeptically.

"Is there any other kind?"

The creature looked confused but shifted from
its guarded crouch to a kneeling position.

"Does the mortal human have a name?"

"Katie."

"Katie," it repeated pensively.
"Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatie."

Her feet were swollen and shredded, as she
expected. The creature repeated her name several more times while
she examined her body. She was bruised all over and wondered if her
ribs were broken as well. She’d be lucky to walk again soon, and
without medical supplies…with her luck lately, she wouldn’t die
from infection, just suffer for the rest of her life.

"Kaaaaaaaaaaaatie."

"Would you stop that?"

"Katie."

"Do you have a name?"

"Lankha."

"Where are we, Lankha?"

"In Hell. Heeeeeeeeeeell."

She looked out of the front of the cell into
a small corridor with equally harsh lighting. Across from them was
another cell, this one darkened. Its occupant stared back at her
with glowing silver eyes.

"He drinks blood. He smells yours," Lankha
volunteered.

"What is he?"

"Don’t know. From the mortal human realm like
you."

"What…realm is this?"

"Heeeeeeeeeell. It’s in the underworld, the
only place where immortals can’t come."

If no immortals could save her, she wondered
who could. Who’d have ever thought she’d
want
to be found by
the jackass, Kris?

"I need whiskey," she said, and rubbed her
head.

"Whiiiiiiiiskeeeeeeey."

Lankha’s voice was almost sing-song. It stood
and retrieved small blue pellets from its bed, offering them to
her.

"What is it?" she asked, accepting them.

"Water for mortal human. Warden says one
every moon cycle."

She eyed them doubtfully but popped one into
her mouth. It tasted like a plain jelly bean, until she swallowed,
when it felt like a stream of water spilled from the back of her
mouth to her gullet. Within seconds, she felt refreshed.

Lankha retrieved a small satchel from its bed
and sat cross-legged on the floor beside her feet, withdrawing
small vials and balled gauze.

"What’re you doing?" she asked, watching.

"I’m a healer. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeealer. Warden
put you here so I could help you. I cleaned your blood. I started
but grew tired. Now, I finish."

Lankha licked its lips in satisfaction. She
feared asking more and braced herself when it took one foot in its
hand. Lankha’s hands were covered in what felt like soft, feathery,
cool micro-suede. Its touched eased the heat and pain. She watched,
astonished, as it carefully cleaned her feet without hurting them
and then slathered on oil from one vial and wrapped them in
gauze.

When it’d finished, she felt little pain, and
the heat was completely gone.

"That’s amazing, Lankha," she voiced.

"Amaaaaaaazing," it agreed. "I’m the oldest
male healer in my guild. There's one female older. Your body is
stubborn, but you will heal."