Runes (11 page)

“What the hell are you talking about? Tell me, Evangeline.”

The words burst from her, hot and swift. “It began before I came to live with you, Sean, when I tried to commit suicide, and Will found me. Will Cochran, my sister’s boyfriend. H-he shared his blood with me and made me immortal. I can’t die. And then something happened. It’s known as 'The Calling', a way to link me to my mate. All that time after my suicide attempt I thought I was going crazy, thought I was hallucinating, but, it was his voice in my head. I was in love with you, but he was talking to me, persuading me to come to him. And that’s why I left. Oh God, I can see the pain in your face. Please forgive me. I tried to resist, but it’s so much bigger than me, Sean. Can’t you understand?”

“You. . . left me. . . to go to this guy. This. . . Will?”

“Y-yes.”

“And you’re in love with him?”

“Yes,” she said miserably, lowering her head into her ragged hands.

“This immortal thing. It’s crap.” As he looked on, he saw the faint shimmer of her skin increase to a shocking glow. His jaw dropped.

“Not crap, Sean. Absolutely true.”

He stared at her, stunned by this revelation and more drawn to her than ever. His eyes licked over her body. “And you actually tried to kill yourself? Thank God, you didn’t succeed.”

Her head lifted and she searched his eyes. “Will saved me. I’m here because of him,” she said, but Sean stopped her with his kiss. She melted into him, tilting her head into the cradle of his hands and letting him plunder her. He trailed his fingers over her tattoo, reveling in the fiery touch of each rune and star. She tore away, panting violently, but he refused to let her go.

“No, Evangeline. You might love him, but you love me too.”

She broke. Torrents of tears washed her face like rain lashing a window. “I do, Sean, oh, I do. I love you so much. How can I ever stop?”

From inside the Mayer family home, Will followed Evangeline’s stilted, angry actions as she climbed into the rental car, adjusted the mirror, turned the key in the lock, jammed it into gear and screeched away from the curb.

I’m sorry,
he said into her mind, but she ignored him.

Sighing, he climbed the porch stairs to the grey door of her father’s house. The street’s absolute quiet went beyond deep. No sounds of children, traffic or even a puff of breeze. Just Will and the weapon shoved into the waistband of his jeans, lying cold against his spine.

Inside this house lived the man who, following his wife’s death by cancer, had selected one of his two daughters to use for his twisted longings. Inside Evangeline’s memories, Will saw her father’s ugly, beet-red face atop her child’s body.

Will touched the cold metal doorknob, and his fingers felt like ice. It twisted for him, and he opened the door. The dead silence made his fists twitch. Noiselessly, he closed the door and crept into the living space where he knew from his access to Evangeline’s memories that Ed Mayer would have collapsed on the couch after his usual fifth of whiskey, with a chaser of beer. In a defensive tone, Jessa, Evangeline’s sister and Will’s ex, had told him her father drank because he was unemployed, widowed and depressed.

Evangeline had told Will a different story.

He flashed to where she was, eyes locked on the road, driving. Angry. Spitting nails.

In her father’s house, the living room was empty. Will crept toward the kitchen, thinking Ed Mayer might be passed out at the table. He clenched a fist of disgust and frustration. He couldn’t kill a man who was dead drunk. It had to be a fight. Maybe the bastard was only halfway through his nightly fifth. He reached into his waistband and wrapped his fingers around the pistol grip. He slid the pistol free and held it to his chest, the metal hot from being next to his skin. He inched around the doorframe, and saw Ed reaching for the last can of beer in a twelve-pack.

At the sound of Will’s step, Ed turned from the refrigerator. His robe fell open, exposing his nakedness.

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled, taking two menacing steps toward Will.

Whose gun brought him up short.

“Evangeline’s mate. I’m here to avenge her.” Ice filled his veins, and he couldn’t wait to off the man, but to his astonishment, his face grew numb with cold and fear. His heart grew so quiet in his chest, he blinked, wondering if he was still standing.

But not because of this sick fucker.

Something was wrong. Evangeline was sobbing, hurt. There was a knock at the window, then fear rising. A needle jabbing her.

“No,” Will screamed, reeling and bolting for the door. Frantic, he 'CALLED' to her and met her darkened mind. Blackness flooded him.

“
Evangeline,”
he roared aloud, into her mind. He darted onto the front porch and leapt down the stairs, landing heavily on the uneven sidewalk. Still running, he stowed the gun in his jacket pocket and sprinted toward the corner to hail a cab.

What the hell had happened? Who’d knocked at her window? Why had she rolled it down, allowing him access to her? Terror struck him anew, fed by her dark, unresponsive mind.

Evangeline, Evangeline,
he chanted.
Where are you?

The street lights fizzed overhead, and the headlights of an oncoming yellow taxi flashed over him. His knees were weak and his chest burned. He’d never forgive himself this selfish stupidity, sending her away so he could seek revenge when he should have been protecting her.

Deep in his heart, he knew she was gone. Vomit rushed up his throat and he folded in half, trying to retch away his hot remorse. Without his immortal mate, without her love, he was a piece of trash, crumpled on the roadside, ragged, wet and filthy.

Straightening, he swiped his lips. The deep inner quiver from her loss began, but he would use it, transform the dark energy into resolve. He was going to get her back.

* * * *

Will yelled at the cab driver, who was driving at top speed, barreling around corners and scattering pedestrians, following Will’s instructions to get him to the hotel rendezvous with all haste.

Evangeline, my love. I’m so sorry. Please answer.

He heard nothing but the whine of the cab driver’s radio, tuned to obnoxious rap music. Will’s chest filled with hot dread. He reached deep inside himself and detected the shaking sensation that came with being separated from his immortal mate. It began as a flutter and grew to a roar, jarring as a jackhammer.

Oh lovely girl, where are you? I’m an idiot. An ass. Please return to me.

His stomach vibrated and turned over. Hot bile rushed up his throat, and he opened the cab door just in time. He stuck his head out and puked into the traffic.

“Hey,” the cabby yelled, braking to a sudden stop. “Get the hell out of my cab if you’re sick!”

Insane with the uncontrollable quiver, he backhanded his mouth and tossed two bills over the seat. He stepped into the street, stumbled for footing and then fell into the path Evangeline had traveled. Her heat seared him. Though he could not see through her mind, he felt the very particles of air she’d touched.

Blindly seeking, he reached out his hands and ran along the crowded Chicago streets and toward the outskirts of town where he hailed another cab to continue on her trail. His insides maintained a constant tremor, and for a fleeting moment, he was thankful that she was unconscious, unable to experience the pain he felt for her.

He called out directions to the driver, and with a sickening dread came to realize they were headed directly for the international airport.

* * * *

A stupor came over Will, and he leaned his forehead against the chilly airplane window. For hours he’d 'CALLED' to Evangeline. He'd hoped to break through the haze he detected in her drugged mind. Forced onto a flight bound for Argentina, he refused to call his immortal friends and drag them into this chase, a chase that could end badly if the man who’d kidnapped her was immortal. In giving his blood and binding their souls, Will had promised to protect Evangeline. And he had failed. This battle was his to right the wrongs he’d done to her.

Baby, I’ll get you back. I promise. Just hold on until I find you. Hear my voice, break through the fog. I love you.

He thought of their flight to Chicago. Hours before, he’d bent her over the airplane’s bathroom sink and watched their other partner, the young soldier who’d finger-fucked her to absolute completion, slide his cock into her. Their reflection in the mirror had heated him. Evangeline’s face had been turned hard to the right, and the sex flush had climbed her jiggling breasts and throat to enflame her face. And the ecstasy on the soldier’s rugged face drove Will wild.

Never once had he suspected he might feel this way. No woman had ever inspired this need in him to see her fulfilled, no matter what it took. And never, in all the decades he’d roamed the earth as an immortal, had he given into his craving for voyeurism.

His cock stirred at his thoughts. Suddenly a bright star of light burst in his mind, and with a sharp intake of breath, he tasted her.

Evangeline.

Confusion was uppermost in her brain, and then the acknowledgement of a bone-shaking cold. Where the hell was she?

I’m here, baby. I’m following you. I’ll reach you soon. Where are you?

She struggled to sit up, but something held her thigh, clenching tighter when she moved. Her head ached with a dull thud and her senses were sluggish. Will detected a burning feeling around her eye and realized with a jolt that she’d been struck. The force of his anger was a hurricane gale.

Oh my God, Evangeline, tell me what happened.

Twisting onto her back, she tried again to press into a sitting position, but found her arms constricted. When she saw her bonds, he saw through her eyes that she’d been chained. The wind blew her hair straight back, and she shook with fear and cold.

W-will.

Here. Right here. Behind you. Where are you?
he asked again, shifting to the edge of his seat as if he could jump up and find her. The shuddering he experienced grew unbearable, and now she knew nothing but the shaking, too. Her teeth rattled in her head as she looked at her surroundings. A flash of green, the blur of sky. And a whiff of rain.

Dunno,
she answered groggily. She felt around herself, her fingers grazing cold metal. Everything came into sharp focus for Will, and a rivulet of horror slithered down his spine.

She was chained to the bed of a pickup truck.

She went absolutely still. Her heart throbbed, and her limbs trembled with her need for him. Then suddenly, she snapped.

“Let me out of here, you bastard, son of a bitch. You think you can hurt me, but you’re wrong,” she bellowed. Her heels thudded against the bed of the truck, and she clawed at the chains on her arms, shredding her nails to bloody stumps.

Evangeline, stop.

No, never. He can’t do this to me.

Do you know him?
Will asked, his head spinning with her pain, their combined shaking, and her bravery.

No,
she said,
but I’m about to meet him.

Will watched, helpless, as she drove her fist through the rear window glass, shattering it. Through her bleary eyes, he saw the clear outline of a man’s well-shaped head. Close-cropped brown hair, and the stems of a pair of glasses curled behind his ears. Glass sprayed over the shoulders of his thin cotton shirt, and he twisted his head to fix her in his glare.

“Watch yourself,” her abductor said. “I’m not averse to killing you, you know.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she growled, reaching through the window and clamping her hands around his throat. Through their link, Will felt the sinews of the man’s neck pop and shift beneath her fingers. The pickup truck veered to the side of the road in a cloud of choking dust. The man tore from her grasp and climbed out with quiet menace.

Evangeline dropped back, quivering, the chain rattling against the metal bed.

The man came into full view, blue eyes blazing over the side of the truck. Will’s fists clenched.

“Shaking, I see,” he said. “Welcome to my world.”

“Wh-who are you?” she asked, bravely raising her chin against the quaver in her voice.

“Marcus Wood. How convenient I happened across you earlier with a needle in my possession.” He lifted a gleaming syringe. Rays of light sparked off it, sending them dancing in Evangeline’s frightened eyes.

“I don’t want it.”

At this he laughed. “I don’t care what you want, girl. You’re immortal. It won’t kill you. But I’m immortal, and
I
can kill you, if I choose. So don’t provoke me.” He bit off his words.

Don’t talk back to him, Evangeline. Just back off.

To Will’s dismay, she ignored him.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

The man circled the truck, drawing nearer to where she sat with her spine digging into the metal side. She watched him come, fists balled to attack. Sweat ran down her temples and into the corner of her eye. She blinked it away.

“Well, that’s a long story,” he said, a hint of a southern drawl in his tone. “You see, my mate died. I killed her.” Evangeline’s eyes flared, and he continued. “Oh, I didn’t mean to, you see. Sometimes it happens amongst those with the ‘Calling’. Our blood isn’t compatible. I’d seen it once before, but never dreamed I’d experience it.” He shook his head, and the needle wavered in his hand. Suddenly he abandoned his story and came toward her. The metal chain clanked as she tried to scoot away.