Soul Taker (39 page)

Harrison nodded in her direction and she gave
the okay that she was ready. Harrison charged at the door, kicking
his feet forward to take the full impact. The door swung open, the
hinges grinding as it folded back. The unearthly quiet didn't sit
well even with the knowledge that a vampire couldn't venture out in
broad daylight without meeting a fiery death.

Harrison cautiously moved forward, his weapon
ready. Isabella followed a few paces behind him, gripping her
gun.

Before they were halfway inside, they were
attacked.

"It's a fledgling," Harrison warned as he
swung his sword, taking the fledgling down.

She grimaced and forced herself not to be
ill. "What the heck is a fledgling?"

"The fledglings aren't full vampires yet, and
they are enthralled by the vampire who made them. You cannot reason
with them."

"A half-vampire, just when I thought it
couldn't get any worse," she grumbled. A movement to the left of
Harrison caught her attention. "Look out!" Isabella warned as she
pointed her weapon at another fledgling hurtling toward
Harrison.

The fledgling screamed as the iron bullet hit
him in the leg. Harrison swung his sword, gladly relieving the
fledgling of his head.

Another came from above and would have taken
her down, if its shadow hadn't crossed her face. She rolled away
and shot off a round. It went wide, but the next bullet hit her
mark, knocking it back.

Harrison staked another, lodging the pointed
wood into his heart.

Another two fledglings dropped from the
rafter above. The taller and wider one came after her, grunting and
snarling. His eyes shone red. Isabella rounded off shots as she
backed up, but the fiend kept coming. He lunged at her, tackling
her to the ground. Her head hit the cement and for a second her
vision blurred, giving the fledgling the opening to go for her
neck. She was dizzy, but she could still function. Her hand gripped
the dagger strapped to the tool belt. She stabbed it into the
fledgling's neck. The fledgling shrieked and clawed at the weapon.
Before it could recover, Isabella slammed her fists into his chest,
throwing the fiend off balance. She scrambled away from him and to
her feet. She didn't waste any time emptying her gun and reloading.
Harrison had finished off the other fiend and rushed over to finish
off hers in a final blow to the neck.

They were splattered with blood, but by some
miracle, neither one of them had been seriously hurt.

"This was too easy," Harrison murmured.

She glanced at him with disbelief. She'd hate
to see difficult.

Her gaze took in the warehouse and its lack
of contents, except for the crates stacked against the far wall.
She knew without opening them that they housed the souls of
Alexander's victims.

Harrison gestured toward the back of the room
where a door stood bolted with a thick steel lock. "If Garran is
still here…" He didn't have to say more. It was the only place
Alexander could have contained him.

Harrison opened the duffle bag and removed
the bolt cutters. He glanced at her. He positioned the cutters and
used his brute strength to clip the lock. He then removed the metal
bar. He looked at her, meeting her gaze. "Stay alert." He pulled
the door open.

Isabella had her gun reloaded and ready.

"Finally, you came for me." Garran sat on the
floor, leaning against the wall.

Isabella frowned. Harrison had explained to
her what condition they might find Garran. They expected him to be
starved and crazed, but he didn't rush them.

Garran stood and his lips curved. He appeared
fine, better than fine. Maybe Alexander hadn't tortured and starved
him. She lowered her arm and took a step forward, but as she
neared, she caught sight of the colors. "His aura is off."

Harrison's nostrils flared. "Blood," he said.
"Lots of it." Before Isabella could ask him what he meant,
Harrison's hand snaked out, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind
him.

Garran chuckled. "Wow, ye two are like the
dynamic duo. Isabella with her keen eyes and ye, Harrison with that
nose of yers." Garran tapped the side of his nose for emphasis.

Isabella peeked around Harrison. Her gaze
landed on the bundle of red silk and dark hair. It was Sanya and
she lay on the ground unmoving. A young woman sat beside the
vampire with her legs crossed. Her eyes were closed and her posture
spoke of someone who was meditating.

Garran followed her line of vision. "Sanya
was useful for the voodoo queen's daughter." His voice had a nasty
edge to it.

A reddish line with symbols encircled
Frimrose. Sanya's blood? She looked at Garran and he filled in the
blanks.

"Frimrose is safe for now. As long as she
stays within the circle, I cannot touch her. She cast a spell to
ward off evil intent, but we all know she cannot stay in the circle
forever."

His words sent a chill down Isabella's spine.
"We can help you," Isabella made an attempt to reach Garran, the
Garran she knew and cared about. "We have blood in the car." It was
refrigerated to keep it fresh. Warm blood outside the body was
useless as spoiled milk.

Garran's smile didn't reach his eyes that
glimmered between red and turbulent gray. They were losing him.
"There's fresh blood right here." His fangs lengthened, long and
threatening before he flitted, but Harrison was ready and moved
just as fast, knocking Garran down. The two rolled on the ground as
each tried to get the upper hand.

"Garran, stop it," she cried and fired a shot
in the air.

Chapter Sixty

The woman's voice triggered a memory.
Protect her.
A part of Garran's subconscious reached for
her, but he shook his head, the thought of blood proved all he
could focus on…hot, pumping into his mouth…delicious blood.

His gaze narrowed on the man he held in his
grip. Harrison… werewolf… His blood wouldn't sustain him. He needed
something more potent, something human. His nostrils flared,
picking up a familiar scent. "Isabella."

"No, no, no." Harrison slammed his fist into
Garran's face. "Izzie, get the hell out of here. Now!" Harrison
growled as his teeth lengthened and claws sprouted from his
hands.

Garran hissed, swiping at Harrison with such
force, the werewolf flew backward, slamming against the wall, his
head hitting with a loud crack. His body dropped to the floor and
didn't move.
Good
. His gaze riveted back to Isabella.

Her lovely hazel eyes rimmed with gold
widened with fear. Garran pulled his fangs in, hoping to ease her
apprehension so he could grab her before she sprinted into the
light.

Isabella knew Garran stalked her. His moves
were of a lethal predator, his muscles bunching beneath his shirt.
She was no match for his speed. She took a careful step back.

His eyes glowed red as he sauntered toward
her with intent. He crooked his index finger at her with a
come
hither
gesture. "Come here, my sweet bonny lassie, and I
promise I shall make it quick."

"Garran, this isn't you."

His laugh rumbled deep and menacing.
"Isabella, this is the true me. It's what I've been tryin' to tell
ye, but ye didn't want to listen. Ye never listen." He moved
forward again. She was prey and nothing more to him now.

She raised her gun. "Stop or I'll shoot."

"Bullets won't kill me, remember?" As he
lunged toward her, she pulled the trigger. She didn't wait to see
how much damage she'd done, but whirled around, sprinting for the
door. She almost made it, but seconds before the sun would shine
warm on her face, Garran tackled her to the ground. For a moment,
the air was knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't
even plead for her life.

His knee jabbed into the small of her back
and his hand pinned her head against the cold concrete. With the
other hand, he moved her hair to the side, exposing the tender
flesh at her neck. She either hadn't wounded him or the iron
bullets didn't faze him in the least.

"You don't have to do this," she rasped out,
but he only laughed.

"Oh, but I do." He had leaned down, his mouth
inches from her ear. "By the way, ye smell delicious." He licked
her earlobe, his tongue sliding over it with tender care before he
nipped and drew blood. His tongue lapped over the wound. "Mmm-hmm.
Ye taste as good as ye smell, too."

Isabella closed her eyes. Her body shook with
fear, but all she could think about was what this would do to
Garran. He hung onto his humanity, wore it like a badge of honor.
If he killed her, he would never forgive himself.

She pushed any self-pity aside. She had to
think of a way out of this—for both their sakes. "Garran, let…me
touch you."

For a moment, he didn't move, but then he
swung her around onto her back, keeping her pinned down.

Her gaze wavered over his features. He looked
like the ferocious vampire of legends: fierce, threatening, and
with red glowing eyes.

"Are ye offerin' to please me?" He leaned
down with savage intent. She could barely breathe as he took her
mouth, with teeth and tongue as he devoured her with a kiss. "I can
taste yer fear." He nipped her lip, sampling her blood again. "Ah,
aye. Yer blood tastes better than the finest wine."

"Garran, please don't do this. We brought
blood for you."

"Why would I need the packets of pig's blood
when I have ye, a delicacy to be sure." His hand gripped her wrist.
She struggled, but he proved too strong. His fingers bit into her.
He licked the soft skin on her wrist, the very place where he had
tasted her blood the first time. He plunged his fangs into her
flesh, causing her to gasp. Pain and pleasure intertwined as one.
He sucked slowly as if he planned to savor every drop.

She fought, but her struggles only proved to
excite him even more. "You're taking too much."

"Yer blood is makin' me strong." He broke
away to kiss her. She could taste the blood on his lips—her blood.
Her stomach recoiled. She fought back, biting his lip. He roared in
pain, but then it seemed he decided he liked it and took hold of
her mouth again, caressing slowly, seducing until she didn't
struggle. Then he took her wrist, siphoning more blood.

She turned away, not wanting to look at
Garran, not wanting her last memory to be of him relishing the
kill. She squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them again
and focused, her gaze latched onto her weapon resting not far from
her. In one last attempt, with her free hand, she reached for her
gun. Her fingers scraped the cool metal, and she fumbled to bring
it closer. Finally gripping it, she jabbed it into his side and
pulled the trigger.

Garran flew from her, howling in pain. She
scrambled back, frantically kicking with her feet and shot him
again, this time in the knee.

She tried to stand, but fell back down. Blood
flowed from her wrist and pooled at her feet. Her vision blurred.
Garran's growls alerted her. She tried to shoot him again, but he
pounced.

He kicked the gun away from her hand, sending
it spinning away across the cement. He grabbed her by her hair and
yanked her head to the side, baring her neck.

This was it. This was how her life would end,
but all she could think of were three simple words. "I forgive
you."

His body stilled as if time suddenly
halted.

Perhaps the blood he had taken from her was
starting to do its magic, bringing him down from the murderous
rampage. Whether it was her words or the blood, his hands dropped
to his side and he backed away. His gaze swept over her in horror.
"Get out of here, Isabella, before it's too late." For a moment, he
looked at her as the man she truly knew. "Go," he pleaded. "I don't
know how much longer I can hold off." He doubled over as if in
pain, either from the iron bullets or the lack of blood. Maybe it
was both.

A clapping sound from above made Isabella
glance in the direction with a curse. Alexander balanced on the
rafter as if he were a tight rope performer. Had he been up there
the whole time, hiding in the shadows as he watched what
unfolded?

Alexander leapt down, landing in a crouched
position before standing straight with one fluid move. His light
hair stayed in place haloing his face. How could someone so
beautiful be so evil? Maybe it was true the eyes were the windows
to the soul. Alexander's light baby blues were cold, a
contradiction to his angelic smile. "Ye're a might stronger than I
thought ye'd be, sweet Isabella."

As much as she liked hearing Garran say her
name, she disliked how it flowed off Alexander's tongue. Hearing
her name from his lips made it sound like something foul and
tainted. "Sorry, to disappoint you," she said sarcastically. At
this moment, Alexander proved the more lethal of the two vampires.
She glanced at Garran who grimaced and clutched his stomach as he
tried to gain control over the hunger and stifle the pain the iron
bullets were causing him. She knew Garran's appetite might win out
in the end. With Harrison out of commission, she was on her
own.

Alexander wagged his finger at her. "I knew I
liked ye. Ye have
sass
." He took a step toward her and she
backed away. The sun shone in the entrance of the warehouse, but
any sudden move to run toward her sanctuary would set both vampires
into predator mode.

"Let her go," Garran rasped out. "This is
between ye and me, Alexander. It always has been. Let's finish it
in the old way."

Alexander gave him an incredulous look of
disbelief. "What? Like take up swords? No' likely, Garran. This is
the twenty-first century no' eighteenth century Scotland. Ye aren't
the laird who needs to take care of the petty disagreements.
"Besides," he lifted his shoulder in a shrug, "yer little play
thing will no' last much longer. Ye didn't close her wound. She
bleeds out as we speak."