The Bastard (10 page)

“We have to hide her.”

Rex tongued his lip in thought. “Take her to your boat.”

“And if the Third finds us, how do we explain me Leaping her ass out of there? Pretend I’m Superman? Prince fucking Charming can’t fly.”

Irritation curled Rex’s lip. “Point taken. But you better figure something out. Samael’s Leeches are knocking out her safe places and narrowing in on her.” The Roman leveled a measuring stare at him. “You could always just dust her.”

“I’m not taking advice from a man who made his fucking horse a senator.”

Rex shoved him. “The fucking horse was smarter than you’ll ever be. Besides, it was a joke. This shit isn’t funny.”

No, it wasn’t funny. It was deadly.

Chapter Six

Her knuckles turned white and her fingertips tingled. Galina forced her hands to loosen their grip on the golf cart’s steering wheel. Control pushed the terror from her body. He could sense fear.

The glare of sunlight turned the manicured emerald green to shamrock and she lowered her sunglasses to cover her eyes. Not for a minute did she think they’d hide her thoughts from her Master, but they were a false shield she clung to out of habit. With a strengthening breath, she stepped from the cart, set her mouth into a sultry smile and approached the tee.

Three men joked, jibes of handicaps bantering back and forth. One pulled a titanium driver from the bag, setting off whistles of appreciation. Expensive clothes and an air of wealth surrounded them, but they were still little boys playing with toys. They could have been ten-year-olds oohing and ahhing over a new baseball card rather than the heads of three major banks.

Of course, only two were human.

The gray-haired one smirked. “A club like that makes me think you’re compensating for a lack of something, Sam.”

The tall blond threw his head back and laughed. Sunshine kissed along his pale peach shirt, giving a healthy glow to his skin. His gaze landed on her. Although the smile never left his face, her throat tightened.

“Damn. Can’t escape the office for a minute. Give me a second, will you guys?”

A rotund banker leered at her. “New assistant? I’m jealous.”

Sam chuckled. “This one doesn’t take dictation, just dick. And she’s in acquisitions. Excuse me.”

Her palms grew damp, but she refused to wipe them on her skirt, to show that weakness. He was gorgeous, all golden splendor and quiet sophistication. The slim watch on his wrist was Rolex, his shoes were calfskin and his heart black as hate.

He met her a few steps out of the bankers’ earshot. “This better be good, Galina. I paid through the nose for this tee time and you’re not going to fuck it up for me.”

A ball of ice formed in her belly. Irritating Samael was never smart but lying to him was far worse. “The Cooper Scion’s with the Forsaken.”

His nostrils flared. “That is unfortunate…for you.”

“I found two others, brothers in Pakistan. There are more Scion —”

“Get them all but I want her.”

“Why is she special?” She realized her blunder before his jaw flinched. No one questioned Samael, ever. The automatic plea fell from her lips. “Forgive me, Master, I didn’t mean —”

“I want the Cooper bitch and I want her now. Use her weakling sister as bait.”

Galina dropped her eyes. “She’s defective. It drains me to go near her. Shall I hire humans to take her?”

“No, no mortals in this. She may one day spawn and her offspring could be clean.” A muscle in his cheek jumped, as if he bit back curses she was sure would blister the very air. “Watch her. Lacy won’t stay away from her for long, she’s too over-protective. When she shows up, kill her and bring me her dust.”

“I’ll get her. I swear, Master.”

An indulgent smile creased his face. Samael stepped close and drew the back of his hand along the curve of her jaw. The touch was gentle, loving and eerily menacing. “You’ve done well so far, Galina. If I had favorites, you would be one.”

“I wish only to please you.” She turned her face, pressing her cheek into his hand.

He brushed her lips with a soft kiss. His kiss grew hungry, his tongue parting her lips and sinking deep into her mouth. Pleasure radiated through her, spreading an unnatural heat that kindled low in her belly. The sensation made her bold and she slipped her hands up to circle his neck. The edges of his golden hair tickled her fingertips like silk feathers.

He allowed the familiarity and pride rushed her. She pleased him in bed and he called upon her often. Her body flushed with unholy desire. Only he had ever made her feel this way. But that pleasure could turn to pain in a heartbeat. Her once-human mind had never conceived of the tortures he could inflict.

The smooth skin of his forehead pressed to hers. For a moment, she got lost in the brilliant green of his eyes, so clear and bright they matched the pristine fairway behind him. But they changed, sliding into cruel kaleidoscope sparkles. His whisper slithered into her ear like a serpent.

“Don’t fail me, Minion. As much as I love fucking that sweet ass, I’ll enjoy listening to you scream for the next thousand years just as much. Is that clear?”

It took every ounce of strength to nod. “Yes, Master.”

“Now go on. You’re holding up tee time.” His palm cracked across her ass.

Halfway to the cart, he called her name. She turned and found him stroking the titanium club shaft, long fingers playing over the metal with sensual strokes. “Tonight, eight o’clock. My place. Be naked.”

The men behind him laughed and her Awoken blood turned cold. The fire in his eyes looked sexual but she knew better, could read the deadly promise buried beneath the lust. She’d failed him and now she had hell to pay for it.

Consciousness was not a constant. Lacy faded in and out. She’d been standing on the counter, trying to view the fire over the crowd. A bee had buzzed by and she’d swatted it away. Then a sting had exploded in her butt cheek. Everything got fuzzy.

She’d barely been aware of Erik sliding her into the truck and hooking her seatbelt before blackness descended. Her head thumped and thoughts were too complicated to grasp so she let them fade away. Strange, frightening dreams invaded her peace. Visions of a slithery tongue licking along her temple. The woman at the festival, her dark eyes glowing with evil. Erik with an axe, swinging the blade into her attacker’s back.

Her chin banged into her chest, her head wobbling like a blooming sunflower in full summer. A jarring bump jerked her eyes wide. The small town was a distant memory. It was dark outside, the afternoon completely gone. They must have been driving for hours. They were in a meadow, the bumpy dirt road blocked by a cattle gate that swung open with a press of a button on the dash. The truck’s shocks spared her through more ruts and holes. She wanted to ask where they were but her tongue didn’t work. Darkness came again.

When the motor stopped, she pried her eyelids open. The walls of concrete and rows of fluorescent lighting of an underground garage made her blink. Erik squeezed the steering wheel, barely breathing.

Her mouth felt thick and cottony. “What happened?”

“I guess you passed out. You tried to do too much with your concussion.”

A scowl knotted her forehead to a painful level. It wasn’t like she went dancing. She’d sat on her ass and counted change, occasionally filling a soda cup. Leaning forward, she peered through the windshield. “Where are we?”

“Gēhannā,” he murmured so softly she barely heard.

“Where?”

“H2Q, Black Handler headquarters.” He jerked the keys from the ignition. “Come on, let’s get you into bed before you collapse.”

He climbed out and walked around to her side, opening the door with a snap. She unbuckled, slid from the seat and nearly kissed the pavement. She locked her knees, needing a second to make sure her legs would hold her. “I need to go home.”

Iron flashed in his eyes. “You don’t have a home, Lacy. Sam’s people burned it.”

“What?” Her knees buckled. Her house? Terror churned in her belly. “Oh my God, Annie?”

“She’s okay. The fire department got her out. But your house is gone, I’m sorry.”

Black swirled in her vision. Erik sat her back on the seat, shoving her head between her knees. “Breathe. Don’t pass out. She just swallowed some smoke. The hospital’s going to keep her overnight but she’s fine.”

Her mother’s photo albums. Her prom dress. Her memories. Everything was gone. Pain clamped her stomach and twisted. She swallowed against the bile that rushed her mouth. No, not everything. She still had her sister. “I need to call her.”

“Wait until you can breathe, then you can.”

Something stiff in his tone made her peer up from her crouched position. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Let’s get you settled —”

“Tell me.”

“Dawson’s Diner. They set fire to the diner, too. The propane tank exploded.”

Prey. She was hunted prey and it was Open Lacy Season. It was Tuesday. The diner had a Senior buffet every Tuesday. All those people… A shudder gripped her spine, as if someone walked over her grave. “Was anyone hurt? No one died, did they?”

His silence confirmed an answer she dreaded.

“How many?”

“Nine.”

“No.” The violation and violence ricocheted through her. Emotional overload hovered, waiting to crash down. Her chin trembled when she looked into his eyes. “They’re dead because of me?”

“Not you, Lace. You didn’t do anything.”

“But they’re still dead. I have to go. I need to go.” Wild adrenalin coursed through her, slicking her forehead with sweat. “I need to be there. Help them.”

“Think, Lace.” He shook her. Her head snapped back, but her brain cleared enough to listen to him. “Everyone around you is in danger. You have to stay away.”

Everyone around her. Erik was in danger, too. “No, I can’t let them hurt you.”

A soft chuckle bathed her forehead. “Babe, this is what I do, what my team does. We guard and protect, Lacy. Annie is safe where she is. Just let us keep you safe as well. There is nowhere on Earth safer for you right now than here.”

Firm strength cupped her elbow, helping her stand, but her mind couldn’t process. The Children’s Home catching fire while she was at the festival couldn’t be a coincidence. And the diner? Nine people died. She was homeless and some crazy cult wanted her dead. She had nothing but the clothes on her back.

Panic crashed and she whirled from him, clutched her knees and dry heaved. Nothing but thin, bitter liquid came out.

Erik’s large hand ran up her spine. “Everything is going to be all right.”

He was wrong. Nothing would ever be all right again. No matter what happened, people had died and they could never be brought back. The faces of her regular customers flashed in her mind. Who was gone and who survived? Who would take care of Mrs. Finney’s dogs if she’d been lost? Had Linda been there? She’d just gotten a clean bill of health after chemo treatments. What about Doreen? The head waitress had sole custody of her youngest grandchild. Missy was only four. Who would take her in?

She had no idea how long she hunched there, the sick smell of bile filling her nose, tears streaming over her cheeks. Erik never slowed his palm’s caress. He never tried to make her stop or take her in his arms. He let her grieve, to flush the horror out with the vomit, to purge herself. When she couldn’t puke anymore, he gripped her hand tight and led her to a set of silver doors.

The elevator movement played havoc with her stomach and she groaned, leaning into him. They didn’t go far, but she wasn’t sure if they’d gone up or down. When the doors opened, the wall-pounding throb of heavy-metal music magnified her aching head.

Erik stepped out and she followed, clinging to his hand. A door loomed in her sight, dark and menacing. Above the doorframe, someone had chalked “
Gehinnom: Valley of the Wicked.
”

Erik grimaced. “Ignore that. Some guys were just goofing off.”

The Valley of the Wicked sounded like a B-grade horror flick and she flashed on every haunted house she’d ever been to. Her belly tensed in anticipation of a mummy popping out of the dark. Vike opened a door and Lacy screamed.

A vampire with long black hair and lethal ivory fangs loomed in the doorway. His black muscle shirt left his arms bare, huge biceps sporting skulls and blood-dripping chain tattoos. Those overgrown incisors glistened as the vampire mimicked her shriek.

Erik punched him in the solar plexus. “Quit being a dick, Dray.”

The vampire’s tongue popped the plastic fangs from his mouth. They fell into his cupped palm. A hysterical laugh bubbled on her tongue. Plastic. There was no such thing as vampires. Men did not have snakes’ tongues. People didn’t melt to dust on parking lots. She was going crazy.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting tomorrow’s Halloween. I thought you were a real vampire.”

The not-a-vampire’s jaw twitched. “Do I look like I fucking sparkle?”

“Enough. Turn the music off.” Erik pulled Lacy through the doorway.

The massive room full of leather couches and audio equipment resembled an overgrown frat house complete with dirty dishes, empty pizza boxes and random clothes strewn everywhere. Video game units and pinball machines lined one wall and a pool table sat under a dingy hanging light. On a wide plasma set, a porn flick overran a second screen showing muted national news.

The music shut off and all conversation slammed to a halt. Four men, not counting the pseudo-vampire, focused on her. She recognized Rex but his face held none of the earlier friendliness. His
what the fuck are you doing
glare lasered on Erik.

She shrank a little closer to Erik. “This is a bad idea.”

“Hey, easy, it’s okay.” Rough hands cupped her shoulders.

“Tell them that.” She peered around his arm. The animosity in the room pulsed like an angry toothache. She was definitely not welcome into the testosterone pool. “They don’t look like they want a houseguest.”

“They’ll adapt.” A gentle kiss landed on her forehead. “No one will hurt you, I promise. Trust me?”