by J. L. Madore
“What? Wait . . . no,” she said, twisting in his grip.
Then, everything happened at once.
A gray van drove up fast and the side door slid open. Erich tossed her into the belly of the vehicle. The screech of tires swallowed her scream, and she gripped the metal interior of the vehicle, holding on for her life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The house was filled with the scents of food and the bustle of family. Seth followed the sound of male laughter into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. Tanek? His mind coughed up a hairball memory of standing shoulder to shoulder with his deceased brother in the operating room, discussing mortality.
Had that been real?
Austin spotted him standing in the entrance and rushed to him, arms open wide. If there was one thing Seth would never tire of, it was Austin’s hugs. Their Texas wildflower was a devoted hugger and the first woman to give the group of them physical affection. She knew who and what they were, and loved them beyond reason despite it.
When she pulled back from his embrace, she looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so relieved you’re better, sugar. You gave us quite a scare.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and stepped back, the depth of her love too much to accept at times. “So . . . am I rocking some kind of aftershock here, or is that Tanek standing over there with Z and Bo?”
She giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him along in her wake. “Come on. I’ll let Zander tell you.”
Zander handed him a dram of whisky and raised his own tumbler. Bo and Tanek did the same. “Lady Divinity, our wise and benevolent mistress, patron of the innocent, goddess of the Otherworld, has seen it in her heart to return our exalted leader to our care.”
Seth let that long-winded ode to Milady sink in while the three of them sucked back their booze. By the flushed cheeks and level of chatter, he wondered how many of those toasts had hit the airwaves. “So . . . is it more like a reincarnation, or a resurrection kinda thing?”
“It’s more like a haunting,” Tanek said, shaking his head at his expression. “I accept it happily, my brother. I’m still dead but can take physical form here at the racetrack. I’m bound to the property and will be acting as your overwatch.”
That Tanek once again had their backs was amazing. The band was back together. The missing piece of the puzzle found under the couch cushion and pressed in place. “When you say, ‘bound’ to the racetrack, what does that mean?”
“Just that. I’m a fixture. The houseguest that never leaves. Zander and Austin were gracious enough to welcome me into their home, and now it’s my forever home too.”
The baby fussed in her little bed and Tanek put his hand up. “Please, let me. I’m so fucking stoked to be an uncle, I can’t even tell you.”
As he jogged over to tend to the child with Austin at his side, Zander and Bo closed in.
“It’s pretty incredible, right?” the Viking said. “He’s going to be here with the wives and the kids full-time, and be the voice in our comms when we’re in the field.”
Seth’s mind stalled out on “kids.” Yeah, he guessed there was Niobe, his kid on the way, and if Phoenix and Storme were trying, there would be another addition on the horizon.
He kinda liked the idea that his kid would have cousins the same age to grow up with. Like him and Phoenix.
His phone rang. Freeing it from his pocket, he checked the ID and swiped green. “Yo, D, whassssup?”
“Is Thea there? Is she home? I need you to check.”
Zander and Bo were close enough to hear, and broke off to search the house. They headed in different directions and Seth hit the stairs. When he was sure Austin was out of earshot, he went for details. “What’s doin’, D?”
“She came with Ronnie and I to the club, and now she’s gone. We’ve all given her the riot act about going outside but I’m sorry, my brother, she just ain’t here.”
Seth hit the end of the third-floor corridor and let himself into the two-bedroom suite designed for him and Phoenix.
Damn. Phoenix said Austin had outdone herself, but he’d never taken the time to check it out.
He really was an insensitive shit.
He crossed the vast living room and headed to the bedroom on the left. After a quick knuckle rap, he opened the door and stuck his head in. ’Kay, that was obvi Phoenix and Storme’s room, so he closed things up and headed to what would have been his room.
Again, with the knuckle rap and letting himself in.
“Thea?” He jogged through the bedroom toward the en suite. “You in here, angel?” Empty. “No, D. She’s not here.”
Danel cursed. “Hold a sec.”
Seth stopped, staring down at the dresser while he waited. Holy adult toy sexplosion. He checked out the pile of purchases and his beast yanked hard on its tether. The angel was prepping for some serious self-pleasuring.
Huh, whaddayaknow. She never ceased to surprise him.
Who needed love when you’ve got silicone and strap-ons, right? Damn straight. He’d told her to keep her eyes on the horizon. Good for her. Shame she had to settle, though. Thea was a wildcat behind closed doors.
Images of the angel naked and writhing in the throes of orgasm overwrote all the programming of his brain. His beast growled as his cock thickened.
Damn, his timing really sucked these days.
She wasn’t for him . . . but she was spectacular.
“Okay, shit,” Danel said, breaking into his impure thoughts. “I’ve got her on the security feed in the parking lot, getting manhandled and tossed into a van.”
A wave of icy nausea hit Seth and he cleared the corridor at a run. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
His shitkickers thundered down three flights while his brain fritzed out completely. His beast fought his control as he ran through the house. “Zander!”
“In here,” he yelled from the kitchen.
Seth found him and Bo in the kitchen, chatting with Ringo and staring at his drawing pad. He didn’t pay any attention. He hit speaker on his phone and set the cell on the island. “She’s been snatched from the club.”
The growl that ripped from Zander’s chest foreshadowed things to come. Whoever did this was already walking dead. The only question—who’d get to do the honors, him or Zander?
Zander grabbed the phone and leaned in. “Danel, what do we know?”
“Not much,” the Persian said on the other end, over the clicking of fingers on plastic keys. “I’m sorry, Z. Meck got pulled from the door for a fight and she slipped out.”
“I think we know why,” Zander said, his glare hot and hard. He turned the drawing pad toward Seth and pointed at an image of Thea and some dude with an earring chatting it up. “She romanticized Mr. Right from one of Ringo’s drawings and went looking for her happily ever after.”
Seth closed his eyes, his body shaking. This was his fault.
Tanek and Austin filtered in to join the party.
“Danel, have we got anything on the plate or the ID of earring guy?”
“Nothing.”
“Your drawing did this?” Seth said, shoving the pad across the granite. “Thea and my unborn child are missing because she’s tracking down some fucking fairytale romance you drew up for her?”
Ringo went from looking half-asleep to fully scared shitless.
Zander gave Seth’s arm a squeeze and forced him back a step. “Easy, my brother. You’re scaring the townsfolk. None of this is his fault. Ringo, buddy, do you have any insight of who this is or why the vision came to you?”
Seth focused on breathing for a bit while Zander had a convo with the kid.
“She’s got Austin’s cuffs on in the picture,” Bo said, tapping a finger on the page. “Any chance she’s got them on for reals?”
“I left them by the sink,” Austin said.
Cue a bunch of heads cranking toward the sink. Nada.
“They have GPS tracking in them, don’t they?” Bo asked.
“They sure as hell do,” Zander said, pointing the way as he headed out. “D, track the cuffs. We’re gearing up and will be ready to roll in two minutes.”
Crying with her head in a cloth bag not only made it hard to breathe, it also disoriented Thea to the point of panic. Her world was dark and humid. Her hands caged with thin plastic rope behind her back. Her stupidity and regret too much to bear. What was wrong with her. This was her fault.
“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed.
“Oh, come on,” he said, chuckling. “You wanted to come home with me. You were practically begging for it.” Erich had a rough hold on her elbow. He marshalled her from the back of the van, across a concrete surface, and up a ramp. “I was about to leave empty-handed for yet another night when you practically chased me down.”
Empty-handed? “You planned to take me?”
He laughed harder. “Someone’s got an inflated opinion of herself. Not you specifically. Someone like you. My shopping list said female member of the Choir but the fact that you’re associated with the Sumerian was a stroke of pure luck. The universe smiled on me.”
He shoved her, and she crashed hard on her hip. Fear flared anew, her panic shifting from her safety to the safety of her unborn child. Austin was right. She should have focused on her baby and not been so selfish.
Her scalp stung as Erich yanked the bag off her head and pulled her hair. She blinked against the fluorescent lights of the storage room of a restaurant.
A solid slab of stainless-steel freezers covered the back wall, while both side walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with racks of ingredients, paper lanterns, and red and yellow boxes.
Nothing so mundane sat on the racks to her right. Those shelves were weighed down with large jars—dozens of them. She studied their scarlet contents, and something told her it wasn’t sweet and sour sauce.
“Where are we? What do you want?”
Erich knelt beside her, tugged her to sit, and petted her hair. “I want you to meet my Mistress. Now, be nice. She can be unpleasant if she doesn’t like you.”
Unpleasant? What did he consider himself?
A busty blonde in white leather strode in. She had a small box in one hand and in the other, chopsticks dangling a string of noodles up to her mouth.
Thea recognized Cassi’s evil half-sister immediately from Ringo’s drawings. Was knowing her captor better or worse? The Watchers considered her a low-level threat with a big ego, but she always paired up with stronger and higher-powered, despicable males.
When Thrash saw her on the floor, she swallowed, and her gaze brightened. “Oooh, a present. What did you bring me?”
Erich’s chest bounced with his amusement. “I stole an angel from the Sumerian’s club.”
Thrash burst out laughing and twirled around like a giddy child. “That’s hilarious. He’ll be so pissed. I wish I could have seen his face.”
She strode closer, bending down to take a closer look. “What kind of angel is she?”
“A Power.”
“Nicely done,” she said, straightening. “I’ll call our strange friend and make the arrangements.” She headed back the way she came. “Hot damn, this is gonna get good!”
Seth sat shotgun as Bo revved the engine of the Navigator and they readied to go on the offensive. Heads would roll tonight. His cells burned with the need to take his fury and fear out on whoever dared to touch and harm his baby mama. The Viking slapped it into gear when Brennus and Hark opened the back doors and hopped in.
“Welcome, boys,” he said, glancing to the back seat. “Glad to see your little nap is over.”
Hark raised an ebony brow and scowled.
Brennus made that Celtic noise that meant fuck-you. “I’m gonna have words with yer twin’s mate,” he snapped, placing his comm earpiece in place. “That was bad form.”
Bo pulled them out of the underground garage and sped down the long, private driveway toward the gate. Seth stared at the night sky out the passenger window and sent a quick word up to Lady Divinity.
He would’ve thought Brennus’s comment about Storme funny if the situation was different. As it stood, Thea and his child were missing. His brother had accepted responsibility for her well-being with Auriel. And his brother was still comatose.
Not much room for humor.
“Comms are up,” Tanek said in their ears. “It’s good to be back with you, boys. Good luck.”
“Is that Tanek?” Brennus asked.
Seth checked the magazine of his M9 and holstered his weapon. “You slept through that. Tanek is back on the squad. Consider him ghostly ground control.”
“Who’s our commander?” he asked.
Seth met Bo’s gaze and they both shrugged. “No idea.”
When the inner gate closed behind the truck, the outer gate opened, and they pulled into the street. Normally, Seth was the brother behind the wheel, but he wanted the freedom to ghost out at any moment. “What have you got for us, Persian? Give us a direction.”
“Chinatown. Spadina to Dundas West.”
Bo hit the indicator and gunned it hard. They streaked down the city streets, the odd car coming or going, but no one to slow them down. No need to worry about lights either. Bo’s little gift from the heavens was the ability to manipulate mechanical things. Green lights all the way, baby.
“En route,” Zander said. He was airborne and hopefully working on focusing some of his beast’s rage. The Sumerian didn’t take it lightly when someone violated the safe zone status of his club. And by not taking it lightly, he meant Zander got downright homicidal.
Four minutes later, Bo slammed the shifter into park and the four of them bailed out, locked and loaded.
“Z’s got the back door secured,” Tanek said. “Seth and Bo take the loading dock. Brennus and Hark, you’re up front.”
“Stick to the shadows,” Zander added. “This place is wired for visual and we want the element of surprise.”
They broke apart, Seth’s blood pumping at a good clip. He jogged behind a box truck and worked his way toward the concrete ramp leading into the building from the alley behind. “I fucking love surprises.”
He visualized how this would go down. Over before it got started. They’d storm the place, get Thea, lop some heads, and be home for breakfast. Good guys for the win.
As the universe flipped him a middle-finger salute, the hair on his arms stood at attention. The charge in the atmosphere signaled the opening of a Darkworld portal.
“Bolthole,” he shouted, breaking cover and gunning it.
“Move,” Zander growled in their ears.
Seth was moving. Racing up the ramp to the loading door of the Magic Noodle, his soles barely touched the ground. Thea’s kidnapper was attempting to scurry back up the Dark Prince’s ass crack and he’d be damned if they took Thea and his child with them.
The door flew off its hinges as he burst inside.
If he could only get a shot off—
Across the storage area, the shimmering energy bridging two worlds swallowed a silhouette. He pumped his legs, pushing for that collapsing portal. He dove through the air, crashing to the concrete floor as the Bolthole closed and their easy peasy rescue vanished.
“Fuuuuck!”
Zander got inside the loading dock just in time to see Seth flying through the air in a Hail Mary dive. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he snapped. “That portal was collapsing and you tried to swan dive into it? It could have cut you in half.”
Seth brushed himself off, his scowl darker than he’d ever seen. “Don’t fucking start. We need to figure out who took her and where, not nitpick details.”
Zander met his glare and raised him a warning growl. “I don’t disagree, but going kamikaze isn’t the path. Simmer the fuck down and use your head for more than a battering ram.”
“Okay, boys,” Tanek said over their comms. “Danel lost the signal from the cuffs when the Bolthole closed and they didn’t pop back up on this Realm.”
/> “Well now,” Brennus said, tipping one of the mason jars from side to side. “With enough blood and organs preserved here to feed a Darkworld army, I think we can rule out the Lightworld as a possibility.”
Seth cursed. “So, the Hell Realm then.”
Zander nodded. “But where in Hell have they taken her?”
In the bowels of purgatory’s fiery caverns, Thea stumbled to keep up with the pace of her captors. Thrash, Erich, and the Shedim soldiers who accompanied them, each wore breath-dampened face masks, while she fought to breathe and, at the same time, not breathe the toxic, sulphurous air.
“Your first time in Hell, angel?”
She blinked, her eyes streaming as her lungs burned.
Stubbing her toe on a rocky jut, she staggered, and Erich yanked her back by the sleeve of her puffy, winter coat. The layers of insulated fabric cocooned her in a nauseating swell of heat but offered her baby some protection from the harsh treatment.
“Pyrac? Are you here?” Thrash called. Their group mounted a jagged crag and found a plateau with a mouth to a cave. She pointed to a spot beside the dark opening and her soldiers set down two large wooden barrels and a couple raw chunks of stone ore.
“What’s going on?” Thea choked, the poisonous air burning her tongue. “Why am I here?”
Thrash turned, her smile wide behind the condensation of the mask. “We’re here to commission more weapons. Pyrac is my father’s smithy.”
Hell-fired weapons that ripped Watcher flesh from bone.
“Disturbs me, you did,” a mucous-slick male said, raising a scarred fist as he exited the cave. His arms were as thick as telephone poles, his hands the size of shovels. Isolated patches of wiry green hair shot out from his scull in every direction.
The male’s face was malformed and grossly hideous.
“Don’t stare, angel,” Erich said, close to her ear. “What the Blood Dweorg lacks in appearance, he more than makes up for in craftsmanship and technical innovation.”
“Angel?” Pyrac repeated, his milky, red gaze darting to her. “You brings me magik blood? Likes your father?”