Dark Child of Forever (Dark Destinies Book 3)

by S. K. Ryder

  “A common mistake, Esteban,” he said flatly.

  The brittle smile did not reach the Spaniard’s eyes. “Some fool recently tried to convince us that you are the—what was it?—the root of our species? The ‘lord’ of us all?”

  “Because it is so. Shall I show you?” Dominic held out his hand. His strength wouldn’t hold up in a fight, but a re-siring he could manage. Not that he expected to be taken up on that offer.

  Esteban scoffed. “So you take me for a fool as well? All I smell here”—he tipped his chin up and made a show of sniffing the air—“is youngling trouble.”

  That mush in Dominic’s brain suddenly coalesced in a chilling realization. He was inside a room in which blood-drinkers were routinely executed—and the only way out was blocked by the individual who did the executing.

  This must have shown in his face, for Esteban’s smile widened into a grin.

  “Adilla swore he would end you if you ever crossed his path.”

  “Then let him try. It is him I have come to see.”

  “Oh. Well. I’m afraid you just missed him. And in his absence, crossing my path is as good as crossing his. So . . .”

  Dominic reached the door the instant the lock caught and latched. The sound of the heavy steel slab slamming home reverberated in the concrete walls and plate glass window. He tamped down a spike of fear. He wasn’t shackled. He’d been in worse traps. This was not a problem.

  “Then you are a fool, Esteban,” he called, both hands against the door and mustering all the nonchalance at his command. “If I die, we all die. Including you.”

  There was a long stretch of silence with a faint undercurrent of Esteban’s heart. But then the other blood-drinker seemed to make up his mind, and the heartbeat, too, disappeared.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dominic stepped away from the door, staring at it as though it were an alien invader. Summoning every shred of strength, he landed a massive kick against it. Every bone in his foot shattered on impact. The door itself didn’t suffer so much as a dent. He swallowed an agonized scream in a grunt and a heartfelt huff of “Putain!”

  The phone in his pocket buzzed.

  “What is going on?” Cassidy demanded the moment he swiped to accept the call.

  “I found the place where Aubrey was executed.”

  “And?”

  “And . . .” He turned around, scanning every square inch of the tiny prison. “I seem to be trapped in it.”

  “What?”

  “I am not shackled and dawn is two hours away. There is no cause for panic just yet.” Though his gut heartily disagreed. There, panic simmered like a vat of acid.

  Frantic rustling sounded on her end. Sheets being tossed and drawers opened. Her voice muffled and distorted as she moved the phone. “ . . . building that Natalia showed you? On Georgia Street?”

  “What? Yes.”

  “Good. I’m coming to get you.”

  That vat of acid stepped up to a full boil. “No. No, do not leave there. And do not come here. Never come here. Do you understand? Not even during the day.” Compelled humans operating on Adilla’s behalf were bound to be in the area at all times, perhaps throughout the entire city. For all he knew he was being monitored right now. He dared not mention her name or her location or reveal any clues as to her immense importance to him.

  “Why? I thought there was no one else there?”

  Dominic leaned one forearm against the concrete wall. “I did not exactly trap myself in here.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Promise me, you will stay where you are. Please. I will think of something.”

  “I don’t like this.” But she sounded calmer. “I’ll give you an hour. Then I will definitely think of something.”

  Dominic smiled to himself. A warrior queen lived in that fragile mortal body he so adored. “Just stay there.”

  After the call disconnected, he paced the periphery of the room. It was little more than a storage closet. A heavily fortified one. He slammed several more kicks and punches at every wall with nothing but more broken bones to show for it. As his wrist knit back together yet again, he stood staring out the window at the traffic flowing far below. This glass he could break. There were no ledges or handholds visible outside. A direct drop looked like the only option, but a fall from this height could well kill even an immortal if his head hit the pavement hard enough to shatter. Not a risk he wanted to take as long as dawn wasn’t imminent.

  Half an hour later, Dominic had made small headway on a weak spot of one wall where a chip of concrete had broken free under his assault. Several more, smaller ones followed, but progress was tediously slow. After every punch or kick, he had to wait for his bones to mend, and the healing interval was growing longer and longer as he exhausted what little strength he had left.

  He was waiting to heal again, when he heard another heartbeat. This one was slower than Esteban’s, but also stronger as it approached in no particular hurry. Dominic didn’t move or call out. His own racing heart would betray his presence to the newcomer well enough.

  The lock unlatched and the door swung into the room. A new blood-drinker surveyed him, but instead of Esteban’s contempt, this man looked troubled. He was Asian, not tall, but built like a small truck and possessed of a quiet, imposing presence. He wore a long, tan overcoat that was unbuttoned, revealing a standard suit and tie. No hat or gloves. His hooded eyes flickered to the damaged wall before settling on the prisoner.

  Dominic rose to his feet and moved toward the door. He was in far poorer shape now than he had been earlier, and this new vampire, judging by his dry scent, was easily twice Esteban’s age. Dominic would take no chances about being trapped in here again, though he didn’t relish a direct confrontation.

  None was forthcoming. The other vampire stepped aside and let him pass. Dominic put the long conference table between them before he stopped. “Thank you.”

  His rescuer inclined his head and spoke with a voice that rumbled in his chest. “Just tell me this, young one. What did you do to piss him off?”

  “I exist.”

  “Ah. The usual then.”

  Dominic shook out his hand to speed the healing process. “The usual?”

  “This is the domain of the great Adilla,” he said, waving both hands in the air, derision dripping from his tongue. “No blood-drinker survives here without his favor. You wouldn’t be the first new arrival to run afoul of him.”

  “He murdered my emissary.” At the other’s questioning look, Dominic amended, “My friend.”

  “And you came running for revenge? Not wise.”

  “You are here. Are you implying you have his favor then?”

  The broad, gentle face split into a savage grin that made Dominic’s hackles rise. “He would love to kill me if he could. But I am just this little bit too strong and too clever. I survive. And in this city, I am an eternal thorn in his side.” The grin faded. “Fear not. Any foe of Adilla’s is a friend of mine. And any victim of his is under my protection.”

  “Then I am in your debt. Je vous remercie.”

  “You are lucky is what you are. Adilla and his sycophants left two nights ago for their summer quarters. So when I spotted his goon, Esteban, in the street earlier, I knew something ugly must be happening.” He glanced Dominic up and down. “Strange that he would stay behind to trap a mere youngling.”

  “I am a very big thorn,” Dominic said, flashing an equally ferocious grin. He wouldn’t even try to explain it. Not in his present condition. No blood-drinker in their right mind would believe a word of the truth from him right now. “My name is Dominic Marchant.”

  “Isao Kiyomori,” the other offered with a small bow. Coming closer, he continued. “Put all fantasies of revenge aside and leave this city. Tonight. Esteban will co
me for your ashes tomorrow night. If he doesn’t find them, he will find you. Am I making myself clear?”

  “I do not have the luxury of seeking revenge, no matter how deserved.” Isao smelled of deep, dark woods, confirming Dominic’s estimate of his age. Not quite a millennial, but close. And not an entity to trifle with. “I also do not have a choice about finding Adilla. Can you tell me where he is?”

  Isao studied him. “I could. But I won’t. I won’t be responsible for your death. But understand this, young one. If you stay here, you are on your own. I save those I can when I can, but I’m not carrying a battle to Adilla.”

  He brushed past Dominic and headed for the exit, but stopped when Dominic said, “Why is that, old man? If you oppose him, surely he has caused you grief?”

  Isao didn’t respond for so long, Dominic turned to see him paused in the doorway, one hand on the frame as if to steady himself. With quiet vehemence he said, “Adilla has caused me grief beyond measure—ever since the night he turned me.” Glancing over his shoulder, he added, “I cannot destroy him without destroying myself.”

  Dominic opened his mouth, but Isao was already gone. “I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

  Chapter 14

  Necessary Evils

  When Dominic emerged from his lair in the suite’s closet the following night, Cassidy embraced him. Her delicious scent wafted around him as he held her close. Her delicious, ripe, pregnant scent.

  “Finally,” she muttered against his shoulder. “The sun takes forever to set around here.”

  She was dressed to go out. And there were two other, unexpected but familiar heartbeats thumping away in the suite’s living room.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, stepping back to appraise him with a critical eye.

  “Restored,” he assured her. After the previous night’s trials, he had indulged in all the blood he could find until the sun was all but up. That plus a full day spent at rest rather than pretending at mortality had restored him to the full and terrifying power of the Lord of Night.

  “Maybe you can restore us tonight, too,” she suggested with one brow arched in impatient inquiry.

  Her mind was a complete blank to him now, and the gleam in her eyes said she was more than ready to feel his bite and surrender to him and the passion that would follow. His teeth, along with other parts of his body, ached with anticipation. But now was not the time. Their ritual was private and intimate and not something he wanted to share with their present company. “Plus tard.”

  “Yes,” she agreed with a sigh. “Definitely later.”

  Dominic swapped his wrinkled shirt for a fresh one, finger-combed his hair and followed Cassidy into the living room.

  Jackson and Garrett Striker rose from the sofa when they entered. Both their faces were lined with exhaustion, though Garrett’s far more so than his nephew’s. “Gentlemen. I did not expect you.”

  “Can’t keep me down for long. You know that,” Garrett said and smoothed his thinning hair against his skull. A strange discomfort edged his usually feral smile.

  The bantering response gave Dominic pause. For all the time the hunters had worked for him, the moments they all occupied the same space could be counted on one hand. Unless he was moving in for a kill, Garrett kept his distance from all things vampire.

  Dominic and Cassidy settled into the second sofa. She, too, watched Garrett with suspicion. As did Jackson.

  The two hunters sat again. Jackson placed a small, flat case on the table. “You didn’t ask for this, but the lab’s been busy. I thought you might have a use for them, so I had them couriered today. There are three doses in here.”

  No need to ask three doses of what. Dominic was glad he survived the last of the suppressant. Now here were three more temptations. Three more opportunities to fight to be human again, fail again, weaken himself again. Put himself and Cassidy at risk again.

  “Merci,” he said, but didn’t touch the case. It sat like a coiled snake in his awareness as he summarized the events of the previous night for his visitors. Jackson looked grim when he heard about the trap Dominic had found himself in, Garrett thoughtful.

  “So they’re not even in the city anymore?” Jackson asked.

  “Most of them are gone, yes. But Isao tells me that Esteban will come looking for me if he doesn’t find my ashes. Probably right about now.”

  “Does he have any idea where to start looking?” Garrett wondered.

  “No. He has a name, nothing more. And that name is not associated with anything here, including this suite. The only way he can find me is if he or someone he has compelled, sees me.”

  “Well, he won’t know to look for us,” Jackson offered. “If we can find him, we can do the usual tag, track and trap for you.”

  Dominic searched Jackson’s face and found the same sincerity that hummed in his voice. “Non. It is not necessary for you to take such a risk.” With a glance at Garrett, he added, “Neither of you appears to be at your best right now.”

  Garrett gave a grim nod. “I’m afraid that’s true.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in a hospital? In Germany?” Cassidy wondered, making no effort to veil her contempt.

  “Yes, I guess I should be. But I felt I could do more good here.”

  “As what? Vampire bait?” she fired back.

  “You would drag yourself through death’s door for the promise of a prestigious kill?” Dominic asked.

  Garrett touched his fingertips together. “If that’s what you need from me. Yes.”

  Dominic’s eyes widened at the earnest declaration, and his jaw dropped a bit at his old foe’s next words.

  “Though I’ll be better at it if I could get some magic juice from you.”

  Jackson looked at his uncle and sat back into the sofa, withdrawing from the conversation.

  Dominic inclined his head. Very softly he said, “Are you asking for my blood?”

  “I am.” A glance at his nephew who made a you’re on your own gesture with one hand. “I already had what little we took from the guy who put me in the hospital. It got me this far. But I’m not healed yet.”

  “My blood?” Dominic asked again, incredulous. “The blood of the vampire you tried to burn to death?”

  “The irony isn’t lost on me, if that’s what you mean. But the circumstances have changed. I need to feel useful, and like it or not, the only way I can do that is through you. All I’m asking is that you help me be useful now.”

  Without taking his eyes off Garrett, Dominic reached over to the side table where glass tumblers rested upside down beside the ice bucket. He opened a gash in his wrist. By the time it sealed again, the glass was half filled with blood. This he placed on the table before him in a silent challenge.

  Garrett was a sorry excuse for a human being, but he had also served Dominic well despite his prejudices. He had earned himself a favor.

  No one moved when Garrett reached for the glass. “Bottoms up.” He stifled a gasp on the first swallow, but continued gulping until the blood was gone. Then he placed the empty tumbler down with exaggerated care, cleared his throat several times, and shook his head. Color oozed back into his ashen face. The haze of pain left his eyes, and his heart beat with new vigor. “That has some serious kick to it.”

  “Are you feeling better now?” Jackson asked, sounding a bit dubious.

  Garrett prodded at his left side. “Just a little bit sore, but I’m good to go.” Looking at Dominic, he added, “Thank you.”

  Dominic made no reply, still mystified by this man’s extraordinary request.

  Jackson broke the awkward silence. “So if you don’t need us to bag this Esteban character for you, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  Dominic exchanged a glance with Cassidy who looked as baffled as he felt. “I nee
d to find Isao. He knows where his sire has gone.”

  “Hold on,” Garrett said, lifting a hand. “His sire? Adilla is your Good Samaritan’s sire?”

  “So he claims.”

  “Then what for the love of God makes you think he’ll help us put him down?”

  “What makes you think I plan to destroy Adilla?”

  “Well, it sure doesn’t sound like he wants to play ball with you.”

  “He is not ‘playing ball’ because he does not know the rules of my game yet. Nor do I intend to condemn his descendants without very good reason.”

  “All right then. Isao it is. I say we hit the road, you and I, while we have plenty of night left.” He got up and gestured at his nephew. “Jack will stay here and make sure Cassidy is safe.”

  Jackson blinked. “Wait. What?”

  Dominic tilted his head at Garrett. While Garrett’s enthusiasm was commendable, Dominic couldn’t imagine spending time alone in his company.

  Cassidy’s phone chose that moment to ring in the bedroom. She sprang up and rushed to get the call as though having expected it.

  “As you can see, I’m in tip-top shape now,” Garrett continued. “That’s thanks to you, so let me repay you. I’ve got your back.”

  “You are no match against the blood-drinkers I have encountered here so far. Even with my blood,” he added on a pointed note.

  In the bedroom, Cassidy was speaking on her phone. He couldn’t make out the words of the caller through all the surrounding mayhem, but the tiny voice itself sent a ripple of alarm up the back of his neck. “Stay here with Jackson,” he said.

  Garrett opened his mouth to argue, but Dominic shot up a hand. “Assez. Enough.”

  He got up and joined Cassidy who had just disconnected the call. “Was that—?”