by Lynn Hagen
There was a curious tilt to Salvador’s eyebrows as he looked back at Freedman, almost if the man was amused by Freedman’s dismissal. The delight in Salvador’s eyes contradicted the slow curling back of his lip. Freedman stared, then blinked, and then stared again when he saw a glint of white fang flash.
“Was that meant to scare me?” Freedman asked as he nodded toward the man’s sharp teeth. “Because, believe me, I’ve seen bigger and scarier.” Really, he hadn’t, but Freedman was not about to let the man intimidate him. It was bad enough he was drawn toward the stranger in a way he just couldn’t explain. But there was no way in hell he was going to let the vampire know he was ready to take a step back.
Giving the vampire that kind of knowledge was like handing the man dangerous ammunition. He didn’t know Salvador, and Freedman didn’t plan on getting to know him.
Salvador moved closer to Freedman, his strides graceful and predatory. “I seriously doubt that you have,” the vampire said in a low, feral Brazilian accent.
Freedman shivered at the accent and turned away, heading for a vehicle. He didn’t care which one. He just knew if he didn’t put some space between him and the man who seemed to call to a deeper part of him, he’d hit someone.
Salvador was at the top of his list.
Rick was next.
Freedman was tired of no one having a plan to rescue Omar or even willing to come up with a plan. Omar had been a prisoner for almost a year now. He was well aware of the threat the military had made when Omar was being captured. If anyone came near the place, the changelings would be executed before one single Rebellion came within three hundred yards.
Freedman had seen what the government had done to other changelings in just a few weeks or months. He didn’t even want to contemplate what might have happened to Omar during his time in captivity.
The thing that gutted him was that he didn’t even know if he was going in to rescue someone alive or dead. He just knew he had to try. Omar meant too much to him to simply give up without even finding out if the man had survived. If he had to rescue Omar’s body and bury him, then that was what he’d do. But the man would not be left in the hands of the sick-ass freaks that had taken him.
Freedman climbed into one of the vehicles and shut the door. A moment later, the other door opened and Salvador glided in beside him. Freedman found himself grinding his molars again as he opened his door and climbed back out of the vehicle, heading to another one. At this rate, he wouldn’t have any teeth left.
Freedman climbed into the next vehicle and closed the door. When Salvador climbed into the other side, Freedman started to reach for his gun. “Dude, you seriously need to back the fuck off.”
Salvador had Freedman in his grips in the blink of an eye. The vampire had a firm hold on Freedman’s upper arms. “I am being very patient with you, meu destino. I could take you from these men with no qualms. If you want to stay with your little band of Rebellions, then I suggest you take my offer of help.”
Freedman leaned in close, so close he could see small flecks of blue in the dark irises. It was simply stunning, but Freedman refused to compliment the man. “Threaten me again and my little Merry Men will shoot your ass.”
When Salvador reached out and caressed Freedman’s cheek, Freedman almost flinched but caught himself. “You are very stubborn, meu destino.”
“What do you keep calling me?”
Salvador smiled, showing the tip of his fangs. “Be nice and I just might tell you.”
Freedman was reluctant to agree. He didn’t want a vampire’s help. There was a feeling inside of him that whispered to Freedman, telling him that if he accepted this man’s help, it would be like making a deal with the devil.
Not a lot of things scared Freedman. But his instincts were telling him to be very wary of this stranger. “What do you want in return for helping me?” Freedman asked cautiously. There was no way this man was offering his help for free. Not when it was something as dangerous as going anywhere near the last remaining detention center—filled with people who would kill Salvador on sight just for being nonhuman.
“We can negotiate our terms later.”
“Do I look stupid to you?” Freedman asked. “You want to negotiate your terms after you help me so I can’t refuse you?”
“You are as intelligent as you are good-looking.”
Freedman wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult.
Salvador moved closer, making Freedman press his back into the door. He reached down for his gun, but Salvador’s hand was on his, stopping him. “Strike the bargain with me, Freedman, and you will never regret it.” Salvador’s words were spoken in a soft promise that made Freedman terrified of the man.
Freedman swallowed, his eyes darting around Salvador’s handsome features. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Omar out unless he made the deal. No one else could help him. No one else wanted to go near the detention center for fear of not only their life, but of the government making good on their promise.
Freedman opened his mouth to once again ask what the bargain was, but Salvador closed the distance, taking Freedman’s lips in a kiss that felt as though Freedman’s insides were sparking to life. His heart thumped a little faster. His breath came out a little quicker.
And his cock was full and heavy, pressing painfully into his zipper.
His mind was screaming to push Salvador away, but his arms were reaching up and linking behind the man’s neck. The contradiction was a battle inside Freedman, but he didn’t pull away.
Salvador licked at Freedman’s bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth, and then there was a sharp pain. Freedman knew that Salvador had nipped him. The man began sucking feverishly at Freedman’s lower lip…and Freedman let him.
Finally, Salvador pulled back, licking his lips as the red ring around his irises seemed to glow. “You taste better than I had hoped, meu destino.”
Lying there a little dazed, all Freedman could do was blink. He was too terrified to speak, because the words I’ll do whatever you want were just behind his lips. Freedman wasn’t going to let them free.
“Strike the bargain with me, Freedman.”
Freedman shivered at hearing his surname on Salvador’s lips. The accent made his last name sound so damn exotic. “I—” Freedman blinked a few times, ripping his gaze from Salvador’s, trying his best to gather his wits. What was this man doing to him? He glanced back up at the vampire. “No.”
Salvador’s lips pulled back, exposing his fangs. “Be careful, Freedman. You will not like me when I am angry.”
Freedman pushed Salvador away from him, grabbing his gun at the same time and aiming the barrel at the man’s forehead. “And you won’t like me if I really get pissed. Get out of this truck, now.”
Salvador leaned back, smiling. “I have tasted you. There is nowhere you can go now that I won’t find you. Remember, Freedman, you need me, not the other way around.”
“I don’t need you,” Freedman gritted out.
Salvador threw his head back and laughed, the sound sliding down Freedman’s skin like a lover’s caress. He shook the feeling off as he kept his gun aimed at the vampire. “Get. Out.”
The vampire flicked his wrist and the gun eased away from the vampire’s head. Freedman was still trying to figure out why he lowered it when Salvador moved closer once more. “Your threats are making me feel a hundred years younger, but be careful, Freedman. I won’t let you harm me, and you just might gain my fury.” The vampire ran the back of his knuckles down Freedman’s face. “Trust me, you really do not want that.”
Freedman firmed his jaw and told himself he was doing this for Omar. “The bargain is struck. Now get Omar out of the detention center.” He just hoped like hell he wasn’t going to end up Salvador’s main course.
Raising Freedman’s wrist, Salvador bit down.
“You son of a bitch!” Freedman shouted as he tried to pull his wrist free, but he could feel the skin tugging, threatening to tea
r free if he pulled any harder. “Do you know what you’ve just done? I’m a fucking fang junkie now!”
Salvador licked the wound closed and gazed up at Freedman. “Nonsense. I am a muerto desde el útero. Our bites are nonaddictive. I was sealing our pact with blood.”
Grabbing his wrists, Freedman saw the wound heal, but two tiny scars were left behind. He knew for a fact that vampire bites healed, leaving no scar behind. Salvador was not a turned vampire. Yeah, he had heard Dorian already say that, but the truth struck home as he stared at the tiny permanent pinpricks. “I’m so screwed,” he murmured, thinking of the bargain he had just struck with the man.
“That remains to be seen,” Salvador replied, but Freedman didn’t see any lascivious intent in the man’s eyes. He had spoken the stark truth. “Now where is this last remaining detention center?”
Freedman tore his eyes away from the scar and glared up at Salvador, angry with himself for being so foolish as to make a bargain with a vampire. “Nevada.”
Salvador nodded and slipped from the truck.
Freedman followed, feeling as if he just given up his soul.
“We are to head to Nevada,” Salvador said to Rick.
Freedman was a little surprised when Rick glared at Salvador, but didn’t comment. Rick wasn’t a man to mix words or stand down, but that was exactly what he was doing, standing down.
“Can’t I just shoot his ass?” Nate asked. “He creeps me the hell out.”
“I second that,” Selene said. “I’m itching to shoot someone, and since I mated Sasha, I can’t shoot him.”
“I’m flattered,” Sasha said, but smiled playfully at Selene.
“Load up, people. We’re heading out,” Rick said loudly, glancing over his shoulder at Salvador with a mixture of hate and hesitation in his light-grey eyes.
Freedman knew as he followed the others that he had just paid the ultimate price for Omar’s rescue. He just wondered if he would live after Salvador collected.
Chapter Six
Salvador met them between Winnemucca and Black Butte, Nevada. Admittedly, the area was picturesque, but his mind was on other things. He had chosen not to ride with Freedman’s group. Their vehicles were cramped, and Salvador loathed feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. He had dealt with that feeling for too many centuries to allow himself to ride in a cramped vehicle.
Salvador took a look around. Dawn was approaching and he needed to find a place to rest. Being nearly thirteen hundred years old, even the smallest rays were harmful to him. He would meet the group, let them know he would be back at true dark, and then find a place to sleep for the day.
But until then, Salvador moved a little closer to the detention center, getting his first glimpse of the place. Helicopters whirled up above, tanks were lined in a row all around the perimeter, and there were guards everywhere.
It seemed the humans weren’t taking any chances.
He slowly turned his head when he heard something behind him.
“Hands slowly in the air.”
Salvador scented the air. Human.
He raised his hands, turning his head to see a male standing behind him in a military uniform, rifle aimed directly at Salvador’s heart. “It would be best if you lowered your weapon.”
The man’s eyes flickered over Salvador, and then he met Salvador’s eyes.
The weapon began to lower.
Another male came from behind a copse of tall bushes, his rifle aimed as well. “Snap out of it, Private Williams. You know better than to look a vampire in his eyes.”
The second man was looking at Salvador’s chest, but the barrel of his rifle was dead accurate. “Again, lower your weapon.”
“Not likely,” the second soldier replied with a lethal edge to his voice. “Get your hands all the way in the air and turn back around.”
Salvador pushed into the man’s mind. What these young humans failed to realize was that Salvador was a vampire by birth. He was also old enough to where he didn’t need to enthrall them with his eyes.
The second soldier began to lower his rifle.
Salvador searched their minds, getting the layout of the detention center from the inside. He would need to know where he was going when rescuing Freedman’s friend.
“Get out of my head!” the second soldier shouted.
This one was strong-minded. He didn’t give as easily as the first. Breaching his mind wasn’t a problem, but holding on to it wasn’t as easy. Salvador pushed into the first soldier’s mind instead—although he hadn’t let the second one go—and found Private Williams to be a wealth of information.
“I swear I’m going to kill you just as soon as you release me,” the second soldier threatened, thin anger lines marring his young mouth.
Salvador glanced at him and then curled the side of his mouth into a predatory smile. “Who said I was going to release you, human?”
A spark of fear entered the man’s blue eyes. He could tell it was finally sinking in that the guy was in deep trouble.
“I still haven’t fully nourished myself.” Salvador sized the man up. “And you’ll do just fine.” He breathed out the last word, feeling his mouth water at the thought of replenishing what he had used to travel to Nevada.
“Picking on the locals?” Freedman asked as he appeared from Salvador’s right. Salvador could see the trucks Freedman and the rest of his group were traveling in sitting off to the side. He had been so busy with these two men that he hadn’t heard the trucks approach.
That was not good. It was a sure sign he was growing weaker.
“I would say they were picking on me”—Salvador pointed to their guns, inwardly chuckling at the idea that these two men could hurt him—“and were ready to take my life.”
“Somehow I highly doubt that,” Freedman said with irritation as he walked over to the two soldiers and relieved them of their firearms.
The first soldier was watching Salvador, his eyes filled with a soft eerie light, hateful and fearful at the same time. The man wasn’t under as deep as Salvador had thought.
“I need to find a resting place,” Salvador said as he watched the two soldiers. Why weren’t they so easily swayed into the haze he had put them under? It was as if Salvador was losing his touch.
Which was nonsense. The older a vampire became, the stronger he became. Not weaker. The two should be willing to do his bidding like the lap dogs that they were. Instead, both glared at him, their black pupils fixated with hate.
“What about Omar?” Freedman asked.
Salvador cleared his throat. “I will be back when the light is gone from the sky.”
“That is one strange-ass guy,” Dorian said as he watched Salvador vanish. “Are you sure he isn’t going to try and drain us?”
Sasha and Nate tied the two soldiers up as Freedman shouldered their rifles. “Hell if I know,” Freedman said as he glanced toward the detention center.
Dorian looked as well and gasped. He had heard the place was more secure than Fort Knox, but seeing it was too damn surreal. His gut clenched as he watched the helicopters fly high up above. How in the hell were they supposed to get past those? He wasn’t changeling, but his eyesight was good enough to see the guns that were sitting right inside the helicopters.
If they stepped out into the open, they were dead.
Somehow Dorian knew a brave speech from Rick wasn’t going to do it this time. Not only had the government swore to kill the changelings who were being held captive if anyone looked like they were coming to fight, but the changeling Rebellions had refused to come this time.
Most said there was no way to penetrate those walls. Dorian couldn’t blame the changelings. Most were fighting to stay alive. Banding together to free the prisoners of the last remaining detention center was a sure way to die.
“Looks impossible, doesn’t it?” Rick asked as he stepped next to Dorian.
Standing there looking at the place they were supposed to attack with a handful of people onl
y made Dorian realize that this fight was taking its toll on him. Was the fighting and running ever going to stop?
Was the war going to last for years? Dorian felt ill thinking about being on the run for years. He knew in his heart he couldn’t do it. Mason had taken Dorian’s brother, Ian, to a safe hiding place, somewhere Dorian’s parents, Edward, Isabelle, and their child were staying.
But Dorian knew he wasn’t going to be going anywhere safe.
He was going to the detention center to free the changelings.
“Yeah,” he answered solemnly. “Impossible.”
When Rick tried to pull Dorian close, he moved away, heading for the truck to help Nate and Sasha with the soldiers. They didn’t need help, but Dorian needed space.
Constantly running.
Constantly looking over his shoulder.
Constantly afraid they would be caught and killed.
Dorian wasn’t sleeping right. He kept having nightmares that either he or Rick—or both—were caught and tortured. Sometimes he dreamt they were outright killed. The fear was ever-present and constantly gnawing at his gut.
Maybe he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. Maybe he wasn’t built for this kind of life. For fuck’s sake, he had worked at a deli before all of this started. Dorian had never held a gun before going on the run with Rick.
He had thought himself a coward when the first detention center had been attacked, and Dorian hadn’t changed his mind. Pure luck was what he lived on. Plain and simple.
“Gatito,” Rick said as he walked up next to Dorian. “Talk to me.”
Dorian glanced back toward the detention center and all he could see was his and Rick’s death. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?” Rick asked, grabbing Dorian’s arm when he tried to walk away.
“This!” Dorian shouted as he waved a hand toward the detention center and then at the two soldiers tied up in the back of the truck. “The world has gone mad, and I feel like I’m drowning in the insanity. I’m tired of running, waking up in strange places, and wondering if today is the day I’m going to die.”