by Lynn Hagen
A soldier shot at him.
Salvador lifted his arms and made a slice through the air. The soldier hit the wall, his head cracking, and then he fell to the floor lifeless.
“Who are your mates?”
Salvador spun around, feeling the pain of separation as if someone had reached into his chest and was ripping his soul from his very body. “Where is Enrique?” He knew Freedman and Omar would be with Enrique.
Not only was he going to free his mates, but the Rebellion group as well. All changelings were going to get out of here, and then the humans and this building were going to burn to the ground.
Again, no one took his mates away from him.
Salvador began to slowly walk toward the man, cocking his head to the side. He pushed into the man’s head, sifting through the human’s memories until he found the one he wanted.
“You dare threaten such horrendous acts against Dorian?” Salvador liked Dorian. The small man had been ready to die before giving up Enrique’s location. The little warrior had not only intrigued Salvador, but had a spine of steel. Dorian had gained Salvador’s respect from the simple fact he wouldn’t betray his mate. It was very hard to impress Salvador, but the man had done it without any deceit, just being who he was.
“I don’t even know a Dorian,” the guard replied as he backed away and then spun around, fleeing.
Salvador grabbed the human’s mind, yanking on it and taking control. The soldier slowly pulled his firearm from its holster, pointed it to his head, and took his life.
“Your punishment was too light,” Salvador said as he walked past the lump on the floor. He now knew his mates were in the underground parking garage, shackled, and being marched toward the corridor leading to the labs.
Salvador summoned his coven as he headed toward his mates. They gathered behind him within minutes. But Salvador was growing weak. He had expended too much energy. He could feel weariness settling into his bones as his head began to pound painfully.
“We will finish this for you, Master Salvador,” one of his coven members said. “You need nourishment and rest.”
Salvador shook his head, feeling a deep pain settling inside in his chest. He wanted his mates. He couldn’t feed or rest until he knew the two were safe. Although they had just claimed one another, it felt as if he had known them his entire life. Now that they weren’t by his side, but in harm’s way, Salvador felt the large, gaping hole where his heart was.
“My mates first,” he said as he approached the door leading to the parking garage.
“Yes, My Lord.”
“As soon as I have secured them, feed from every human in here and then burn this place until only ashes are left behind.”
The vampire gave a slight bow.
Salvador pushed his hand out in front of him and the door exploded from its hinges. He stepped through the opening.
Freedman’s head snapped up, his chest tightening when he saw Salvador with a slew of men standing behind him. His mate looked like the angel of darkness as he stood there, glancing at each man in the garage.
The vampire spread his arms wide. “Come to me, my mates.”
Freedman grabbed Omar’s hand and headed toward Salvador. A soldier was stupid enough to block their path. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Freedman said as he waited for the man to move aside. “You are dealing with a very pissed-off ancient vampire. He doesn’t play nice with others.”
The guard glanced at Freedman, doubt creeping into his eyes. After a long pause, he stepped aside.
“Good choice,” Freedman said as he walked over to Salvador. “What’s our escape plan?”
Freedman was expecting the vampire to explain what was going on. Instead, he grabbed Freedman and sank into his mouth. The kiss was filled with passion and fire. Freedman was a bit dizzy when Salvador released him and then grabbed Omar, possessing the smaller man just the same.
Salvador glanced at them both and Freedman could not only see the weariness in the man’s eyes, but the worry. The man had been afraid that something had happened to his mates. “Did any harm come to either of you?” Salvador asked. “Were you hurt?”
They both shook their head no, but Freedman could feel his face heat up. He was not used to public displays of affection. That was not him. But it seemed to be Salvador because the man grabbed Freedman again, giving him a playful smile. “Your skin is so beautiful when it is a bright shade of pink. My warrior is not used to such open affections.” It was a statement.
“Well…” Freedman glanced at the Rebellion group and then back at Salvador, feeling the embarrassed flush grow deeper. “No.”
“Great reunion,” Rick said, “but we need to haul ass.”
“You are not going anywhere!” Formente shouted, his control slipping as his expression became frantic. He was about to lose not only the honor of saying he caught the infamous Enrique Marcelo, but his tests subjects as well.
“Stop us,” Rick said with a low growl as he grabbed Dorian, pushed his mate behind him, and then dispatched justice on the two guards who had held the man down. It was quick and bloody, claws and teeth.
“Animals!” Formente shouted.
Freedman watched as Omar walked over to Formente and shifted. Okay, Freedman wasn’t expecting his smaller mate to turn into a jaguar, but whatever worked for the guy. Omar stood there, a stunned look in his eyes.
“But–But you are a werewolf,” Formente said, his eyes growing wide as he stared at Omar and then they glazed over with a calculating look. As if he wanted to take Omar back to the lab to find out what had happened.
As Omar attacked Formente, the other men that had come with Salvador attacked the guards. Freedman turned his head because it was a total bloodbath and grossing him out. He didn’t even say a word when Salvador joined them.
He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Salvador wouldn’t drink blood just because he mated a human and a changeling. The man was a vampire. Fact was fact. But that didn’t mean he had to watch the gory show.
“We need to see if there are any more changelings here,” Rick said as he began to walk, the rest of the group following. Freedman wasn’t sure if he should follow or wait on Salvador. He wanted to free the changelings as well.
But he didn’t have to stand there long. Salvador was on his feet and leading the way in under a minute. Freedman was tempted to ask if the man drained a body that quickly—like he had drained the soldier who was mind fucked and helped Omar escape—but he kept the question to himself.
There were just some things a man really didn’t need to know.
Freedman turned, which he wished he hadn’t, and saw that not one human had lived—not even Formente.
Rick’s group, along with the men who had accompanied Salvador, raced through the center, freeing twelve changelings in all. Freedman would have thought there would be more, but knew the answer in his gut.
No others had survived.
Freedman had known from the beginning when handed the assignment by O’Hanlon that something was off. If only he had known how truly horrible things were going to get. It still fucked with his head that Corrigan had turned traitor. If asked, Freedman would have said Corrigan would have never betrayed them and that the man was nothing but honorable and committed to this cause.
Now he knew how Rick felt when it came to backstabbing.
It hurt like a bitch.
But what had happened to Jordison? That was what Freedman really wanted to know.
The Rebellion group charged the labs, destroying the three rooms. There wasn’t a damn thing left to salvage when they were finished. This was the last remaining detention center and Freedman was going to make sure it went down in flames.
“Are you sure we got everyone?” Dorian asked as they stood in the destroyed room.
“Nate and Sasha found Selene in one of the cells, and then the three searched the rest of the cells. There is no one left,” Benito said. “I say it’s time we got the hell out of here.”
Freedman agreed. There was no telling what kind of backup might be on its way. They had lucked out so far—seeing how Salvador and his men had cleared their path for escape. No matter where they ran, the hallways were empty.
Salvador downright impressed him.
But he could also see his mate was growing weary. They needed to get out of here before Salvador was permanently harmed from all his parlor tricks.
Just as they were heading away from the labs, Salvador appeared at his side.
“Okay, I have to ask,” Freedman said. “Who are those men with you?”
Salvador gave him an amusing smile. “Jealous?”
Freedman narrowed his eyes. “What the hell do you think? Now tell me who they are.”
“They are my coven, meu destino.” Just as Salvador finished his sentence, the coven was behind him.
It was some creepy shit.
“Move out,” Rick shouted.
As the coven, Rebellion group, and hostages fled the building, the place began to explode. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but Freedman hauled ass as the night sky was lit up from the fire.
Chapter Sixteen
“How did it happen?” Captain O’Hanlon asked.
His secretary shook her head. “It was a hit and run. A full investigation has been launched, but I’ve been told there were no witnesses.”
“Keep me abreast. Vice Admiral Harrington was a damn good man. I want the one responsible for this caught.” O’Hanlon glanced back down at his desk, dismissing his secretary. The contents in the briefcase had been destroyed, along with the person he had hired to kill Harrington.
There was no way to link him to the death.
O’Hanlon looked up when she was still standing there. “Was there something else?”
Mary pursed her lips. “Yes. Did you hear about the last detention center?”
A migraine instantly seized O’Hanlon. “No.”
None of this would have started if Admiral James’s sister hadn’t mated and then converted to an animal. O’Hanlon was satisfied forgetting Enrique ever existed. But not only did Enrique’s mother have to track him down, Admiral James had to make it known how much he loathed the nonhumans.
That made O’Hanlon’s position threatened. If Admiral James ever found out who O’Hanlon’s bastard son was, the admiral would find a way to get rid of him. He did not work his entire life to get where he was to lose it all.
Enrique could not be allowed to live.
Admiral James—or any other person with political power—could not find out about O’Hanlon’s tie with Enrique.
“The Rebellion group must have had an entire army with them because the place is in ruins. Every human who was there has been confirmed dead, including the helicopter pilots.”
The place had been a virtual fortress. How in the hell had Enrique…O’Hanlon wiped his hand down his face. “Thank you, Mary.”
This time she left.
It seemed O’Hanlon was going to have to take care of Enrique Marcelo himself.
Kraven glanced up at the clock. He had twenty-four hours before the Mãos da Morte were no longer under his control.
This was unacceptable.
Kraven was not going down without a fight. He was well aware of who and what Salvador was, and the power the ancient muerto desde el útero possessed.
He just wasn’t sure how he was going to stop Salvador from collecting his debt. Kraven had been racking his brain trying to figure that out. The boogeymen would instantly leave him, and he was damn sure Salvador would have no problem hunting him down.
There had to be a way out of this.
A thought began to form in Kraven’s mind. Oh, it was a Machiavellian thought, but brilliant as hell. He wasn’t sure it would work, but there was only one way to find out.
Walking into his bedroom, Kraven closed the door tightly behind him. He turned, and let out a long, excited breath. “Darkest creatures of the night, come forth and show yourselves.”
One by one the Mãos da Morte began to appear.
Walking forward, Kraven reached for the strongest of the lot. The vampire was taller and broader than the rest, his features dark and strong. “Give me your arm.”
The vampire’s soulless eyes gazed down at Kraven, but didn’t move.
“I said to give me your arm.” Kraven reached over and grabbed the creature’s wrist, pulling it forward. Before the vampire could pull away, Kraven bit into the boogeyman’s vein, drinking its blood.
The room began to spin and his head became light, but Kraven didn’t release the limb until he was sure he had an ample supply to work with. His heart gave a hard thump, as if he had come back to life. But Kraven knew that to be untrue. It was just the blood coursing through his veins. The Mãos da Morte blood began to fuse with his, giving Kraven a heightened sense of ultimate power.
Why hadn’t he thought about this plan years ago?
Retracting his fangs, Kraven dismissed the vampires and walked outside. It was dark and the full moon hung overhead, illuminating the graveyard just outside the crypt. He wandered, looking for the oldest gravestone.
He found one marked 1795.
Perfect.
Kneeling, Kraven dug a hole over the grave, pushing the dirt aside. He bit into his flesh, holding the bleeding wrist over the six inch hole he had created, and then pushed the dirt back into place after a sufficient amount of blood spilled to the earth.
Kraven repeated this eleven more times around the graveyard, always the next oldest gravestone he could find. Once the last hole was covered, Kraven began a chant, tilting his head toward the dark skies above.
The wind picked up and the leaves began to blow around, but nothing happened when he finished his chant. It had been a long shot, and Kraven hadn’t been sure it would even work. But it seemed like he had failed.
Now he was going to have to serve Salvador for—Kraven’s head snapped to the first grave, watching as the dirt began to well up and then fall to the side.
A wide grin curved up the sides of his mouth.
Omar lay on the bed, wondering how long Freedman was going to be. His mate had gone downstairs to talk with Rick, and Omar was feeling a bit horny. Salvador was lying in the bed next to him.
Omar found he’d moved closer, the exotic scent of Salvador—thick honey and wildfire—seeping into Omar’s skin, curling around his senses. Salvador raised his hand to cup Omar’s cheek, to make him turn and look at him.
“I can smell your lust,” Salvador said as he curled to his side, propping his head on his hand. His obsidian eyes gazed at Omar, a hint of humor and a pound of lust in their depths. He could see Salvador’s desire in his eyes. Omar pushed from the bed, walking around the other side, and then dropped to his knees, pressing the palm of his hand over Salvador’s erection. He had never been one to initiate things when it came to sex, but Omar had been through enough, and besides, Salvador was his mate and they had already been together once already.
Salvador groaned as he stared down at Omar. The black in his eyes seemed to bleed into the whites, growing darker, hungrier. Salvador was watching him closely.
With a roll of his body, Salvador pulled Omar from the bed, both tumbling backward until Omar landed on top of the dark-haired man, his mate’s eyes blazing now with want and need. Salvador raised his hand to cup Omar’s cheek, to make the Omar turn and look at him.
Omar leaned forward, inhaling Salvador’s scent from collarbone to ear, taking in the raw aroma of man. The scent rushed back into Omar in a wave of intoxication. Smelling Salvador was hardening his cock. Omar loved the smell of man, was addicted to the flavor. It was a scent that made him instantly hard every time the aroma was near. And now that he was mated, Omar knew he was a goner.
His legs shifted as he straddled Salvador’s waist between his thighs. Omar wasn’t really sure what he should do now. He gazed down at the vampire.
“You smell edible.” Omar said the first thing to come to mind. Salvador grinned
as Omar leaned forward to nip the man on his jaw. When he smelled the vampire’s arousal heighten, Omar felt as though he held a small ball of bravery. “Simply edible,” he repeated with a bit more confidence. He could feel small pants of Salvador’s breath tickling his cheek. His mate’s breath was coming out raggedly, softly, though.
“Then eat me, meu destino,” Salvador replied. There was no humor in the request, only a raw need that swam over Omar like fur running down his naked flesh. He shuddered and then nipped Salvador on his bottom lip.
“I plan to.”
Salvador tugged at Omar’s cheek until their lips were only an inch apart, and then Omar moaned as his mate captured Omar’s lips. Omar’s body tightened involuntarily, every bone and muscle in him reaching for the vampire’s mouth, the hot draw of his lips, and the moist wash of his tongue.
Omar opened his eyes, seeing Salvador’s grimace of pleasure, the raw lust that transformed his handsome face. Omar hadn’t thought the man could get any better looking, but staring down at the man, he knew he had been wrong.
Salvador slid his hands under Omar’s shirt, smoothing his fingers over his back. Omar shivered at the contact. Salvador slid the shirt up as his hands lifted, pulling it up and over Omar’s head. He raised his arms and allowed Salvador to undress him, watching the man the entire time. Salvador tossed the shirt aside. It hit the floor soundlessly, and then Salvador ran his hands down Omar’s chest, his thumbs playing at his nipples.
A course of lust shot through Omar’s groin, making his dick throb with his heartbeat as Salvador’s fangs slowly slid down. Omar leaned forward, pushing against Salvador’s hands, forcing his way to Salvador’s throat as he nipped the man’s neck. Seeing the fangs should bother him. They really should. But all Omar could think about was his mate. Omar had feared that his second capture would lead to his death, and a lot of things had snapped in his mind.
One of those things being that he could have lost the chance to be with Salvador again. Omar wasn’t going to second-guess anything when it came to Salvador and Freedman. Being taken again had shown him that he could lose either man in the blink of an eye.