The wind made a funny keening sound in the fire escapes above as Jacken quietly directed the rest of the warriors around to the other end of the alley, where they’d take up various flanking positions around Parthen. Only Jacken, Dev, and Sedge would remain at this end, same as last night. Boots rang out on the asphalt as the men took off en masse, ammunition rattling, and flashbang grenades clanking softly together.
Flashbangs, or stun grenades, emitted a deafening explosion and a blinding white light upon detonation. The plan was to use the shocking pyrotechnics to create the necessary chaos and confusion among Parthen and his men in order to extract Marissa. At least that was the plan. Unfortunately, there were holes in it large enough to drive a truck through. First off, if they couldn’t get Marissa far enough away from Parthen, she’d get caught up in the explosion, and while flashbangs were designed to stun, not injure, who knew what kind of effect something so jarring would have on a pregnant woman? The second cold, hard truth was that if the warriors could’ve fought their way out of this, they already would have. Pretty much as long as Raymond could threaten to kill Marissa and Dev’s baby, then that assface had them over a barrel.
What alternative did they have, though, other than to fight? Ask a pregnant Toni to come topside for a sit-down with a father who kept abortifacients lying around like English fucking tea and who considered Jacken’s unborn child not much better than insect shit? Toni would’ve done it—if she could’ve gotten past Jacken—but, no. As much as Dev wanted Marissa back, he couldn’t even consider such a thing.
Headlights swept into the alley, and tension pounded through Dev, tangling his organs together. He would spend a week hand-washing a homeless man’s crusted-over skivvies, or whatever other community service work needed doing, if he could just get his wife out of this unharmed. Please…
Jacken, Sedge, and he stepped forward as the limo pulled to a stop. The passenger side door opened, expelling dick-smackers Murk and Videon, both armed with AKs. Then the back door swung wide, and out came Douchebag-Hall-of-Famer, Raymond Parthen. He dragged Marissa out with him, another fucking syringe stabbed into her arm, but this time, a gunny sack had also been pulled over her head.
Dev clamped his jaw so hard he ran the risk of eating his own teeth. What the hell was that about? Was this just Parthen’s fun way of making things more frightening for Marissa or had she been beaten? His nostrils flared into tight ridges. He could smell his wife’s terror, and—“Shit,” he hissed. “Parthen has done something to her. Her scent is different.” What drugs had he mainlined into her? Glaring at the hypodermic needle, Dev sucked in a couple of hot, quick breaths between his teeth. Was their baby all right? An insidious dread twisted through his bowels. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this afraid.
“Good evening, chaps,” Parthen said. “All of you,” he added in that knowing smug way that set Dev’s teeth on edge. “Where is my beloved Toni?”
Jacken gestured behind a building. “She’s back here,” he lied.
“And Alex?”
“He’ll have to come by next time.”
A little bit of lying, a little bit of truth-telling: Jacken had to play a shrewd chess match with the elegant Mr. Douche-Bucket.
“That wasn’t the arrangement,” Parthen returned.
“Couldn’t be avoided.”
Parthen paused. “Bring Toni forth.”
“Send our woman down first.”
Parthen sniffed. “Your men in hiding will surely think that gives them license to shoot at my lads.”
Jacken shrugged. “We can stand here all night.”
“I will happily do so,” Parthen countered, “rather than be made a fool. Have Toni step into the open, and I might consider releasing your woman.”
Jacken laughed darkly. “So you can use your powers on her? I’m not stupid, either, Parthen. Any discussion you have with Toni will be in my presence, and only after you’ve released our woman.”
Parthen’s lips pulled back into something only a generous person would’ve called a smile. “I do believe you’ve forgotten who has the true negotiating power here, Vârcolac.” He pulled Marissa closer to his side. “It would be regretful if your bullheadedness forced me to use this abortifacient. Such theatrics are ever distasteful.”
A long, low growl rumbled out of Dev. Here was that thorny crux he was half out of his mind about.
Jacken paused. On an underbreath to Dev, he said, “We’re going to have to do this.”
Dev locked rigid. He didn’t see another choice, either, but…something about this…
“All right,” Jacken told Parthen. “I’ll let you see Toni.” Jacken leaned toward the back of the building. “Toni—” he called out, and a second later two flashbang grenades arced through the air.
Dev followed their path, breathing heavily, a cold, nasty sensation wrapping around the back of his neck, like someone was holding a palmful of icy slime there. This isn’t right.
He leapt into a run.
The flashbangs landed near the limo, and Dev threw an arm over his face as—wa-boom!—they detonated with an ear-shattering explosion and filled the alley with white lightning. He was thrown onto his back and sent skidding for several feet, vaguely thanking fuck for his thick trench coat. Before he’d even come to a stop, he was back on his feet and racing for Marissa.
She was face-down on the ground!
The rear end of the limo had been knocked helter-skelter; Videon was painting the hood and Murk was just finishing up banging his head against the wheel well, his eyeballs doing loop de loops.
Parthen stood like a god rising out of the smoke, unmoved from his original spot, his face a mask of icy rage. Bullets zinged out from the warriors in hiding. Parthen tossed the hypodermic needle aside with a flick of his wrist, said something to Videon, then got back in his limousine.
Videon jumped off the hood with a snarl and aimed his AK-47 assault rifle at Marissa.
“No!” Dev bellowed. He increased his speed beyond normal endurance, but… Too far. He panted, desperate, panicked. He wouldn’t be able to reach her in time… Horror slid the world out of focus as a grey puff spouted from the AK’s muzzle, a report rang out, then a jet of blood leapt from of the back of Marissa’s head.
“NO!” Dev’s heart ripped out of his chest. His boots smoked as he skidded up to his wife, his breath wheezing out of him. He fell down onto his knees beside her, his entire body numb. Flashbang remnants burned his eyes and the scent of blood over-saturated his senses. He wrenched the hood off his wife, saw blank eyes through the tangle of her hair, and let loose an anguished yell. “Marissa!” He clasped her lifeless body to his chest, his throat pumping hard with a flooding onrush of tears. No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. The limo’s receding tires kicked debris into his face.
Jacken ran up to him. “Dev…” His strong hand landed on his shoulder. “Let go of her, man.”
“Get your hands off me,” Dev snarled, a wild savagery building in his chest. “You’re not taking her. I’ll fucking kill you if you try.”
Jacken removed his hand, but his voice grew firmer. “Listen to me, Nichita, dammit. That’s not Marissa.”
He shook and shuddered. What—?
“If your mate was dead, your radar would have you flat on your back right now. Look at her,” Jacken barked.
Slowly, shakily, he lowered Marissa to the street. He smoothed bloody hair off her face, and—the bullet had exited through her right eyeball, but still…he could tell… He hugged his own chest and fell back on his heels. All-encompassing relief stole his strength.
It. Wasn’t. Her.
The warriors gathered around.
“Nichita…Christ, that scared the crap out of me.”
“Can you believe that asshole killed this poor woman?”
“Who is she?”
“Dev, brother, you okay?”
Dev looked up into Thomal’s face. “Yeah, I…” He placed a hand over his chest. Not even a ping. “Marissa is okay.
Completely okay.” He shifted his gaze and frowned at the dead woman. “Fucking Parthen murdered an innocent just to up the stakes with us.”
“It’s a damned clear message,” Jacken agreed grimly.
This war was only going to get worse.
Dev dragged a hand through his hair. “Where the hell is my wife?”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jacken said. “We’ll head someplace safe, then develop a plan for finding her.”
Thomal helped Dev to his feet, and he staggered on the way up. If it wasn’t for the oil-drum-load of adrenaline still pouring through his system, he probably would’ve collapsed, performed a groan-and-yack number, then finale’d by going unconscious. The long hours of stress had his blood-need on a steep climb, and it wouldn’t be leveling out until he could confirm with his own eyes that his wife and unborn child were all right.
Jacken’s cell beeped. He glanced at the screen, then looked up at Dev, exhaling a breath. “It’s a message from Cleeve. Marissa has called for a transport. She’s at the downtown rendezvous point.”
Dev’s head fell back on his neck, gifting his eyes with a view of the stars. “Now that’s some news I can stand to hear.”
Their group raced for their cars.
“Damn,” Thomal said behind him. “How do you figure she got loose?”
* * *
Earlier…
Pandra scanned the shelves of books in her father’s library. Charles Dickens, Charlotte Brontë, James Joyce…
She didn’t really fancy any of them. She was just biding her time. Waiting.
John Keats, Rudyard Kipling, Chaucer… She turned toward the bookcase across the—
He was standing in the library doorway.
She froze, but didn’t flinch. Didn’t swallow, either, even though her throat had suddenly turned to chalk. She supposed she ought to be proud of that.
“You released my hostage,” her father informed her. “An extremely important prisoner to me, Pandra.”
“I did,” she admitted in an even tone.
Apparently, he didn’t care overly much for the lack of remorse in her response. A barb of electricity lanced off him and shot spears under her skin, like a thousand clawing cockroaches, eating her from the inside out. Against her best efforts, her stomach sagged with fear. Her status as his favorite bedamned, Raymond’s punishment was going to be a bastarding kick in the arse.
“Explain your behavior,” Raymond demanded.
She balanced out the weight on her feet. She’d rather not, thank you. His understanding of her motivations wouldn’t lessen the degree of his castigation. But then…further defiance on her part would surely worsen it. “You let Videon torture a woman to death, Raymond. I didn’t hack into the girl’s delivery schedule for that, and I sure as bloody hell wasn’t going to let another woman get killed.” Although, in honesty, she was more taking a stand for herself than acting out of remorse for a couple of strangers. She’d reached the top limit of Raymond’s terror, damned sick of all the times she had to rush to do his bidding, and sicker still of standing at attention in his almighty sun room when anything wasn’t done to his exacting specifications. What had finally pushed her over the edge? Her computer skills had been used to take a life—she herself had been used. This was the first time Raymond had exploited her so directly, and even though it was true she’d been bred to be used, that had never sat well with her.
“I thought you had more spine than that, my pet.” Disappointment lay heavy in Raymond’s tone.
Admittedly, that stung. She hesitated only a heartbeat, then slipped off her immortality ring and set it on the library desk. “I have spine enough.”
Raymond glanced at the ring, then his cold, blue eyes assessed the length of her body, not as a father to a daughter, but as an enemy to an adversary.
Her lungs buckled inward as if she’d taken a hard belt to the chest.
“I have to busy myself with finding a decoy woman now. But…” Raymond sauntered toward her, the tap of his Gucci loafers across the marble floor managing to sound both elegant and lethal. “I daresay I can spare the time it takes to break that plucky spirit of yours.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Two and a half weeks later: Community of Ţărână, November 28th, Thanksgiving, 4:15 p.m.
Half-clothed and panting, Marissa rocked her hips steadily back and forth on top of Dev’s lap, her legs straddling his muscled thighs, the two of them pressed together in the large, brown leather easy chair in their living room. She hadn’t been able to stop herself; as soon as they’d left the party, Marissa had started messing around with Dev, touching and kissing him, and by the time they’d reached home, they’d been too excited to make it upstairs.
They’d just returned from Thanksgiving at the Bruns’ house, surrounded by friends and family, which Marissa had really needed. With the holidays fast approaching, she was feeling a little bereft of family. This would be her first Christmas without her mom, plus Natalie still wasn’t in her life—there was just too much wreckage on the road between the sisters for Marissa to have figured a way around it, yet—and on top of that, Dev was estranged from his mother.
But this afternoon’s get-together had confirmed that she did have family. Toni was now Marissa’s…well, her something-or-other, now that Toni’s brother, Alex, was married to Marissa’s sister-in-law, Luvera. How many dates had those two lovebirds gone on after Luvera had spent a weekend in jail for fraternizing with a male Vârcolac? All of three? Alex now sported a beautiful blue-and-red dragon tattoo on his back, with an eye, the enchantment designator of a Soothsayer, sitting just off his dragon’s nose.
Jacken’s brother, Nyko, had also been at Thanksgiving. But not Shon. In a shocking decision, the court had temporarily banished the youngest Brun from the community as punishment for his crimes, sending him to live topside in Toni’s former house, now equipped with metal shutters. Shon would work night shifts stocking shelves at a grocery store and go to twice-weekly therapy sessions with Karrell, the community therapist: a Vârcolac married to a regular who’d been living topside for some years now.
In other drama, Homicidal Maniac Josnic still hovered as a threat, but the Topside Om Rău had been thwarted in their plans to breach the community. As it turned out, Candace hadn’t given up any information about their entrances, despite what she must’ve gone through. A plaque to honor her sacrifice had been mounted in the grand entrance hall of the mansion. No Traveler went topside without a guard these days, but since most of the business they conducted had to be done during the daytime, a warrior escort wasn’t a long-term solution.
Kimberly was still working topside, even though she was now a known associate of the Vârcolac. She’d moved to a different office and had hired a full-time bodyguard. And, no, a human male was no match for a demon Om Rău, but a guard would provide an extra set of eyes and a cell phone to call for help, and, anyway, it would just have to do. Sedge wasn’t about to allow anyone to stop his wife from doing the work she absolutely adored.
As for Marissa? She wasn’t going anywhere for awhile. She wouldn’t even think of asking Dev to let her out of his sights after the debilitating scare he’d had, and, frankly, that was no skin off her nose. She was ready to settle down and be at peace, done chasing after some remodeled version of Marissa. If she truly believed in herself, well, then, she’d better get going with that. She wasn’t naïve enough to ignore the reality that she’d still struggle with self-doubt on occasion, but right now she was happy and satisfied.
Being constantly surrounded by people who loved her really helped.
Ah, yes, Marissa’s best gal pals had been at the Brun party, too. Toni-Marissa-Beth were the Three Musketeers these days, Kimberly was the Fourth when she was around, plus Hadley was a regular buddy. All four women had been at the party, having a hoot together. Beth had her new baby with her, a boy named Garez who’d been born during the full shutdown without a hitch. T
he baby’s father, Arc, hadn’t been present, though, or Thomal.
The Costache brothers had gone topside on a routine mission to investigate another Topside Om Rău kidnapping, and they hadn’t made it back in time for the Thanksgiving feast. No incoming messages suggested why they were late, but no one was too worried about it. The community’s communication system was still a little glitchy since the shutdown, and the two warriors still had several hours until sunrise.
So now, with worries behind them and the day’s festivities over, Marissa and her ultra-hot hubby were topping things off with some great, calorie-burning sex.
Groaning, Marissa pumped up and down on top of Dev faster. He was so big inside her, so hot and impossibly solid.
Dev buried his fangs into her throat erotically deep, and she moaned louder against the hard, hungry draw of his mouth. He surged his hips upward, the friction of his long, thick member building an inferno of desire low in her belly. Her spine melted as the first pleasurable flood of Dev’s Fiinţă turned into a deluge of ecstasy. Her head swirled, and the living room sparkled brilliantly around her, every color glowing. A strained plea for more broke from her lips, and she drove her hips up and down frantically on Dev’s—
He grabbed her waist and stopped her, yanking his fangs out of her throat. “Hey, hey, hey,” he protested breathlessly. “Doc says we gotta be careful of your cervix while you’re pregnant, Riss.” With his hands on her hips, he slid her off his erection.
“Wait,” she panted. “I’ll be careful. Don’t stop.”
He tipped her carefully down onto the carpet.
“No, Dev, come on…”
“Simmer down now.” He landed on his hands and knees over her, looking vaguely like the Human Torch from The Fantastic Four, his shoulders and chest stained with streaks of red that were, apparently, the result of some practical joke he refused to tell her about.
The Community Series, Books 1-3 Page 65