Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

by Laurie D'Ghent

  She clapped a hand over the hot, pulsing skin. “What the heck?!?!?” she yelled at him. “Fetch, Evan!” She pulled her hand away and looked at it, as though checking for blood. “What's your problem?!?”

  “Never touch me again,” he said slowly, pointing at her for emphasis. His voice was low, with something of a growl hidden in the darker tones. He walked to the open dresser and pulled the last of her clothes from the drawer, shoving it shut again with one knee. She moved hastily out of his way as he returned to the suitcase.

  Not eager to anger him further, but not willing to let him have the last word, she said, “You gonna at least tell me what the fetch is going on?” She tried to sound belligerent, even as she made sure she wasn't within his arm span.

  “Change out of that ridiculous dress,” he ordered, thrusting a set of random clothes in her direction. “We leave in five minutes.”

  Є

  Integrity's heart was thumping, keeping time with the growing headache at her temples. What the fetch is his problem? she wondered. Was last night really a dream?i

  Her uncertainty dissolved as she spied the large bruise on her hip, exactly where she'd “dreamed” Evan had thrown her into the wall. She looked at her face in the mirror, saw how red it was, and snorted at her own naiveté—it had been no dream, but, true to his form, Evan was right back to being his jerk of a self. She kicked her way out of the voluminous skirt, caught sight of a smear of blood on her forearm, and began scrubbing it off roughly. She only grew more rough when she saw the five circular bruises, right where Evan's fingers had clutched her before he'd thrown her against the wall. “Fetching jerk,” she mumbled under her breath. “Should've just let him kill himself.”

  She put on the clothes Evan had given her, twisted the stiffness from her neck, then exited the bathroom. The suitcase, and Evan, were gone. Good, maybe he left without me. He can go back and lead the freaking resistance for all I care. She took the time to straighten her hair and clothes, then grew antsy and opened the hotel room door. She could see Evan standing near the car, taking out his cheap cell phone. A snarky grin spreading across her face, she walked easily down the stairs. Let's see how much he likes me interrupting his call, she thought. After all, I'm just trying to be the dutiful little slave. Can't keep the precious little snot waiting.

  As she drew nearer, Integrity could hear that Evan's voice was calm and emotionless. Catching sight of Integrity, he said, “Look, just talk to the counsel. I can't keep her anymore.” He turned the phone off and dropped it in his pocket. “Let's go,” he said, using the same voice on her. He slid into the driver's seat without waiting for her. Integrity walked around the car and crawled into her seat, wishing that she could get away with running out to the street and hopping in someone's car; somehow, she didn't think that genius plan would last long.

  Evan reversed, too fast, before she had her seat belt on, and she had to brace herself against the dashboard to keep from cracking her head on it. Unaffected, he jammed the car into gear and the tires almost squealed as he pulled from the space. He blew straight past the lobby without pausing. “Hey!” Integrity protested, looking over her shoulder back at the hotel. “You've gotta pay, you know!”

  “I don't have to do anything,” Evan countered, his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle had bunched up along his jaw. He cut somebody off as he merged into traffic.

  Shortly they were on an interstate, heading east. Integrity noticed that Evan was speeding, but not enough to risk being pulled over. I oughta turn on the radio, but he'd probably just slap me again, she grumped.

  After a time, Evan's phone rang and he dug it from his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID before pushing a button and holding it to his ear. “Yeah?”

  He listened for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I think I know the place. Nevada, right?” He listened for a while, grunting occasionally.

  Integrity was losing interest in the conversation until she heard him swear. Staring out the window, she listened intently. “Why didn't you talk to them?” Integrity assumed he meant the council, and wondered who he was talking to. I assumed he'd called Paul, but Paul wouldn't disobey orders. She stared at the rubber that rested against the base of the power window. “Dang it, how do you know it's secure?” Evan tried to interject a few times, obviously getting cut off, before he lost it and said, loudly, “Jydda!”

  Integrity was on full alert. Jydda? Why in the world would she have his number? She swallowed, hard. And what possible good could come from this? She's gotta be the head of the resistance—we've never exactly been “buddy-buddy.”

  Jydda must have gone off again, because Evan said, “Fine—fine. I'll be there in eight, ten hours.” He listened for a moment then said, “I know, I know, I got it.” Before Jydda could go off again, he ended the call. He tossed the cell onto the dashboard in a rare display of pique.

  “So, where are we going?” Integrity was careful to keep her tone conversational, with just a hint of bite.

  “Don't worry about it,” Evan said, not looking at her. He sped up incrementally. “All that matters is that you'll be safer there.”

  Safer? What do I need to be protected from? She shrunk into her seat, staring out the window once more.

  Є

  Evan grew increasingly restless as the ride continued. He refused to check the passenger side mirror, and this made Integrity just as uncomfortable as if he had been glancing at her constantly. He refused to speak, and she didn't want to put forth the effort to start a conversation. She spent her time dissecting the previous night.

  Why had she reacted like she had? Why hadn't she just let Evan leave when he first wanted to? Why did she keep inserting herself between him and the door, even after he became physically violent? Integrity rubbed one hand at the furrow that had formed between her eyebrows, unable to come up with a clear cut answer. Chalk it up to being three-quarters asleep and move on.

  Even when her stomach began to grumble, Evan did not stop for food. Integrity thought it might have been because there were few businesses, and those far between, but as he blew past one, then another, then another opportunity, she changed her mind; he didn't want to stop, and he wasn't going to. For whatever reason.

  Integrity had been watching the clock on the dash and knew that they would be arriving at their destination anytime within the next ninety minutes. She was taken aback when Evan slid to a stop in the gravel parking lot of a minuscule gas station. Is this it? she wondered, looking around for Jydda.

  Without looking at her, Evan ground out, “You have two minutes.” Only when his gaze remained fixed on the windshield before him did Integrity realize he didn't intend to get out of the car. When she didn't exit, either, Evan dug his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbed a wad of cash, and thrust is at her, still not looking in her direction. Integrity took it before he changed his mind, wondered if her two minutes had already started, and hurried out of the car. The sun was sinking slowly toward the horizon, and she was starving.

  Once in the station, Integrity made a quick pit stop, then glanced out one of the windows, between fliers. Evan's car was still idling at the edge of the parking lot, but she didn't know how much longer he'd wait. Not sure about much, but sure she didn't want to end up stuck in the middle of nowhere with a gas station attendant that was giving her such a creepy smile, she grabbed a bag of chips off the nearest shelf and hurried to the cash register to pay.

  “That'll be $1.12,” the cashier said. Trying not to look at him, she fumbled with the bills Evan had given her. 100, 100, 100, 50, 100... She flipped through the last few bills, seeing more of the same.

  “Uh, all I have is a $50,” she said, flushing.

  The smarmy guy tapped a dirty fingernail against a curling Post-It. “No bills over $20,” he said, with an annoying hyuck-hyuck laugh.

  Integrity glanced nervously out the window. The car was still there, but she couldn't see through its darkly tinted windows. Is he getting ready to pull out? Panicking, not knowing what
else to do, she thrust a bill at the cashier, not looking to see how much it was. “Just keep the change.” She kept her gaze on the black car.

  “Well, now,” the cashier drawled, “I might be persuaded to let the chips go for a kiss.” For some reason, she pictured him nudging up the bill of a stained ball cap, though she knew he wasn't one.

  She laughed weakly, grabbed her chips, and headed for the door. “Thanks,” she called distractedly, half expecting the car to flee, spewing rocks at her. The one place worse than being with Evan, and he finds it, she thought with an inner shudder, glancing back at the gas station. The attendant was watching her through the door, propped ajar with a rock. I can just about imagine how helpful Mr. Creepy would be if I got stranded.

  “Hey, I can't take a fifty!” the man called after her, but she ignored him and half jogged across the lot to the car. She slid into her seat, clutching the bag of chips almost compulsively, feeling like she needed an acid bath.

  “Here's your change,” she muttered, holding the cash out toward Evan, feeling like a fool for calling more money than she had ever held before “change.” Evan's grip tightened on the steering wheel, but he made no other movement. “I got chips,” she announced, hopefully.

  Evan relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, leaned back slightly into his seat, and took the money without looking at her. He crammed it carelessly in the center console, put the car into gear, and pulled away. Integrity hurried to fasten her seat belt.

  Only a few miles from the gas station, Evan pulled off the highway onto a slender, dirt road that wound it's way between two low, sagebrush covered hills. Integrity froze with a chip halfway to her mouth. Evan rolled to a smooth, slow stop, and slid the car into park. He turned the engine off, and the sudden silence wrapped around them.

  In front of the car loomed a massive, rusting warehouse. There were half a dozen vehicles of varying makes and models parked helter-skelter near a metal door. A bare light bulb was mounted over it.

  Evan seemed to think for a moment, glancing over the cars, then grunted, “Come on.” He swung out of the car and slammed his door loudly. Integrity didn't want to go into the building, but didn't want to wait alone in the car for the crazies to come eat her face, either.

  “Better the evil you know than the evil you don't,” she sighed as she popped her door and levered herself out of the car. She gave a parting glance to her half-eaten bag of chips, wishing she hadn't been so self conscious about the crunching. She moved to the front of the car where Evan waited. You shouldn't have sucked on each chip until it was soggy. Bad manners and a full stomach are much preferable to this, she chided herself as they moved toward the heavy, solid door. Integrity heard a faint, rhythmic sound emanating from deep inside the building as Evan raised his hand, grasped the knob, and opened the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The hallway was dark and narrow, the ceiling high. Integrity could hear the steady beat growing louder as they walked down the corridor, the occasional musical note breaking through. The music's pace was frenetic, almost panicked. Evan moved forward steadily, though Integrity sensed he was uncomfortable.

  Still a fair distance from the bare light bulb at the intersection of the hallway, Integrity began piecing together the tune. Surprisingly happy, it reminded her of a circus. She felt nervous. Why in the world was circus music playing in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere? A building filled with the undead? Are they all going to be wielding chainsaws when we turn the corner? she wondered, only half joking.

  They drew beneath the light, dim even in its illumination, and Evan hesitated, looking left, then right. It was obvious the music was coming from the left, but he seemed to want to go right. Is he running from something or to something? Integrity thought, shrinking back into the hallway they had just traversed. She thought Evan might tell her to wait where she was, but he waved for her to follow him. He set off to their left.

  Down another long passage, the hallway angled to the right and left once more. Integrity sensed, more than heard, that a group of people was gathered just out of sight. Evan's steps slowed. He glanced at her, then pressed on once more, subtly shifting in front of her. At the junction, he stopped abruptly, and Integrity almost bounced into him. He held his hand behind his back, palm out, as though telling her to wait. She had no qualms about remaining hidden and silent. She glanced nervously down the hallway from where they'd come, feeling eyes watching her.

  Evan leaned one shoulder against the corner, putting himself at a right angle to Integrity. He called out to someone, and Integrity shrank back a step or two, eager not to be spotted, but not willing to get too distant from the one known factor in the equation. The circus music was uncomfortably loud, forcing those nearby to either shout or stand very near to one another to be heard.

  Integrity strained her ears, trying to understand what Evan and the mystery person were saying, but their words were garbled by the brass horns blaring away. Integrity thought she saw Evan's back stiffen, but she couldn't be sure. She felt like all of her senses were on overload, trying to cope with the situation. The person Evan was talking to spoke louder, and Integrity drew nearer, trying to pick up even a few words. She was aching to know what was going on. What in the world does my safety and too loud circus music have to do with each other? And of all the music to listen to, why this crap? Even polka would be better.

  Integrity heard the other person exclaim something about “the council,” and she drew a step nearer. She knew that voice. Where had she heard it before?

  Unfortunately, in her eagerness to appease her curiosity, Integrity exposed herself to Evan's companion. With a cry of triumph, Lady Jydda brushed roughly past Evan and grabbed Integrity by her upper arm. The woman's grip bit into her flesh with so much power that it felt as though a knife were slicing into her muscle. Integrity winced.

  Attention focused once more on Evan, Jydda chided flirtatiously, “I knew you'd bring her along.”

  Before she could continue, Evan cut her off. “This is not what we agreed to, Jydda.” Glancing between the pair of them, now (uncomfortably) in the middle, Integrity could see the steel in his gaze. She shrunk backwards, pressing her spine into the cold corner, not wanting to be near either of them.

  Without looking at her, Jydda tightened her grip on Integrity's arm; the girl flinched again. Laughing lightly, though there was a distinct coldness behind it, Jydda cooed, “Evan, you know that the council knows best.”

  “You were to tell no one.” Evan had taken a step nearer Jydda, lowering his voice as much as he could. Jydda seemed pleased. She drew yet nearer, shutting Integrity out without ever letting go of her arm.

  “I could hardly block them from knowing her whereabouts.” Jydda flashed a look of derision at Integrity, making her feel like something unpleasant smeared on the woman's thousand dollar shoes. “They were not pleased when she disappeared.”

  “No, I'm sure they would have much preferred for her to be torn limb from limb by that mob,” Evan rejoined.

  Jydda shrugged lightly. “It would have been of no consequence.” Integrity felt a heavy chill settle in her stomach. “All you managed to accomplish was to implicate yourself in her downfall.” Jydda cocked her head to one side, looking at him in mild disappointment. “I thought you knew better than to do something so foolish.”

  Evan started to retort when he was cut off. Standing directly across from Integrity, his mere presence enough to force Evan and Jydda apart, stood the King of Westmarch. Pristinely calm, he smiled easily at the assembled group, impervious to their roiling emotions. “Ah, Evan, you've brought the guest of honor. How splendid.” Though he seemed completely at his ease, a sharp blade hovered in his words. Extending one arm to Integrity, forcing Jydda to release her, he asked the girl, “Shall we?”

  With a nervous glance at Evan, which was unreturned, Integrity snaked her hand through the monarch's elbow and allowed herself to be led away. She glanced back, hoping to see Evan following close be
hind, only to have her hopes dashed—he was back in heated conversation with Lady Jydda, very little space separating their lips. An image of Evan smeared with the blood of the woman from the restaurant, the one he had been just as close to, flashed before her eyes. Integrity turned her gaze forward.

  “I'm afraid we were forced to start the party without you, my dear,” the king said conversationally, patting Integrity's hand with his free one, his flesh uncommonly cool. Though he looked no older than Evan, he spoke with such quiet wisdom, Integrity felt as though he could have been her grandfather. She was still struggling to assimilate feeling as though someone who looked no older than 25 could be seventy or more. The king smiled at her reassuringly. “One can only expect to have the program go ahead without them if they are so drastically late.” Turning his attention to the crowd before him, Integrity glanced at them momentarily before returning her gaze to his face, not wanting to miss a word in the increasing cacophony. “You've missed three contestants already, but I'm sure you'll do fine anyway.” Another condescending, though friendly, pat. Integrity shrank away, but the king seemed not to have noticed. Somehow, she didn't think she was fortunate enough for appearances to be reality. They never are here.

  The king seemed to be done speaking, and they were drawing to a gradual stop as they neared the group of people, hovering together in distracted conversation. They were all staring through a plate glass window into a room, from which the music seemed to be emanating. Integrity turned her attention to the group before her. She worried about what so held their attention.

  She could tell, instantly, that not all of the gathered spectators were vampires. Off to one side, in a dim corner, corralled by two men extremely reminiscent of Paul and Bowman, stood three girls, who looked completely terrified. One stared forward mechanically, seemingly forced from reality by whatever horrors she had been exposed to. The other two were huddling near the ground, and each other, but they were not touching. They didn't seem to be aware of the other's presence, their world focused to the air immediately around them. One was rocking back and forth, the other visibly shaking. Made even more unsteady by the panorama they presented, Integrity turned her attention to those peering eagerly through the window.