by T. A. Grey
“I didn’t know that. No one’s mentioned it before.” Great, now she was furiously blushing and the last thing she wanted was for Grayson Blackmoore to know he affected her.
“You looked—” he paused as if searching for the right word.
“How did I look?” she asked again. He wouldn’t get off the hook for this. Now she had to know.
His eyes alit with a thought. “You looked like you were about to faint. Very pale, drawn looking. I was going to catch you if you fell.”
Her jaw dropped and then she spun around to pace, brows dipped low in thought. “Like I was going to faint? That’s funny. I never feel like I’m about to faint. Don’t you think I would?” It bothered her more than she cared to admit. But who would want to look pale and weakly when using their one so-called ‘incredible ability’? Certainly not her. That ability was the only thing she had that made her special. It was all she had.
He gave an indolent shrug.
She glared, not liking his attitude one bit. “I think I saw a casino. There were Weres and vampires intermixed with some humans.”
“You know where to find it then?” He moved away from her, since she wasn’t in any danger of ‘fainting’ now.
“No.”
He spun around, his fangs distending with such anger she threw her hands up in pure instinct. “How can you not know where it is?” he snapped.
“Because that’s not how it works,” she snapped right back. Sissy told her to go easy on him, he did just lose a precious loved one. But dang, it was so hard. All she wanted to do was march right over to him and slap that sleek, stubble-covered jaw with a good whack.
His voice exuded forced patience. “How, pray tell, does it work? You’ve explained yourself on several occasions and each time the story changes. Everything rests on you, do you understand that?” He started coming closer. A spike of fear shot down her spine. “If you cannot find them then my bruid’s murderers will go on living. I cannot allow this. I need to find them.” His fangs had fully dropped now. If the harshness in his tone or aggressive steps weren’t any indication of how angry he was, his fangs were. A vampire as old as Grayson easily had power to control his fangs, but everyone had a breaking point. He was at his. How else could you explain the reason his fangs were flashing now—except out of surprised anger.
“Um, Grayson?” she asked, swallowing over the lump in her throat.
He’d stopped moving toward her but only after there was no more space left between them. If she but leaned forward her nipples would graze his chest.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” he prompted.
Aargh! His attitude set her edge but not in the way it should. She shouldn’t be looking at this vampire’s lips. He’d just laid his bruid on the pyre; how it must have crushed him to bring the torch down upon her body. Her heart cried for him. Even now she blinked quickly to keep from tearing up. Yet, with each arrogant, mean thing he said, she only wanted to reach up and plant a big, wet kiss on him.
You are in such trouble, girl, she told herself.
Isn’t it great? enthused the naughty part of her.
What was she supposed to do? Oh, right, explain her ‘ability’.
“It’s complicated,” she began. “It’s hard to explain because it’s a bunch of images and feelings inside me. It’s like you’re asking me to explain gut-instincts. My gift works much like a hunch. That’s all it is but it’s so much more at the same time. Now that I have a feel and idea of what I’m looking for I can go track. What I really think we should be talking about right now though isn’t my ability.”
“It’s your fangs.”
He leaned down, his lips parting to make room for his fangs. “What about my fangs, Were?”
She stared at the pristine white points. “When’s the last time you fed?” It came out as a whisper yet sounded loud as a scream.
Immediately something triggered inside him. His gaze fell to her neck, lingering. He didn’t have to say anything—she read it in the hunger of his gaze—he hadn’t eaten in too long.
Ara stomped her foot, for the first time truly growing mad. “Are you stupid or something?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why on earth didn’t you feed before coming here? Do you think I want my vein used as an emergency snack if something bad happens? No, thank you. I enjoy my blood inside my body where it belongs,” Arabella said, shaking her head in a fit.
“It’s none of your concern,” he said.
“None of my concern? None of my concern?” she repeated even louder. “How is it none of my concern? When I’m the only blood supply around you and you go flashing your fangs around, I get concerned.”
He sneered, looking like he wanted to say more. But then an explosion boomed around them. So fast he was there, wrapping his arms around her to protect her as he dropped them to the floor, his body covering hers. The floor shook. And noise, so much noise around them. It sounded like the whole graveyard just caved in on them. Dust from the ceiling rained on them in gray specs. When the floor stopped shaking a sickening quiet settled over them.
They were touching. His weight pressed upon her body like that of a lover, his face buried in her hair.
“Gray?”
And with a graceful move, he stood. One moment touching her, the next, far away. He didn’t look at her as she stood without his help. Something had happened—aside from the explosion. “Don’t call me that,” was all he said.
She didn’t pressure him about his name figuring he had a reason. “What happened?”
He never had time to answer because suddenly a man leapt at them from the dusty, dark antechamber. She never had to be frightened though, because Grayson reacted as if he’d known the whole time the man lurked in the shadows. Grayson moved so fast her Were eyes struggled to keep up with the movement. Fact is, he was really fast. He pulled two silver blades from the inside of his jacket then whipped the blades out of his hands with a flick of his wrists. In mid-air the blades stabbed the man in the neck. He let out a gargled cry as he fell to the floor, legs kicking. Grayson palmed another blade, this one longer as he strode to the whimpering man. No, not man, she realized as she caught scent of his blood. He was Were too.
“Who are you?” Grayson asked.
For some reason this startled Arabella. She’d never once thought that this man might have something nefarious in mind. Even after the explosion. Maybe Grayson had been in these kinds of deadly situations before but she hadn’t and didn’t go around assuming everyone was out to kill her.
The man grimaced through the pain, hands clutching uselessly against the blood gushing from his neck wounds. He’d bleed out enough to go unconscious, but he could live from the wounds.
“I won’t ask again.” Grayson looked terrifying poised with a knife above the bloodied man. If anyone were to walk in on this scene they’d assume Grayson was the monster.
The man laughed. Or as much as he could with the wounds. It was the last sound he’d make. Grayson grabbed him by the hair then stabbed him through the neck, viciously jerking the blade. Snap. His neck severed. The laughter stopped. Grayson released his hold and the man collapsed dead.
“What did you do!” Arabella exclaimed, nearly screaming in hysteria. “You just killed a man!”
“He was going to kill us. I doubt he’s the only one. You need to be ready,” Grayson said, wiping the bloody blade on the man’s shirt before pocketing it. How was he so unaffected? Even his voice sounded calm.
“How am I supposed to get ready? I don’t know how to fight!” Oh no. This was the exact kind of situation Sissy had warned her about.
Grayson buried his head in his hands. “First you can’t shift. Then you can’t track without coming all the way out to this god forsaken place I swore I’d never return to,” his voice grew louder as he spoke. “And now you’re telling me you don’t even know how to protect yourself?”
“I’ve never been in this kind of danger before! I’m usually finding lost thi
ngs around the pack or lost loved ones. And they certainly aren’t trying to kill me when I track them down. And you knew I couldn’t shift so how did you expect me to know how to fight? That’s your problem, not mine.” She was panting and so was he when she finished her tirade.
With one final glare, she spun and left the room only to march straight into the arms of another Were. The man, clothed in black just like the other one, also had a strange stamp on his neck. The Donato seal. He was one of them. The thought had no sooner crossed her mind before the man grabbed her around the neck and pulled her close. He pressed a silver blade to her neck as he and Grayson faced off. Fear rooted her in place. Why had she let her emotions get the best of her? If she hadn’t stormed out of the room then this wouldn’t have happened. The last thing she wanted to do was make herself look like a feminine fool unable to take care of herself in even the simplest of ways.
“Drop your weapons, Blackmoore, or I stick her like you stuck my friend there.” The blade bit into her skin drawing blood. The warm rivulets dripped down her neck, surprisingly itchy.
Only Grayson didn’t do that. Instead, he used his incredible speed again. Suddenly he was behind them and the blade at her throat vanished as the man screamed in agony as his wrist snapped in half at Grayson’s grasp. She didn’t look as Grayson held the man down and questioned him. The man revealed nothing before Grayson finished him off. Two dead. How did he do it? She was shaking for god’s sake.
“Come on. There will be more and they’ve blown in the entrance. They’re trying to trap us in.” Grayson grabbed her hand and they took off running down one long stone corridor after the next. It was a maze of hallways and rooms. It went on forever. When they finally stopped she felt as though they were even deeper in the catacombs, far below the surface.
They stopped in one of the rooms with spare couches and little else. She’d worked up a sweat and an appetite, not that she as complaining. “They’re Donato’s men,” she said.
“I know. I saw the seal. Are you all right?” He asked it the same way Sissy asked her if she wanted grilled cheese for dinner. The comparison made her laugh and he gave her a calculating look. “This was your first time watching someone die. It’s hard.”
For some reason his understanding did not mellow her out as she might have thought. In fact it seemed to do the opposite. Her spine snapped straight and she lifted her chin wanting to appear as cool as he. “I’m fine. I was taken off guard. That’s all.”
He gave her a doubtful look before taking out his cell phone. He tried for several minutes to call out before giving up. “No signal this deep. We’ll have to find another exit.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Arabella asked.
Grayson arched a brow and only looked at her. Then it sunk in. He expected her to find the exit. She was this amazing tracker, supposedly. Yeah, right, she thought, taking a deep breath.
“Touch something and find us an exit. And unless you want to be stuck in this forsaken hell hole with a hungry vampire, I suggest you do it quickly.”
“No offense, but what’s the rush?”
“Aside from my enemies hunting us down room by room at this very moment, it is also—” he checked his watch— “only an hour until sunup. If you don’t find that exit before then we’ll be stuck here no matter what until sundown.”
“Oh,” she said as the implications sunk in.
“I’m glad you finally understand the magnitude of the problem. Now start finding us an exit.”
CHAPTER 11
Do you have to be such an asshole?
No.
Yes!
I cannot afford to soften toward her. Already my past with the girl is tumultuous.
Arabella should be already fed up with him, but he had to admit he admired her resilience. She hadn’t complained or screamed after he’d killed two of Donato’s men. Vincent Donato was not messing around. He must want Grayson’s head on a platter as much as Gray wanted his.
“Well I’m not getting anything in this old, dusty room. Let’s move out and see if I can pick up anything. No guarantees though. Really, the best chance I had would have been to try to get a read off anything in the morgue, but seeing as that’s ground zero of destruction that’s out of the picture. I’ll have to walk around touching everything since I have no one specific object to touch. This could take forever. Or I might not be able to find it at all.”
“Then let’s not waste any time,” Grayson said.
He left the room, checking for any sign of Donato’s men. Immediately she began touching the walls—anything to pick something up. Her breath caught. “This way I think!” She darted ahead of him. He cursed and ran after her. She zoomed down the hall and made a sharp turn taking them down a spiral staircase.
“Arabella, let me stay in the lead.”
She sent him an aggrieved stare. “Please don’t say my name. You sound like my father when you say it. I go by Ara.”
“Hush!” he commanded, his senses picking something up. Someone was headed for them and fast. “Quickly!” He grabbed her hand and took off down the narrow stone corridor. Sticky spider webs wrapped around his face. Along the way Ara touched everything she could with her free hand.
He turned the corner and she sucked in a breath. “The other way. Go right! I think I saw something. A hidden door. The image came and went so fast I don’t know what I saw though.”
He turned them the correct direction, his skin prickling with apprehension. He’d gotten his client killed and then his bruid. No one else would die because of him. Even if he had to sell his damned soul he’d do whatever it took to ensure no one else joined them.
They were rushing down the corridor so fast that when Ara stuck out her hand to touch a chipped, dusty vase on a side table, she inadvertently knocked it over. The crash sounded far too loud for his liking as it slammed to the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her small hand flexing in his.
An animal’s growl echoed off the wall as if the sound had skipped a long ways to them. Another growl came, this one sounding much closer. “We have to go.” Shapeshifted Weres, especially more than one of them did not help his odds and he counted on keeping his promise to her.
Ara took off running. This time he kept close pace behind her as they zigzagged deeper and deeper into the catacombs. They passed rooms of entombed corpses, hundreds of years old. It smelled like mildew. At least this deep the horrendous lemon and flower odor vanished. He’d rather smell the rotten corpses than ever have to smell lemon and flowers again.
She tripped on a jagged stone and shouted. Gray corrected her swiftly and pushed them on. That shout just revealed their location to their enemies. Time was running out.
“We’re getting close,” she whispered back at him, panting. “I can feel it.” Her flashlight lit her way, also something he didn’t like but couldn’t fault her for. Her vision in human form lacked pathetically compared to his. He was a creature of the night.
A howl crooned through the halls. The hair on his arms stood on end as he pulled them to a stop. She squeezed his hand tighter, probably not even realizing she did it. “They sound closer. Quick, this way!” She turned and tugged on his hand, but he didn’t budge.
“You need to go and hide. I’ll find you after it’s done,” Gray said.
“W-what do you mean after it’s done? Are you—you can’t mean to send me off by myself and sacrifice yourself like a lamb!” Her concern for him surprised him. The fact that she’d care at all.
Gray flashed her a grin as dark as this damned place of death. “I won’t be sacrificing anything.”
Surprise flashed across her face. She had a very expressive face; she revealed everything and hid nothing. It was a curse in the hands of the wrong person. He wanted to warn her, tell her to be wary of her weakness, but he shouldn’t. To help her in any personal way would be to show her consideration.
My bruid’s burnt ashes still linger beneath my fingernails and I thi
nk of another…
There cannot be a hell worthy of his disgrace. Mother would be ashamed.
As the thoughts ate at him he watched her shake her head and plead with him to come with her. Could she see it wasn’t worth the risk? He’d dispose of them and with this being the only hallway to Ara, the weres would never make it past him alive.
“Go now, Arabella. Do not disobey me.” He pushed her shoulder enough to get her feet moving. Her jaw wavered up in down like she wanted to say something. “Now!” he said. It wasn’t until after her footsteps faded away and she disappeared from view that he realized he’d fallen back on his native Turkish tongue. The unusual lapse would have to be considered later though. For now…
More howls danced through the halls. Snarls and heavy breathing came next, the heavy sniffing like that of a dog. They were coming. This, he loved. The hot-blooded anticipation that fueled his body and made his heart pump. This always made him feel alive when nothing else could. All those years of Anita’s depression had sent him into his work with concentrated ferocity. He’d been working the second time she miscarried.
An animal barreling down the hallway toward him shoved the bitter thoughts away. Claws clicked on the stone. Heavy breaths labored, the sound growing louder. Loud, noisy beasts Weres were. Vampires used stealth and speed to their advantage, usually requiring a blade to finish the job. Two of them. Without Ara to worry about, he relished the oncoming fight.
Gray rushed down the hall, his steps making no sound at all as he moved so quickly he nearly moved on air. His speed blurred. He caught the first lumbering Were with an arm to the throat. The Were yelped as it slammed backward with the force of Grayson’s strike. He did not hesitate to pull out his blade and bury it deep in the Were’s heart. The silver blade did its job. Shuddering, the creature foamed at the mouth before it exhaled its last breath.
The last two Weres were on him. One jumped in the air trying to catch Gray in the chest while the other ducked low and launched at his knees. Gray knew he couldn’t dodge both attacks so he went the path of least resistance and took the hit to the chest. The blast hit him like a wrecking ball. He shot backward soaring through the air and crashing into the wall. The Were who hit him wasn’t so lucky.