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STEP (The Senses)

Page 27

by Paterson, Cindy


  What the hell did that mean? Possessive grave-robbing bitch. Kilter took a quick glance at Roarke, who was now sawing at the webs latched to his wrists. It was taking too long.

  “You won’t defeat me,” Jasmine said, then nodded to the rooftops. “Put down the gun, Kilter.”

  Several Worms and Long Necks stood alongside a few vamps. What the hell was going on here? Since when were vamps and CWOs running together?

  He heard Rayne scream and a scrambling of feet. As he turned, he saw a Long Neck slap Rayne across the face, sending her back ten feet.

  Fury exploded. He dove to the right, shooting off several rounds at the Lilac. “Roarke, hurry, damn it. I can’t hold them.”

  He felt a shuriken pierce his left shoulder, then a knife stabbed into his leg. He staggered, falling to his knees.

  His eyes met Rayne’s.

  She called his name as she came for him. The Long Neck grabbed her arm and sent her flying through the air again. She crashed into the hood of the car, and blood ran down the side of her face and her lower lip.

  His low roar of vehemence was cut off as webs wrapped around his lower legs. No. The anxiety ripped through his insides like a shredded blade. He’d never felt such fear in his life. Nothing mattered. Nothing except her. She was his world. She was his life.

  “Rayne,” he shouted in an agonized rage.

  He rolled to the side to try to avoid the webs from creeping up his body, knife slashing at them with one hand and his gun shooting with the other in the direction of the Lilac.

  Vamps leapt from the rooftops like goddamn acrobats. Where had they all come from?

  Kilter knew he was fucked. The Lilac laughed as three of them jumped him at once, pinning him to the ground, one on each shoulder, the other crushing his windpipe with his hands.

  A loud wail tore through the alley. Rayne? No, it couldn’t have been.

  Kilter kicked the vamp holding his right shoulder in the nuts and he fell backwards. He rolled to the side, seeing Rayne standing over the dead Long Neck. No wounds. No blood. Dead.

  She’d used her ability.

  Good girl, he thought. Now, all he needed was a bloody machete to decapitate these bastards.

  “Let him go,” Rayne said. The sound of a gun cocking. “I said let him go.”

  Rayne, no. “Goddamn it, listen to me for once and get the hell out of here,” Kilter said in a croak that was cut off by a vamp’s fingers tightening on his throat. “Now, Rayne,” he growled.

  Kilter reacted violently against the hold around his neck, but he was immobile. Webs around him, vamps on top, his air a breath of a whisper as his windpipe crushed beneath fingers.

  Jasmine laughed. “Are you going to shoot me, Rayne? The one who saved your life.” She blocked his view of Rayne. She made a tsking sound. “Now, that wouldn’t be nice. After all I’ve done for you.”

  “Kill him and I will put a bullet through your bitchy face before any of your pets can get to me. Or let him go and I walk away with you and no one gets hurt.”

  What? Kilter’s mind screamed with sheer panic at what Rayne was doing. The thought of her walking away with that psychotic Lilac was like a wheel of darts pounding into his head.

  “Rayne, no,” Roarke yelled, his voice crackling with desperation.

  “Do what I bloody well tell you. Shoot her and run like hell. They won’t go after you if she’s dead.” What the hell was she thinking? Why didn’t she run?

  He saw Rayne’s defeat, the anguish in her eyes, the light vanishing as the gun wavered in her trembling hand. Resolved to what fate had dealt her. In that moment, a piece of his heart ripped and was swallowed up by his devastation. “Don’t give up. Never give up, Rayne.” He’d suffer at his brother’s hands a thousand times over rather than see that expression.

  “You can fight. You’re strong, baby.” His breath was failing him, as the piss-head wasn’t letting up on his throat. “Jesus, Rayne, I’m not worth it. Shoot and get the hell out of here.” He prayed she could hear his words, would listen to him begging for her life.

  “You are worth my life, Kilter,” Rayne replied.

  He was shocked to hear her speak telepathically with the clarity of an ancient. Then realization pumped through him as he deciphered what they meant. No one had ever said anything like that to him in his life. No one. Yet, he never wanted to hear those words slip from her trembling lips.

  He felt his body slipping, lungs screaming for air as his vision faded. She is mine. Protect her. Fight.

  “Let him go,” Rayne repeated. The gun went off and gravel pitched up as it hit the ground beside Jasmine’s feet. “You want me, then let him go.”

  Kilter sucked air into his lungs as the vamp suddenly let go of his neck. He heard Rayne approaching and he tried desperately to crawl to his feet, but a foot slammed into his shoulder where the shuriken was lodged, and a low ragged sound ripped from his throat.

  “Hurt him again and you will not have seen pissed,” Rayne said.

  “And I could have you in my webs within seconds.”

  “Not before risking a bullet in your head,” Rayne retorted. “Back away from him.”

  Jasmine shrugged and slowly stepped back, gesturing for the vamps to move away too. “Very well. I have no need of him dead or alive.”

  He tried desperately to use his Visionary skills, despite the laws, but his body was shutting down and he could do shit about it. It was the most frustrating moment of his life.

  Suddenly, he felt the soft caress of her skin on his cheek. She was at his side, hand on his face as she wiped the blood from his brow. Her skin felt like butter sliding over his bruised face. One delicate tip of her finger caressed his mouth then she lowered her head. With quivering lips, she placed them on his mouth and it was as if the heavens had opened up and given him a sensual breath of fresh air. Everything forgotten as her sweet lips touched his and made the pain vanquish for mere moments. It was all worth it. This. Her.

  He opened his eyes just as a tear fell down her cheek landing on his chin. “Don’t ever stop believing in those around you.”

  Her voice shook and he could smell the fear dripping from her pores. She was doing this because she felt responsible. Didn’t she understand that if she left him, there would be nothing for him except destruction? This would obliterate him.

  “Rayne—”

  “Touching,” Jasmine said.

  “Rayne,” Kilter whispered, his eyes closed in agony. “You should have . . . run when you had the . . . chance.”

  “They would’ve killed you.”

  Most likely they still would, but he’d never tell her that.

  “Kilter, where are you? Jedrik and Delara need to know.”

  “Danielle. Tell them it’s bad. Rayne, they need to get to Rayne. Near Bellwood. Alley behind. Lilac. Vamps.”

  “Ten minutes, Kilter,” Danielle said.

  It would be too late.

  Rayne slowly got to her feet and faced Jasmine. “Let him live and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  Kilter’s scream of rage was overpowering as it tore through the night air like a wounded animal.

  Jasmine raised her brows, smiling. “You will do whatever I want regardless.”

  “Maybe, but not without a fight.” Her eyes closed for a second and when she spoke her voice was strong and steady. “I will not fight you.”

  “Jesus, Rayne, no. You don’t understand,” Roark shouted in gasping breathes. “Damn it, she will use you against the Sen—” His words were cut off as Jasmine’s knife went straight through his chest.

  “No,” Rayne screamed and went to go to him. A vamp grabbed her arm, hauling her back. She reacted instinctively, raising the gun and pulling the trigger. The vamp howled in pain as the bullet shattered the bone in his arm. He fell to the ground in agony.

  Jasmine took a step back. “Your Roarke will recover, but he won’t.” She nodded to Kilter. “He is dying. If we stand here any longer, you won’t have any bargaining power.�
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  “Then I will blow your head off like that guy’s arm. You want me?” Rayne said. “Then he lives.”

  “Rayne, Christ no. Don’t. I’m begging for the first time in my wretched life. Don’t surrender yourself for me. Shit, don’t destroy me like that. Rayne. Please.”

  She ignored his words, knowing that her card had been dealt, and if it meant Kilter’s life then she was willing to do anything. She’d never had the opportunity to save anyone, never had anyone to care enough about. Now she knew what it meant by loving another, caring enough to do anything you could to save a life.

  Jasmine smiled. “I agree to your terms.” She gave a single nod to the vamps and CWOs and they scattered.

  “Fuck. Noooo.” Kilter’s voice screamed in her head. She dared a single glance at him, saw the anguish, lips drawn, brows lowered and his eyes . . . his eyes wide with what could only be alarm.

  He struggled against the webs, but they only tightened and she felt herself dying insides. An ember of fire was slowly being doused with a tidal wave of agony.

  “Don’t. Let me know you will live. Give me that, Kilter.” She hoped he had heard her, prayed her words sunk into his mind. She’d fought her last battle and won. This was her victory, Kilter’s life.

  She looked away as Jasmine led her towards the car.

  Tears trailed down her cheeks as Jasmine opened the car door for her. She assisted her into the passenger side then went around to the other side.

  She stared out the window at Kilter lying on the pavement. He wasn’t moving. Was he dead? No, he was resilient. A survivor. Every inch of her body wanted to leap out of the car and run to his side, hold him close to her body and protect him, but if she did, it would seal his fate.

  In the distance, she could hear sirens and knew the police would take him to the hospital when what he needed was Anstice.

  She tried to contact the one person who had scared the crap out of her, but knew he was the one who would know what to do.

  “Waleron. Kilter is in trouble.”

  Silence.

  Jasmine peeled out of the alley.

  “Waleron, please.” What if he wasn’t close enough to hear? She was uncertain how far her telepathy reached. She concentrated on Waleron’s image. “Waleron,” she screamed in her mind.

  “You are using your telepathy and it feels a great distance,” Waleron said. “Only ancients and a few rare Reflections can reach this far.”

  She ignored him. “It’s Kilter. He’s hurt. I can’t . . . don’t let him die. Promise me you won’t let him die or all I’ve done is for naught.”

  “What have you done Rayne?” Waleron’s voice was fatigued and a little shaky.

  “It doesn’t matter now. He needs you, all of you. Help him get back what he’s lost. He is a good man, Waleron. Tell him. Okay? He needs to hear that.”

  “I suspect, from you. Not me,” Waleron said.

  She ignored his words. “He’s in the alley behind a condo building on Queen West. Across from the park. Hurry, the police are coming. And . . . help Roarke. He saved his life.”

  Waleron’s voice grew stronger and deeper. “Jedrik and Delara are already on their way. Rayne, we never leave one of our own behind.”

  “Then you don’t have to worry—I’m not one of you,” Rayne replied. “But Kilter is. Save him.” She quickly pulled the blind down on her mind, locking her powers away, shielding them from those who might be able to track her with her telepathy.

  A tear dropped onto her lap and soaked into her jeans. No matter what happened to her, she knew that the Senses would look out for Kilter. That was worth anything she could give. For once in her life, she felt proud of herself. She felt a solid strength that was holding onto her will with a powerful grip. This was what Rebecca was talking about, the confidence and self-worth you felt when you did something not for yourself, but for someone else you cared about. Someone you loved.

  And she knew with every part of her soul that she loved Kilter. He was honesty, dignity and pride. And he was a lost soul who was grasping for salvation from the one thing he’d lost—trust from those he loved. He had her trust to hold on to. She had given him that.

  “One day, my love, one day you will love again and know what I feel right now.”

  “Babe.” Rayne’s head shot up and her eyes widened with shock that he’d penetrated her shield. It was fuzzy and hoarse, but still she’d know Kilter’s voice anywhere. “Never . . . give . . . up. Never . . .”

  He was still alive. Relief poured through her body and she sank further into her seat, closing her eyes as the tears rolled down her face.

  If he lived, she’d be okay with what her life was going to become in this woman’s hands. Just help him, she thought. He deserves to find happiness.

  Chapter 28

  They rode in silence for a few blocks until she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. It was becoming a habit and she liked that she could now voice her thoughts. “Why? Why do you want me? What makes you think I have any value?”

  Jasmine smiled, her expression confident. “You don’t give yourself credit, my dear.”

  A vamp sat behind her and all she could smell was the overwhelming scent of black licorice. “I’m insignificant to the Senses, if you plan on using me against them.”

  “You were never Anton’s. Did you know that?” With the mention of her husband, Rayne’s grip tightened on the door handle.

  “You’ve always been mine. Right from the beginning.” She licked her lips. “Anton was just a minion.” She laughed. “He was pathetic. But he kept you alive and educated, I might add. That is all I asked of him. He could do whatever he wanted as long as you remained . . . living.”

  “What do you mean?” A sick feeling began to build in the pit of her stomach.

  She swerved around a corner. “I made a mistake a long time ago. One.” Her voice was crass and harsh as she said the words. “Now I will correct it. He will pay for escaping me.”

  “Who?” Fear radiated.

  She stopped the car in front of a building and turned to look over the back seat. Her devious thin-lipped smile caused shivers to run down her spine. This woman had no remorse, no soul. “My intelligence far overshadows any of your kind. He will come back to me or he will live with the knowledge that I have you. I was planning on waiting a while longer, until your husband managed to produce Senses children out of you, but—” she shrugged, “—a new development arose and, make no mistake, I can bend to get what I want.”

  “Who?” she repeated. “Who are you talking about?” Was Jasmine from Kilter’s past? Had she helped torture Kilter? What did she mean Anton was her minion? What was going on?

  Her brows rose. “You’ve been like a child to me, Rayne. I have watched you grow. Helped nurture you. Who do you think paid for all your private tutors? You’re well educated because of me. I was very disappointed when you lost all that weight.” The damaged car pulled up to the curb and the door opened. “I must confess. I was concerned you may die. That was when I . . . encouraged your husband to have Roarke . . . become intimate with you.”

  Oh my God.

  She shrugged. “He refused. A grave mistake on his part. I knew he cared about you. It took little convincing. You see Roarke did not want Ben in your bed.” They blackmailed him. He hadn’t wanted to go through with it, but he’d saved her from Ben. “Anton thought you might actually conceive and produce a child he could raise with powers from a GQ and a Senses. Idiot. I knew better. You’d never conceive with the weight loss.” She grabbed her arm and pulled her from the car. “Come. We have some negotiating to do.”

  They took a private elevator up to a penthouse. Jasmine led her through an elaborate mirrored foyer into a dark room with the only light being flickering candles. Vibrant red accessories were scattered all over the enormous open concept apartment with painted black walls. An iron spiral staircase led up to the second floor. In the center of the room was a large gray stone hearth that had a gas fireplace
. A woman was sitting on a leather lounge chair in front of it, probably trying to warm her cold fish-like skin, Rayne thought.

  The red-haired woman turned at their approach then hissed, revealing her pearly white fangs. Vampire. This had to be Liam’s abode.

  The vamp who’d ridden in the car with them whispered close to her ear. “She loves the taste of new blood.”

  Rayne quickly closed her gaping mouth and straightened her spine. Rebecca was adamant about posture, said with it came confidence. It worked more often than not and she turned her direct gaze on the bloodsucker. “Better her bait than a bloodsucker with a voice that sounds like pigs squealing.” Vamps prided themselves on their alluring voice and she knew that would be a colossal insult.

  “I’ll fuckin’ kill—” He raised his fist and she did what she had always wanted to do when someone was about to hit her; she smiled.

  “Enough,” Liam roared as he walked out of one of the rooms, glass of wine in hand. “Jasmine. Rayne. What a wonderful surprise.” He kissed Jasmine on the lips. “Everything go smoothly?”

  “As I suspected, Roarke led us right to her.” A vamp brought two glasses of wine, passing one to Jasmine. He held the other out to her.

  “Take it,” Liam demanded.

  She took the wine and instantly felt the malice from the vampire who had held the glass. She quickly smothered her ability.

  “Let’s toast—to blood kin.” Liam raised his glass, as did Jasmine. “Family and those we love. That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?”

  “I rather thought we were here to kill vampires,” Rayne snapped and refused to lift her glass. What would he know about family and love; the guy was as monogamous as a stallion in a corral full of mares. Why had Delara slept with him? Okay, he was handsome, charming, and had sex appeal, but he was a vampire on a mission.

  He took a sip from his glass and lowered it. His eyes slowly perused her body with a sensual expression that made her uneasy. Then he stared at her face, his head tilting slightly and his brow furrowed. “You love him.” It was not a question.

 

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