Rebel Obsession (All the King's Men)

by Donya Lynne

  Stepping into the elevator, she could barely hold her shivering hand still long enough to tap the button for the ninth floor, but soon the doors closed and the elevator began its climb toward freedom.

  Even though her mind was completely lost to reality, one thought grew stronger with each passing second. She was done. Whatever her father had taken from her—which hung just beyond her realm of consciousness, in a place she couldn’t find through her haze of withdrawal and the dull ache in her chest—was too important to live without. It frustrated her to feel its importance but not be able to remember what it was, but she knew she couldn’t survive without it.

  The elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and she stepped out.

  After looking up and down the hall, she turned and made her way until she found the right room, took a deep breath, and knocked.

  Within seconds, the door opened. A dreck stared back at her and she could see another one inside prepping a syringe.

  Good. They could dose her so she wouldn’t have to.

  “I’m Candy,” she said.

  The dreck stepped aside. “I’m Grotek. That’s Chane. Come in.”

  One more deep breath, and Miriam entered the room. The door clicked shut behind her. Blue bliss in a syringe awaited.

  * * *

  The door to Io’s cell unlocked with a series of loud clangs, and then the door swung open with a scream of metal on metal.

  In a flash, Io was on his feet and rushing out the door. A mass of bodies greeted him, some he recognized, some he didn’t, but all of whom were in his way of getting to his mate. He needed her. Io was going crazy without Miriam.

  With a shriek, he attacked the first guard in his path, easily dispatching him before moving on to the second. He was mad with fury and lust, clawing at the guards.

  “I told you!” A voice shouted from behind him.

  “Do something!” another cried.

  “TRACE! Get over here! NOW!” Micah’s voice cut through the melee.

  “Io…stop it, Io! You’re free! No one’s going to hurt you!” A familiar voice called to him, but he couldn’t place it.

  “Give it up, Ari. He’s lost to the calling,” someone else said.

  Ari?

  Suddenly, Io released the guard and spun around. Ari? He knew Ari, right? Io’s chest rose and fell as he studied the group of vampires surrounding him, but especially the one in the front, with the short, dark hair and tawny eyes.

  “Ari.” Io’s voice sounded foreign even to him, as if he was more beast than vampire.

  Trace stood with his arm outstretched and his hand fisted as if ready to drop Io if he did anything stupid.

  “Io,” Ari said, stepping forward. “You need to calm down. There isn’t much time.”

  “Ari!” Io lunged forward, and everybody flinched.

  He hugged his best friend—they were still best friends, right—as if Ari were a parachute and he was in a free fall, which he damn near felt like he was.

  “Okay, buddy. I’m here, but we need you now. Miriam needs you. She’s in danger.”

  That got Io’s attention in a heartbeat, and he pulled back, on the alert. His mind was misfiring with a kaleidoscope of emotions. One second he was angry, the next sad, and now he was overwhelmed with urgency.

  “Where is she? Where’s Miriam?”

  “They’ve tracked her to the Hotel Burnham,” Micah said, stepping forward. “She’s in withdrawal, and some think—” Micah shot a glance toward an unfamiliar female with long hair and enough ink to fill a rainbow. “Some think she might try to hurt herself.”

  “Or worse,” Trace said.

  His mate, his mate, his mate. Miriam was in danger. He needed to save her. Panic pushed him to near hyperventilation as he felt the link that had formed to Miriam fire up.

  “Lead the way, Io. I’m with you.” Trace latched on to his forearm. “Take us to your mate.”

  Without another word, Io looked up at Trace then connected their molecular structures to one another.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  And then he pulled Trace with him as he dematerialized from the king’s dungeon to the shadows near the hotel.

  Miriam! I need to find her! Need to save her!

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Apostle glanced down at Miriam, who lay passed out on the bed. Jessup had already gone vanishing vampire and taken the blood samples back with him to Bishop’s lab.

  “By the way,” he said over his shoulder to Grotek and Chane. “Nice work.”

  The two dealers lay in a stupor on the opposite bed. Jessup had mentally tranqed them not to awaken until Apostle was gone. They would awaken thinking that Miriam had passed out after taking too much cobalt. All memory of Apostle, Jessup, the withdrawal of her blood, and anything to do with any of the above had been stripped from their minds.

  His phone rang.

  Bishop.

  “Yes?”

  “Good work,” Bishop said.

  “Do you have enough of her blood?”

  “Plenty. You’ve done well, brother.”

  Someone spoke excitedly in the background.

  “What?” Bishop said, his voice fainter as if he had turned away from the phone. “Pregnant?! Are you sure? Check again.”

  The voice in the background said, “I’ve checked three times.”

  “God in Heaven,” Bishop said.

  What was going on? Apostle turned and looked down at Miriam’s belly. Were they saying she was pregnant? She didn’t look pregnant, but then, maybe she wasn’t showing, yet.

  “Apostle!” Bishop barked him back to attention.

  “Yes?”

  “Change of plans. I want her. I don’t care what it takes. I want that unborn child.”

  Apostle’s mind raced. “How—”

  “I’m sending Jessup back. As soon as he arrives, get out of there. He’ll give Grotek and Chane new memories so they take the fall. Then he’ll bring the princess here.”

  Shit had just gone in a direction he hadn’t expected. “Okay, but….”

  A second later, Jessup reappeared in the room.

  “Get out of here,” the vampire said. “I’ll take care of this.”

  No need to tell Apostle twice. He had a bad feeling about this and didn’t want to be anywhere near what was about to go down.

  “Bishop. I’m out of here,” he said. “I’ll call you when I’m clear.”

  “I’m about to be transfused. If I don’t answer, I’ll call you right back.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Apostle disconnected, not wanting to know what Bishop had meant about being transfused.

  He looked around quickly then headed for the door, leaving Grotek, Chane, and the princess in what he hoped were Jessup’s capable hands as he raced for the elevator bay.

  How the hell had the princess gotten pregnant? This shit just didn’t add up. The vampire king had made it well known his daughter was not to be touched, and yet, she was with child. Which meant…?

  Fuck. Had she been mated?

  Apostle was too agitated to wait for an elevator and headed for the stairs. He just wanted to keep moving. Especially if she had a mate. He didn’t want to be around if the unlucky male showed up. He knew how mated vampire males could be. All too well, in fact. And this one wouldn’t find a happy ending once he discovered what had happened to Miriam.

  The question was, who the hell was Miriam’s mate?

  * * *

  Io rushed out of the elevator with Trace right behind. They had already inspected the lower floors, but there had been no sign of Miriam.

  On the ninth floor, however, he caught her scent.

  “She’s here.” Io’s entire body raged to be with her, and he was only barely keeping himself pulled together so he could find her and sate the violent urgings stringing him out.

  “I smell drecks,” Trace said from behind him.

  “And cobalt. Shit.” Io couldn’t let Miriam begin using again. She needed to stay clean.

 
; Racing down the hall, he stopped so abruptly that Trace ran into him and nearly sent the two of them careening to the floor.

  “Damn, Io!”

  “Ssshh.” Io pushed Trace back and stared at the door they had just passed then inhaled long and deep.

  Trace stood back, letting him scent out his female.

  “There!” Io shot forward and kicked the door open. It slammed into the wall and ricocheted back.

  What the fuck? A vampire stood over Miriam. She was passed out on one of the beds. Two drecks lay prone on the other, apparently locked into a compulsive state.

  The vampire’s gaze flew to his and shot wide, and then he reached for Miriam.

  “No!” Both he and Trace surged forward and grabbed Miriam’s legs just as the vampire dematerialized with her.

  And wouldn’t you know it? The fucker sucked them into the vapor travel tunnel with him.

  Io felt himself squeezed tight as if in a straw, flying at the speed of light, and then everything opened and he came back into his animated state, still holding Miriam, Trace right next to him.

  The vampire stared in shock at them.

  Io had no idea how he and Trace had managed the vapor caper with the asshole who had tried to take Miriam without asking his permission, but here they were in…holy fuck! Where in God’s name were they?

  Drecks stood frozen and gaping all around them. They were wearing white lab coats, and a couple who had been in dreck form quickly shifted to their human visage as if they hoped to hide themselves. Io stared wide-eyed, looking around what appeared to be a giant laboratory.

  “Trace, are you getting this shit?”

  “Holy fuck,” was Trace’s answer. He sounded as shocked and awed as Io felt.

  Holding cells—at least fifty of them—lined the walls of the sterile room. In each one was a vampire in various stages of captivity, abuse, and torture.

  To their right, a massive vampire with long, dark hair lay prone on a table. Tubes were attached to his arms and it looked like they were doing some kind of transfusion or something to him, being that the tubes led to a dreck lying on another table a few feet away.

  The dreck on the table opened his eyes as if he realized unwelcome guests had arrived. When his gaze met Io’s, he let out a shriek and jumped up, yanking the tubes from his arms.

  “Get them!” He pointed at Trace and Io.

  “Fuck you, Dr. Dread!” Io turned toward Trace. “Ice ‘em!”

  But Trace’s hand had already come up, fingers splayed wide. Every dreck in the room froze, along with the vampire who still had hold of Miriam.

  Io pried the dickshit’s fingers from around Miriam’s upper arms, struggling against the strong hold Trace had on him. Finally, he pulled Miriam free and hugged her to his body. She was breathing, but drugged. But not on cobalt. Thank God.

  “Miriam. Can you hear me? Baby, I’m here.” He kissed her perfect face while Trace slowly walked away from him.

  “Trace?” Io hoisted Miriam up into his arms and cradled her close, ready to fly out of this hellhole. “Can you tell where we are?”

  They needed to send an army back here to infiltrate and release all these vampires. He and Trace couldn’t do it alone.

  “Arizona.” Trace picked up a small shipping box and showed it to Io. “I’ve got the address right here.”

  Io could tell Trace wanted to go superpower on the drecks whose lives he held, literally, in the palm of his hand.

  “Don’t, Trace. You know you can’t.”

  “What? Kill these rats?” Trace walked over to the one who had stood up on the table next to the massive vampire who still had tubes sticking out of his arms. “Do you think they deserve to live, Io?”

  He spoke to Io, but his gaze remained on the dreck.

  “Trace, you’ll start another war.”

  “And what do you think this is, Io?” Trace waved his arm in an arc, sending drecks flying like puppets thrown across the room.

  Glass shattered. Papers scattered. Tables were knocked over.

  Io’s body screamed for him to take Miriam and flee to safety where he could let the calling properly claim him, but he couldn’t leave Trace here. Not like this.

  “We don’t know what this is, Trace. This could be an independent. We need to investigate. You know as enforcers we can’t go vigilante.” Io prayed Trace wouldn’t lose it.

  He heard a snap and looked at the vampire next to him. His forearm hung at an odd angle. Another snap, and Io watched his other forearm bend in the middle.

  “Oh yeah?” Trace said. “Well, the law doesn’t apply to traitors, does it?”

  Trace flicked the index finger of his left hand and the vampire’s jaw broke.

  “Trace. We need to go. We need to get out of here.”

  Just then Trace looked down at the large, naked vampire on the table, and his face paled.

  Io frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong.”

  It looked like Trace was about to be sick.

  Trace bent closer, inspecting the large vampire’s face and sniffing him. “Father?”

  Io’s mouth dropped open and his eyes shot wide as he pulled Miriam closer. What was Trace saying? Was that behemoth on the lab table his father?

  Trace’s rage bubbled up with such violence, Io could actually feel it. The dark energy became a living entity, and wind began blowing through the room, growing stronger with each passing second.

  “You mother fuckers!” Trace cried out.

  The vampire who’d tried to kidnap Miriam exploded in a shower of flesh, blood, and shattered bones as Trace fisted his left hand. After the gore settled, he reached down and yanked the tube’s out of his father’s arms.

  With unbelievable strength, Trace bent and lifted his father over his left shoulder, all while keeping the drecks suspended with his right hand.

  Trace turned and shouted back at the drecks, “You’re all dead, mother fuckers! All of you! I’ll kill every last fucking one of you goddamn animals! Fuck the truce!”

  Io had never seen Trace this angry. Wind whipped all around them, and Io knew Trace was causing it. Just how powerful was Traceon? It scared the living shit out of him to think that this was his teammate and he’d never known just how powerful he was. “Trace! Now! We need to go now!”

  Trace turned toward him, fixing him with yellow irises. Yellow irises? Trace just got freakier and freakier by the second.

  “Go back to the hotel and grab those drecks if they haven’t left, then get back to AKM and tell the others about this place. We need to get a team here pronto.” Io shifted Miriam in his arms, squinting as papers flew past his face. “I’m taking Miriam to my place.”

  With his yellow eyes, Trace looked like a freak, but he nodded then disappeared with his father.

  The wind immediately let up and the drecks re-animated as Io locked himself to Miriam and dematerialized, leaving behind the nightmare he and Trace had landed in.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Bishop pushed himself up off the table the hairless vampire had thrown him against. Jessup’s flesh was everywhere. All over everything.

  But it didn’t matter.

  “Evacuation Code Red. Pack it up. Now!” The big vampire’s venom and blood were shooting through him, sapping his strength, but he could rest later. They needed to get out of here before vampires overran the place.

  Anything vital had to go. They would have to leave most of the vampires behind, but a few would go with.

  Losing Maddox was a crushing blow, but he still had Miriam’s blood. Royal blood. And he had already drawn enough of Maddox’s blood and venom to hopefully complete what he had started today.

  As the lab assistants rushed around to gather anything critical they could scavenge from the mess the hairless vampire had made, Bishop rubbed his palm over the padded table where Maddox had been lying. He had heard everything. The hairless vampire was named Trace, and Maddox was his father. How very interesting.

  “I want that vampire,” Bish
op said aloud.

  “Who, Maddox?” One of his assistants paused and frowned at him.

  The corner of Bishop’s mouth turned up slyly. “If we can get him back, yes. But the one I want…the one I really want? Is Trace.” He raised his voice so the entire room could hear him. “If anyone can find a way to bring me Trace, you will be handsomely rewarded.” Trace was clearly a mongrel with exceptional powers, and that gave Bishop a mental hard-on. Trace would be a fabulous mixed-blood to test his mutant theories on.

  The vital materials of the lab were already one-third packed up, the evacuation plan running like clockwork. He would never return to this facility, but the destruction and evac would be worth it if he could get his hands on Trace. That mongrel would make a fine addition to his collection.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Io appeared with Miriam in his living room.

  She groaned and rolled her head from side to side as he laid her on the couch.

  “Miriam. Miriam? Wake up, baby. Come on. Wake up for me.” He knelt beside her, stroking her hair off her face.

  When her eyes fluttered open, he bowed his head and said a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Io?” She sounded so damn weak as she frowned and blinked. Did she recognize him?

  Lifting his face to hers, he smiled. “I’m here, baby. I’m with you.”

  “Is this Heaven?” She blinked drowsily.

  Whatever those drecks had given her to knock her out had been strong, but he didn’t detect any cobalt in her system.

  “No, baby. This isn’t Heaven.” Io skimmed his fingers over her face, his body crying out with need for her. But he wouldn’t claim her until she was lucid and able to understand what was happening. “You’re in my home. I saved you.”

  With heavy lids, Miriam forced herself to keep her eyes open so she could look at him. Io could tell she was struggling to focus, but she tried to lift a shaking hand to his cheek.

  “How do you feel?” he said, dipping his face into her hand.

  She trembled and groaned, closing her eyes and curling in on herself.