by Susan Illene
Lucas was tired. Nearly all he’d done since Melena freed him from Purgatory last spring was look for Micah. He wanted it to be over and to begin his life with his mate. Melena had been remarkably patient while he left her for weeks at a time, but for how long would she stay that way? He could see the despair in her eyes every time he visited her only to leave again hours later.
“Tell me the truth!” he demanded.
Bron sucked in a breath to speak—the only reason a vampire needed air. “It wasn’t your brother. You have it all wrong.”
Zoe had caused this. The older nephilim had kidnapped Micah and put him under a sleep spell, rendering him defenseless. They’d since captured and interrogated her, but nothing he’d tried would get her to reveal Micah’s location or who might have him. Lucas would find his brother if he had to kill half the supernatural population to do it.
“Where would Zoe’s people hide him in this city?” Lucas asked, leaning close to Bron’s mangled body.
It would have saved time to compel the master vampire, but he was too strong. Even a nephilim as old as Lucas couldn’t manipulate the mind of an immortal who’d lived nearly a millennia. At least, not without a lot of sensor blood to weaken him first and he didn’t want Melena involved in this. She’d seen enough of the dark side of him. He’d lose her for certain if she saw how brutal he truly could be. Lucas would never risk that.
“I wouldn’t allow them to hide him in my territory.” Bron’s empty eye sockets stared back at him. “Everyone knows you’ve been searching for your brother. It would be suicide to hide him.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Lucas grabbed the vampire’s right hand and dug the hot iron through his fingers, burning them off one at a time.
“No, please, stop!” Bron’s body jerked in the chains. “I swear I haven’t seen Micah in more than a century. It wasn’t him in the container.”
Lucas grabbed the left hand. “Then who?”
“No one.”
“I don’t believe you.” He took off two fingers.
Bron’s body began to shake. “There were some illegals in there. Humans. No one important.”
Lucas paused. He’d done enough research to know the master vampire had been using immigrant children to do his dirty work. Kids no one would miss who could conduct illegal activities on Bron’s behalf during the daytime. He preferred them because they could be compelled to carry out his orders and not cheat him—unlike some of his own people.
“Were they children?” Lucas asked.
“What does that…” he screamed as he lost another finger.
Lucas knew his eyes must have been glowing gold with his anger, though the vamp couldn’t have seen them. “Were they?”
“Okay, yes, they were. Since when do you care what happens to humans?”
It wasn’t an unusual question. The supernatural world knew Lucas hated humans more than anyone, but they didn’t know he had a soft spot for vulnerable children. He’d been one himself a very long time ago.
“Where are the kids now?”
The vampire’s jaw hardened. “You’re going to kill me anyway. There’s no point in telling you.”
“I believe I have more than proven my willingness to take you apart one piece at a time. You can give me their location and receive a quick death or…” He touched the soldering iron to the vamp’s cheek, singing it. “We can continue to speculate on the kids’ whereabouts until the sun comes up.”
Bron swallowed hard. “They’re in a basement.”
“Which basement?” He pressed the iron again.
The master vampire screamed an address.
Lucas set the soldering iron down on the nearby metal table, unplugged it, and pulled out his cell phone to call one of his vampire subordinates. The one he’d brought with him when he’d come to Portland.
“Fallon, check this location for me and do it quickly.” He gave him the address Bron had revealed.
“I’m not far from there. Give me ten minutes,” the vampire replied.
Lucas hung up and looked at his heaving prisoner.
“You better hope your information is correct or I may consider relocating you to a place where we can continue this for another day or two,” he warned.
Bron’s shoulders tensed. “It’s the one. You’ll see.”
A brief flare of light lit up the room.
He glanced over to find Yerik had flashed next to him. The daimoun was wearing his favorite blue and green kilt with no shirt or shoes despite the cold temperature—one of his many oddities. He was part angel and part demon with powers no one fully understood.
They had the half-angel element in common, but that was as far as it went. Yerik was twice Lucas’ twenty-five hundred years and strong enough that he once killed an archangel. That made him a good ally, but a dangerous enemy.
“Any luck?” the daimoun asked.
Lucas grunted. “No, but he’s got a group of kids confined in a basement who need rescuing. I’ve got Fallon checking it out now.”
“Good.” Yerik glanced at Bron. “It’s too bad about your brother, though. I had hoped he’d turn up.”
“As did I.” Too much hope, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
Lucas studied his former mentor. Yerik was ageless—forever locked into appearing in his early thirties—though lately his face looked worn and haggard. His light-brown hair hung loose and tangled about his shoulders and he hadn’t shaven in at least a week. He could have passed for a caveman with the tartan covering so little of his hairy arms and chest.
There was something very off about his behavior lately. Lucas had been trying to pinpoint it ever since they’d reunited in New Orleans last summer. Yerik had leaped at the chance to help him search for Micah, but his assistance was almost too enthusiastic. And there were secrets in his vermillion eyes. Lucas had known the daimoun for far too long not to catch them.
After centuries of hiding why had he come back now? Yerik had taken a big risk. The archangels could still retaliate against him for killing one of their own. He had a mate to consider and she was nearing the end of her life. Was that why he chose to help Lucas search for his brother? Did Yerik hope to learn the secret for how to make his mate immortal? If so, why hadn’t he asked yet?
His phone rang.
“Yes,” he answered.
“The kids are here,” Fallon’s voice came over the line. “He had them locked in the basement under a house with nothing but bottled water and a couple of guards to watch over them.”
“I assume the guards are dead.”
“Of course, master.”
Fallon had been with him for nearly fifteen hundred years—all of his vampire life. He knew what was expected of him. Lucas mulled over the next course of action. They could hardly take responsibility for the kids, but they couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves, either.
“Call the authorities and tip them off. Then get back to the hotel before the sun comes up,” he ordered.
“Consider it done.”
Lucas took his sword from the table and stepped closer to Bron. “It appears you told the truth.”
“I don’t suppose you would consider letting me go?”
Lucas allowed himself a grim smile. The vampire couldn’t see the blade raised over his head. If he’d lived a few hours longer, he might have gotten his eyes back.
“Oh, yes, I intend to.”
He sliced the sword through Bron’s neck, taking his head cleanly off. It thumped onto the littered plastic lying on the cement floor. It paid to ensure one could clean up their messes quickly and efficiently.
“I see you haven’t allowed your skills to rust,” Yerik observed.
“No.” Lucas took a rag and wiped the blade clean. “I haven’t.”
The daimoun cocked his head. “Where did you get that sword? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Lucas hesitated. “Purgatory.”
“They’re giving out swords to their prisoners now? My,
how it has changed since I was there last.” Yerik reached out his hand.
“When were you there?” Lucas asked, giving him the blade. The daimoun had never mentioned going to Purgatory during the more than two millennia they’d known each other.
“Before you were born,” Yerik said, studying the sword. In the dim light it glowed. “The archangels used to confine me there when I displeased them—until I figured out a way to get through the portals. Is it my imagination or do the caves in Purgatory emanate light similar to this?”
The daimoun was getting a little too close to asking questions Lucas couldn’t answer. He was forbidden from speaking about the nerou—the offspring of sensors and nephilim. They were the ones who mined the ore which was used to craft the sword. The same ore was also used to construct chains no immortal could break due to its anti-magic properties. He didn’t like obeying orders from archangels, but he also didn’t want to return to Purgatory as punishment. It was time to change the subject.
“Why have you come?” Lucas asked, taking the blade back.
“I’ve discovered the location of the renegade sensor group, including Melena’s father.”
“Where?”
“Indiana.” Yerik smiled. “I’ve got a spy who’s infiltrated their group. Most of them are away at the moment, but she expects them back by the end of the week.”
“You trust this spy?” Lucas gave the daimoun a skeptical look.
“She is a sensor, but she’s proven herself many times. I believe she is as trustworthy as our mates.”
Yerik had bound himself to a sensor as well. It was ironic they’d both fallen in love with women from a race they reviled.
“Is there any chance they’re holding my brother there?” Lucas asked.
He wouldn’t wait until the end of the week if that was the case.
“No.” Yerik’s expression turned apologetic. “She hasn’t sensed any nephilim since arriving there.”
Lucas pushed back his disappointment. He hadn’t thought the group would keep Micah with them anyway since they were on the run. They knew most of the supernatural world was searching for them after they set off an explosion at the fae city in Canada and helped Zoe occupy Fairbanks. Most were blind followers taking orders, but their leader—Melena’s father—and his inner circle needed to be stopped.
“My mate will want to know and be there when we take them down.”
Yerik nodded. “That is why I thought we’d speak to her together.”
“I need to finish up here first.” Lucas indicated the mess in front of them.
“That’s fine. I’ve got something else to take care of this morning. Should we meet this afternoon?” the daimoun asked.
“I’ll see you then,” Lucas agreed.
Chapter Four
Melena
“Sable, leave the moose alone,” I scolded.
She was in her lynx form again with a thick coat of reddish-brown and black fur. It was daylight and too risky for her to change to a larger feline breed since humans might see her, but size didn’t stop her from bothering the local wildlife. She twitched the bob of her tail at me before moving deeper into the woods. The poor cat didn’t enjoy this latest mission.
We were out for the second time in one day. In this case, we were near a troll village northeast of Fairbanks where one of their people had gone missing during the night. Normally, I wouldn’t consider looking for a troll. They were vicious, smelly, and rude, but it was Bambi’s husband who had gone missing. Just because I’d never had occasion to meet him didn’t mean I could ignore her pleas.
Tweety—whose name had something to do with his favorite food—had wandered off with no sign of where he went. Not only had she cried big fat troll tears begging me to go look, but she had offered a lot of money to do it. Considering I was lacking employment at the moment, the opportunity for a paying job was too good to pass up.
Bambi was surprisingly wealthy for someone who lived in a one-room hut in a village that made most places in Africa look fancy. Only trolls could manage to have countless bugs living amongst them in the dead of winter—encouraged by all the half-eaten animal carcasses hanging from lines and poles. Ugh. I never wanted to visit the village again.
I’d brought Sable along to help. Between her nose and my senses, we would find Bambi’s missing husband and bring him home before dinner. I hoped. I really didn’t want to be near a troll village when eating time came. It would ruin my appetite for days.
The shape-shifter cat sniffed at the ground and changed direction for the tenth time. If the missing man had a specific destination in mind, he had an odd way of getting to it. Sable led me to a frozen creek that spanned about four or five feet across.
We carefully made our way over it before moving alongside the opposite bank for a few minutes. It was just as we turned north that I picked up the troll on my radar. I knew it was him because his kind always made me feel sick to my stomach before I even saw them.
“Sable, I’ve got it from here. You don’t have to sniff anymore.”
She sneezed twice in answer and pawed at her nose. Poor thing. It was a lot to ask of her to continually subject herself to such a foul smell while searching. I checked my GPS to get my bearings and kept moving forward.
A flash of light came from behind us. Then a second one.
“Melena, what are you doing?” Lucas asked in his most overbearing tone.
He must have had another bad day. It always made him grouchy.
I turned. He stood about ten feet away next to Yerik—the last man I wanted to see at the moment. It was partly because of the daimoun that I had to hide things from Lucas. Such as Micah not really being missing, but rather hiding from his own twin to carry out a grand plan that would probably end up getting us all executed. Their archangel partner, Ariel, had manipulated me into a vow of secrecy I couldn’t break.
I hadn’t seen Yerik in months, but he hadn’t changed much other than looking more tired. He still wore the same kilt and not much else. Lucas was the clean-cut one with a freshly shaven face revealing golden skin and a strong jaw. His blond hair had grown out several inches in recent months. He’d slicked it back, bringing attention to his compelling gold eyes. He wore a heavy black trench coat opened up to reveal dark pants and a red shirt.
Lucas preferred to dress well, which always gave me the urge to rip his clothes off and make a mess of him. I wanted to shake that stony exterior of his and find the passion I knew he hid underneath. As usual, his expression was unreadable and his emotions were held in check. There was no way to gauge his mood other than the tone of his voice.
“You know, you could start with a greeting,” I suggested. “It’s what normal people do.”
He stalked toward me with a familiar predatory grace. My feet itched to take a step back. Would I ever stop getting the urge to run when he did that?
“Like this?” he asked.
He lifted me off my feet and pulled me into his arms. Our mouths melded together. All the passion between us came rising up so fast I forgot to breathe. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting him know without words how much I missed him.
It ended too quickly. He slid me back down his body until my feet touched the ground, then traced a finger along my jaw. Finally, there was a spark of emotion in his eyes. A hint of how much he loved me. I’d also managed to mess up his hair while we kissed so that some of it fell across his forehead. The true sign of how much he cared was that he didn’t try to fix it right away.
“I’m pleased to see you, sensor—alive and unharmed. Now can you tell me what you’re doing in the middle of the woods?”
I ignored his implications and didn’t bother to ask how he found me. After heavy negotiations a few months ago we agreed we could use our cell phones to track each other. Before that it had just been him finding me that way, but I kept ditching my phones until he gave in and let me do the same to him. Fair was fair, after all.
I shrugged. “I was go
ing for a walk. What else would I be doing?”
“More than twenty miles from our house?” Lucas lifted a brow.
“It’s not like I expected you to be looking for me. You said you were in Portland.”
“Do you two need a moment?” Yerik asked.
I leaned around Lucas to find the daimoun grinning at us. If I’d been standing in the snow with bare feet, I wouldn’t have been smiling. Crazy bastard. At least it wasn’t as cold as this morning and had warmed up to negative ten degrees outside.
“No, we don’t.” I scowled. “If you guys must know I’m looking for a missing troll.”
“Why would you be doing that?” He wrinkled his nose.
“Let’s walk and talk. I want to get this over with—he’s just up ahead.” I pointed in the direction I sensed him.
“Very well, but you’ve still not answered the question,” Lucas said. “Why are you looking for a troll?”
I stepped over a log. “Because Bambi asked me to find her husband and she’s paying me to do it.”
“If you need money…” Lucas began.
“Don’t start,” I warned.
Yerik joined me on my other side. “I’m certain your mate has more than adequate funds to take care of you. Why would you take on such an…unappealing job?”
“Because unlike you guys I was not born in the last century or millennia or whatever. I need to earn a living for myself. It’s a matter of pride. Surely you can at least get that.”
“I do.” He ran a hand through his lanky brown hair. “But my mate was born in the same century as you and she does not mind my helping her.”
“Then maybe you should go visit her and make sure she doesn’t need something right now. I’d hate for you to miss the opportunity.” I gave him a shooing motion.
“There’s no arguing with her.” Lucas sighed. “I assure you I’ve tried many times.”
Kerbasi flew down to land in front of us. “I’ve spotted your troll. He’s walking around in circles up ahead. Are you certain we cannot just leave him and go home?”