“So, if it weren’t for Tori, Declan, and Kelsey, you’d be dead alongside me. Think on that, the next time you see her, and jealousy eats you up.”
“Jealousy?” she sputtered, the embarrassment inside her making her queasy and lightheaded. “Why the fuck would I be jealous?”
Eli laughed, setting the snifter down and moving across the room to her. “Well, I do not know,” he purred, catching her body before she could dodge him and pinning her against him. Stroking his hands down her back, he asked, “Why would you be jealous? I smell it on you, in the air, on your skin.” Catching her mouth, he kissed her roughly, deeply, his hands on her ass, lifting her up against him. “Are you jealous? If I were doing this to Tori right now, and you saw, would you be?”
Her eyes blazed with rage and thunder rolled through the air outside. Throughout the room everything that wasn’t attached to something, including them, lifted several inches from the floor and hovered for long moments before drifting back down.
Eli pulled away, stroking her hair and smiling down at her with a tender smile that baffled her. “I missed you like mad while you were gone. You were in this house for only a handful of days but it was empty when you left,” he whispered softly. “I could have kept on; I could have fucked you last night instead of calling Byron when you were begging for it. Once the bond happens, it cannot be broken.”
She wanted to believe the promise in his eyes.
But she didn’t want to risk it.
And forever was a long time to live on the edge, wondering if he would tire of her. A bond could happen, maybe—but who said he had to love her?
Shrugging his gentle hands away, though her heart melted at his words, she told him “I don’t want to live forever. Not even with a man who can fuck like you.” Then she walked out of the room.
Eli’s heart felt like it had been ripped out, danced on, then sewn back together by somebody who was very inept.
He had called the Council.
Sarel had to be sent to somebody else for training.
She could not stay here.
Very angry when he had informed her that somebody would be coming for her, she had hissed at him, “I didn’t say I wanted a new trainer.”
“I’m afraid, pretty Sarel, you do not have a choice,” Eli informed her coolly, looking up from the spread of documents in front of him. The sun was sinking lower on the horizon and hunger was a dull ache in his belly, but he wasn’t hunting while she was here.
Once he got some business done, he’d call Jonathan. The wolf was always willing to feed him, and then the two of them would, try to discover what was amiss. Locate these wraithlike intruders that came and went with nary a trace.
Though he wasn’t a Hunter in full yet, the lad had something many didn’t have, an instinct Eli rarely encountered. Caris had had that knack…a sad smile tugged at his mouth.
He should have taken Jonathan on as his partner, trained him and saved himself this heartache.
“If you didn’t want me here, then why allow me to come in the first place?” she demanded.
Lifting a blonde brow, Eli replied “I allowed it because I love you and I had hoped you would learn to feel the same for me. It’s obvious, now, it won’t happen, so why torture myself? After all,” he mocked, stifling the hurt her words had caused, “I’m good enough to fuck for a while, but who wants to live forever with me? Byron will be here to collect you by midnight.”
“Byron?” she asked, blushing furiously. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. He loves me? He’d just said it. Openly, easily. But Byron? He was sending Byron to collect her?
“Yes. Another Hunter must take you to the Council until they can decide who can have you. Hunters are valuable, but untrained ones are vulnerable. Tori and Declan are the closest, but they are on assignment and they can’t escort you. Malachi is close by, but he is—unwilling—shall we say. So, Byron it is. Now, I’ve work,” he drawled, dragging his eyes away from her face.
“Eli...”
His temper snapped. “Sarel, go away,” he snarled, sliding his hands under the desk and flinging the heavy oak aside as though it weighed less than air. “You seem to want to make up for what you did, now here’s your bloody chance. Leave here. Now. You will leave me and not come back. Ever. I love you, but I obviously mean nothing to you except a stiff dick. You can find that elsewhere. Now leave me alone.”
Sarel stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. The look in his eyes equaled that of the tortured pain she had seen in his eyes the night she had shot a poisoned arrow into his body for a crime he hadn’t committed. Slowly, grief black and bitter in her heart, she left the room.
“Eli…”
“I said leave,” he rasped. “And if you don’t do it now, I’ll have you dragged out of here, so help me God.”
Crossing to the window, Eli threw it open, and for a moment he almost wished Hollywood had it right. Because if it did, he’d be dead right then as the setting sun shone on him in all its glory. His body going up in flames would be much less painful than this.
Eli felt the tensing in the room only moments before Rafael knocked on the door. The other vampire was growing powerful, very powerful. He was nearing his second century.
Idly, he wondered how long the younger Hunter would be content to remain on a Master’s territory when he was likely able to be a Master of his own territory, his own enclave, able to come and go as he chose.
“Any news on those who dug the pit?”
“I’ve found their scent in town.” Rafe moved slowly into the room, his dark eyes blank, watchful. It had been two days since the young witch had left, and Eli’s temper had not been…reliable.
“We shall go a-hunting then.” Lifting his head, he glanced at Rafe and said, “Is this a one man job or more?”
“Small time, from what I can tell.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, glancing absently around the room, tired, restless, discontent, angry—unsure why.
Eli smiled a little, all too aware of what the younger vamp was feeling. Sighing, he shook his head. And there went another. “We’ll go over what we have then.” It wouldn’t be long before this one was gone as well. They needed to talk, he knew. And soon.
Eli glanced at Rafe with an arched brow.
“A small group of businessmen. You’re ruining their sport.”
Sport. Eli snarled under his breath.
Their sport…the buying and selling of teenaged runaways for the pleasure of being the one to rape them was sport?
One of them was a sorcerer, a talented one, which was how they had managed to detect Eli, and managed to go undetected themselves for some time. As Eli prowled outside the small office just in front of the warehouse while they plotted a way to take another one of his people, Eli’s people, he raged in silence. They dare to harm what is mine—
“…some Exstacy and she’ll be begging for it. Bring a damn high price. She’s got a mouth on her like a porn star, an ass made for a good hard butt-fuck, and her cherry is still there. She’s only thirteen and looks it,” one man said, jerking Eli back to the present. “I’ve got my two most reliable men watching her, making sure she stays in just that condition and I’ve already got a buyer. We just have to keep the local do-gooder away from here in two days. Then we make the sale and we’ll start talking about other places that are less risky to do our business.”
His fangs dropped and the scent of blood was a siren’s call as he stared through the window, focusing on the blood that moved under the man’s skin, pounding within the vessel, beckoning to him.
But there was a girl. Another child to save.
Always another child—
He dragged in air—forcing the cool air into his lungs—clearing his head. There was no child here now, but there had been a young one around this man recently, one still in the bloom of innocence, still fresh. Eli could smell it on him.
For a moment, he was pulled back to another child, Lori, and he thought of Sarel.
&nbs
p; No…there will always be another lost one.
I can’t let each one remind me of her.
Not when I have eternity, and she wants less than a handful of years, and none of them with me.
* * * * *
Malachi stared at Agnes as though the old woman had lost her mind. “I think not,” he replied slowly. “I do not take on students. And if I did, it would not be her.”
“I do not want her as your student. She belongs with Eli. Just take her back to him.”
“Eli doesn’t want her. He sent her away.”
“They are bonded, whether they realize it or not,” the stubborn old witch argued. “He deserves some happiness and she is his only chance. Now, you stubborn old ancient goat of a vampire, do it.”
Only she would dare speak to him like this.
Malachi couldn’t resist the smile that spread over his face. “You’re wrong. And I’m sorry, but he doesn’t want her.”
“He sent her away because she refuses him. She thinks the bond isn’t there. I see it, I know it’s there. If we keep them apart, we will lose them both.” Craftily she said, “We need them both. And he’ll need her soon. He has another…problem. He’s got a knack for finding trouble lately. The kind that would get him killed.”
Malachi stilled, his blood freezing. “You lie.”
“No. And you know that. However, in order to save him, you must save her as well. By the time you find him, he will already be injured. And that means she is injured. They must be together to recover. She will have to feed him to save him and he must be saved in order for her to not die.”
Malachi glared at her. “You old bitch,” he snapped.
The gray haired witch laughed as the handsome vampire left her home, the afternoon sun shining upon his banner of red hair. “I’m still not as old as you,” she called.
He flipped her off.
Sarel dragged her heels.
Malachi ignored her, his fingers locked around his wrist, dragging her from the room the Council had given her for the duration. She had felt their displeasure. Nobody knew what had transpired, exactly.
But none of them blamed Eli.
They blamed her.
Hell, she blamed her.
She figured Malachi could kill her here and now, in the halls, and none of them would save her.
“I’m not here to kill you,” he said.
She gasped. Mind reader?
Casting her a cold look and scanning her from head to toe, he obviously found her lacking. “You may be a witch, but I’m older than the ages, and your powers are nothing to me,” he said.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly, trying to keep up with his long strides.
“Would it frighten you if I said I am your trainer?” he asked maliciously.
“Yes,” she answered bluntly and honestly.
“Good,” he said coldly.
“Are you?” she asked, hating how timid she sounded.
Malachi didn’t answer.
Bastard.
She flinched, knowing he heard her.
Hearing an odd, stifled sound she didn’t dare wonder whether he was laughing at her or trying to suppress a snarl.
Following him meekly, silently, she willed her mind into a blank canvas. Something told her that if he wanted her dead, and decided to follow through, the Council would do little to punish him.
Malachi couldn’t help it—she may have been a mean, dangerous bitch to Eli, but she was an impudent little thing. Hearing the silent Bastard, he couldn’t completely stifle the laugh.
Herding her onto the private plane, he pushed her none too gently into a seat. It had only been two weeks since Eli had sent her away. It was already showing on her and he had to admit, he suspected Agnes was right.
The girl had lost weight, her lovely mellow gold skin had turned sallow, and her eyes were dull.
Which meant Eli wasn’t going to be at his best either.
They had to hurry. Various reports coming in did little to soothe Mal’s temper, or the fear that was lurking just under his skin. A wounded young vamp in Eli’s territory—wounded in a vamp pit. Vamp pits…the wolves would have discovered them, unless a witch was helping to hide the scent.
Questions asked by people whose faces couldn’t be remembered. Aye, something was stalking Eli.
And not just Eli.
Two more Masters, one in France, one in Canada had been suffering similar problems and not reporting them. One finally reported it last week. One would not be reporting at all. That Master, the one from France, ah well, Malachi knew that Agnes was going to her wake tomorrow. She was traveling to Scotland to bid her farewell to the vampire. Sabine Delacroix had fallen to a weapon no vampire could escape. Her house had been torched at noon, and when she had tried to flee with the help of two of the shifters who had come to her aid, they had all been shot down.
“What do you mean, she’s not in England?” Eli asked wearily. He pushed a hand through his hair, cursing the weariness that had plagued him the past few weeks.
He’d just wanted to see how she was…just to make sure she was okay. He hadn’t needed to talk to her. But nobody would give him any news.
And now this?
“Byron, damn it, would you tell me what is going on?”
“Hell if I know, Eli.” On the other end of the line, Byron sighed. “Agnes told me to take her to Excelsior. I’m just a peon. I follow orders.”
“Why Excelsior? She doesn’t need training,” Eli muttered. Fuck, he missed her. He shouldn’t have been so rash…should have taken more time. With everything. “She was supposed to go to the Council, not back to school.”
“She’s not at school. At least not anymore,” Byron said, keeping his voice level. “Malachi has her. Agnes has paired her with him.”
Malachi…
Hours later, Eli still couldn’t believe it. He wandered through the streets as he circled around the house where the girl was supposed to be sold.
Elijah felt the bitter anger work through him and had to shove it aside, it exhausted him so. “Not while I breathe,” he swore softly, peering at the warehouse. Still quiet.
Malachi. What the fuck was she doing with Malachi?
Shit.
Fuck.
Wrong choice of words.
Because then he imagined them fucking. And he wasn’t sure he could forgive his old friend if he had laid his hands on Sarel’s golden body. Byron was one thing. Byron was younger than Eli, and Eli was a stronger Master, more dominant. But Malachi—
Eli whirled and punched the wall, his fist going through the brick, pain lashing up his arm.
Sarel felt the pain tear up her arm and she cried out, staring down at the unmarred skin.
Malachi was at her side instantly, staring down at her hand. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected the concern in his eyes wasn’t all for her.
Still nothing. Eli narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right. Too quiet there. There was little sound of life inside the warehouse...little movement. Too dark, too still.
The unease starting to prickle down his skin and he almost backed away, listening to three hundreds year of instinct.
But he moved forward, out of the darkness, out of the shadows, and he crossed the street and stalked into the warehouse, unaware that he was being watched. He heard the snick as the door locked behind him, but it was too late. When the fire broke out, he was almost relieved. He would have just sat down and let it happen if he hadn’t seen Jonathan and Lori, Sarel’s little sister tied and bound in the middle of the room, unconscious, helpless, while the fire blazed around them.
Somebody had rigged the warehouse with small bombs. He should have smelled the ingredients they had used. He would have if he hadn’t been so tired, so distracted.
But if he had, he wouldn’t have come in and Jonathan and Lori would have died. Lori had just come to him, only a few months before Sarel had been sent to him, wanting to be his Healer in the small enclave that was growing within
his territory. He had accepted, thinking it would be one more thing to draw Sarel to him in time. He had accepted, thus he had placed her in harm’s way.
Launching himself at them as one of the devices behind him exploded Eli lifted them both and ran for the stairs. The humans would be watching the ground floor windows, but from the upper floor, maybe he’d have a chance.
He came out on top of the warehouse and crouched over them, taking the bullets that came from the right into his own body.
Sarel screamed as pain ripped through her. What was going on?
Malachi crouched by her side, sending silent commands to the driver, following Eli’s scent. He knew his old friend and could find him quickly—he only hoped it was quick enough. They had landed moments after Sarel had experienced that first odd pain in her hand and Malachi had hoped they might find him before anything else happened.
That was when it spiraled out of control.
They came to a building that was burning and he ordered the driver to stop. He shifted and reformed into his mortal form on top of the house, taking the one who was shooting at Eli and casually breaking his neck, letting none of his rage show.
Taking the unconscious pair in his arms, he jumped the two stories down and put them in the car. Shifting again to mist, Malachi reformed at Eli’s side and took the bleeding body of his friend in his arms to assess the damage.
It was nearly total.
Malachi felt his throat close with grief, his jaws ache with rage. Bullets flew around him and he dropped his shields, sending out a paralyzing fear. A vampire should have a focus, a face in mind, somebody he knew...but Malachi could do many things a vampire shouldn’t have been able to do.
The Hunters Series Page 26