The older man gave him a smug look. “Then you and Valeria ride off into the sunset and make lovely babies? You’ll never be welcome here again, either of you. Even if they’re foolish enough to let you walk.”
“We’ll see.” Unfortunately, Blake had a point. Valeria might find her welcome here thin if she stuck with Griff, even if the mages acquitted him.
“The arresting mages said you told her you loved her before you flashed her away. If that’s true, you should put her before yourself. Confess. Admit you killed willfully, conspired to bring demons through, that you tampered with the chair wards so they showed your lies as truth. I’ll see you out of the country, give you a new start anywhere you choose.”
“Geez, Blake, how powerful do you think I am? More to the point, how powerful have you convinced them I am?”
Blake was attempting to influence a witness. Where were the guards, that he would risk this conversation? Did he have them in his pocket?
Blake’s smile was sinister. “You’re strong enough to evade capture for six years, strong enough to send Valeria farther than the mage perimeter around that demon gate, strong enough to touch the orb and walk away sane. They’ll believe.”
“Maybe the gullible ones.” The ankle chain dampened Griff’s precog along with his magic, but he didn’t need it to know something was very wrong here. With no magic, no mobility, no weapons, he had the fighting chance of a fish in a barrel.
“Sign a confession, and I’ll fix her life. And yours.”
Give up, when all he’d longed for was within reach?
Griff let his grin erupt. “No deal. I’ll have your ass for breakfast. ‘And your little dog, too.’”
“Your mistake, Dare.” Staring at Griff with cold, sharkish eyes, Blake said, “You won’t see breakfast.”
The ward dropped. Mitch Jacobs, Corin’s brother, stepped into view, and sizzling blue energy shot from his sword.
Griffin. Griffin, please.
Valeria’s voice knifed through the fog in Griff’s head. Wake up. Wake up, and tell us where you are. Griffin!
He struggled to focus. I’m awake. Shackled. Duct tape on my mouth—nothing like the tried and true, I guess.
He felt, rather than heard, her gasp as her relief washed over him. Don’t joke. I felt them blast you. They must’ve had the cell ward down. I ran to the jail, but you were gone. Where’s ‘here’? What happened?
Blake offered me a suck-ass deal. I refused. Now I’m in a van. On the floor. That reeve from the other night, Parker, two mages I don’t know, blond man, sandy-haired woman.
He would pound them all to fucking paste, then do the same to Blake. He’d damned well had it with being knocked around. Being shackled. Having his life generally screwed with. Shit, I smell ghoul.
Her chilled reaction rippled through the bond. Can you tell where you are? Where you’re headed?
Not yet…wait. We’re stopping. Don’t know where. Whatever happens, know I love you.
I love you, too. Valeria’s spiking anxiety washed through him. Silent support came with it.
Light shone into the van. Pole lights. Voices in that direction, too. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing. If he could catch them off guard, maybe he’d have a chance.
His captors hauled him out, carted him about ten feet, and dropped him on the ground. He managed not to tense. That shoulder would hurt tomorrow, though. If he lived to see another day.
“You sure you know how to do this?” someone behind him asked.
Griff opened his eyes to slits but didn’t see anyone. The buildings around him looked familiar, but the angles seemed strange, the perspective…because he’d never seen it from inside. Now he recognized the ghoul nest near Vidalia.
“No mage has been drained in three hundred years, and never less than fatally,” Parker’s voice said, “but we’ll have a go. What the hell—we kill him, one less for you to worry about.”
Fuck that. Valeria, ghoul compound outside Vidalia.
Coming as soon as we can get a chopper. I sent Stefan after Gene.
Through the bond, he sensed her reaching for a phone, felt her gratitude for his worried friends gathered around her, all in combat gear. They’d come as soon as they could.
Meanwhile, he locked the bond down tight. If this went bad, he didn’t want her feeling it. Besides, there was always a chance his captors might screw it up, give him a way to break free.
He tested his shackles. No give. Hell.
Valeria’s tension, her fear and haste, teased his mind even with their bond locked down. She couldn’t arrive in time to help, though. No way. Live or die, he was on his own.
He opened his eyes. His mage captors stood over him in a ring of ghouls.
Bastards.
“Hey, cutie.” The mage woman set a small, wooden chest on the ground a few feet from him. With a tip-tilted nose, bow mouth, and sandy curls, she might’ve been attractive if she hadn’t been in league with the enemy.
“Hope you don’t mind an audience,” Parker said.
When Parker bent over Griff’s bound feet, Griff lifted them fast, shot them into the traitor’s gut. Parker landed on his ass, but the other man pinned Griff onto his back.
Swearing, Parker chained Griff’s shackled ankles to a wooden stake. It set up a tooth-grinding hum in the base of his spine, in the root chakra, the energy center that connected his power to the Earth, to nature. He couldn’t feel the life forces around him anymore.
To cut him off that way, the stake had to come from a tree of power but with the wood dead, killed in some vile way.
They pounded another stake into the ground above his head, and pain lanced into the top of his skull. Tasting ammonia, he fought the pain. The stress was probably hiking his blood venom level up. He hadn’t recharged in three days.
Now they’d disrupted the second crown chakra, his connection to the larger universe and the dimension where magic lay. Blocking those two energy centers effectively crippled him.
Shit. He forced his breathing to settle. Tried to think. He needed only a tiny break. Then they were all dead.
“Be sure you don’t damage him.” An older male ghoul spoke from behind the woman. He looked to be in his sixties, far older than most ghouls lived to be.
Weird, but Griff had bigger problems.
The ghoul continued, “Our deal was for breeding stock. Even if you have to stop short of draining him, we want him functional. We can always leech his energy periodically, as we do with other mage breeders, to keep him in line.”
“Nope,” Parker replied. “We got orders to see he can’t ever be a threat again.”
No way in hell he would breed for the ghouls. He’d kill himself first. He tried putting a tendril of power into the shackles. Nothing.
The woman smirked down at him. “The Dares have bred powerful mages for seven hundred years. He’s functional.”
Just let him get loose for a second. He’d show her how functional he was by kicking her ass into Canada.
“See that he stays that way.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Parker said. “You remember we get the first whelp he sires. Sue, get on with it.”
The traitors were swapping mages for babies? Why?
The woman opened the chest while the men tied down Griff’s bound arms. She pulled a green, cantaloupe-size orb—crystal, by the way it glinted in the light—from the chest.
“Parker.” She tossed it to him.
Holding the orb, he stood at Griff’s left shoulder.
She handed a magenta one to the other man. As he walked to Griff’s right shoulder, she took position at Griff’s head. She held an indigo orb directly over his brow, over the chakra they called the third eye, the seat of his magic.
Oh, hell no.
The three built power in the orbs. It crackled between the spheres, echoed in Griff’s body. He gritted his teeth, straining against the bonds. The traitors had pinned him well.
The spheres floated out of the mages’ hands. Ea
ch rotated, gaining speed, until suddenly they whirled around as a group, like planets orbiting above Griff’s head. Power flashed into the center of their circle, crashed into a rainbow.
The brilliant light stabbed into Griff’s forehead like a rainbow lance. He cried out in agony behind the gag. Blind and deaf, he arched, thrashed, but couldn’t escape it.
Burning pain ripped through his head, then spiked down to his heels. Along the way, it seared his skin as though peeling it from his bones.
It dug hot, sharp talons into his head and yanked. His blood ignited, then rushed to his head. Griff screamed.
Valeria!
Everything inside him twisted in a violent wrench, and then the world went black.
Chapter 24
Val crouched in the bushes outside the Vidalia nest with Will, Stefan, and the rest of Griffin’s team. The handful she’d met at Tasha’s cabin had been rounded out by eight others. The place looked quiet, but fear beat a constant pulse in her gut. An hour ago, a rush of agony had shattered her bond with Griffin, and then he was gone. The total silence in the bond, the emptiness, scared her down to her toenails.
“Griff will skin me if anything happens to you,” Will murmured.
“Got it.” She shot him a grateful look. He and his comrades shared her determination to think positively about Griffin’s fate unless forced to do otherwise.
Will continued softly, “Don’t make me sorry I agreed to this Trojan horse idea, even if it is our best shot.”
“It’ll work,” Lorelei said quietly. “It has to.”
Stefan gripped Val’s shoulder. “I’ll find you as soon as I can. You or Griff may need me.”
“Thanks, Stefan. Everybody ready?” Val glanced around the group and got a series of nods. “Then let’s do this.”
Heart pounding, she stepped clear of the bushes.
The ghouls would surely suspect a trick when she walked up to the gate, but they’d probably let her in. They could always use another mage captive. Once she freed Griffin, they would breach the nest defenses from behind, opening the way for the rest of the team.
Still, the ghouls would be crazy not to shoot her up with enough venom to cripple her. If venom sickness overwhelmed her, she wouldn’t be able to rescue Griffin or smash the front gate, so she’d tried Stefan’s prototype vaccine.
She couldn’t tell whether the drug was having any effect. The queasiness might be nerves.
She also had an injector for Griffin. He might already be dead, but as long as there was hope, she and his team would fight for him. She wouldn’t let these ghouls stand between him and a new life. He deserved better than he’d had the past six years.
Too bad the idiotic Council had refused to trust the information he’d given her through the bond. They had Gene under house arrest in his quarters, no more. But that would change when she brought Griffin home.
If only she could sense him, let him know she was coming.
She didn’t bother to shield, didn’t let her stride falter as she stepped into the lights, into the cleared kill zone around the fencing. The nest was a typical one—a scattering of bungalows and a long, low, mostly windowless building that likely held offices and the breeding rooms. Ghouls didn’t give their breeding stock windows. Why risk an avenue of potential escape?
No one challenged her, no one fired. So far, so good. She stopped about six feet from the gate and centered herself. Showtime. Building power in her hands, she crashed them together in an explosion of red light that sent a thunderclap echoing off the buildings.
The doors flew open and ghouls peered out.
Val planted her fists on her hips. “Hurry it up, before I lose my temper.”
Please, please do not open fire.
About two dozen male and female ghouls gathered ten feet inside the gate. A sixty-ish, graying male, very old for his kind, strode toward her. “You’re on private property. Leave.”
“I’m Valeria Banning,” she snapped, enjoying the ripple of dismay that ran over their faces, “but you damned well know who I am. I’ve come for Griffin Dare.”
“You’re in the wrong place.” The man sounded and looked calm, but with a snide edge to his words. “We’re not holding anyone.”
“Yeah, yeah, and the people in that long shed over there volunteered to breed your charming young.” Good tone, hard, not showing the fear that gnawed at her insides. “Cut the crap, give me Dare, and we’ll leave. No harm done.”
His eyes narrowed. “Walk away, bitch, or die.”
“That’s ‘mage bitch’ to you.” As he knew perfectly well. Yet here she stood, unharmed so far. Because of Gene? “I know you’ve got some kind of deal with Gene Blake. I don’t care. All I want is Dare.”
“There’s no one here—”
“Bullshit. We’re bonded. I can sense him.” If only.
A younger female, brunette and slim, came out of one of the sheds. She whispered something to the man.
He smiled, sort of the way a cobra might. “Perhaps you’d like to come in and talk this over?”
Not as much as she’d like to kill them all and free their prisoners, but that would have to wait. Val nodded. “That’s more like it.”
She had to keep her face impassive, hide the dread curdling her blood. They opened the gate. Crunch time. Either the vaccine worked, or it didn’t. She walked through the opening.
“Right this way,” the man said.
She started after him. Suddenly there was a flicker of movement. Val wheeled toward it but didn’t shield. She couldn’t start a fight when she needed them to take her inside.
Someone’s claws stabbed into her neck. Venom flooded from the wound down her arms, into her body. Gagging, shivering, and tasting ammonia, Val sagged into the arms of a stocky, blond male.
“No offense,” he said. “Just a little shot to keep you in hand while we sort this out.”
The vaccine wasn’t working. If anything, she felt sicker than before, but they hadn’t sucked her power. She still had a chance as long as they didn’t search her and find the injector.
Her captor and the older male exchanged a look she couldn’t read.
Something else weird about that older one—something wrong. Too much venom in her to sort it out, though.
The younger male carried her into the nearest building, the breeding shed. If they had Griffin, he was here somewhere.
Hurrying ahead of them, a female opened the door. The male carried Val into a small room with a padded leather table like the ones in doctors’ examining rooms. No other furniture but a toilet and a sink. Nothing that could be used as a weapon.
He dumped her on the table and told the woman, “Strap her down. Stay with her while I call our contact and see what the hell this is about.”
Val struggled, but the woman soon had her wrists and ankles secured to the table. “You look like good breeding stock.” She stroked light fingers over Val’s belly. “Our nest could use a mage womb.”
Shivering, Val closed her eyes and tried to draw power. If she didn’t break free, the team would have to charge the nest’s defenses.
She would…Wait. She wasn’t feeling sick or cold, only a little unsettled in the stomach. The ammonia taste was gone. The vaccine had worked, so it should help Griffin, too.
She peeked through her eyelashes. Her guard looked bored, was examining her nails. Val sent a tendril of power to the strap at her ankle.
It gave. Oh, yeah, she was going to do some serious head breaking. She had to be quick, though. She drew power from the life energy in the forest outside and burst the straps.
The ghoul looked up, mouth dropping open. Val flung herself off the table. Her hand shot for the woman’s throat, and squeezed. No screaming.
The ghoul clawed at her face. Only Val’s quick jerk backward saved her eyes. “Morere,” Val snapped, feeding power into her throat hold. “Morere.”
The ghoul slumped. The light in her eyes faded. Val eased her silently to the floor and slipped through t
he door. To be on the safe side, she tried to shield. Her power sputtered, providing only a feeble glimmer of protection. That weakness had to be a side effect of the vaccine. She’d have to tell Stefan.
Opening her senses, she found no one in the corridor, and—hallelujah!—the doors had names on them. Now to find Griffin. Anyone else came second this time around. Benfield. Marshall. Delaney—
Outside, something exploded. The building shook, and she stumbled against the wall. Shouts rang out, then more explosions. Will had decided not to wait, was moving in. To buy her time?
Solomon. Orser. Dare! But she caught no hint of his magic. She laid her hand on the doorknob and opened her senses, felt only one person inside. Please let it be him, she thought, and burst through the door.
He lay strapped to a padded table, and her heart seized. He still wore the gray prisoner jumpsuit. Lines of pain marked his face, and his skin looked jaundiced.
Val shut the door. “Griffin?”
He turned his head toward her, eyes closed, and made a faint, wordless sound. Val hurried to lay a hand on his cheek. It was clammy, a bad sign. “Griffin, love. I’m here with your team. We’re getting you out.”
Still no sense of his mind. She brushed her lips over his. His breath held a hint of ammonia that made her shudder. Even when his blood venom levels were high, she’d never smelled that on him, never tasted it. She reached into her undies and drew out the injector Stefan had given her.
“It’s going to be all right, Griffin. It will.” The stuff had worked for her. Surely it would for him. She set the point against his carotid, as instructed, and pushed the plunger.
His body jerked. He coughed. “Sick,” he groaned, shuddering, his head thrashing. “Val…babe—”
He knew her, surely a good sign. Val sliced his straps magically and helped him to his feet. “Come on, there’s a toilet. Just a few steps.”
His knees buckled. He sagged against her. Bracing him, she gripped his waist. He groaned again. His fingers on her shoulder tightened. Dug in. What—
He straightened to slam his fist into her ribs.
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