by Karen Monroe
Well, this went as expected. Cowan’s voice intruded into Tylan's mind.
Nodding in concurrence, Tylan watched the group progress toward the doorway, his eyes narrowed. I do not trust the man. His posturing seemed too contrived.
Agreed, my Lord.
Shaking his head, Tylan turned away, eager to leave. His eyes drifted to the frightened, tearful stare of Marissa, and he sighed loudly. “I am sorry you had to be exposed to this, sena.”
“Let’s just get out of here, Tylan,” she whispered. “This place makes my blood run…”
A large explosion rocked the building. Debris rained down from the ceilings and walls, bodies went flying.
Screams echoed in the distance, grunts and sounds of terror.
The chandelier hanging above teetered precariously, before crashing down to the meeting table, shards of glass spraying dangerously about.
Tylan could smell the acrid scent of burnt flesh. Wrapping his arms around Marissa, he tumbled them to floor, rolling his body to cover hers protectively, shielding their heads.
His eyes burned from the smoke hanging in the air, but through the haze, he could see Drakken’s dead body, lying in what was left of the door, in a pool of dark, rich blood.
Swarms of assassins rushed in, trampling dead bodies under their feet. The large posse of men brandished guns and knives, and his first thought was for Marissa’s safety.
Yelling above the loud din, he motioned quickly toward Keanan. “GET HER OUT OF HERE!”
His brother reacted without hesitation, pulling a stunned Marissa to her feet, wrapping his arms around her slim body in a protective gesture.
Using preternatural strength, Keanan jumped through the air, flying high above the chaos ensuing below. When he landed, he was on the other side of the table, close to the doorway. Before anyone in the room had a chance to react, he went flying through the halls, away from the violence.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Marissa held on for dear life, as Keanan ran up the stairs. He was moving so fast the candles whizzed by like jet streams of light. Before she knew it, they were outside, and he was settling her to the pavement.
Breathing hard, she tried to look around, but all she could see were visions of Brian’s mutilated body lying dead on the table. Her legs began to tremble, and she doubled over, falling to her knees to keep the nausea at bay. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Fear quaked through her, twisting her insides like a tree caught in a tornado. Bile welled in her throat, and she gagged repeatedly.
“Are you all right, Marissa? Have you been injured?”
“N-no. I’m f-fine,” she stammered, her teeth chattering as she tried to focus on the hard, gray ground beneath her. “Ty-Tylan. The-the oth-ers. They’re st-stil in-side.”
“I know, but you must relax, Marissa. You’re going into shock.” Keanan paused, and the air around them stirred, like feet running next to them. “Bring the vehicles around. Now.”
“My Lord, what happened?!” A faceless voice called out above her.
“It was as my brother expected, Arvlin. An ambush. Gather the warriors. We’re going in.”
Although a part of her was conscious of the world around her, Marissa couldn’t stop the chills from racking her body. She couldn’t stop herself from falling deeper and deeper into the black abyss, visions of death and destruction flashing over and over in her mind. A cold sweat broke out all over. Her arms glistened with moisture.
“Marissa,” Keanan pulled her roughly to her feet. “Calm yourself! Breathe. Breathe for me, sister. Don’t give up on me.”
“Th-they killed him. He-he was dead. Th-they ripped…” Marissa tried to finish her words, but the gory scene behind her eyes had her stumbling away from Keanan.
“Yes, Marissa. He’s dead. He died painfully, but it’s not your fault. You are not to blame for his death.” Marissa stiffened as arms came around her. “Let it go, sister. Let it go. Don’t think of it any longer.”
Seconds later, she felt herself being lifted, as the squeal of tires bounced through her eardrums. Velvet cushions comforted her back, and cool air breezed across her skin, sending goosebumps along her flesh. Keanan leaned toward her suddenly, bringing his thumb and index finger to clasp the bridge of her nose.
Words echoed through her mind, and moments later she felt a sense of calm stealing through her body.
“Stay here in the car. Whatever happens,” Keanan gritted, before shutting the door with a slam.
Leaning back against the pillowed seats, Marissa pulled her knees to her chest, trying to keep the warmth from seeping from her body. She didn’t know what Keanan had done, but whatever it was the chills rioting through her were gradually lessening.
Turning her head, she looked out the tinted window of the limousine to see Keanan gesturing to a large group of warriors. The harsh light from the street lamp made the angles of his face appear harsh with grimness. His mouth moved fast and quick, as he pointed toward the car, five tall warriors nodding rapidly at whatever instruction he gave.
Marissa wished could hear what was going on, but a loud clamor still rang in her ears.
Her hands trailed along the cool glass as she watched Keanan and the others run back into the building.
Dread lumped in her throat.
Afraid for Tylan, Cowan, and Omea, Marissa hoped they got to them in time. She vividly remembered the horde of dangerous, deadly looking men leaping through the blown-apart doorway, as all hell had broken loose.
Tylan, for all his strength, wouldn’t survive the lethal odds, none of them would.
Closing her eyes, she tried to reach for her mate, needing the assurance of his mental presence, but there was no response. It was like reaching out into the blank void of space.
Tremors raced through her body as she thought of him dead, the morbidity of her imagination replacing the lifeless corpse of Brian with the head of the man she loved. Tears gathered in her eyes, her lips moved in prayer.
“God, please, please save him,” she whispered.
Over and over, haunting and frightening scenes of Tylan’s death, his body lying cold and still, careened through her mind. It seemed so unfair. Her life hadn’t been bleak before he entered, but he’d brought a fullness that would never be replaced. Whimpering in frustration, she glanced around tearfully at the luxurious interior of the limousine.
She sat alone, awaiting the outcome of her life, while others fought and died. She wasn’t a warrior. She had no training in combat of any kind, but she wanted to leap from the car, run upstairs and fight beside her mate. Again, she prayed Keanan and the other warriors would reach them in time. She didn’t even want to imagine life without the man she loved.
Suddenly, the door to the limousine opened, bringing in a draft of cold, smoggy air, and the faint light from the street lamp above. Startled, Marissa half hoped it would be Tylan, even though she knew Keanan and the warriors had just left minutes ago.
Looking up, she frowned into a pair of rich, chocolate brown eyes.
“I know you.”
* * * *
Tylan pulled his blade from the neck of the man in front of him, ignoring the blood spraying down his shirt. Twisting rapidly, his foot connected with a new oncomer, and he sent him careening backwards. A hand grabbed his right shoulder. He reached for it, ducked, and flung the man over his back.
Turning, he saw a new horde coming at him, rushing like a pack of wild dogs. Using the power of his mind, Tylan leapt across the room, landing behind them. The advantage now on his side, he quickly ran through the group, slicing with his seventeen inch, double-edged knife, until there weren’t any left standing.
Shifting his gaze, he saw Cowan a little ways off, engaged in his own knife fight.
Moving through the masses, his blade cutting like butter through the skin of those that opposed him, he protected his friend’s back, all the while, keeping a sharp eye out for Omea.
He knew the female warrior could take care of herself, bu
t in this swarm, there were only three people who he counted as friends. He didn’t have time to sort out who was fighting on whose side. Anyone who came at him was considered an enemy.
The air around him changed. Small gusts of wind whipped through his hair. Turning rapidly, he prepared for the new threat, and was slightly caught off guard as an extremely large Vampire misted in front of him.
Staring down the barrel of a Desert Eagle, Tylan had no choice but to block the man by catching him full on in the solar plexus with his shoulder, tumbling him to the floor. Grabbing the long barrel of the gun with his right hand, he fisted his left, smashing it directly into the man’s chest. His nails clawed, he pushed through bone and flesh, grabbed the heart, and ripped it clean from the breastplate.
“Never bring a gun to a knife fight,” he muttered, clenching his hand to obliterate the still beating organ.
“I think you’re having too much fun!”
Tylan smirked, as he rose from the ground in the blink of an eye, tossing a chuckle over his shoulder at Cowan. “I’m just biding my time till the back up arrives.”
Cowan gave a hearty laugh before grunting in pain.
“That’s what you get for trying to talk and fight at the same time!” He wanted to take a second to grin at his friend, but a young fool in front of him thought to challenge him.
Alone.
Shaking his head at the scamp, who didn’t even think to bring a weapon, Tylan angled his body around until his back was flush against the torso. Placing one hand beneath the chin of the simpleton, and his knee on back of his thighs, he snapped his spine in two pieces, watching dispassionately as the body dropped like a stone.
“You should have brought a gun to a knife fight. Now it’s too late.”
Loud terrified screams echoed about the hall, bodies began flying everywhere, or rather body parts began flying everywhere.
I think the cavalry has arrived. Cowan spoke in his mind.
Turning his gaze toward what was left of the entryway, he could see his warriors streaming through, berserk rage lining their faces. Armed to the teeth, with swords, knives and guns, they made short work of any who dared to oppose them.
A loud, final gunshot rang out, and within moments the room was silent.
As Tylan walked through the carnage alone, kicking at bodies here and there, he used his booted foot to turn the limp corpses over and look at their faces. Shaking his head at the treachery, he recognized many of them as Committee guards.
“Tylan, I think there’s something you need to see.”
He turned, startled by Keanan. “Did you get Marissa to safety?”
“Yes. I left warriors to guard her.”
Nodding at his brother, an image of his love appeared in his mind, her eyes full of tears, pain clouding her gaze. A part of him wanted to reach out to her, soothe her, but he kept his mind blocked, not wanting to taint her with sights of gore and destruction.
Sighing, he stared at Keanan, tiredness invading his soul. “What is it?”
“You need to see this for yourself.”
Frowning at the cryptic words, he followed his brother through the large chamber, stepping over bodies as they walked. His gaze roaming through the room, he glanced at the scattered and broken chairs.
Shards of wooden splinters mixed with pools of blood. The only piece of furniture standing upright was the large, black meeting table, the symbol of the Committee.
Its face marred with cracks, the once shiny surface had now lost of all of its luster.
Moving around the longer edge, he spied Mikel and Cowan standing next to a corner. Omea stood off at a distance, a hard look of vengeance stamped on her face.
Tylan already knew what he was going to see. “How did he die?” he asked, staring down at the lifeless, pale figure of Lucian.
“A knife to the back. He didn’t even have a chance to fight,” Mikel answered, his voice laced with fury. “I found him like this. He was supposed to be taken to the safeway.”
Shaking his head, Tylan stared at the partially opened door. The Committee kept such passageways in all their locations, the concealed entrances and exits were supposed to guard against events like what had happened tonight. If someone had known of the secret then it had to be someone close to either Drakken or Lucian.
Scowling, Tylan turned around, looking across the room toward the main entrance. “Where is Draco?”
“He was right beside his father when the explosion happened. But he wasn’t injured,” Cowan answered. “I saw him for a moment, but … I never did see him during the battle.”
“The coward,” Mikel grunted. “He would leave his own father blown to bits to run away…”
Tylan raised his hand, silencing Mikel’s tirade.
Something Drakken had said during the meeting niggled at the back of conscious.
My son found this human after trailing someone you had taken into your confidence. If you seek to blame anyone, then it’s your head it should be heaped upon. You enlisted the aid of that rogue half breed to do your dirty work.
Tylan had never believed Gabriel had killed Litchfield. He was definitely capable, but the style of murder was all wrong. Besides, there was no way Draco could have ever been able to follow the half breed. He was too smart for that. He’d been eluding the Vampires and Lycans trained to kill him since birth. The Committee itself had outlawed any contact.
Draco couldn’t have known about Gabriel.
Suddenly, Omea’s words tumbled into his mind.
Someone, an … Eritrean had to be helping him. There is no other explanation.
There were only three people in the whole kingdom who knew of his relationship with the half breed. Tylan dismissed the warriors present at the institute, because even at that time, no one had seen Gabriel do more than shift into mist. They would have thought him a regular vampire.
Tylan’s gaze lighted on Cowan, and he knew it wasn’t him.
Shifting his eyes, he looked toward Omea. He knew it wasn’t her either.
That only left one other person.
“Kefar.”
CHAPTER FORTY
“Well, my Lady, I think it’s time you and I had a proper introduction.”
Marissa struggled against the ropes binding her hands and feet. “We’ve already met, remember?” she gritted.
“Yes, but that wasn’t a proper introduction. We exchanged pleasantries at your reception. We still haven’t really met. This is the perfect opportunity for us to rectify the matter.”
In her mind she tried to reach for Tylan, but her senses felt dull and weak. Gritting her teeth, she stared at Kefar. “I don’t want to know you,” she grunted. “It’s obvious what type of person you are.”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “Are you trying to contact Tylan?” he asked, shaking his head and laughing at her, the heat of his breath washing against her skin. “Try all you want, Marissa. It’ll do you no good. We’re inside of a xerilon barrier. Nothing gets in or out. So, now that that’s out of the way, tell me what type of person you think I am.”
“A Loser. Does that sum it up for you?” she muttered, flinching as a nerve pinched in her wrist.
The thick wire chords binding her body were tied in such a way that is was nearly impossible to move. Her arms and legs were strapped behind her, making her back arch at an awkward angle. Lying on her side on the cold, hard floor, her face was pressed against the unyielding surface.
Kefar’s eyes flashed brightly. “Now, that’s not very nice, especially considering all I have done for you.”
Marissa grimaced as more soreness shot up her arm. “You haven’t done shit, Kefar, except kidnap me and tie me up!”
“Well, yes. I have done that. But that’s not all that I’ve done.” Kefar walked toward her. Kneeling, he wrenched her head back, grabbing onto her hair roughly. “Had it not been for me, you would have never discovered the delaphin, nor met your precious Tylan.”
Flinching against the sharp pain i
n her scalp, she kept her gaze steady, refusing to show any fear.
“You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? You never found the delaphin, Marissa. I led her right to you.” Kefar dropped her head suddenly, and her face smacked against the surface. Warm blood filled her mouth. “Don’t you remember, the dolphins washing ashore? Why do you think five pods would suddenly beach themselves for no apparent reason? I know you’re smart, Marissa. Answer the question. Why do you think the pods beached themselves?”
“Because you forced them,” she said, her words clipped with anger.
“Ah… Force is the wrong word. There was no coercion involved. To the lesser mammals we are Gods. I simply asked them to do it.”
“So you preyed on something weaker than yourself. That sounds like a coward to me,” she spat, drops of blood spilled on her lips.
Kefar laughed. “A coward? That’s very harsh, Marissa. I did what was necessary. I knew the death of the creatures would intrigue your intellect. Stir your compassionate nature.”
“You don’t know anything about me!”
“But, I do.” Kefar waved a hand around. “Why do you think I chose this institute? I watched you for months, Marissa. I knew your habits. Your likes and dislikes.” His leering gaze lighted onto her face. “I knew things you didn’t even know yourself.” A cold finger trailed along her lips, wiping away the bits of blood. “You remember that time on the boat? You knew I was there. You knew I was watching.”
Marissa recalled the feeling, the tingling awareness in the back of her mind. She had thought someone was there. She couldn’t deny it. But her blood ran cold at the thought of him watching her at other times. A shiver passed down her spine, as she looked into his eyes.
“Let me go, Kefar. You already have what you want.”
“Not yet, but soon I will.”
“Let me go!” she screamed, struggling once more, futilely trying to free her limbs. Her wrist felt raw from the effort, but she refused to give up.
“You’ll only hurt yourself if you continue, my Lady.”