Varick’s frown deepened as he watched Alexander gather the teeth into his hand and place them in the center of the table. With each kill came a token. Werewolves left canine teeth, witches left five pointed star pendants, and vampires left small round orbs.
More vampires, more witches, and more werewolves than ever before meant the tables were turning, and the balance of good and evil had shifted to evil’s side. Varick could only hope Payne and Apoc had better news.
Apoc’s chair shimmered, and he appeared. First as vapor, then slowly his solid form came into view. Part human and part Fae, Apoc baffled most with his dark beauty. Apoc could have cared less about his looks. And to the Destroyers’ good fortune, Apoc was a follower and loyal beyond compare.
Alexander tapped his fingers on the table. “How many?”
Apoc leaned forward. “More than ever before.”
Alexander ran a hand through his blond hair and gritted his teeth. “Did you rid this world of all of them?”
“You can bet your sweet ass I did.”
“Were they all witches, or were there humans among them?”
“Ten witches and seven humans. And I found two vampires among them. The witches were letting them feed on three of the humans.”
Apoc slung ten star pendants and two orbs onto the table. The pendants glowed red as Alexander picked them up.
Witches were heartless and brutally hated men — any men, including the Destroyers — but there was one exception to that rule — their male god, Damon. Why they were now harboring vampires was a damn good question.
“Why would they feed the vampires? It doesn’t make sense. They have always been mortal enemies. Every one of us knows witches hate them. So what gives?” Apoc looked at Alexander. “Well, what does Gyth say on it?”
Alexander shrugged. “He’s not sure what’s going on.”
“Oh, just great! The almighty Gyth don’t have an answer. Well, we’ll just have to kill ’em all and ask questions later. Aye, ’tis a bad omen. If they combine their forces, they could pick us off like flies.” Apoc scratched his chin and sighed. “We need more Destroyers. Gyth is going to have to get up off of his arse and give us a hand.”
Alexander nodded. “True, we do need more Destroyers but we must make do with what we have for now.”
Varick shifted uneasily in his chair as the other Destroyers all looked at him, their eyes narrowing. He wasn’t in the mood for the conversation he knew was coming.
“You need to mate soon,” Alexander stated a little uneasily. “It’s time to let the beast choose a female.”
“I will when I’m fucking ready, and you assholes can stay out of it.”
He did not need to be reminded of what was happening inside his Destroyer body. He growled in outrage and turned to the blonde woman carrying their beer.
Pathetic human! I would kill such a weakling in my heat. Why in the hell did Alexander always bed such weak woman? Maybe he likes his women timid and inferior. They have to be strong to withstand me.
“Here’s your first round. Shifts are changing soon, so make sure you tell the waitress what you like. She’s new.” The woman smiled and toyed with her hair.
She turned and winked as she skirted to the door in the farthest corner of the bar. As she opened the door, Varick sat up in his chair and turned his head. The scent that wafted out of the door was raw, delicious woman. Vanilla and musk overwhelmed his keen senses.
He had not smelled such a woman in over five hundred years. Good God, he was turned on by the scent alone. He choked his desire down as the door closed behind the blonde.
The curse under his breath went unheard, but when he looked up, Apoc was staring at him with an amused grin on his face.
Bastard! Couldn’t a man have a damn secret every once in a while? Fuck, no. Not when you ran around with a bunch of telepathic, empathic assholes.
Varick broke the silence at the table. “Has anyone heard from Eli?”
Apoc shook his head. “I picked up on him a couple days ago, but it was a weak connection. One thing is for sure — he isn’t in any mind to stop by for a chat or an explanation.”
Alexander ran his fingers through his hair. “Stubborn son of a bitch. What the fuck is the deal with him?”
Apoc nodded and took a long drink from his bottle as he turned to Alexander. “Maybe you should speak to Gyth and find out what his deal is, man — gods know we need him worse now than ever before.”
Alexander turned to Varick. “I’ve already spoken to Gyth about Eli. He informs me he is doing exactly what he wants him to do, and Eli has managed to rid the world of numerous witch covens and dozens of werewolf dens.”
“So, now he isn’t missing but fighting alone and under no supervision?” Varick grumbled.
Alexander nodded. “Gyth assures me he will soon return to the sanctuary but to keep our questions limited when he does.”
“What?” Varick asked. “When the hell have our private lives ever been private? The only secrets we carry are the ones from our pasts. He’s part of this damn fraternity, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to believe anything else Gyth says.”
Varick clenched his jaw, ran his tongue over his fangs, and stared at the bottle in his hand. Fraternity? Yeah, he was definitely going through the Mating Rite, losing control over the emotions he so precariously hid all the damn time.
Varick refused to turn his attention to the door, knowing the female who smelled like the flowers of heaven had entered the large room and was slowly getting closer. The scent of her alone was enough to drive him full force into the Mating Rite. He could feel her gaze on the back of his head, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to turn around. She smelled beautiful, and he could hear her soft footsteps and her steady heartbeat above the hammering guitar and pounding drums.
He could almost read her thoughts as she studied Alexander. His lazy smile did little to hide his pleasure as she categorized him as a rock star. It was almost hilarious. What would the good general say about that?
Varick lit a cigarette and almost choked. Desire-filled thoughts were flooding into his mind and damn, his erection was going full mast. He sucked on the cigarette and grabbed his glass. He swallowed the liquid and nervously shifted in his seat. He had to look at her. She was damn near begging him to take her.
Yeah, I can pour you in a glass and drink you all night long.
He looked up and met her stare. Damn, but she was gorgeous. Skin as smooth and silky as cream and long, curly hair as black as night. Her silk shirt clung to her breasts and was neatly tucked into her jeans. He suddenly had the urge to tear her clothes off and take her on the bar. He looked away as he felt his blood race through his veins. Damn! The Mating Rite was on his heels and gaining ground.
The club got eerily quiet as a large man with long, black hair and a bitter smile stepped through the entrance. His eyes were damn near black, and his steps were those of a predator. If the scene had been a jungle, then he would have surely been the panther.
Varick managed a disgruntled hello as Payne took his seat and nodded at Alexander. He knew Payne would have something to say. The Destroyer rarely ever kept his mouth shut.
“How’s our boy holding up to the Mating Rite?”
Varick snarled at Payne, “Don’t you worry, my friend. Yours is coming soon!”
Payne laughed and slapped the table. “Well until then I can watch you suffer as your blood starts to boil inside your veins and that little beastie inside of you breaks out and goes on the mad march of lust.”
“Enough!” Varick stood, his fists clenching at his sides. “Last time I checked, none of you have permission to be in my business.”
His eyes darted to the new waitress as he turned on his heel and strode toward the bar. He ignored the comments from his fellow Destroyers and decided he ne
eded to get a grip on his emotions. Or, better yet, find a willing woman to sate the desires that would slowly drive him insane.
Chapter 5
There were four of them. Unnaturally tall and tongue-a-liciously drip-dragging gorgeous. You know, the kind of man you see in sexy pics on the web. Muscles stood at attention everywhere on their tall bodies and their hair — good grief, they had long, thick, flowing hair. The kind you want to run your fingers through and hope you didn’t have a massive orgasm.
Even under the flashing lights of the bar’s décor, their finger-licking goodness could be savored. It definitely wasn’t a sight a girl got to see every day, so by George, Angelica was going to take advantage of the moment.
The corner table seemed made especially for them. It was rather large and took most of the corner’s space. It was set farther from the rest of the bar than the other, less pleasing tables. She carefully eyed the first one sitting closest to the outside. It was extremely dark in that particular corner, but she had uncannily good eyesight.
He looked like a rock star. Black leather pants stretched tight across thick thighs, and his matching black muscle shirt emphasized his wide shoulders. His hair was dark, highlighted with blond streaks, and it made her think he visited an expensive salon on a regular basis. His delicious, long leg was draped across the table’s edge, and he was completely at ease.
She forced her smile down as she noticed his biker boots. Tattoos ran up both his arms, and that was kind of hot. The strobe light made it too difficult to decipher the exact lettering of the tats but she was sure it was old Latin. She went to the next man to his right.
Ouch!
Men like the second one just did not exist. He appeared to be tall, maybe six feet, four inches or so. His hair seemed white under the lights and very long. It hung down his broad back in a loose ponytail. He wore black jeans and a black dress shirt. Black cowboy boots completed the outfit. As she continued her appraisal, she watched as he lit a cigarette.
She caught her breath as he shifted in his chair and leaned back. His shoulders were broad and so very defined. If she could just touch him once to see if he was real she would make it worth the effort. Hell, no, she couldn’t do that; she might get really turned on then. Oh, but wait — she was already turned on, and the heat threatening to swallow her was barely containable. The muscles in his hard jawline twitched as he looked up and caught her eye. She quickly looked away, but shyly looked up again.
Angelica wanted so badly to run her fingers through his too-white-to-be-natural hair. Visions of all those silken waves surrounding her naked flesh flashed in her mind, and she groaned.
Shaking her head in defiance of her body’s reaction, she sighed as she watched the men bring their bottles together in some sort of toast.
She turned her attention to the third one and damnation, he was spectacular. She must be dreaming because he was as perfect as it gets. He was staggeringly beautiful, not in a pretty-boy, handsome way but in a wild, sexually intoxicating way. She bit her lip as she looked closer at him. She could just drink him in with her eyes.
His lips twitched as he rubbed the ring on his little finger. She could almost swear she felt a twinge of heartbreak in him as his eyes softened. But that was a silly notion; she didn’t even know him.
White’s strong fingers wrapped around his bottle again and brought it to his full lips. Her legs got weak, and she grasped the back of the chair at the bar.
Go ahead, pour me in a glass and drink me up!
How in the hell could she be attracted to a man she hadn’t even met? Talk about chemical attraction!
She slid her attention to the fourth man and frowned. She could only see part of the right side of his face, and nothing from the neck down, but he was definitely the one she’d run from a few nights before. She sighed, knowing the rest of him resembled the part of his face she could see. Wow, talk about your handsome nightmares coming to life! Don’t mess with me was indeed written on this one’s rather dark face. She strained her eyes and caught her breath as he turned his head, giving her a perfect view of his profile. Gorgeous but terrifying.
She looked back to the one who had white hair and wiped the sweat from her cheek. He was still better looking than the others, and damn if she wasn’t going to fantasize about him in the nearby future. Deep, hot fantasies that were already taking root in her vivid imagination.
“Order up!” The black-headed bartender set the drinks in front of her. “Hey! Order’s ready.”
Angelica rubbed her neck and frowned. What the hell was wrong with her? “Thanks.”
She turned and almost whimpered as she looked back to the table of muscled men. The man with white hair was gone. Damn.
• • •
Alexander tapped his finger on the table impatiently. “How many?”
Payne grunted, “Sixteen.”
Payne piled sixteen star-shaped pendants onto the tabletop. They were all bloody as hell, but to the eye of anyone other than a Destroyer, they looked like they were covered in oil. Varick narrowed his eyes as Payne wiped his hands on the napkins lying on the table. He couldn’t help but notice and feel the satisfaction pouring from Payne’s soul. Payne enjoyed his job far more than any other Destroyer; he liked to kill witches, and he seldom ever killed anything else.
Alexander piled the canine teeth and pendants in the table’s center. He turned to Varick. Varick growled and pulled twelve small, white orbs out of his pocket — the slain vampires’ tokens.
Witches were the strongest of the demons they destroyed. Werewolves were strong but lacked intelligence, but the strength made them formidable enemies. And the vampires — they were soulless, and their power came from sucking the souls from humans along with their blood. The more they fed, the stronger they became. The more souls they took the more they appeared human, easily blending into human society.
Varick forced down the bile that had risen in his throat. Souls fueled the vampires’ black hearts with life, and if one of them ever killed a Destroyer and sucked his soul that vampire would be able to walk among the living completely in human form. Throughout the years there had been a few vampires who had succeeded taking a Destroyer’s soul, but Varick could sense any vampire within a few miles.
His hands trembled, and he placed them under the tabletop. He was intimate with the ways and needs of a vampire on more levels than he was willing to admit. As an assassin, his vampiric nature had thrived, had danced in the glory of the kill, had guiltlessly taken souls and blood, lots of blood.
Vampires preyed on members of the One Race as a primary source of souls. Once the vampire had taken a soul from a member, they could walk in the human world during daylight. And that was the best place to be if you were a vampire because Destroyers were confined to night. Except for Eli, he was the only Destroyer who could hunt the vampire down during the day.
For reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, Gyth had empowered Varick to be the reaper of those souls. Swallowing the orbs, he could release the souls, relieve the endless torment they suffered as prisoners inside the orbs.
Vampire.
The word stabbed the inside of his skull like daggers trying to penetrate his will. Even though he had been born again as a Destroyer, he still needed that one precious commodity — blood. Human or vampire donors were both acceptable. He bit the inside of his cheek. Better to feed on vampires. Better to eat their black hearts and thrive that way. Yes, better — better because he felt less guilt, less self-loathing that way.
And gods above, he had enough guilt to deal with.
The music grew louder as the air thickened, and a heavy mist filtered around the table, blocking the humans’ view. The five Destroyers at the table rose, dropped their gazes to the floor, and crossed their arms over their chests. Gyth stepped out of the mist. His long, straight, white hair fell down his leather-covered
chest, and the ends were tinged with red at his waist.
Gyth held out his hand in the center of the table. The five Destroyers each laid their hands palm down on top of his upturned palm. In unison, all spoke the words. “All is one and one is all, for we are the keepers of our brothers,” in an ancient language. Gyth sat down, and the Destroyers followed.
All the Destroyers laid their palms up on the table and waited as Gyth spread his hands over the pendants, the black marble-like balls, and the canine teeth. He focused their energies, and from each of his fingertips sparked a purple flame. His fingernails turned black as the energy poured from his fingers and snaked out across the table in five directions.
The purple flames inched their way to each of the Destroyers. Each one closed their eyes as pain shot up their arms. The flames licked their skin, bit down harshly, and disappeared as the fire settled into their veins.
Varick watched as a new dagger, very large and black, appeared on his right arm above the intricate angel-and-demon tattoo. He looked up as the eyes of the smallest snake on Kreach’s forearm turned bright red and the scales flared out from its back, twisting around a long golden stake. Payne’s skull and bones became encircled with flames.
As if Alexander had willed it, Varick turned to watch as the words “wind of death” etched themselves across Alexander’s knuckles in Latin. Apoc flexed his arm as the panther on his shoulder twisted around a long, jagged sword.
Varick looked up to Gyth and frowned as his face shimmered and disappeared. He always left as quickly as he came, never offering any words of wisdom or even so much as a thank you for saving this world one day at a time.
Varick carefully looked around the table. Everyone at the table had at some point crossed the god who had made the Destroyers, all except for Alexander.
In truth, everyone at this particular table owed Gyth something. Varick himself owed the god for a second chance at life, a new beginning. He had freed himself from Grace’s assassins, had endured so he could survive only to be murdered by the one female he allowed to get close to him, his mother.
Embrace the Fire Page 4