Her Fallen Protector
Page 4
His entire body shook, like he held a jackhammer pulverizing a piece of asphalt. He clasped his hands into fists, and he pushed her away, toward the door “Run, Vdarra.”
“What?”
“Get out of here!”
Something whizzed past her earlobe and an automatic reaction had her dropping to the floor. She searched over her right shoulder and froze.
Officer Smith had just shot at her.
She barely made out Officer Smith’s location before Vdarra darted for cover in the small kitchen, the sound of bullets deafening. Chunks of the front door and pieces of drywall rained down, scraping her skin before hitting the hardwood floor. She clamped her hands over her ears in a sad attempt to make herself a smaller target.
But the bullets weren’t flying at her.
They were aimed at Sorren.
The apartment went silent. Had Officer Smith run out of bullets?
Forcing herself back to reality, Vdarra poked her head around the kitchen cabinet’s edge.
“Sorren!” Vdarra lunged across the floor on all fours. The single boot sticking out from the hallway twitched just before she grabbed onto it. “Oh God. Oh God.”
Blood oozed across his T-shirt and down to the floor beneath him. She held her breath, held back the sob building in her throat, and slipped in a pool of blood collecting at his side. Her hands hovered above the wounds. Stop the bleeding. Call for help. She planted her hands over the bullet wounds and swallowed the bile working up her throat as they squished under her weight.
“Stay with me. Please, stay with me.”
Sorren’s breathing quickened, the muscles in his face relaxing slightly.
“No! Help! Help me!” The hallway echoed her pleas, but no one came.
A shadow fell over his wide chest from behind her. The gun—she reached for it in her jeans, hands coated in red, but couldn’t turn fast enough to fight off Officer Smith.
The cop threw a heavy cloth bag over her head, blinding her completely. Strong hands, stronger than she thought possible, pulled her wrists behind her back and wrenched her to her feet. The officer patted her down and yanked the gun from her back. Pain shot down her arms as Officer Smith maneuvered her down the hallway.
“Sorren!” She struggled with everything she had, but a hit to her head pitched her into blackness.
Chapter Four
He hadn’t been careful enough.
Consumed with his memories of Vdarra, the feel of her skin, the sound of her release as she called his name, his failure to resurrect her, Jacob hadn’t recognized the enemy now standing over him. A single injection had taken the fight from his muscles when he’d gotten off the plane, and another kept him weakened once they reached the abandoned apartment.
His veins burned from the drug, but no amount of pain eclipsed the self-hate thundering alongside his pulse. He’d practically handed Vdarra over to them with his own two hands. His selfish need to have her again had ruined the life she’d built, and now they’d force him to watch her die. Damn her father and his followers.
“You haven’t ruined anything. You’ve freed her. As she was meant to be.” Damien kept his attention locked on something out the window.
“Stay out of my head.”
Crouching down to Jacob’s position on the floor, Damien checked the zip ties around his wrists and ankles. “I meant what I said, Jacob. You don’t have to be a prisoner. Look at how much you’ve already lost fighting what’s meant to be. Why risk yourself, too? Join us. Be with her again.”
The sound of a car pulling into the parking lot below rebounded off the walls. The bitter taste of fear coated his tongue.
He fisted his hands. Torn, he wanted nothing more than to have her at his side, but also far from this place and these people.
The front door swung inward and banged against the wall. Isabel stepped through the doorway, dragging Vdarra inside.
Dried blood coated her hands and elbows, and the knees of her jeans were ripped, as if she’d fallen. He growled low in his throat. A whiff of citrus and vanilla reached him across the small living room. His fingers twitched, flashes of their night together flickering through his mind. Inhaling slowly, he willed his heart rate under control. Violence wouldn’t help the situation and it wouldn’t free her. In fact, Damien’s master fed on it, and the last thing he intended was to give the Deceiver any kind of advantage. “You were not to harm her.”
“You don’t give the orders.” Damien straightened. “Do you really believe I’d harm our most precious asset?”
Jacob felt the weight of his stare burning into him from above, but he couldn’t force his attention from Vdarra. The blindfold covered her beautiful eyes. She bit down on those perfectly formed lips, a nervous habit she’d always had. Despite the flawless resemblance to the woman he’d known, nothing supported Damien’s belief that her memories could be resurrected. Jacob had already tried. And failed.
It didn’t matter. No one deserved the pain she’d endure here.
“I can’t answer that honestly. You’re evil. It’s in your nature to lie.” Faster than any demon could move, he shot to his feet, both fists connecting with Damien’s face. The toxins had worn off just enough for him to give her a chance to escape and he hoped it would be enough. “Vdarra, run!”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Isabel warned. The blade at Vdarra’s throat raised her chin a bit higher. “Another move like that and I’ll have to shave off a few souvenirs. She doesn’t need both ears, does she?”
He bowed his shoulders back, inhaled deeply. It wasn’t enough to contain the energy running rampant under his skin. His arm vibrated from the blow. “You harm her and I will end you.”
Damien had fallen back into the abandoned kitchen table, eyes consumed with black. Producing another syringe of clear liquid, his captor jabbed the needle into his stomach, injecting the contents and bringing Jacob to his knees. “You can’t even protect yourself, Jacob. How are you going to defeat us?”
The drug worked fast. Fogged his head. Sucked the feeling from his hands and legs.
He ached for his dying wings, to protect him against the demon straightening in front of him. Mind poised for battle, he yearned for the sword and mace he’d become accustomed to over the past millennia, but his fall had been cruel. No wings. No weapons. No power. His strength left him before he could take another breath. Vision swimming, he tried focusing on the woman who’d had a grip on his heart from the moment they’d met.
The blindfold had slid down her face, revealing wide brown eyes full of fear.
She’d seen everything.
Damien wiped a stream of blood from his lips, canines slightly elongated. A growl vibrated from his throat. “You’ll learn to mind your place. You wouldn’t want to piss me off.”
“I think pissing you off is part of my existence,” he said, voice strained. Fire burned throughout his body from the injection. The substance consumed his energy, his mind, and any fight left in him. Collapsing onto one side, he fought to keep Vdarra in view.
“Move them into the bedroom. Make sure they’re both tied.” Damien stood motionless, his gaze boring down into Jacob. “It didn’t have to be this way. We could’ve worked great together.”
His chest tightened. He ached to wrap his hands around Damien’s throat, but as long as they had an unlimited supply of syringes, he’d become powerless. For now. “I’m going to kill you for this. You have my word.”
…
What the hell was going on? She shut her eyes, opened them again. Not only was she a prisoner, but they had Jacob restrained, and now drugged. They intended to keep her here. For how long? “Can’t you take these ties off?”
“No.” Officer Smith shoved her inside a small, single-window room.
Her knees hit wood before the rest of her. The breath was knocked from her lungs; her chest burned for air with desperation. She wouldn’t let her captor know how much it hurt. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Who the hell were these people? Her instincts had trie
d to warn her before she’d opened her door. The slithering dread still plagued her mind. Too late now. “What do you want? You’re not a cop, are you?”
A snarl sounded behind her. Jacob writhed on the floor, his foot making contact with Officer Smith’s breastbone as she tried to grab his wrist. The hit sprawled their smaller kidnapper beside Vdarra as a shrill laugh crawled across her skin.
Coarse hands pulled her to her feet the same moment the woman stood. The man who’d drugged Jacob, or hadn’t drugged him enough, righted her. “Isabel, you must be more careful with our guest. We’ve promised not to let any harm come to her during her stay with us.”
Promised who? Her ribcage expanded and she gulped down air. Sweet relief. She tried to wrestle out of the man’s grasp, to no avail. “Where am I? What do you want with us?”
Isabel chuckled, leading her to sit on the floor. She worked off the bindings around Vdarra’s wrists.
Vdarra’s fist shot out and connected with something seemingly made of stone, and her hand buckled. She ground her teeth so as not to cry out, but a hiss escaped. She wouldn’t show weakness in front of them. Not a chance in hell. “Why are we here? What do you want from us?”
Isabel’s sharp nails pressed against her wrist as she yanked the zip tie tight, anchoring Vdarra to the radiator.
With a smile, Isabel crossed to Jacob and dragged him to the radiator with ease, tying one of his hands just below Vdarra’s. Both captors disappeared into the hallway and slammed the door behind them. The sharp click of the lock sealed Vdarra and Jacob inside.
She didn’t dare move. Frozen. The last hour played in her head over and over again, but no matter how many times she ran through it, none of it made sense. The shows she’d watch on the Discovery Channel hadn’t prepared her for a kidnapping. Terrorist attack? Yes. Defending her home? Yes. Kidnapped by a police officer? No. She’d have to write to the network about that.
“Are you all right?”
“You’re the one they drugged. Are you all right?” He’d protect her. He’d get them out of this. He’d help her find out why they’d been taken and her friend shot to death. Or would he? His leaving her alone in Rio hadn’t exactly given her a reason to trust him.
“I’ve had better days.”
She cracked a smile, but it didn’t last long as the planes of his jawline sharpened.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, and I’m not going to stick around to give them the chance, either.” She studied the room again, looking for a way out that didn’t involve going through the apartment. No sign of cameras or security of any type, just a broken broom in the corner and some pieces of glass by a far window. If they could reach the broom or glass, it might aid their escape. But what then? Surely there had to be guards outside the door.
She licked her dry lips, taking in Jacob’s still form in all its glory. Her fingertips tingled with memories of running over his bare skin, of the moans she’d elicited from his throat. Now he wore the same expression as when he’d left her in Rio. He obviously hadn’t planned on being kidnapped either.
“Have they told you what they want with us?” she asked. He struggled to sit up, his breathing rough, and she continued. “Do you know what’s going on? I’m pretty sure she isn’t a real cop and I have no idea who that guy is—” Her heart dropped. “They’re the ones who were looking for me, aren’t they? The ones you didn’t want to tell me about.”
The truth slithered beneath her skin.
“I told you not to trust anyone, Vdarra.”
“Are you saying this is my fault?”
He leaned back against the wall. One well-muscled arm folded across his lean stomach, the black T-shirt stretching tight. His eyes met hers, those unnatural green orbs softening. “I did what I could to keep you safe—”
“Keep me safe? I’ve been kidnapped. Because of you. You knew something would happen to me, yet you left me in Rio alone anyway. That’s not keeping me safe. That’s being an ass.” A tight jerk of her head failed to erase the last hour. The last three days. What kind of husband stayed away for ten years then showed up with a Surprise! Let me give you the best pleasure you’ve ever had, but afterward, you’ll never hear from me again.
Bastard.
Worse, she’d believed him. She looked over at him, wanted to demand answers. Sorrow etched across his face. She rested her head against the hard metal of the radiator. Avoiding that look. Avoiding him. She stared at the popcorn-textured ceiling. “You know, I’ve heard communication is key in relationships. Some marriage we must’ve had.”
She drew her legs up, but a shot of pain from Isabel’s blows made her whimper.
“Are you hurt?”
“You mean other than mentally beating myself up?”
“Did they hurt you?” His voice slipped into a lower octave, the humor gone.
“No.” Heat flooded her face as his gaze roamed over the rest of her body. He’d seen her completely bare in Rio, yet this study seemed different. Regretful. Something in his tone, in the set of his mouth, urged her to explain. “She killed my friend when she took me. I tried to stop the bleeding, but he was already dead. And this,”—she brushed her fingertips over the lump on the right side of her head—“is what I got from fighting back.”
“You tried to fight her off?”
“Of course I did. Normal people don’t like being kidnapped.” Or was that just her?
Jacob reached for her hand, and she yanked it away. She couldn’t handle the instant desire he coaxed from her body. Not right now. Not when he’d proven how little she really meant to him.
Catching her hand in his, he brushed his thumb over her sore knuckles. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I thought I’d been careful, but they found you before I could—”
“How long are we going to be here?” How could she sound so calm when her life had become such a nightmare? Strong, confident, but sad—he’d known exactly how to lure her in, and a pang of self-loathing shot through her. She’d been an idiot to ignore the signs. Everybody had an agenda. Even her. Why hadn’t she been able to see through his? “How long will I be here?”
“I don’t know.” Regretful again. Big surprise. He could just keep beating himself up. He deserved every ounce of guilt he felt. No matter how much she wanted to forgive him for his recklessness, for getting her kidnapped, he’d discarded her back in Rio, and she couldn’t forget that.
She angled one foot under her thigh, the crusted blood on her jeans cracking in dendritic patterns. She hated him for making her stronger in Rio, for giving her hope, then taking it away. She hated everything about him, even hated his name right then.
“Is Jacob Strauss even your real name?” The longer she studied him, the more memories of their night flooded her mind. His warmth had consumed her every second following his escape, elicited a smile when she thought about the freedom from pain he’d given her in Rio. What a load of crap. “Is anything you said about yourself real?”
“No.” He stared directly into her soul.
“So everything was a lie.”
“I had to protect you.”
“From what? Them?” She motioned with her chin toward the door. “Or you? Because you’re doing a bang up job so far.”
“From yourself.”
She froze. He was just playing some mind game. She couldn’t fall for that again. Couldn’t trust him. He let go of her hand, and she leaned back, bumping her head on the wall. Pain shot through her skull. Maybe a few more hard knocks would wake her up from this nightmare. That stupid popcorn pattern on the ceiling said otherwise. Dammit.
The bedroom door opened. The petite blonde who’d kidnapped her stood in the frame.
“Officer Smith,” Vdarra said.
The man who’d drugged Jacob stood behind Isabel. Graying stubble ran along his jaw. His eyes were dark and beady, like a rat’s. He stared down at Jacob as they moved into the room like choreographed dancers. “Don’t you ever stop talking?”
“If you tell me why we’re here, I won’t have to ask him questions.” She pulled against the zip tie. It bit into her skin. She wasn’t an animal. They couldn’t keep her attached to a radiator forever. The room became too crowded with her, Jacob, and the two captors. “Whatever you want with us, I’m sure we can work something out. Peacefully.”
Isabel walked toward her, bent to her haunches. She gripped Vdarra’s jaw, squeezing the sides of her lips closer together. The pain didn’t come close to the headache pounding at the back of her head from Isabel’s earlier blow, but Vdarra tried to wrench away all the same. “It’s not him we want,” Isabel said. “Or didn’t we make that clear by using him to lure you out?”
Jacob growled and lunged, but was stopped short by the restraint. Rage flashed across his expression with such intensity it startled her. His gaze bored into the blonde’s face, sending a cold wave of energy down Vdarra’s spine.
“Hands off,” he said, his tone dangerously tense.
Steel gray eyes pinned Vdarra in place. Something cold and dark, something evil, resided in Isabel’s glare. She dropped her grip, but remained crouched inches away.
The scent of sulfur burned her nostrils. Because of this woman, Sorren’s dying expression had engraved itself on the back of her eyelids, enflaming the aching hole in her heart.
“You’re thinking about getting revenge on me for killing that seraph back in your apartment.” Isabel cocked her head and smiled. Those eyes flashed red for a single heartbeat.
Another hallucination. Trauma, especially from watching a friend die so violently, did that to people.
Seraph?
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
Isabel straightened. The smile lingered. Thin. Dry. She addressed her partner, standing a couple feet behind her, but kept her attention solely on her captives. “Get ready for the test. It’s time.”
Chapter Five
“What test?” The fear she’d tried holding back broke through with every word. Their captors hadn’t given her a chance to ask questions before they’d left and closed the door behind them. Left to do what, she had no idea.