The Gathering

by Lily Graison

  “Nothing.” She reached for his hand, lifted it to her left breast, her eyes closing as his palm made contact with her flesh.

  Her skin was cool, not cold as he suspected it would be. Her lips were parted, the small pink tip of her tongue resting just inside her mouth. He rasped her nipple with his thumb, watching the pink bud tighten as she sucked in a harsh breath.

  Bryce lifted his other hand, his fingers climbing into her hair before he lifted her head so she’d look at him. “If you’re doing nothing, then why do I want you the way I do?”

  She leaned toward him, pushing her breast closer to his palm. “We share a connection.”

  “What sort of connection?”

  The vibrant shade of green her eyes usually were faded, and the cool ice blue he’d seen the day she attacked him now shined like pinpricks in the darkness. “It doesn’t matter at the moment what the connection is.” She reached for him, her arms sliding around his waist as she leaned up on her toes and kissed him before he could form another thought. The instant her lips touched his, fire raced through his veins. His cock hardened painfully when her tongue pushed past his lips, teasing the inside of his mouth.

  His grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her scalp. As much as he wanted to hate her, the wolf, and his cock, had other ideas. He kissed her back, taking control, and pushed her against the tree, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

  The loathing he felt for her was replaced with consuming need as her hands slid under the edge of his shirt, her fingers tickling a path to his chest. His hand tightened against her breast, his mouth moving across her lips and he took everything he wanted from her.

  Lydia hooked her leg around his hip, pulling him against the soft flesh of her thighs. He ground himself against her, the need to free himself and bury his cock inside of her was so intense, his body ached with it. It consumed his thoughts and clouded everything around him but her.

  When she moaned, his name whispered against his lips, he opened his eyes, forced himself to break the kiss and look down at her.

  Her earlier words came back to him then and his confusion grew. “What is this connection?”

  She opened her eyes, her fingers splayed across his flesh. “Some—vampires, I mean—have certain… abilities.”

  “Like?”

  “Like, our souls can connect with another.”

  Bryce snorted. “Vampires don’t have a soul.”

  Lydia frowned. “So the world thinks. I can assure you, we do. It isn’t as substantial as your own but we do keep a small part of ours even after death.”

  Vampires had souls? He wanted to laugh at the thought. They were evil creatures. All of them. They had no soul. One look at Lydia’s face though, and he knew she believed what she was saying. He could see it in her eyes. “All right. For arguments sake, say I believe you about the soul. What does that have to do with me?” When fear and uncertainty clouded her eyes, Bryce knew he wasn’t going to like her answer. She released him, and looked toward the gown lying at her feet. He lifted her head, made her look at him. “Just tell me, Lydia.”

  She stared at him for long moments before taking a deep breath. “I can connect with you, Bryce, because part of your soul once belonged to me.”

  He shared part of Lydia’s soul? Bryce’s confusion must have shown on his face. Lydia spoke again before he could even form a coherent thought.

  “When a vampire is born, when our human bodies die, our souls shatter into hundreds of pieces. Those fragments are reborn into others.” She paused, her gaze scanning his face before she continued. “Vampires retain a small portion of their souls and some of us can sense the lost pieces. We feel them, here.” She laid her hand on her chest, directly over her heart. “The connection we have, Bryce, is our soul.”

  They shared a soul? Bryce shook his head and let go of her, took a step backwards, then another.

  He stared at her, saw her lips glistening with moisture, swollen from his kiss. His body still ached with need, still burned while his wolf clambered to get closer and as much as he wanted her, as much he needed her, he refused to believe a word of what she said.

  Turning away, he started back through the forest, leaving her standing alone, naked in the moonlight, while her words whispered through his head. His soul was hers? The connection she kept referring to wasn’t just desire. It went deeper than that.

  The clearing beyond the forest came into view and Bryce stopped, staring at the play of light from the moon shifting across the grass. He clenched his fist and moved his head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks he felt knotted at the back of his neck.

  A litany of whispered admonishments echoed through his head, the most prevalent was, how could he want her after what happened? Guilt made his stomach ache, caused his head to pound.

  He and Lydia, a creature he loathed and probably always would, together? How could he want her after…

  The images came too fast to push them away. The anger they brought with them left only one question on his mind. Why didn’t he just kill her where she stood? The blood of hundreds of vampires stained his hands and he’d never regretted one of them. It would be so easy. She was small, her bones fragile. He could kill her before she even knew what he was doing.

  But what if vampires did have a soul? Or some part of a soul. What if they weren’t the soulless creatures he’d always thought them to be.

  Did that make him a murderer?

  Hearing a twig snap behind him, he turned. Lydia was standing a few yards away, the over-sized gown once again covering her body. She looked so small, so childlike, in the shadowed light. Her feet were bare, her hair falling around her shoulders and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny what he felt when he looked at her. He wanted her—still. And he hated himself for it. “Will it ever go away?” he asked, a bitter edge of cynicism in his tone. “What I feel for you. Will it ever go away?”

  She shook her head. “No. It never goes away.”

  Bryce took a step toward her, fighting the desire to either toss her gown up and fuck her on the spot or wrap his hands around her head and twisting until her neck broke. “As long as you live, you mean. If living is something vampires can actually do.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction before she lifted her chin. “It will never go away, Bryce. My death won’t stop your soul from weeping.” She walked toward him, her steps slow, her gaze locked with his. “It won’t stop the ache you feel burning inside of you.”

  Laying his hands on either side of her face, Bryce held her head, tightened his hold until he knew a normal human would have whimpered. “Shall we test your theory?”

  “What you feel… it will never fully go away. A part of you will always want me, even when I no longer exist.”

  Bryce stared down at her, trying to deny what she said was true. He knew it was, he already ached for her. His body strung tight every day since he’d found her in the mine. Seeing her caused his pulse to leap, her scent on the air caused his body to stir, his groin to tighten painfully.

  He loosened his grip on her face but didn’t let go. He stared into her eyes, those wonderfully large green eyes and knew he’d never rid her from his thoughts. He’d tried for days to no avail and yet, to stand so close to her and not end her miserable life was agony. “I can’t look at you and not feel sick to my stomach for what you are, Lydia. I’ve spent my life searching for the vampires who murdered my wife, my children. How can I touch you, want you, when the very thought of you makes my blood run cold?”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t!” he said, his grip on her face tightening. His throat felt tight and his eyes burnt. Bloody images assaulted his mind; images of his family torn into so many pieces that what was left of them resembled a macabre puzzle. “Don’t you dare tell me how sorry you are.”

  She lifted her hand, running the back of her fingers over his cheek. “I didn’t take their life.”

  “No, but your kind did.” He released her with
a small shove and took several steps away from her. The images continued to flash in his minds eye until the last of the gory pictures faded away. Lydia’s face blurred, tears he hadn’t shed in fifteen years laying thick on his lashes. He blinked them away, swiped at his cheek angrily with the back of one hand.

  When he spoke again, the sound was rough, broken. His throat raw with the effort to swallow his pain. “They tortured my family, Lydia. The very thought of what you are sickens me. And now you tell me I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting you?” He laughed, a bitter edge of scorn laced through the sound. “I’ve lived with my pain so far. I’m sure another fifty years won’t kill me. It hasn’t so far.”

  He turned and left her there, standing alone in the filtered moonlight and walked back to the house. Every step he took, the wolf clawed at his flesh to go back. To claim her. To make her his for all eternity. To sink his teeth into her throat as his cock slid into her flesh. And with every step, he had to remind himself why he couldn’t. Why he’d sought out the werewolf who had turned him and begged him for a new life to avenge the family that had been taken from him.

  To kill every vampire that walked the earth.

  * * * *

  Victor came the next morning. At least Rayna thought it was morning. His voice echoed against the stone walls of the pit. When she stirred, still ensconced in Garrett’s arms, she noticed her mate was still in wolf form. He hadn’t shifted, which meant he hadn’t slept.

  “Ms. Ford. If you’d so kindly follow me. We have a world to enlighten today.”

  Garrett growled as he stood, lifting Rayna to her feet before stepping in front of her. She couldn’t see anything but his back, the fur covering his body bristled. She laid her palm to his shoulder, hoping to keep him calm. She knew Victor wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he needed to. “She’s not going anywhere.” That otherworldly voice of the wolf was raspy and tinged with bitterness.

  Victor straightened before looking back over his shoulder. Rayna noticed the men behind him, then. “It will do you no good to fight this, Garrett. I’m in no mood for your heroics today. Please send Ms. Ford to me and I can promise you, you’ll live long enough to see her again.”

  Rayna glanced at Sabriel. He was on his feet, the bruises on his face not as vibrant as the night before. He didn’t look in any condition to fight, if he even would, but she wasn’t going to stand by and watch Garrett get killed if she could help it.

  She stepped out from behind Garrett, laying her hand on his arm. “Don’t fight him.”

  “He’ll not force you to do this. I won’t let him.”

  She looked up at him, noticing the hard set of his jaw. His gaze was focused on Victor and a deadly glint shined in those strange amber eyes of his. “Garrett,” she said softly. She waited until he turned his head to look at her. She knew by the look in his eyes, no matter what she said, he’d do what he wanted. Her shoulders sagged and he must have known what she was thinking.

  “Trust me.”

  Such a simple request but Rayna wasn’t sure she could. Not at the moment. Not with Victor and his goons waiting on the stairs. She gave him a hesitant smile and nodded her head, once.

  When he raised his arm, giving her a slight push back into the corner before stepping into the middle of the small room, Rayna’s stomach cramped, fear scalding her eyes with tears that she quickly blinked away.

  Victor shook his head and leaned both hands on his cane. “Don’t do anything stupid, Garrett.”

  “Protecting my mate is never stupid.”

  “No, but your actions are.” Victor straightened best be could and nodded his head toward them. “Now bring her to me.”

  Garrett’s head lowered, his shoulders dropping. “Come and get her.”

  The timber of his voice sent a shiver up Rayna’s spine. It skated along her skin like razors. Garrett was looking for a fight. By the look on Victor’s face, so was he.

  When Victor motioned two of the men behind him down into the pit, Garrett tensed, a growl working up his throat and the sound bounced off the stone walls. The two men grinned before shifting, their wolf forms as large as Garrett’s.

  They jumped as one and Garrett didn’t give them a chance to get in the first blow. Rayna backed into the corner, her heart in her throat as their claws slashed like knives, blood spilling over the floor in splatters.

  She’d seen Garrett fight before. The battle with Caleb and Malcolm was still fresh in her mind. She’d been scared then, but the fear she had now wasn’t for herself. It was for Garrett.

  Four other men stood on the stairs behind Victor. Would Garrett have to fight them all? When the first wolf fell at Garrett’s feet, she got her answer. Another of the men jumped, shifting in mid-air.

  She’d never seen a werelion shifter and the size of the beast that landed at the base of the stairs startled her. He was on four legs, the mane of hair around his animal-like face thick and bushy.

  He stood taller than most wolves and the muscle in his limbs slinked under his skin with every move. He wasted no time in joining the fight and attacking. He was on Garrett before her mate even knew he was there.

  Rayna couldn’t look away, couldn’t drag her gaze from the fight, from Garrett. As always, the sight of him stirred her. She felt pride swell in her chest, her own wolf restless as she watched him. It prowled just under her skin, the smell of fresh blood luring her to the surface.

  The remaining men at the top of the landing advanced down the stairs from behind Victor, each of them lifting guns she hadn’t noticed before. When she saw them, she knew Victor had no intention of letting Garrett walk away, whether he killed every shifter in the room. The moment the guns were lifted and aimed at her mate, she felt the first sting of pain zipping along her spine. The wolf slammed against her bones hard enough to steal her breath.

  She gasped and reached behind her for the wall moments before a sound she was familiar with echoed inside the pit. The pop and whiz of darts filled the air, each one aimed at Garrett.

  His body hit the bottom of the steps with a sickening thud.

  The fear she’d felt earlier changed in an instant at seeing her mate’s body lying lifeless in the dirt. A maddening rush of hatred burned along her flesh. Her blood felt hot, boiling under her skin, and pain raced along her limbs while a growl crawled its way up her throat.

  When the darts continued to pound into Garrett’s flesh, Rayna knew she’d not be able to control the wolf. It surged to the surface so fast she was shocked by its intensity.

  For the first time, she welcomed it and set her sights on Victor.

  She was running across the room before she realized what was happening. She made it halfway before being slammed against the wall, the breath knocked out of her upon impact. The growls continued, those claws she’d seen before at the end of her fingers digging into soft flesh as the scent of blood filled the air.

  “Shoot her!”

  The sting was minute but the effect of the drug was instantaneous. Rayna felt the wolf back away, saw blurry shapes step into her line of sight. Sabriel stood directly in front of her, the look on his face unreadable. Was he still helping Victor? Would he have allowed himself to be beaten senseless in order to further the Collective’s plan?

  The answers didn’t come. The dark realms of unconsciousness took hold before she could ask.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Garrett heard voices as he swam back to consciousness. He wasn’t sure who it was in the room with him. It wasn’t Rayna. Her scent still hung heavy in the air but he knew without opening his eyes he wouldn’t find her there.

  His muscles burned and twitched, his tongue felt twice its normal size and just opening his eyes took more effort than it should have. Whatever they shot him with left more of an impact than the stuff Malcolm had used on him.

  Turning his head on the dirt floor, it took a few moments for his vision to clear. Someone was sitting against the wall, arms propped on their knees. It wasn’t the vampire who had been thro
wn into the pit with them.

  Sensing he was a wake, the unknown person turned to look at him. He smiled, one corner of his mouth turning into a lopsided grin before he raised an eyebrow. “I was beginning to think they’d killed you instead of just filling you with that noxious stuff in their tranquilizer guns.”

  Garrett braced one hand on the ground and lifted himself into a sitting position. He’d shifted while he was out. He sighed as he took in his naked flesh. It would be hours before he could shift back, if even then.

  He’d stayed in wolf form longer than he should have. Shifting back after so short a time would be next to impossible, especially as weak as he felt.

  Leaning against the wall, he saw Sabriel sitting across the room from him. The vampire looked better than he had. His bruises had faded but his complexion looked ashy. He hadn’t been fed. Garrett hoped the unknown man beside him would offer up a vein. He knew he didn’t have the strength to do it. Not that he would even if asked.

  He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes. “Who are you and where have they taken Rayna?”

  “Nicolas Mears. And they’ve taken Rayna into the city. Or at least that’s where I think they’ve taken her.”

  Turning his head, Garrett looked at the newcomer and knew he was a shifter. Something in his eyes told him so. That and the fact he smelled—different. Not wolf but something. “What are you?”

  Nicolas smiled. “Lion.”

  Garrett made a “humpf” noise before stretching out his legs, trying to get his muscles to stop twitching. “Don’t leave me in suspense. You’re not here to keep us company and honestly, I’m not in the mood for anymore games.”

  “They’re going to make Rayna shift today.”

  “I got that message loud and clear already.” He turned his head again, looking over at Nicolas. “Are you here to make sure I don’t make a run for it?”

  Nicolas laughed. “Not hardly. You’d do good to stand right now, let alone run.”