by Anne Marsh
Better safe than sorry. That was Dathan’s motto. A long-range rifle with a good scope was best in a pinch, but you had to be a damned good shot. Not to mention fast. Squeeze off enough rounds quickly enough, and you could get the rogue down long enough for the killing blow.
He was going to need all the skills he possessed if he was going to get out of this alive. Sometime during the night, he and Pell had been found. And now they were surrounded by a pack of soul-thirsty beasts from the Preserves.
He threw his first dagger at the creature. The blade bounced off the rogue’s tough hide, leaving a small scratch, but the beast kept coming. Close up, the smell was overwhelming, the rancid stench of a body that had been dipped in bloody gore and then left to bake dry in the hot sun. Bastard made a charnel house smell like pine-tree air freshener in comparison, but he didn’t stop coming.
“Second blade’s the charm, right?” Dathan took aim.
Pell was still blessedly right where he’d left her in the Jeep. He only hoped she’d taken the rest of his instructions to heart. If he didn’t make it back, she was to peel rubber all the way back to M City, not stopping for anything.
A black SUV came tearing up the road toward his position. The cavalry was riding to the rescue.
As the next rogue climbed through the wall, Dathan greeted him with a quick slash of his blade. The sharp edge cut smoothly through the throat, lodging the blade against a vertebra of spine. One twist. One fewer rogue. Unfortunately, there were more. Lots more.
Dathan was putting up one hell of a fight—but the odds were not in his favor.
It was evac time for their ladies, and pronto. No way was Brends letting Mischka walk into the middle of this firefight. As much as he wanted her to stay, he also wanted to keep her safe. And staying with him was not safe.
He took a last moment to savor their bond, to savor the taste of her. Adrenaline and concern. For him. Christ.
He didn’t hesitate. He wanted her desperately—and the right thing to do was to give her up. To keep her safe. To do that, he had to fulfill the terms of their bond, and that meant bringing her to Pell.
Brends brought the SUV to a teeth-jarring stop.
Brends was out of the SUV before the vehicle had stopped rolling. “Move over.” He indicated the driver’s seat with a flick of his wrist. The look on his face didn’t invite discussion, so Mischka slid over.
Dathan and Pell were hunkered down behind a vehicle of their own, and Dathan was squeezing off rounds of ammo from a gun while Pell reloaded an empty clip. They’d pulled halfway off the road, but then life had apparently interfered in the form of a steady trickle of dark shadows sliding from a fissure in the wall. She didn’t need to be one of the Fallen to know that the breach was bad. Very bad.
“Get in.” Dathan practically shoved Pell into the interior of the SUV. Without so much as a hey-how-are-you, he strode off, pulling knives from his leather duster.
Oh, my God. Pell. Her eyes met her cousin’s and she felt the impact of that gaze. Something snapped and she saw Brends swaying on his feet. For a moment, he looked as if he’d been struck, and then that hard, cold look was back in his eyes. “I’ve kept my end of our bargain. You’ve kept yours. You can go now.”
He was done with her. Just like that.
She had her cousin back, she’d paid her price, and now her business here with Brends was done. Over. She could leave.
So why was she still hesitating? He’d never indicated that he wanted their relationship to last longer than their bond. Sticking around would only, she admitted, end in hot sex and a broken heart.
And Brends didn’t look particularly sentimental.
“Go,” he snapped. “Drive like hell and don’t stop. Backup team is two miles and closing. They’ll hold the perimeter until you’re through.”
The sounds of battle were getting closer and the flash of fire from her right was a serious heads-up. A tall, broad-shouldered, dark-featured male strode through the gathering shadows. Not one of theirs, Mischka decided. A wave of dark menace rolled off him and those shoulders flexed as he drew a blade. Hell, no. She wasn’t stupid enough to tangle with the likes of that.
“I’m going,” she said, but Brends was already gone, on an intercept course for that unfamiliar male. Yeah, part of her wanted to scream and run like hell, but another part of her—that part wanted to stay to watch his back.
“Fasten your seat belt.” She didn’t wait for Pell to comply, just threw the SUV into reverse as Dathan slammed the door and strode off after the unknown male who had just disappeared into the shadows. There was a moment to appreciate the smooth purr of the motor, the slick glide of the clutch as it engaged reverse and then slid into first. Then, her world narrowed to the mercifully empty sliver of road and the shimmering wall in front of her.
“Wait.” Pell reached for the door handle and Mischka punched the lock button on her side. Her cousin wasn’t going anywhere for the moment. “Where the hell does he get off handing me off like some package?” When the handle didn’t give, she turned and glared at Mischka. “Unlock the door, Mischka. You’re not keeping me here.”
She was until they got the hell away from these Preserves. “Be logical, Pell.”
Her cousin snorted inelegantly. “You’re the logical one. You’re the one who plays by all the rules. And look where it got you—knee-deep in the sort of paranormal shit you swore you’d avoid at all costs.”
True. And she was dealing with it, wasn’t she? Why did everyone think she was so rigid, so incapable of change? Brends hadn’t thought that and just the quick memory of his inelegant teasing and wicked touches had her flushing with delicious heat. He made her want to be different, to reach.
Still, there was breaking out of the old—and then there was getting yourself killed. Logic said it was suicide to get involved with the firefight going on behind them. The smart lived to fight another day. “There’s nothing we can do. Not back there.” Would Pell listen to her at all now? “Go back, and our only option is to be cannon fodder.”
Giving up on the door handle, Pell slouched down in her seat. “I’m not helpless, Mischka. There has to be something I can do.”
“You’ve already done it.”
Pell shot her a quick glance. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve already done it,” she repeated. “You’ve been the bait they needed. Why did you come out here?”
Pell glared at her, disbelief painted all over her familiar face. “I asked to come out here. I asked Dathan to take me somewhere safe.”
“Because our rogue was hot on your ass.” And yeah, all of their asses were now on the line, so her cousin could stop being such a whiny ass, shut up, and listen for a change. “So why not hole up in M City? Or one of a dozen other well-guarded, strategic locations? That damn club of theirs, G2’s?”
“You’re swearing.” Pell eyed her as if she’d sprouted a second head.
“Hell, yes, I am.” And it felt good. She understood now why Brends did it so often. Blunt and to the point. “Your Fallen is playing you. Did you really suggest driving all the way out here, just the two of you, like a giant target? Because that’s not really the easiest—or the best—way to keep you safe, now, is it, Pell?”
Beside her, Pell’s eyes narrowed. “Well.” She folded her arms over her chest. “This is just like old times. I fuck up and you come galloping to the rescue.”
“You didn’t fuck up. You made a choice,” she admitted. “And I made a choice, when I decided that you were worth coming after.”
“Well.” Pell eyed her cousin. “This is awkward. You came out here with Brends. They don’t do anything for free.”
“Preaching to the choir.” But paying Brends’s price hadn’t been bad. His price hadn’t been bad at all.
“I didn’t think you’d do it.”
“Bond with one of the Fallen?”
“Yeah.” There was a brief silence and then a familiar sideways glance. “So spill. What’s he like?”
That familiar mischievous grin spread across Pell’s face. Oh, yeah, she’d kill any one of the Fallen—any male—who decided to rip out that spirit and trample on it. “You want to discuss the scenery? Trade recipes? I figure, forewarned is forearmed, right? There’s a whole lot they don’t bother to tell us, just leave us to figure out on our own. If we gang up on them, I figure our odds are better.”
“Odds are better for what? Wrapping them around our little fingers?”
“That too.” Pell raised an eyebrow. “But I was thinking about playing for keeps. How about you?”
How about her? Because, yeah, her game plan was just as ambitious as Pell’s. She was looking for a confession of undying love from a near-immortal male who was sexy as sin and just as stubborn. Were the odds favorable? She didn’t know and all she could do was take a scary-as-hell leap of faith here.
“Me too.” Saying the words out loud, admitting what she wanted, felt good. It felt right.
“Are Mom and Dad okay? Do they know?”
How did you put into words that you’d not only had hot, fabulous sex, but oh, yeah, you’d met the missing half of your soul and run like hell because there was a homicidal maniac tracking your ass?
Mischka shook her head. “They know. They don’t like it.”
“But they’ll still let you bring him home to dinner,” Pell guessed. “So what’s he like?”
Talking was beyond awkward, but they were both trying. Too much water had gone under the bridge to just pick up where they’d left off. Besides, Mischka wasn’t sure she really wanted to go there anyhow. Still, she needed to hear that Pell was okay, that even if bonding with Dathan had been an impulse, her cousin didn’t regret that choice. No buyer’s remorse, because really, why not fuck the rules? She savored the obscenity. Maybe she didn’t have to lose Brends. Not now, not ever.
Pell was staring, which meant Mischka hadn’t responded to some question. Hell. She dragged a hand through her hair and clamped the other down more firmly on the steering wheel.
“Are you okay?” Pell repeated, and Mischka took her eyes off the road long enough to shoot her cousin a look. She was four hundred miles from home, bonded to a fallen angel, with a rogue angel on their heels. There wasn’t a remote chance in hell that she was okay.
“You tell me,” she said instead. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Stupid question. Strike that.” Pell leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs. “Polite chitchat isn’t helping here. Do you know what’s going on back there?”
Pell hadn’t asked? Hadn’t demanded to know? Brends was no longer visible in the rearview mirror. His large body had disappeared, but the sense of loss was greater than that. Every second took her farther from him, and if she was this tense now, how would she feel when they got back to M City? He’d said their bond would end when he brought her to Pell, so presumably these emotions would fade, but it was hard to believe. How could things be over just like that? How could he just let her walk away?
“You really want to leave?” she said, pulling the SUV over to the edge of the road. “I mean, since you’re playing for keeps and all?”
Pell eyed her. Maybe she wasn’t as relaxed as she appeared. Her fingers smoothed the silky fabric of the seat belt, petting the man-made fibers gently. “No,” she said finally. “Of course not.”
“So why are you going?” Maybe Pell’s answer would help her make sense of her own internal conflict. Maybe there was a really good reason why she wanted to flip the SUV around and head right back into the thick of a paranormal battle that would kick her ass.
Pell gave the belt her full attention now. “Dathan wanted me to go,” she said, as if that explained it. Since when had Pell started taking orders from a Goblin? Hell, since when had she? The SUV was slowing down, the countryside on the other side of the bulletproof glass no longer a featureless blur.
“Back?” Mischka asked, and Pell met her eyes. Nodded.
“Back,” she agreed. “Maybe I’m making a mistake, but the bond feels right. He feels right. Dathan is the first man I’ve met who makes me feel this way.”
“Hot sex?” Mischka asked lightly, but she needed to be sure that Dathan was more than just a lover. Her eyes scanned the road for a convenient turnout. Then they could head back and help out with the fight going on by the wall. Or observe, she decided. Sometimes, jumping in hurt more than it helped.
“More than that.” Pell shook her head, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. “He’s not one of my mistakes, Mischka. My mistake was not realizing who he was before now. He’s always been there, but I just didn’t see it. Although,” she continued, shooting her cousin a look, “that’s a whole lot of mistake to be living with. I’m not sure he’s housebroken.”
Maybe her cousin was right. She hoped so, because the look on Pell’s face said she’d fallen hard for Dathan, mistake or no mistake. The idea of a relationship between the two didn’t seem so foreign now, however. Maybe it was because she’d done a little dabbling in the paranormal herself. Or because she wasn’t quite human herself. Quickly, she filled her cousin in on the details of the DNA test, enjoying the shock that Pell couldn’t quite hide.
“You’re not human,” Pell repeated, as if processing the idea. “Not one hundred percent,” she amended. “Wow. But you hate paranormals, Mischka. You always have.”
“People change,” she said simply, as if she could sum up in two words what had happened since she walked into Brends’s club looking for Pell. But she had changed. “And chances are really good, Pell, that you’re not one hundred percent human, either.”
“And that’s why the rogue is hunting me.” Pell nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”
Did it? Mischka wasn’t so sure, but nothing had been the same since Brends had deposited Pell in the SUV and that connection between them—the bond—had snapped like a too-tight rubber band. “You tell me what this means.” She shoved the sleeve of her sweater up her arm, where the black marks were fading right before her eyes. Don’t look. She jerked her gaze back to the road.
“Oh, wow.” Curiosity sparkled in Pell’s eyes. “What did you do, Mischka?”
“Nothing you haven’t done,” she pointed out. Time to see how fast the SUV could fly.
“Well, yeah, but you’re not me, are you? I mean—” Clearly, Pell had a fairly good idea of how that last statement had sounded and was considering a strategic verbal retreat. “You’re the good daughter. If you’d wanted to go in for a little role reversal, I could have used a heads-up.”
“Forgot to send that memo.” A slow smile crossed her face. “Besides, I’m not sure you’re constitutionally capable of it.”
“Dathan would agree with you,” Pell said. She blew an errant lock of hair out of her face. “So.” She sprawled in her seat. “How’d the two of you hook up?”
“At the club. Just like you and Dathan.”
“Hey, I knew him before,” Pell said virtuously. “That was no one-night stand. Dathan and I have known each other for years. And he waited all that time…” She still sounded incredulous about the whole thing. If he was anything like Brends, Mischka figured he’d be stubborn enough not to give up on Pell.
“You should have told me, Pell. About your stalker.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze swiveled out the window. “But there wasn’t anything you could have done and it would have just made you nervous.”
“Wondering if I was going to be next,” she pointed out. “That would have been good information to have.”
“I didn’t know.”
“But you do now.”
“So do you. But it makes sense. We’re family, Mischka.”
Mischka reached out a hand. Not the sort of touch she usually initiated, but tonight she needed—wanted—the contact. “Friends?” Fingers tightened around hers.
“I had no idea,” said the voice from the window, “how sentiment
al you were, bébé.”
Twenty-Two
Between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Or in this particular case, between a rogue Goblin who wanted to kill them and the wall of the Preserves. Floor it quick enough, Mischka’s panicked brain begged, and she’d drive them all into the wall. Problem was, even if she killed herself and Pell, she didn’t know if a simple car crash would take out a near immortal. Not to mention, she didn’t want to die.
Gun, gun, gun, her mind chanted, and her fingers left the wheel, diving for the weapon on the seat beside her.
Pell wrenched at the door handle, shrieking curses. “Unlock the damned door, Mischka!”
The safety locks. She’d locked them in with a monster.
Too late. Eilor’s large fist clubbed Pell in the head. Her skull bounced off the safety glass, and she crumpled sideways in her seat.
Mischka tried to bring the gun up toward her nemesis, awkwardly twisting in the seat while trying to keep one hand on the wheel.
“No, no, little rabbit,” he crooned. Too little. Too late. His dark hands found a nerve point in the side of her neck. He hadn’t even bothered hitting her. The gun slid uselessly from her fingers and her foot eased off the gas pedal as the bright burst of pain blossomed behind her eyes.
Too little. Too late.
The fading marks on her wrists mocked her. She couldn’t even summon up her fallen angel, because he’d set her free. To keep her safe.
Stupid, useless plan. Primitive instinct she hadn’t known she possessed warned her that fate had no intention of handing out second chances. She was alone with her cousin and an insane daemon. She could find a way out—or she could die.
The SUV crunched to a halt.
Wrapping his hands around the female’s neck was deeply satisfying. Plus, Eilor knew he’d left her mate two miles behind him, firing bullets at a few stray rogues he’d lured out of the Preserves. Just a little break in their precious wall, a thin sliver of free space that the thirst-maddened rogues had been quick to use. They could smell the two females Eilor had all to himself.