A twofer.
Quution limped toward him. “Their wounds caught up with them.”
“Yes.”
“Are drug dens always a popular place to recruit hosts?” Tension pinched around Quution’s eyes. He was feeling his host’s pain, and his human would follow the last five hosts if the bleeding continued.
Stryke tore at his undershirt until he freed a strip of fabric. He crossed to Quution before he walked any more blood out of himself and tied the cloth around his thigh, above his wound. Quution hissed when Stryke knotted it with extra force.
“I’m sure the hosts are coerced with promises of drugs, money, or food, but they’re only paid in death. Come on.” Stryke nudged his shoulder under Quution’s. “I don’t want to wait while you find another host.”
Together, they hobbled to the road and turned to head toward their hosts’ pickup.
He heard the rumble of the engine with his human ears almost as soon as the SUV was on them, but he couldn’t whip around without upsetting Quution’s balance.
“Stryke?”
Stryke’s eyes drifted shut for a heartbeat. The sexiness of her voice shouldn’t affect him so. He halted the thrill that surged through him that she sensed it was him even though they were no longer bonded. Stop that shit before it started.
“I guess we’ll face the vampires sooner than later, Brother.” Quution’s wry chuckle only irritated Stryke further.
With halting steps, they swung around. Zoey was in the passenger seat, her face filled with dismay and dare he hope…anticipation?
The SUV screeched to a stop. Creed hopped out and slammed the door behind him. He marched toward the brothers as he drew his sidearm. “Which one of you fuckers do I need to kill to get to the underworld right now?”
Stryke’s brows popped up. Of course, he’d known Zoey’s team would attempt a rescue, but Creed was a little more…impatient…than he’d expected.
“We do not wish these hosts any more harm than we’ve brought to them,” Stryke said.
Creed’s expression said he didn’t give a shit, he’d gut them and crawl inside before the portal opened.
Zoey exited the SUV, her advance more cautious. “Who’s that?” She jutted her chin toward Quution.
Even without that damn bond, his blood still sang for her. Like it wanted to present itself on a silver fucking platter for her to sup on. But that train had left the station and he had to try to find a way to work with her without upsetting his balance. Without wanting to shuck everything to the curb the second she beckoned for him in any way.
Back to the question. The muscles between his shoulder blades cramped and not from bearing Q’s weight. Because how was this explanation going to go over?
“Not out here,” Quution said. His face was pale, but not gray and ashen. They had time.
“He’s right. This explanation cannot take place in the open.”
Creed was on him in a second, a cold barrel pressed to Stryke’s temple. “How fucking convenient. Are you trying to get inside the compound because Yancy could only abscond with Melody?”
His voice cracked slightly on the girl’s name.
Well, wasn’t that enlightening. Suddenly, any hostility Stryke had toward the male drained away. The male no longer held a torch for Zoey, but he’d be a lot less screwed if he did. Stryke’s own bad odds had proven insurmountable. A vampire and human combo had even less of a chance. Just like Melody in the underworld.
Pity must’ve shown through his host’s eyes because Creed’s aim wavered until he finally dropped his arm. He didn’t holster his weapon but looked around. The crashed car and bloodstains hinted at the battle that had taken place.
Creed’s words were bleak. “Did you get them all?”
“Yes.”
Zoey had reached them and was watching Creed closely. She must’ve come to the same conclusion Stryke had about the male’s feelings toward the doomed girl.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’ve found a cause I can get behind,” Stryke said more snidely than he’d intended. He tightened his hold on Quution and prompted him to start limping to the SUV, which was closer.
They loaded Quution in the backseat. The tourniquet was working, but if they didn’t get the host to a hospital, he’d lose his leg and maybe his life. The two vampires jumped in and Creed punched down the gas as he squealed a U-turn and sped toward the compound. Zoey had her phone out, texting furiously.
“Just park in the garage so we can talk securely,” Stryke ordered. “This man needs medical attention soon.”
Creed glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You just killed five humans.”
“Regrettable.” And, he found, it actually was. Those hosts had likely been tricked into agreement. Their fate would’ve been the same, unfortunately. “However, I’m sure Zoey has explained how I can enter a host without their permission. These two hosts did not acquiesce.”
Creed inclined his head, his eyes going back to the road.
Sure she had. Spilled everything. Probably even spilled about her blood disorder. No, he couldn’t be resentful about that. They needed to know before she became a detriment in the field—for herself and others.
“These hosts don’t need to perish,” Quution gritted out, his leg straightened across Stryke’s lap.
“What? Like you’d feel guilty.” And Creed was back to directing his hostility toward him and his brother.
“Yes. Does that surprise you? That I give a shit about more than myself and…” Stryke’s gaze flicked toward Zoey when he trailed off.
“Shit shouldn’t catch me off guard anymore,” Creed muttered. “Not after having Fyra under the same roof for over a month.”
The compound loomed in front of them. The garage was already opening, shadows moving around inside. Zoey was nothing if not efficient.
Cap the damn bitterness.
They pulled in and Creed flung open a door so the others could hear. “Start talking.”
Chapter Seventeen
Melody’s ragged breathing filled her own ears as searing pain blazed through her shoulder.
Oh god. Was this how awful her father had felt when he’d died? No wonder he’d wanted to go.
She whimpered and rolled to her knees. Why was it so dark? She’d been proud of how well she’d developed her night vision since caring for two vampire boys, but only torchlight flickered where she was now.
Torchlight?
Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.
She wasn’t where she thought she was…was she?
Ohmigod, ohmigo—ouch.
Looking left and right had irritated her shoulder, ratcheting up the pain to unbearable levels. She cradled her left elbow in her other hand and swayed to a stand. Only all those years hunting with her dad kept her on her feet. A girl didn’t get weak after tromping through the woods and forests for days at a time in search of big game.
The temperature was pleasantly warm here, whereas she’d been chilled blasting out of the compound in a sweater and jeans.
All those long talks with Grace rushed back. Host death. Portals. Her stomach heaved and she wanted to throw up. She released a shaky breath.
“Oh hell. I’m in Hell.”
No wait. Just the underworld.
Melody chuckled, then winced. “Just” the underworld. How tilted had her world become?
Her dear, sweet employers were going to blame themselves so hard for Melody’s predicament when it was her own damn fault. She’d only left Xavier and Ari for two minutes to fix a snack while their parents took a breather and enjoyed some alone time. Creed had said he’d rigged the door so it was childproof. But Creed didn’t have kids, probably hadn’t been around many, and didn’t realize that no device was childproof, just child-delaying.
Creed.
She drew in another tremulous breath. Her knees quaked. Was she going into shock? Thinking about Creed didn’t normally cause this strong of a physical reaction.
That was a lie�
��it used to. But her raging crush had diminished after she’d overheard his conversation about her with Rourke. She was another forgettable human, according to him. Between her short life span and the epic amount of money he came from, nothing was going to happen.
Can’t a girl have a healthy case of hero worship and not get vehemently insulted?
Wooziness hit her hard. She stumbled around, looking for a place to sit before she passed out and ate dirt.
She squeaked and flattened her hand over her racing heart. A giant female demon was watching her with a disgusting tilt to her lush mouth. The gender was obvious because—no clothes. Not a stitch. Heavy breasts drooped from her chest, and the junction of her thighs… well, she had all the standard pieces. The female had—oh dear lord, were those horns? Turgid, purple shanks jutted out from the demon’s forehead. And—holy smokes!—they moved like tentacles. And—Melody gulped—wickedly curved claws tipped each finger.
“Oh my—”
“Shut your mouth.” The demoness enunciated around a mouthful of pointed teeth and made it look effortless. “Don’t speak such language.”
Melody snapped her mouth shut with a squeak. She clutched her elbow, her shoulder was on fire, and her tremors were growing stronger. What was going to happen?
The demon’s blazing emerald eyes drifted shut and she dragged in a deep breath. Melody recalled her name. Hypna. “Mmm. I love the smell of blood in my home.”
Melody glanced around as if she’d find another source of blood. As if her sweater weren’t saturated and tacky as new blood mixed with drying blood.
The demon cocked her head. “Such a little thing. And all that hair reminds me of obnoxious summer sunlight.” Her horns speared toward Melody, jolting her back. From this close, the iridescent drops draining from the tips seized Melody with desperation. She feared she’d hurl and it’d ignite her injury further and piss off the she-demon.
For once, Melody was speechless.
Hypna advanced, the tips of her sharp horns tracking Melody as she backed up.
“You work for them, yes? The vampires?”
Melody’s eyes grew as round as the clay discs she’d used trapshooting.
“Yes,” Hypna purred. “You are valuable to them, otherwise they wouldn’t employ you. Or!”
Melody jumped and her back hit the wall. Another wave of nausea rolled through her as it jarred her painful bullet wound. The point of Hypna’s horn lifted a curl stuck on Melody’s face.
“Or…you’re their toy? Yes?”
Was it better or worse to let the demon think that? On the one hand, she’d didn’t want to be seen as complete garbage to be cast aside or worse, if Hypna thought she was worthless. On the other hand, after what Creed had said about her, Melody was loath to pretend to be his, or anyone else’s, toy.
Hypna tugged hard on her hair. “Answer me!”
“I w-work for them.”
“Eh, good enough.” Hypna clapped a hand on her good shoulder and dug her claws in.
Melody’s knees gave out, but she didn’t fall with the demon’s hold on her.
“Now, let’s wrap you up like good little bait.” Her lips curled in a cruel smile and roots shot out of the wall on each side of Melody’s head.
She let out a startled gasp as the spindly vines wrapped themselves around her. As more and more roots birthed from the dirt surface and fastened her to the wall, Melody’s tremors had no way to express themselves in her tightly secured body.
Her wail started as a moan and turned to a full-throated scream, accompanied only by Hypna’s evil laugh.
***
Zoey had stayed in the passenger seat of the SUV. The story spilled from Stryke. Quution panted, doing the demon equivalent of Lamaze through his painful leg cramps.
Demetrius, Bishop, and Rourke surrounded the vehicle. Her door hung open and Creed’s window was open.
“What are they going to do with Melody?” Creed asked. “She’s not a baby. She’s a fucking human. Is she dead already? Would Hypna try to fuck her, too, before she kills her? Would she kill her trying to fuck her? Oh hell, she has that poison shit, right?”
Zoey laid her hand on Creed’s arm. He was rattling rapid-fire—exactly like Melody would when she was nervous. His panic diverted her attention from Stryke and his brother. Their tale was probable and she’d love to believe that he was truly dedicated to saving babies. But she’d have to trust Quution for that and she’d been burned, literally, by him before.
Their theories would explain a lot. The recent spike in activity. What was a demon’s gestation time anyway?
“Is the power cumulative or does the spell wear off?” she asked. Stryke sat right behind her so she shifted in her seat until she was sideways.
Foolishness twined around her heart. She’d been afraid to look at him, but he was in his host, talking with his host’s voice. His presence filled the cab like he was in his true form… which he couldn’t do because she’d forced him to break their bond.
Quution answered, his voice strained with pain. “The young are sacrificed and the power transfer is permanent, albeit smaller as they haven’t grown into their abilities. It’s why we don’t sacrifice adults. The transfer could kill us. Sometimes it’s tried temporarily, but unless one side submits, it usually fails.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Demon balls, won’t this leg ever go numb? I didn’t think humans were so resilient.”
“Take us back to our car,” Stryke said. “We’ll drive somewhere and call an ambulance, then jet back home and find your girl. But…” His gaze found Demetrius standing by the driver’s door. “We need Fyra or the big guy to come with.”
“Why?” Bishop and Demetrius asked at the same time.
Stryke held up his hands to indicate his body. “I can no longer travel back and forth between the realms. Melody will need someone to transport her, if—” He cut off with a grimace.
Creed jumped on the change. “If what? If she’s alive?”
Stryke leveled him with a serious stare. “If she can even get back. She’s human. I don’t know that any have escaped the underworld.”
Before they perished, Zoey finished mentally for him.
“Then we both go with,” Bishop rumbled, his arms crossed over his massive chest. “Two of us will have better odds transporting her. Meet us in her old chamber.”
Stryke and Quution both nodded.
“It’s decided, then.” Creed fired up the engine and opened the garage door.
Demetrius knocked on the hood. “Go to the intersection of the highway and head north five miles. I don’t want the humans sniffing around here. We already have a mess to clean.”
“Wait.” Zoey swung her legs back in and shut the door before Creed could back it out of the garage and take off. “Bishop, can you and Fyra get me down there, too?”
Her hand was still on the door handle and she squeezed until her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t be left behind. Yeah, there was work here to do, but she needed to save Melody, needed to be with Stryke—to check out his story.
She was not going to be pathetic about this. The situation was urgent and a friend was in trouble, but Zoey had been hoping for more than a cool reception from Stryke. He and his brother—geez that was weird—wanted to form an alliance. He hadn’t come back to rekindle anything with Zoey. She’d thought they’d last parted with him saving her. Had she been in any real danger?
At the time—yes and no.
Stryke’s gaze flicked to her. It was the host’s eyes, black from possession, so unlike Stryke’s real eyes, and packing none of the heat he used to reserve just for her. “They shouldn’t waste their power. Like Demetrius said, you have plenty to do up here.”
“Fuck that.” Creed cranked the wheel around and stomped on the gas. They peeled away from the compound, bumping along the road to Quution’s groans. “We’re finding some damn second-tier to burn and get a one-way ticket.”
Stryke gripped the front seat and leaned forward, careful of Quut
ion’s leg. “And if you do, how will you get back?”
“You two can do the bond thing again.”
Zoey’s chest froze and she stared. Stryke remained immobile behind her. Even Quution had silenced his agony.
“She’s made her choice,” Stryke said in a flat voice. “I’ve made mine.”
“You can change your mind.” The speedometer needle rose as Creed gave the gas pedal all he had. “There’s a life at stake.”
“Along with Zoey’s. You recall she’d lose her station if she stayed with me. And I’ve sworn myself to another.”
Zoey whipped her had back before she could stop herself. “So soon?” Derision dripped from those two words.
“Relax, Zohana,” Stryke chided. “Remember, once severed, I cannot bond myself to another. But I’ve sworn myself to aiding the underworld’s young.”
“There’s a life at stake,” Creed repeated.
A metallic glint in the bare tree branches was rapidly approaching. It’d only taken Creed minutes to find the spot. He skidded to a stop.
Zoey clenched her jaw as she opened doors for Stryke to haul Quution out. He cradled the host all the way to the hidden truck where Zoey did a repeat of her doorman duties.
Stryke levered himself behind the wheel. “Tell Bishop ten minutes, we’ll be there.”
“I’ll find a way down.”
Creed honked the horn and she tossed him a scowl.
“No, you won’t.” His tone wasn’t belittling, just accepting. “Because you have a job to do. Yes, young Melody is in danger, possible even dead already. But you’re on the Synod to protect many more than just her. If you chased me to the underworld, you might not get back to do your job. You’d be in danger constantly. You’re committed.” He reached out to gently tug the door from her hands. “And so am I.”
She stepped clear as he angled the car out of the trees and onto the blacktop. She watched him drive away and jumped when the SUV pulled up inches away from her.
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