Into the Light (The Admiral's Elite Book 2)

by HK Savage

  Her pleading should have been enough to break his hold. Normally willing to do anything to bring a smile to her face, Ryan never said no if she asked. Only that was when she didn’t have a demon luring her out into the woods on a nightly basis. Nor were those occasions when she was dreaming nonstop about her ex-boyfriend. And never had he felt so close to losing her as he did that morning. He felt her slipping away from him.

  “Gabrielle, stop.”

  Whether it was the hand or the commanding tone he took on, he didn’t know. Regardless, it worked. She halted in place and remained stationary while he stepped in front of her, though after a few shorts seconds of acquiescence, she attempted to pry his hand off of hers again.

  “Let me go, Ryan,” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

  For an instant his fingers loosened on their own before he clamped down again and locked her other wrist in his hand, taking care not to hurt her. It took a breath or two before he could push down his annoyance enough to soften his voice. They couldn’t risk a domestic right there on the street; they were only a few blocks from the police station and they weren’t going to be much help to their unit if they were tied up being booked for disorderly conduct.

  “No, not until you tell me what the hell this is supposed to prove.” Some small hint of malice crept out despite his best efforts. “I’m tired of following you around while you chase ghosts, waiting for it to be you laying there with your chest ripped open.”

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “We got the windigo, nobody else is getting their chest ripped out.”

  Ryan felt his fraying control let go and he leaned in close to her face so that she was all he could see and he bared his teeth, growing longer by the second. “Are you goddamn stupid?”

  Amber eyes went wide but not in fear. Nostrils flaring, Gabrielle refused to give him an inch. “Actually, I think I’m one of the few keeping my head here,” she hissed at him. “Michael, I’m sure relaying our commanding officer’s direct orders, asked us to track this thing. I’m tracking it with whatever means available to me.” Her eyes darted to the side, trying to catch sight of her ghost again before he disappeared. She took a step. “I know it’s not real.”

  He caught the minor hesitation in her words and knew she was minimizing the absolute control this thing had over her. The continual tugs she was trying, testing the solidity of his hold, didn’t escape his notice either. If he didn’t let her go, she would become violent. But he loved her. And that superseded everything else for him at that moment. Ryan’s fingers held tight and he shifted to block her. He could take a little damage.

  “You think catching a demon’s lackey makes this no big deal?” He caught sight of a middle-aged woman standing behind Gabrielle, paying way too much attention to them, and clamped his mouth shut on his canines. Inhaling through his nose and breathing out his mouth, he soothed his beast barely enough to keep it below the surface. Ryan lowered his voice. “This thing was the one calling the shots. That means it’s stronger than the windigo and it’s still out there. If you were thinking straight, you’d know that.”

  Her eyes swam with an unmistakable wetness. One Ryan had never seen there before and he felt his chest swell with hope that he was getting through.

  “I am thinking straight, Ryan,” she whispered, her eyes glittering. “More so than I have in a long time. I’m sorry I’ve let this thing with us go on so long, but it’s time I made things right. It’s over. Now. Let me go.”

  This time when she wiggled in his fingers to loosen their hold, he let them open. Gabrielle’s cutting words had eviscerated him so thoroughly he lost the will to hold her back. Her wish that he remain her guard dog, trailing behind only to be called up should she need him was clear. And, as much as he hated it, he fell in step behind her. She was cruel but honest. She had never given him false hope, he’d managed to build that all by himself. But she was his fellow soldier and he loved her as a woman. For either of those reasons alone he would help her whether she wanted him or not. When combined, he knew he would die happy if he knew he had taken her place under the demon’s hands.

  Chapter 27

  “Is she able to speak?”

  “She did at first. Now she’s nonresponsive.” Michael’s eyes spun sideways for the millionth time to see that Becca’s glazed expression focused on some unseen point in the distance.

  “Can you tell where it is leading her?” Black, at least, kept his head.

  “No.”

  “Try, Michael.” Black was unwilling to take his Second’s panicky answer.

  Even over that great distance, the tightness in his skull reminded Michael of his obligation to the admiral. With great difficulty, Michael let his gaze be torn from his love to search for road signs as well as possible destinations. When, after a few seconds he tried to tell Black it was no use, the pressure in his head increased and he winced. There was silence on the line while Black waited for him to do as he’d been told.

  Blinking his eyes, relieved when the pain dissipated as quickly as it had come on, Michael let his peripheral tracking follow Becca while he maintained his close proximity. Meanwhile, he scanned the buildings, searching for one that might suit a ley line demon’s tastes. Whatever those might be.

  As far as he knew the demon would remain under the surface, following the path of the lines, coming up only to feed upon the energies of its victims. Energy was its one known desire, whether that be from passion or fear didn’t seem to matter to this one. With the windigo gone, it had yet to prove itself a killer, though that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibilities. Like Black said, these sorts of demons had been known to throw entire cities into riots just to feed off of the maelstrom and, once that happened, no one could predict a human’s safety.

  Michael knew that Becca was strong, he’d tasted her before and since she’d become like him. He knew that once the demon discovered her it wouldn’t let her go. Whether it decided to drain her or use her to create a riot, he didn’t believe she would survive its visit. Images of the dance floor in the club the night before brought another possibility to mind and Michael felt his vampire clawing the back of his neck. He growled.

  “Mind yourself, Michael,” Black cautioned. “You are her survival as well as any in the town who might be caught in the middle. If you lose control, you help no one. You fail in your mission, you fail her, and you fail me.”

  Black’s worst-case scenario trifecta worked. Michael stood straighter and walked as close as he could to Becca without their flesh touching. “Yes. Sir.”

  “Good.” Black’s satisfaction, for once, didn’t seem to stem from his hold over the captain, but rather from relief. His tone softened minutely. “Now, look again. Where would a demon want to take a human to get the most energy? Somewhere he could drain her without interruption.”

  Sparing a quick glance at Becca’s rigid frame and pale face, noticing the bruises under her eyes were growing worse with the strain, Michael gritted his teeth. Black was right, the only way to help her was to be ready when this thing showed itself. He would take great pleasure in tearing its limbs from its earthly body.

  He tore his eyes from her and let his anger fuel his senses, flooding them until he was nearly overwhelmed by his surroundings. The light breeze lifted his hair, tossing it and he swore it was being plucked from his scalp. Light breaking through the patchy cloud cover burned his eyes and he blinked, lowering his lids to shield them from the glare. Garbage from dumpsters behind the local shops, wet, earthy scents from the street competed with each other to set his nostrils to tingling.

  “Michael,” Black cautioned him to reel himself in. Distance was nothing when one knew another’s soul. The admiral could read Michael’s continued struggle in his silence and used centuries of understanding motivation to help his Second. “Shut out everything but her. What is her course? Has her pace increased?” Black let him consider his answers and asked a last question. “Can you feel its energy?”

  Taking a deep breath and
breathing out his nose to clear the acrid scents of city from his nostrils, Michael dipped his head and felt the burning lessen. Fortunately, winter sun in this snowy state was not strong enough to harm him and he felt his body come back under his control.

  “Very good, Michael,” Black encouraged. “Now, what do you feel?”

  Unzipping the coat he’d been wearing, Michael shrugged and let it fall from his shoulders, dipping his phone hand he let it slip off to land on the cement behind him without making a move to stop it. His sleeves, already rolled up, exposed his forearms. Skin open to the vibrations of demonic energy, Michael waited. Not for long. With his mind calm and flesh exposed, it was less than a minute before he felt the tingling once again on his arms. “I feel it,” he breathed into the phone.

  Black said nothing, only waited.

  Several more steps and Becca stumbled at the curb. Without thinking, Michael’s hand shot out and caught her elbow.

  Black’s stern reprimand joined Becca’s outcry in Michael’s ears.

  “Sorry,” he told them both.

  “If it has possessed her, you cannot touch her without the demon knowing it. It feels any reaction her body has to yours.” Black spoke evenly, glossing over the facts with no hint of emotion. “It will not risk her wasting her energy on anyone save it.”

  For a second Michael almost smiled before he remembered himself. Becca would be mortified if she’d heard Black talking about how her body reacted to Michael’s touch. He knew the thrill it caused her; he felt it as well. That and he could sense her body’s changes when he was near. Usually it filled him with a Neanderthal pride, knowing he had that sort of pull with her. With it causing her discomfort, he felt a sense of shame at it this time. Oddly, the fear that Black would use it to bind her to him had dissipated.

  Through Michael, Black already had control of her. If he were going to use it, he would have by now. Michael finally realized that. He had been so blinded by his fear that Becca would see his bond as a weakness, he’d failed to see that Black had grown to view her as an asset and not just a disposable pawn. Feeling that knowledge filter through his brain, he was liberated temporarily until reality set in yet again.

  “Sir.” Michael acknowledged his superior and brought his rambling, racing thoughts back to heel. Unlike the windigo, the demon was confined to the ley lines where the earth’s energy was strongest. All of the demon’s activities had been isolated to this main track through town Becca now was tied to, telling him that the ley line they were following was on this street. That limited their options to this straight line only. The next question would be whether the demon would want more bodies or just Becca. At this hour, evening hotspots were out. However, they had gone past the coffee shop and bakery already; the morning gathering places. “Where are you taking her?” he wondered under his breath.

  Waiting, Black let Michael study the details without interruption.

  Right about then the marquis protruding over the sidewalk blocked the sun and Becca made a sharp left, stopping abruptly when she slammed into the glass door. To his horror, instead of putting out her hands to open the door or even to brace herself, she backed up a step and went forward again. The glass cracked in several places.

  “Becca stop!” he shouted at her. There was no getting between her and the glass and to move her bodily would be to hurt her. Frozen, he watched her body follow instructions only she could hear.

  “Where…?” Was all he heard in his ear before his hand crushed the phone and the worthless pieces rained down on the cement with empty clatters.

  She made no indication she had heard him. Stepping forward again, her body whacked the glass and Michael heard it shatter. The smell of blood assailed his nostrils and his vampire raged. I will kill it!

  Biting back the reluctance he felt, he launched himself between Becca and the breaking door before she could strike it again. Crying out in agony, she threw back her head and tensed her muscles as the demon possessing her voiced its opinion over having its vessel touched by another.

  Mine. His vampire ground out in a low voice not heard by human ears in thirty years. At least not any that survived.

  Becca’s body jerked and her jaw fell open as the demon’s control hiccupped. It was only for a second, but long enough for Michael to rip the door open, breaking its lock, and whipping her through to set her back down on her feet before she could be used as a battering ram again. Jaw clamping back shut, Becca limped forward through the sparsely lit foyer, across the dark blue carpet ornamented with kettle-sized depictions of dancing popcorn puffs and soda cups with jauntily tilted straws as the demon’s control was renewed.

  Below her knee, the front of her dark pants glistened as the blood leaked from a gash in her knee. The right side of her face darkened as well from the tear in her scalp just above her hairline. Michael smelled more emanating from somewhere under her coat and was more than alarmed that she would soon weaken from the blood loss. A hint of some foreign scent in her blood gave him pause, though there was no time to consider what it was. She continued to follow.

  Ryan trailed Gabrielle, his awareness capturing the change in her stride when the demon began to guide her again. The need to take her bodily from that place, far from where anything could hurt her or force her into submission was physical and Ryan felt the seams let go as he shoved his hands deeper in his pockets.

  Two men dressed in the neon-striped coveralls of road workers split to give him a wide berth when they passed him on the sidewalk. Ducking his eyes, he glowered impotently at his shoes, tracking her with his other senses. It wouldn’t work for them to have the police called in now. He could imagine that detective facing off with a demon. The mental picture of his bulging eyes and wet pants brought out a nasty chuckle that sent a courier walking behind them rushing around and out in front of him like someone poked him in the ass with a hot prod.

  Her light steps diverted, carrying her into the street, and Ryan looked up. A dark green minivan with one headlight was coming down the street toward her, its speed unchecked. A quick glance through the windshield revealed its dark-skinned driver’s eyes were down, on a phone was Ryan’s guess. Cursing, he sped up and snared her around the waist with one thick arm less than two feet before the van reached her, not setting her down again until they reached the other side. Several gasps and one stray scream, the only indicators her apparent suicide or his daring rescue were even noticed. He gave silent thanks they weren’t in a busier city or it wasn’t rush hour. Although that might have required fancier footwork than the simple snatch and grab he’d performed. If it hadn’t been Gabs, he wouldn’t have even broken a sweat. But it was Gabs and he feared losing her. Moisture had sprung up under his arms and was already beginning to run down his back and into his waistbands.

  Feet set back on the cement, Gabrielle resumed her measured strides without pause while Ryan panted and staggered on shaking thighs before he collected himself with a quick glance around to make sure no one was following. Typical humans, they notice as soon as something upsets their routine, but would never dream of wading in to offer help or ask what happened.

  Again his thoughts turned bitter as Ryan’s memory briefly traipsed past his last sweating, staggering walk as a human through his own small town. A young soldier on leave, struggling to return home after being attacked by what he’d believed at the time to be a giant dog or bear. No one helped him or spoke to him, even those for whom he’d mowed lawns, pumped gas, and delivered papers as a youngster. Not a peep. They’d let him go, to spend the next month sweating, healing and seeing visions of impossible things alone in the house his family had left him. When his first change came and he felt the irresistible urge to leave his home in favor of the woods, he knew he would never see any of them again. That staggering, sickly man had been the image they would forever recall when talking about young Ryan Hallbeck who had gotten some wild hair to all of a sudden up and sell the family place, never to be heard from again.

  Shaking off the
familiar bitterness he never allowed himself to feel, he concentrated on the woman who needed him, even if she didn’t love him. Just as he caught up to her, she turned down an alley and walked up the short set of metal steps to pull on a metal door leading into the back of some undistinguishable brick building. The screeching of a metal lock breaking reached his ears as he took the first step and he caught the door before it closed. A few seconds of blinking and his eyes adjusted. He could smell old butter and the syrupy sweetness of a soda machine. Were those popcorn men wearing suits

  on the carpet? “I’m not dying here,” he thought as the door settled back into its frame with a scrape, leaving them in the quiet darkness.

  Chapter 28

  The burning in Becca’s body was intense. She’d lost all sense of time and place, seeing only the flames that had haunted her for months. She felt nothing but heat all around her and the stroking of the flames as they seared her flesh. She could smell her skin cooking, hear it crackling as the ley line demon beckoned her ever onward.