by L. E. Wilson
“Think you can just walk on out of here?” he murmured, squeezing her ass so hard she was going to have bruises. “I own you, chica. You’re not going anywhere.”
Ryan’s stomach lurched again and she prayed she wouldn’t vomit all over his arm. He would beat her bloody for the offense, if he were allowed to get that far. She wondered what was making him so ballsy now. This wasn’t going to end well for him if the drugs wore off, and he knew it. And then she wondered why she cared. “Let go of me,” she gritted out.
A chilly touch slithered across her skin like a lover’s caress, and her eyes widened in fear.
It was too late.
“Let go,” a voice whispered in the air next to them. “Release her,” another one breathed from the other side.
He either didn’t hear them, or maybe he chose to ignore them, idiot that he was. His wet mouth slobbered down over her shoulder, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake. Ryan squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t keep back the flow of tears.
They were back. The voices. They were back. She couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or terrified.
A loud screech suddenly rent the air, and she was slammed into the wall as her attacker released her and jumped away, crossing himself as he spun around in a circle, searching for the thing that had made such a horrible noise. “Dios mío!” Grabbing her by the upper arm, he took off down the hall again, dragging her along behind him.
Unseen entities kept pace with them, rushing past in a blur of noise and wind, only to turn around and do it again. When he still refused to acknowledge them, one shoved him from behind.
He yanked Ryan to him and gripped her around the throat with one large hand. “Knock it off, or I will break her neck. Do you hear me, demonios?”
“Kill him.”
“Run.”
“Blood. Kill.”
The voices urged her to defend herself, or maybe they were just telling her what they wanted to do. They got stuck on repeat and the words got mixed up, echoing around and around until she slapped her hands over her ears. It didn’t help. They were in her head.
He backed away, holding her in front of him like a human shield. It wouldn’t save him if they decided to physically intervene.
Go away. Go away. Go away. She didn’t know why she bothered to pray. It had never worked before. There was only one thing that helped: Shooting herself so full of opiates that her receptors shut down.
They arrived at a large steel door, and he whipped out a set of keys to unlock the large padlock. Yanking the heavy door open, he slid his hand around to the back of her neck and shoved her inside so hard she twisted her ankle and sprawled face first across the bare concrete floor. Pulling a couple of plastic bags from his pocket, he tossed them at her and slammed the door shut with a loud clank.
Ryan lay there, overwhelmed by the voices that never went away unless she was chasing the dragon. But a rustling sound just behind her had her scrambling up onto her knees. Grabbing the bags off the floor, she held them tight to her chest. Her eyes were wild and desperate as they landed on the young dark-haired girl in front of her.
The girl held her small hands up in front of her. “It’s okay, miss. It’s just me. I was just coming to help you.”
“Jose.” Ryan exhaled on a breath of relief. Holding out her hand to the girl, she waited until she’d taken it and then pulled her back into the corner with her. Staring daggers at the other four women in the room leaning against the walls in various forms of undress, she warned them away without having to speak a word.
Jose, or Josefina, was a fourteen-year-old girl. She’d been traded by an uncle of hers to buy passage across the border, and now the sons of bitches that ran this place whored her young body out to any man, or woman, who would pay. Even American tourists came across the border from Southern California to enjoy all of the attractions to be had in the red district of Tijuana, including underage girls.
They both got through each day the same way.
Ryan was shaking so bad by now that Jose had to take the bag from her. “It’s okay. I’ll help you.” Shaking out the contents, she dumped the powder into the small tin bowl, added the water, and lit a lighter underneath until it was dissolved. She dropped a small wad of cotton into the bowl, and stabbed the needle of the syringe through it to suck up the liquid.
Taking Ryan’s top out of her jerky fingers, Jose pulled her arm out straight and tied it around her upper arm. She tapped until she found a vein. “Are you ready?” she asked.
By this time, the voices were a cacophony of noise, shouting at her all at once until she felt like screaming right along with them. Her jaw was clenched against the rolling of her stomach and her cheeks were streaked with tears. Tears for the girl in front of her who was little more than a child. And tears for herself.
She nodded. “Please, Jose…”
Jose inserted the needle with an expertise that no young girl should have. Large, sad brown eyes glanced up at her. “It’s okay. I know…I know…”
As she slowly pushed the plunger down, Ryan told her, “Thank you. You can have the…” She didn’t know if she ever finished the sentence, for the drug took affect then, and her body became weightless as her eyes rolled back and her body slouched against the wall.
The voices faded away little by little until she couldn’t hear them anymore. And she was gone.
Chapter 3
Aiden stopped typing as a delicious scent drifted over to him through the open door of Luukas’ office. Slamming the laptop closed, he was at the front door of the apartment within the space of a heartbeat. Feminine laughter sounded from the other side, and he yanked the door open and grabbed the nearest female. Pulling her tight up against him, he kissed her soundly on her luscious mouth as the other two walked past them and into the apartment, continuing their conversation as if they hadn’t just lost one of their group. The woman he held squealed as the bag of groceries she was carrying got squished between them.
“Hallo, poppet.” He let his eyes roam over her beloved face.
Grace laughed up at him. “How do you always know I’m coming?”
Ah. His female always knew exactly what to say to get him all riled up. One eyebrow lifted. “Well, you’re not coming yet, luv, but I can take care of that just as soon as I finish finding the location of this van for Luukas.” Grabbing a handful of her thick auburn hair, he lifted it to his nose. He loved her hair. It was long and soft and felt wonderful as it tickled his bare chest and belly.
She smacked him on the arm as a warm blush stole up her cheeks. “Dude! There are other people here!” she whispered.
Narrowing his eyes, he told her, “What have I told you about calling me ‘dude’?” He kissed her again, smacked her on her voluptuous bum, and then rubbed the sore cheek. His hand may have drifted down between her legs a bit, feeling her womanly heat until she was moaning and pressing her hips into his erection.
Much as he wanted to drag her to their bedroom and ease the unbearable tightness he now had in his pants, he had some work to do first. Pulling away with a silent groan of regret, there was a teasing glint in his eyes as he said, “Grace, luv, there are people here.”
Rolling her eyes, she sighed longingly and then left him to go join Keira and Emma at the kitchen counter.
As he watched her walk away, he felt something stir inside of him, and it wasn’t just the unnatural lust he felt for her that was always simmering just beneath the surface. No, this was something else entirely. Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Aiden waited until his demon settled down again.
Stand down, old man.
After a few moments, it did.
Waano, the demon that now shared space inside of him thanks to a demented female’s plan to take over the world, had been rather quiet since he’d failed in his attempt to goad her into killing his host — aka, Aiden — and therefore releasing him. At least in theory. They really didn’t know for certain if that would have worked. Aiden was glad, as he was
rather attached to his body, host or not, and would prefer to stay inside of it.
Luckily, Leeha was dead now, taken out by a werewolf friend of theirs. Aiden had added her head to his collection as a memento, for sentimental reasons. At one time he’d been quite enraptured by the female, in spite of her tendencies to run amok. Of course, that was before he’d met Grace.
Not for the first time, he wondered how her death had affected the rest of the vampires she’d possessed. It was assumed they were still alive. Otherwise Luukas, the master vampire who had created them all, would have been impacted by their deaths. Especially if they’d keeled over all at once.
At least that’s what they all assumed. But then again, after Aiden had become a host for one of Leeha’s demons, it had been her blood that had reanimated him, and therefore her blood that had called to him. Not Luukas’. So maybe their deaths wouldn’t affect him anymore? Luukas had wanted to kill him the first time he’d seen him after Aiden had acquired his other personality. Not exactly how a master vampire would normally react when seeing one of his own. There’d been no attachment between them anymore.
However, as fate would have it, Luukas’ essence flowed through him once again, since Aiden had nearly been decapitated and was only here at all thanks to Grace’s healing magic and Luukas’ powerful blood. Aiden still didn’t know how Luukas had overcome his urge to kill him in order to save him.
“Hey, Aid! You gonna stand over there daydreaming all day? Or are you gonna come help us out with this?” Nikulas asked from the office doorway.
Aiden ran his eyes up and down Grace one last time and then headed towards his friend. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, mate. I’m coming.”
Like Nik hadn’t just been giving Emma one hell of a greeting himself.
Plopping back down into the office chair, Aiden flipped open his laptop and resumed typing. “Where was I? Oh yes. Right…here.” Turning the Mac around, he showed the screen to the bloody Estonian bastard hovering next to him — aka his best friend. “The van that took the commander is parked in this empty lot down in Tacoma.”
“Cool. Who owns that lot?”
“A bloke by the name of Jared Smith. But he’s not the one we’re looking for.”
“What makes you think he’s not?” Luukas turned from the window where he’d been listening to their conversation as he stared out at the lights of Seattle. He had quite a view from the floor-to-ceiling window of his high-rise apartment, and it seemed to calm him. He stared out those windows quite a lot.
“Well,” Aiden told him. “I could be completely off base here, but being that he’s ninety-two and a retired dock worker, I sincerely doubt he’s able bodied enough to handle a beast like Dante.”
Luukas’ grey eyes were sharp as he nodded. “I agree. They most likely just dumped the van there.” He glanced out the window again. “The sun will be rising soon. Let’s plan a drive down there first thing tomorrow night. We can check out the vehicle, see what we see.”
“I’d like to get another team together to search for Shea sometime soon also,” Aiden requested.
“We’ve been there three times, man,” Nik chimed in. “She ain’t there.”
“I disagree, mate. She has to be. We saw nothing indicating she left the area, and I saw her with my own eyes. Plus, you wouldn’t believe the maze of tunnels Leeha has under that mountain. It is very possible she’s still down there. Somewhere.”
Luukas cleared his throat. “We’ll get that set up after we check out this van. Nikulas and I can continue with Dante’s search, while you organize another search team. Just make sure the vampires you choose from the area have sufficient training to handle the situation.”
“Sure,” Nik agreed and Aiden nodded. They all knew it would take an act of the gods, or his mate’s life being in danger, for Luukas to go back to that mountain.
“What about us?” Keira, Luukas’ mate and Emma’s sister, asked from the kitchen where the girls were making their last meal of the night.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Luukas narrowed his eyes, daring her to argue with him before he’d even spoken. “You will stay here. Where I know you’ll be safe.”
Aiden pretended to be engrossed in the map on his laptop and hid his smirk, knowing full well what was coming.
Keira faced off against her overprotective mate. “I want to come with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Emma opened her mouth to chime in, but Nik pointed at her with a warning look and cut her off. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not coming either.” She grinned at him impishly and went back to chopping vegetables, but Aiden knew that she had her own ways of convincing Nik to do what she wanted. He’d inadvertently heard her “convincing” him a few times when he’d innocently walked past their bedroom door.
Grace, having only lived here for a few days and being the newest addition to the group, glanced back and forth between them before turning her attention to Aiden. “I do hope you don’t think you can order me around like that.”
Gathering up his stuff, he told her, “I wouldn’t dream of it, luv. I have far better ways to keep you in your place. Now come, let’s go home.”
She glanced around at all the food prep going on in front of her. “But what about dinner?”
“I’ll feed you. Later.” With a wave at the guys, he slid his free arm around her and started ushering her out the door. Turning around, he gave Keira a nod and winked at Emma. “See you at home, poppet.”
Nik’s low growl followed him out of the apartment.
Grace laughed and shook her head. “Why do you do that to your friend? You know it drives him insane.”
“Which is exactly why I do it,” he grinned.
Chapter 4
“Get up, puta.” Rough hands grabbed Ryan and hauled her to her feet. They shoved her towards the modest wash area in the back corner of the cell. “Clean up. It’s time to work.”
The woman was nearly as large and brawny as her husband, with a deeper voice. Ryan didn’t know either of their names, and she didn’t ask. It wouldn’t matter anyway.
Another shove nearly sent her sprawling across the floor again.
She wondered if the woman had found out that her husband had been groping her when he took her back to the cell earlier, and if that was why she was being so mean to her. Then again, she was always pretty mean. Except for the night she’d found Ryan hiding in an alley, scared, alone, and desperate for something to make the voices go away. She’d wanted her to come with her, so she’d been nice that night, although it was obvious she thought the gringa was crazy. But not so crazy that she wouldn’t bring in customers.
Ryan stumbled into the small bathroom before she was pushed again and closed the door behind her, sliding the lock firmly into place. The tar Jose had shot her up with was still in her system, so it couldn’t have been that long ago since her last “show”.
Her head weighed a hundred thousand pounds, but she managed to hold it steady long enough to check out her reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back at her startled her for a minute before she realized she was staring at herself. She studied the blue eyes, almost disconcerting in their pop of color. Mostly because the pupils were like pinpoints in the midst of all that blue. The whites were bloodshot. Dark circles bruised the tender skin underneath.
The cheekbones were more prominent than she remembered, the jawline sharper. Pale lips moved, and she realized she was muttering something to herself, something important. But when she tried to listen, the lips stopped.
Who was this girl in the mirror? She should know her, but she felt like she was looking at a stranger. And it made her inexplicably sad.
Her hair was still pretty though. The bright copper color not quite as lively as it used to be, but still unusual. Of course, it was her hair that had gotten her into this mess. It made her stand out in a crowd, especially here in Mexico.
Before she’d been found by the matron and patron,
she’d been earning some good money dancing in various strip clubs in the touristy part of town. The money had been enough to pay her part of the rent in the little house she’d rented with some of the other girls, and it was enough to keep her well supplied with her heroin habit.
But that pastime had soon gotten her fired and unable to hold up her end, she was kicked out into the streets almost immediately thereafter. No, it was more than a pastime now. It was a full-blown addiction. She hated it. Hated how it made her feel nothing. Hated how it had turned her away from everyone she’d loved. But she couldn’t not do it. And not because of the sickness that would descend almost immediately now if she ran out. She feared the loss of her sanity if she stopped, for then she’d be able to hear the voices. The voices that were constantly hovering around in her head, just waiting to drive her insane.
Lifting her hand, she tried to rub the knots out of the ball of anxiety in the center of her chest.
They always came back — the voices, or demons as the patron called them, or whatever the hell they were. Ever since they’d found her when she was fifteen, they always came back.
She’d been in her little suburban school in northern California when it had happened the first time. In algebra class maybe? Someone or something had screamed, “Don’t go!” right in her ear. Jumping out of her desk, she’d looked around for the person that had screamed, and wondered why no one else was reacting to what she had heard. Why the hell weren’t they jumping up to help as she had? Why were they all just sitting there looking at her like she’d lost her mind?