Lucas

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Lucas Page 26

by D. B. Reynolds


  “I can’t believe it!” she said, hugging him so tightly it hurt, but he held on anyway. “Does anything hurt?” she asked, moving out of his arms too quickly as she stepped back to survey his aching body.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied truthfully enough. “We need to get out of here, a cuisle. I’m worried about this place.”

  “Right,” she said, then looked at the crumpled elevator ceiling. “Um. You have a plan?”

  Lucas grinned and grabbed a quick kiss that turned into a long kiss before he tore himself away. That damn chemistry again. Here they were buried in a hole of unstable rubble, and he still wanted her like he wanted his next breath. And judging from the high color on her previously pale face and the racing of her heart, she was feeling it, too.

  “Escape first,” he said, dropping his hand to the swell of her perfect ass. “Sex later.”

  Kathryn met his gaze, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. She licked her lips. “Right,” she said, never breaking eye contact. They leaned toward each other like two magnets, before seeming to recognize at the same time what they were doing and pulling away.

  “Nick’s waiting,” he murmured, twisting a finger in her tangled hair.

  “Okay,” she agreed, but neither one of them moved.

  Lucas smiled slowly, the smile becoming a grin. “There’s a helicopter.”

  “Even better,” she breathed.

  “I’ve got to punch a hole in this damn elevator.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is. A kiss will make it better.”

  She gave him a lopsided grin of her own. “You think a kiss makes everything better.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  Kathryn cupped his cheek and touched her lips to his. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted when Nicholas chose that moment to yell down the shaft.

  “Lucas!”

  Lucas rolled his eyes in disgust, but called back. “You ready, Nick?”

  “Ready!”

  “That’s my cue.” Lucas looked around for a likely tool and found a five-foot-long piece of heavy steel bracing that was ragged and torn at the ends. “Stand back, and cover your eyes.” He studied the enclosed space with a frown. “Better yet, stand just outside so you’re not underneath whatever decides to come crashing down when I do this.”

  “What are you going to do?” Kathryn asked as she moved to comply.

  “This,” he said, and rammed the piece of metal up through the top of the elevator, cutting through the damaged ceiling, shoving aside electrical wires and opening a hole. More junk immediately tumbled down into the elevator, concrete mostly, along with snaking lengths of thick, twisted cable that he assumed had once guided the elevator up and down.

  But in addition to all of that came fresh air and, high above, the welcome sight of the night sky and Nicholas staring down at him with a worried look on his face.

  “My lord!” Nicholas called, his voice full of relief.

  “Send us a rope, Nick.”

  “I’ll do one better, my lord,” Nick said and gestured to the side. Mason appeared overhead wearing a climbing harness with a heavy rope trailing behind him. He tugged the rope once, nodded to whoever was securing the lifeline, then slipped over the edge, falling freely for the first ten feet before the rope went taut, and he began to ease himself down toward the top of the elevator. Lucas appreciated the thought, but he wouldn’t be ascending in Mason’s strong arms, no matter how much his aching bones wanted to. But Kathryn would.

  “Up you go, Katie mine,” he said, gesturing to Kathryn. “Your rescuer awaits.”

  Kathryn eyed the big vampire doubtfully. “Can’t I just scale the side? You know, like a wall?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Too dangerous. Too many hazards sticking out, live wires and such,” he added, lying just a little.

  She frowned, but allowed him to boost her up and through the hole in the roof, where Mason waited. He had to grit his teeth as she went into the other vampire’s arms. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much, but it did. And the fact that it did told him she mattered more to him than he admitted.

  Mason didn’t waste any time. As soon as Kathryn was secure, he started for the surface. Not being used to vampire enhanced speed and strength, Kathryn gave a little shriek of surprise as Mason zoomed upward, his climbing boosted by vampires pulling from above. Their ascent was probably faster than the elevator itself would have been.

  As soon as they reached the top, Kathryn immediately disengaged from Mason’s hold and stepped away from the big vampire . . . much to Lucas’s satisfaction. But then the next task awaited him. He sighed, thinking not for the first time that vampire pride and competitiveness was a pain in the ass sometimes.

  “Just the rope, Nick,” he called up.

  Nick peered over the edge at him and opened his mouth to protest, but something in Lucas’s expression made him stop. Or maybe it was the waves of aggression floating up out of the damn hole in the ground. In any event, the thick rope was soon slithering down toward him. Lucas grabbed it, then gritted his teeth and began climbing, hand over hand, until he reached the top.

  Nicholas grabbed his arm as soon as he crested the edge of the hole, bracing him unobtrusively under the cover of pulling him in for a quick man hug before stepping back. Lucas appreciated the gesture and the loyalty of his lieutenant. A vampire lord could never afford to display weakness. Nick understood that.

  Lucas scanned his assembled vampires, seeking the smallest indication of disloyalty. But he found nothing but relief, love, and a steely determination for revenge against whoever had tried to assassinate their master. And revenge was definitely in their future. But not tonight. Lucas was in pain and exhausted. He wanted his bed and he wanted Kathryn.

  “Let’s go, Kathryn,” he said, holding out a hand.

  She looked at it, then raised her eyes to study his face. For a moment, he thought she was going to reject him, but then something in her gaze surrendered. She laced her fingers with his, and he sighed inwardly. He was going to need all of his strength for what he had to do next.

  * * * *

  Kathryn eyed Lucas as they rode the elevator to the penthouse floor. Something was wrong. Granted he had to be worn out after everything he’d been through. She was certainly exhausted, and his ordeal had been far worse than hers. It was more than just weariness, though.

  He’d held onto her hand all the way here. Not unusual in itself; Lucas was a very touchy-touch kind of guy. But every once in a while on the drive home, his grip had tightened almost to the point of pain, and she’d caught a fleeting expression of distress on his handsome face. He’d told her his bones had healed improperly, that the vampire symbiote would want to fix them once he was free, but . . . did that mean it was working on him already?

  “Are you all right?” She leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, softly enough that she didn’t think even another vampire could hear. But there was only Nicholas in the elevator with them, and Lucas seemed to trust him above all the others.

  “Fine,” he said in a voice not at all like his usual cheerful lilt.

  She frowned, but didn’t push him. Maybe it wasn’t kosher for a vampire lord to shown pain, even among those he trusted.

  When the penthouse doors opened, she started to step out, but Lucas stopped her. “Nick will set you up on a lower floor. It doesn’t lock down during daytime, so you’ll be more comfortable there.”

  “Why can’t I stay with you?” she asked, hating the idea of him suffering alone through whatever was happening.

  Lucas looked down at her, his gaze softening as he cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “You don’t want to be here for this, a cuisle. I don’t want you here for this. It won’t be pretty, but, trust me, I’ll get through it. And tomorrow night you can do that stroking we talked about.”

  “Lucas, I’m not afraid of a little—”

  “Kathryn. Please.”

&n
bsp; Her lips flattened unhappily, but she nodded. “Fine. I’ll just go back to my hotel and—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I don’t think you were a target tonight, but Klemens knows about you now, and he may try to use you against me. I don’t want you hurt. Give Nick your hotel key, and he’ll send one of the daytime guards over to get your stuff.”

  “Lucas, I may spend most of my time at a desk these days, but I’m still a trained FBI agent. I know how to protect myself.”

  “And Klemens is a vampire lord. You saw what I was able to do tonight, even as injured as I was. Can you defend against that? Please,” he added, when she glared at him stubbornly. “One night. What can it hurt?”

  “All right,” she conceded. “But I’m going to the hotel with your guard. I’d rather pack my own things.”

  “And you’ll come right back,” Lucas clarified.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. “I’ll come right back.”

  Lucas gave her a tired, lopsided grin, then lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her thoroughly. “My feelings for you are definitely not paternal, Katie mine.”

  Kathryn blushed, knowing Nicholas was watching and listening to everything, but she reached up and gently stroked Lucas’s face from forehead to jaw. “Poor baby,” she murmured. “You were so strong, so brave.”

  Lucas laughed and gave her one last, hard kiss. “I seem to recall other promises were made. I’ll expect payment in full when I see you tonight.” He looked over her head at Nicholas. “Everything’s waiting?”

  “Yes, my lord. Would you like—”

  “Jesus, not you, too, Nick. I’ll be fine.” Lucas exited the elevator and disappeared into the unlit depths of the penthouse.

  Kathryn watched until the doors closed, but he never looked back. She leaned against the elevator wall then, staring down at her filthy clothes, very conscious of Nicholas standing just a few feet away from her in the confined space. Finally, she looked up to find him studying her.

  “Will he be all right?” she asked.

  Nicholas blinked. “I wouldn’t leave him up there if I didn’t believe it.”

  Kathryn nodded unhappily and said, “Okay, I guess. About this hotel trip . . .”

  “Lucas Donlon is my master, Agent Hunter. It will be done exactly as he ordered.”

  Kathryn sighed. She seemed to remember being in charge of her own life just a few short days ago. She had to wonder when she’d lost it and when Lucas Donlon had taken over instead.

  * * * *

  Lucas closed the door of the penthouse behind him, more grateful than words could express to be alone with his pain. It had taken every ounce of energy he had left to keep up appearances, not just for Kathryn, but for Nick and the others, too. Maybe it hadn’t been necessary, but it was instinct. Besides, if he’d given in to the agony of his body, he’d have been screaming at the top of his lungs and ripping great chunks out of the SUV’s upholstery in an attempt to ease the pain.

  He went directly to the security console and, not waiting for sunrise, lowered the steel shutters and locked everyone out. Next stop was the refrigerator behind the bar which was stocked with bags of fresh blood. A hundred years ago, Nick would have grabbed someone off the street and had them waiting for Lucas to drain dry. With any luck that person would have been a criminal of some sort, someone the world was better off without. But Lucas didn’t delude himself that mistakes had never been made, or that sometimes there just hadn’t been enough time before sunrise to be choosy. The one saving grace was that it didn’t happen often. The kind of damage Lucas had suffered tonight was a rare thing for someone of his strength.

  And human blood banks were open twenty-four hours a day.

  Lucas grabbed a glass bowl from under the bar and filled it with water, then set it in the microwave to boil. While he waited, he tore the valve off the first bag of blood and drank it cold. It tasted awful going down his throat, but once it hit his stomach the cold didn’t matter. His body began to use it immediately. The microwave dinged. Using a bar towel, he lowered the water-filled bowl to the counter and eased a second bag of blood into the hot water, releasing the valve slowly.

  He was reaching for a third bag to drink cold when his phone rang. Not his cell phone, which was buried somewhere beneath Alex Carmichael’s building, but his landline. He glanced at the caller ID, but was already reaching for the phone. He knew who it was.

  “Sire,” he answered.

  “Lucas,” Raphael’s deep, familiar voice greeted him. “Whom have you pissed off now?”

  Lucas smiled to himself. “I am well, thank you. Okay, perhaps not well, but only bent, not broken. Not permanently anyway.”

  “Any more qualifiers you’d like to add?” Raphael asked dryly.

  “It’s been a rough few hours. I won’t deny it.”

  “Klemens?”

  “Yes, though as usual he didn’t get his own hands dirty. A human assassin for you, and poor Alex Carmichael for me. Klemens had him under a compulsion. To his credit, Alex fought it, but it was no contest.”

  “No,” Raphael agreed thoughtfully. “Klemens takes the coward’s way, but he does have power when he chooses to use it.”

  “Well, his time has run out. I have people in place keeping an eye on him. If they can pinpoint his location tomorrow night, I’m going after him.”

  There was a very un-Raphael-like pause, before he said, “Lucas, be very certain you’re ready for this.”

  “I can handle him, Sire. You won’t be rid of me that easily.”

  “What about the FBI agent?”

  “She nearly died along with me tonight.”

  “That was foolish of Klemens. Her death would have brought unwanted attention, even for him.”

  “I don’t think he knew she’d be with me.”

  Raphael was silent for a moment. “The FBI agent is with you,” he said.

  Lucas laughed. “What can I say, Raphael? Women love me.”

  “So you keep telling me. I assume she’s not there now.”

  “Not even I could get it up tonight, my lord. She’s safely ensconced downstairs.”

  “And tomorrow night?”

  “Not to worry. When I go after Klemens, it will be a vampires-only invitation.”

  “You have plenty of blood for tonight?”

  “Nick took care of it.”

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. Cyn sends her love.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.”

  It was Raphael’s turn to laugh. “Be well, Lucas.”

  “And you, Sire.”

  Lucas disconnected and threw the phone onto the bar, then raised the warmed bag of blood to his lips and drank it down without pause. The third bag he’d been about to drink cold went into the still-hot bowl of water to warm. He took two more cold bags from the fridge and carried them into the bedroom to drink while he got ready. He’d be sleeping in his spare bedroom this morning. The day was likely to get ugly, and he didn’t want the mess or the memories in the place he usually slept. He had less than thirty minutes before sunrise. His number one priority had to be drinking as much blood as possible, even if that meant it had to be cold and tasteless. His body would need all the energy it could get to heal itself. But he desperately wanted a shower, too. He was covered in dirt and concrete dust, and who knew what kinds of crud lived in a building that old. The blood could warm in the hot water of his shower, and if he hurried, he could manage two more units after that.

  But any way he looked at it, even with every ounce of blood in the fridge, it was going to be a long, fucking day.

  * * * *

  Daniel ignored the now familiar sounds from the hallway outside the room. His tormentor—although that was probably too strong a word unless boredom could be considered torture—had returned for their nightly ritual. He assumed it was nightly anyway, because the man had a job to do, and as far as Daniel could tell, he was still doing it. He’d even shown up in his uniform once or twice. Night after night, he b
rought food and water, then sat and expressed his admiration for Dan’s work, even going so far as to bring some of his photographic books to drool over. Creepy didn’t begin to describe it. At least the woman he’d heard the other night had a practical reason for kidnapping him. She wanted money. Daniel would be happy to pay them as much as they wanted if they’d just let him out of this disgusting room.

  He thought about how Kathryn had despaired of the mess he created in every room he lived or worked. He made a promise to whatever gods of order were listening that if they’d just get him out of this predicament, he’d be neat and tidy for the rest of his life. Or at least he’d try.

  The door creaked open, bringing light with it as his captor flipped the switch in the hallway.

  “Good evening, Daniel,” the freak said cheerfully, just as he did every night. As if he really believed they were somehow friends, and this was simply a pleasant evening’s diversion.

  Dan didn’t respond, didn’t sit up, didn’t even look at the idiot. He lay on his uncomfortable bunk with one arm over his eyes and ignored him.

  “I’ve brought you a steak sandwich this evening. Your favorite.”

  “How the hell would you know?” Daniel muttered.

  “Joanie at the coffee shop told me,” he said, sounding pleased, and Daniel cursed himself for asking the question.

  “I brought you something else, too.”

  The familiar clicking sound of a digital camera in burst mode had Daniel turning to look.

  “What the fuck?” he demanded, jumping up and snatching the camera before his captor could grab it back. “That’s one of mine!”

  “I know,” the creep said in a wounded tone. “Your sister left it all at the Sheriff’s Station for safekeeping. I had to sneak it out.”

  “What do you mean left it? Where’d she go?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she went home.”

  Daniel’s heart sank at this bit of news, even though he told himself it couldn’t be true. For one thing, Kathryn would never have left his equipment behind if she was leaving for good. For another—and this was the important one—she would never have given up on him. Kathryn was the one constant in his life, the one who’d always been there for him. He had to remember that, to believe it. His captor was just fucking with his head, trying to make him believe he had no one left. This asshole must be the loneliest person in the world if he thought he could kidnap people and make them his friends. Stockholm Syndrome, my ass.

 

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