Surrender: Immortal Protectors, Book 2

by H. M. McQueen

  Wendy nodded. When his hand lifted, Wendy gulped for air. “Now, where is the key?” Josh hissed at her, his face way too close for comfort.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her mind went back to her self-defense course, her thoughts racing over what she should do. With his body pressed firmly against hers, there really wasn’t much she could do. She couldn’t move her legs, much less stomp on his foot or knee him in the groin.

  She stiffened when his face neared her throat. The demon sniffed, and his tongue darted out to lick her skin. “Your blood smells so sweet I can’t wait to savor it.” His voice rolled over her like a cold, wet blanket, soaking into her skin. Repulsed, she began to shake so hard that her teeth chattered. The demon’s lips curved into what could almost be considered a smile. “Give me the key or die. I won’t ask you again.”

  The bastard was enjoying her terror.

  There had to be a way out of the predicament, somehow she had to push the panic down and think clearly. “Look, the only key I have with me is the one to my apartment. I’m not even carrying my car key right now.” She bit her bottom lip and gave him a wide-eyed horrified expression that wasn’t too much of a stretch. The goal at the moment—get his attention away from her throat.

  It worked. He narrowed his hellish eyes at her. “You are the holder of the key. Where did you hide it?”

  This time, when he bent to her throat, his teeth nipped at the side of her neck, causing her to shudder in revulsion. “Stop! Please, I will give you the damn key, any key you want! Just let me go.” The desperation in her voice had the wrong effect. He became aroused and rubbed his hardness into her.

  Damn.

  Fortunately, it also made him move back a bit, to accommodate the ‘development’. Wendy kneed him in the groin while shoving the heel of her hand up against his nose.

  The demon yowled, stumbling backward.

  Letting out a loud shriek, Wendy fled as fast as humanly possible and bolted back toward Rico’s.

  Air fought its way in and out of her lungs, and she gulped away sobs while racing down the wet sidewalk her laptop slapping against her side. This was not the time for a breakdown. She had to keep running, just one more street to cross to reach safety.

  The screeching sound of brakes and the bright headlights of a truck made her pause. Unfortunately, it was too late. Wendy flew into the air. Stunned, she wasn’t sure what hurt most, being hit by the truck or slamming down onto the blacktop.

  # # #

  “Wendy?” a soothing, angelic voice flowed over her like a balm. She’d made it to heaven. This is an unexpected surprise. Fighting the fogginess, she cracked her eyes open. She tried to focus on the figure sitting before her, but her vision wasn’t clear and the room swayed, so she gave up and closed her eyes again.

  “Wendy, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes,” the angel insisted. Of course, she would get the bossy one. Wendy groaned and squeezed her eyes tighter. Sure, she was as ready to look around as any human would be when first arriving in heaven, but it still freaked her out to know she was dead. Finally, curiosity got the best of her and she forced her heavy lids up.

  “Heaven,” she croaked, disappointed that her voice sounded pretty much the same, actually worse than it did on Earth, at the moment. “Why is heaven so fuzzy?” she asked the bossy angel.

  She frowned when the angel giggled. “Wendy, you’re not in heaven.”

  “What?” Wendy gasped and tried to sit up. “Oh, God! I went to hell.”

  Strong hands pushed her back, and she blinked, trying to focus. The bossy angel, no make that the bossy hell-person, waited, not saying a word.

  Finally, her surroundings began to come into focus. The room was very clean and suspiciously resembled a hospital room. Wendy scowled, swallowing hard as she took in the beeping equipment, clear liquid dripping from an IV bag, and an ugly blue blanket that covered her from the waist down. She sighed and fell back, mumbling, not daring to look at the hell-person directly. “Of course, hell would look just like a hospital. The devil knows how much I hate them.”

  “Wendy, you’re not in hell and you’re not in heaven. You’re in a real hospital. Look at me, it’s Emma.”

  Expecting her initiation into hell to be a cruel joke, she peeked toward the voice. It was Emma. She sat next to the bed and held Wendy’s hand, rubbing her arm to reassure her.

  Relieved, Wendy began to sob.

  After using a second wad of tissues to blow her nose, Wendy hiccupped and reached for another fresh one from the box that Emma had placed on the bed. She dabbed at her tear-streaked face.

  “You’re coming to stay with us,” Emma told her, firmly repeating the words she’d been saying like a chant for the last few minutes.

  Wendy studied her bandaged foot. “What exactly is wrong with me? I mean besides feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “You did get hit by a truck.”

  “Oh.” Reaching for a glass of water, Wendy winced. “Damn, everything hurts.”

  “You’re lucky the truck driver had such quick reflexes. Other than a bruised ankle and some scrapes and bruising, the doctor said you should be fine. But they’re going to keep you here for another day just to be sure you don’t have a concussion. You have to keep the ankle wrapped up for a couple of weeks.”

  “I don’t want to stay here. I hate hospitals. Besides, that demon is probably coming to finish me off.”

  “What?!” Emma yelled. Her friend’s cry caused a bulky man to pop his head in from the doorway to check on them.

  Emma shook her head and waved to let him know she was okay, and he turned away.

  “Why do you think I was running like a bat out of hell?” Wendy hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “The demon tried to bite me. I think he was going to try to have sex with me, too. I can still feel his nastiness all over me. Ick.” Wendy shuddered then blinked, seeing that Emma had gone pale and held her hand to her heart. “Emma, are you okay?”

  “I’m calling Cyn right now.” Emma held up her cell phone. “Damn it. No signal.” She got up and walked toward the door. “Jake will keep an eye on you, okay?” Emma motioned for the man by the door to come in, and she stepped into the hallway, staying in Wendy’s view to call her husband.”

  Wendy eyed the man. Built like a professional wrestler, his muscles bulged and strained under the material of his black t-shirt. The tank of a man wore his dark hair military short. She wouldn’t call him gorgeous; ruggedly handsome was a better description.

  Jake didn’t look at her directly. Instead, his coffee-brown eyes darted between the bed and Emma. His stance rigid, hands opening and closing, as if preparing for a fight.

  Wendy huffed and fell back onto the pillows. “Jeez, relax. You can sit down you know.” The man made her nervous. He didn’t reply or move. The only indication that he heard her was that his dark eyes met hers for a split second and then went back toward the doorway where Emma stood.

  Ending her call, Emma returned and gave the man a weak smile. “Thanks, Jake.” The hulk nodded at her friend and went back to the doorway.

  “Cyn’s on his way up.” Emma’s worried eyes met hers. “He came with me but went down to get coffee. There’s a Starbucks right across the street.”

  “I was just going to ask you how you got out of your house. The quarantine is still on, right?” Wendy asked.

  “Yeah, well it’s only until next week. Then, it’s going to get very busy for them,” Emma told her, referring to the Protectors. Her husband Cyn was one of four demon slayers assigned to Atlanta.

  “Emma, you need to go home. I’m fine.” She motioned toward Jake. “You can leave the Guido with me if you want. I’ll be all right.”

  Her friend shook her head. “No way. Cyn’s going to convince the doctors to allow you to go home today, and you’re coming to stay with us.”

  Wendy held up her hands. “Oh, no, I’m not. You’ve had too much going on in the last few weeks. The last thing you need is
a house guest.” When Emma started to speak, Wendy hushed her. “You just got married, found out you’re preggers, your sister got killed by a Warrior demon, not to mention you almost got killed yourself. No, no, no. I am not going to add to your anxiety.”

  “And you promised to leave town and didn’t,” Emma admonished.

  Wendy slouched into the pillow, biting her lip. “I am.”

  “You are such a big huge liar.” Emma frowned at her, but her stern expression and hardened eyes softened when her husband walked in.

  To say Cynden Fraser was a nice-looking man was an understatement of epic proportions. At six feet four, with shoulder length blonde-streaked hair and dazzling ice-blue eyes, there were few that could ignore the gorgeous warrior. Wendy’s gaze locked onto his face when he smiled at her as he handed Emma a cup of coffee.

  “I’m glad to see you’re awake.” His soft Scottish accent only made him more irresistible. “You gave Emma and me quite a scare Wendy.”

  “She’s refusing to come home with us,” Emma told him, narrowing her eyes at Wendy.

  Cyn pulled Emma into an embrace and nuzzled her hair. “She’s coming with us. Don’t worry.”

  She had to tear her gaze away from the couple. It was difficult to look at Cyn and not be reminded of Kieran. The brothers looked so much alike it was chilling, yet they were extremely different at the same time. Cyn was easygoing and swift to smile, whereas Kieran kept everyone at a distance, and a scowl came easier than any type of friendliness, his flat, clear green eyes expertly hiding any sign of emotion.

  Clearing her throat to get their attention, Wendy started to make her case against going with them to Cyn. “Look, you two need some time to get comfortable with being a family. I can stay here with Jake, and when they let me out, I will book it to my brother’s in Savannah to recover.” She finished, knowing that Emma had not revealed to Cyn that she knew about the existence of demons and Protectors, “I’m sure the creep that attacked me is somewhere out there looking for another woman to play Dracula with.”

  Oops, slip-up.

  She saw a look pass between Cyn and Jake, who’d remained by the door. When Cyn walked out to speak to the bodyguard, Wendy relaxed back onto her pillows. Regardless of the slight slip-up, she’d made her point. Emma was entitled to honeymoon time with her new husband. Although Cyn’s son Blue lived with them, there was no way she was going to move in with newlyweds. That would be one too many people in the house.

  “Hey,” she hissed, getting Emma’s attention. “If it was me and I was married to a guy that looks like that, there would be no way in hell anyone would be coming near me for at least six months.” She smiled at her friend, but her smile faded when Emma glared back.

  “Just saying.” she shrugged.

  # # #

  The cell phone’s ring woke Kieran. He pushed a number of pillows out of the way to reach it. Damn Fallon, why did the man have so many things piled on the beds? Usually, he tossed them on the floor before going to sleep, but it had been quite late, and he’d been drained by the time he made it to the bedroom the night before. Or perhaps it was morning when he’d finally left the library and the company of the women.

  The display showed his brother’s cell phone number. He considered letting it go to voice mail, but Cyn would just call again. The man never left a message and kept calling until he got an answer.

  “Kieran? Are you still in bed?” Cyn sounded irritated.

  “Yeah.”

  “What the hell are you doing in bed? It’s like two in the afternoon.”

  “I was in Fallon’s library until quite late. The selection in there can be quite tantalizing,” Kieran replied and fell back against the pillows.

  “Oh, well, I suppose if anyone has a good selection of literature, it would be Lord Stick-Up-My-Ass.” Cyn chuckled at his own joke. “Listen, we’ve got a situation. Can you come over to my place?”

  Kieran sat up, intrigued and tempted to leave. “I would, but I have to stay on Julian’s good side right now. We’re under quarantine. Remember? So you come here.”

  His brother’s hesitation bothered him. He was about to tell him he was heading over when Cyn spoke. “That’s probably a better idea. I am out of the house anyway. I spoke to Julian, so he’s aware of the situation. We’ll come to Fallon’s. See you in about half an hour. Can you let Fallon know?” Cyn disconnected.

  Kieran stared at the phone. Who was we?

  Cyn hadn’t given him any hint as to what the “situation” was either.

  He got out of the bed and went to find Fallon.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Animosity, distrust, and hatred weaved the heavy cloak that rested on the Master demon’s shoulders like a thick tar. Using every ounce of will power, Gerard forced a relaxed look onto his face.

  He wasn’t used to the lack of respect and disregard for his authority that he was receiving at the moment. The idiots standing in the room before him seemed oblivious to his elevated status.

  The leader of the Warrior demons, whose name he’d already forgotten, turned away from him, “We don’t have anything to gain from remaining here in Atlanta. As a matter of fact, we have more to lose by doing so. Because we accepted your appeal, our existence is no longer a secret to the Protectors.”

  “I am paying you thousands of dollars a day to destroy the Protectors,” Gerard told him, his voice tight with restrained anger. “From what I gather, you haven’t earned a single cent of it. Not only are they all alive, but they have effectively evaded you for weeks. My low-levels could have done better.”

  “They’ve gone into hiding. We’ve even killed a couple of humans to draw them out, without result,” the Warrior replied, a bored expression on his face. “Besides, we don’t offer any guarantees.”

  Fury surged through Gerard, making his shoulders tense. “Fuck this shit! You will kill at least one Protector before leaving, or I will not pay you a cent. Do you understand me, demon?”

  The Warrior flew toward him at a dizzying speed. Only the fact that his guard stood so close saved him from the thrust of the warrior’s spear. The unfortunate demon guard fell at his feet and evaporated. The Warrior’s grin told that he hadn’t made a mistake.

  The message was clear. If the killing machine had wanted Gerard dead, he would already be dead.

  The sharp tip of the demon’s spear was now aimed at his neck, cutting into his skin. It became obvious; Warrior demons had no qualms with killing their own kind, regardless of rank. Dread reared its head, but Gerard refused to let the bastard know how affected he was. He forced a flat look and waited for the demon to speak.

  “The money will be deposited by noon tomorrow.” The leader’s red-rimmed eyes met his while his spear pricked the soft flesh under Gerard’s chin.

  For the first time in centuries, Gerard felt ice-cold tendrils of fear run down his spine. The only reason the Warrior demon did not kill him was the money he owed him.

  “I tell you what,” the Warrior told him, still maintaining eye contact. “We’ll stay an additional week—do one last sweep around the identified Protectors’ homes and haunts before we leave.” Lowering his blade, he motioned for the others to follow.

  They walked toward the door at a leisurely pace, confident that no one would dare attack them from behind.

  “Sire, we don’t need them,” Carlo, his second in command, who had remained quiet up until now, spit out once they were gone. “The fuckers haven’t done anything. Our own lower-levels can do as much as they have. What have they charged us so much for? We should just go ahead with our plans and move to Belgium. Our new compound is almost complete.”

  Gerard grunted in response. They were inside Inferno, a demon nightclub owned by a high-level incubus named Sebastian, whose loyalties were questionable at best.

  “Take the guards and return to the house. I will return momentarily,” Gerard instructed Carlo, heading to Sebastian’s office. Right now, he had more important things on his mind than the impending m
ove to Belgium. He needed to find Josh. If the low-level was successful in finding the key, Gerard’s waning strength would be restored.

  Then and only then would he relocate to Belgium.

  When Gerard entered Sebastian’s office, the incubus looked up with a bland expression. “How did it go?”

  “It didn’t, but you know that already,” Gerard replied, motioning with his head toward a wall of monitors that showed video surveillance of different areas of the club.

  “To be honest, it would be best if the Warrior demons left. The humans are beginning to take note of the rise in crime. The Warriors are not exactly what I would call careful at keeping their kills low-profile.” Sebastian’s dark gaze flickered over him. “We’re the ones left to clean up their mess.”

  Gerard bristled at what felt like a barb aimed at him. “I don’t give a shit what humans think. They’ll explain everything away with their rationale.”

  “True, but just in case, I’ve planted fake evidence at several crime scenes linking one of our rogue demons to them.”

  “I find it interesting that you did not think to set up one of the Protectors instead. It makes me wonder where your loyalties lie, Sebastian.” Gerard used his mind-reading power and shuffled through the incubus’ mind, but nothing of interest jumped out at him.

  Sensing the invasion, Sebastian’s lips curved, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “You know me, Gerard. I owe loyalty to no one. A Master demon ordered my execution once. That can make one distrustful, wouldn’t you say?”

  Gerard shrugged. “The Protectors will lop your head off without a second thought. You are a demon and, therefore, their mortal enemy. It would behoove you to remember that they are not your allies either.”