Prince of Shadows

by Tes Hilaire

  Above the sound of her own silent screams came another—a malevolent chuckle that in no way matched the tenderness of the hands lowering her to the floor. “Ah, Gabby, Gabby, Gabby. Where is your savior now?”

  ***

  Christos twisted his head to the side, studying his child as she arched her wet dream of a body up toward his hovering hand. It mattered not to him that her action was an unconscious one driven by the call of like to like as his blood forged a path through her system, completely and irrevocably binding her to him.

  Finally, he thought as he allowed himself the pleasure of caressing the full swell of her offered breasts. His cock immediately sprung to attention, need pulsing through his groin and echoing in the throb of his fangs. Remarkable. He’d touched her before, but never had it elicited such a reaction. Possibly because she’d been nothing but a task to him them. A work in progress to be shaped and molded. But now that he’d achieved his goal?

  Is this what Lucifer felt at my own rebirth? The pride that comes with knowing you’ve created perfection?

  Christos had been like a harbinger of evil before, but now? Now he was a plague. One drop of his blood and he’d achieved in Gabby what years of transfusions had failed to do. Gabby was his. Her body. Her mind…her soul.

  The door creaked open behind him, the coppery scent of the null’s dried-on blood announcing the man’s identity. “My king?”

  “Cyrus, is our guest properly indisposed?”

  “Yes, my king. I doubt she will wake for hours yet.”

  “Very good then,” he replied absently, his attention fixated once more on Gabriella and the writhing convulsions her body had started going through. How long would they last? How long before she woke?

  “My king?”

  “What is it?” he snapped, eager to be rid of the voyeur. He couldn’t even count the number of years he’d waited for this. Centuries he’d worked to set up the situation in which the conception of a child of light and dark could occur. And decades more before he’d finally found the key to her conversion. But he’d done it. And Gabriella would be the one to earn him his rightful place to the right of his father’s throne. That joke of a general, Ganelon, was wrong. Gabriella was the prophecy. They’d simply misinterpreted the signs before. But the prophecy was now on the eve of its fulfillment. Fueled by the potency of his blood and the gift of her Paladin heritage, Gabriella could walk into the depths of Haven and begin the spread of the contagion that would burn like a swath of evil through their ranks. The child of his blood. His soon-to-be lover. His future queen.

  He touched her cheek, undisturbed by the grayish cast to her face. The blood of the master that ran through his veins would now run through hers as well. <>

  “They approach,” Cyrus said, dousing Christos’s good mood.

  They’d found them more quickly than he anticipated.

  He sighed, reluctantly removing his hand. The consummation of the binding would have to wait until later. After she’d fulfilled her purpose. She would come to him then, having bathed in their blood: the perfect match to his evil soul.

  “You may lead those I’ve chosen through the tunnel.”

  “And the others?”

  His mouth twisted up at the corners, his fangs scraping more flecks of Gabriella’s drying blood from his bottom lip. The others: those that had readily embraced Stephan’s leadership and even now would prefer to align themselves with his second. They would never get the chance to share his blood. They were unworthy. Unless…“I think, perhaps, it is time for them to prove the mettle of their faith, don’t you?”

  “My king?”

  “Yes, they shall stay. Martyrs for our cause.”

  Reluctantly he stood, his eyes dragging one last time over the yellowing bruises and already scabbed wounds covering his bride-to-be’s luscious curves. <>

  Chapter 20

  Valin shifted from one leg to the other, fighting back the lethargy that threatened his muscles. He was tired of waiting. Weary of staring at the eerily still exterior of the run-down mansion. And sick to death of the endless strategizing going on around him. He’d already put in his opinion: Barge in through those thick wood doors, let loose on any fuckers in his way, and get his mate back. But the others insisted they needed some sort of plan of action. As if killing vampires was really all that difficult.

  Crouched by him on his right, Karissa reached over, placing a hand on his forearm. “It’s okay, Valin. Bennett, Jacob, and their team are almost in place.”

  Valin nodded at Karissa to show that he heard her, though he personally considered the flanking technique a waste of time. Both his own scouting and Karissa and Bennett’s radar screens had shown no one outside, which meant the chances of a merker force being present were pretty damn slim. First, those factions didn’t normally hang together and second, if they were, then why wouldn’t the merkers be out here monitoring the property for potential breaches?

  Unless Lucifer’s minions were really so egotistical as to believe they would not be attacked in their own home.

  Or if getting your asses inside is part of the trap.

  Valin grunted, figuring that was the most likely. Either way, the action was all going to occur on the inside, not out here, which meant all the sneaking around to the back Bennett, Jacob, and his team had done was nothing more than a waste of time. No merkers to alert outside and no vampires were running out the back door on this one. Not with the sun breaking through the low-lying fog.

  “Do you know what this place is?” Roland asked from his other side, breaking into his thoughts.

  “You mean besides a coven’s stronghold?” he answered with the obvious, figuring that, like his mate Karissa, Roland was trying to distract Valin enough to curb his impatience. Yeah, good luck with that.

  “Yes,” Roland drew out the word, as if Valin was being particularly dense. “But do you know whose stronghold specifically?”

  “Should I?”

  “This was Christos’s power base. There are dozens of other vampire safe houses around the city, but this is where the bastard lived.” He hesitated. “Gabby too.”

  Valin turned his gaze back to the home of Gabby’s youth. The place where for seventy-nine years she’d been subjected to whatever forms of torture Christos could think up in his attempt to break her. And though he wanted to personally dig up the bastard’s body and decapitate him again, Valin couldn’t help but be proud of his mate because Christos had never succeeded. Gabby had fought, slithering countless times from his grasp of evil, bending but never breaking beneath his will. She’d persevered and eventually clawed her way free.

  But she’s back in there now. And you know what they’ll be doing to her. You’ve seen it in her memories.

  He shook his head, unwilling to go down that road. He’d helped her move beyond the horrors of her past before and he’d do so again if need be. The important thing now was getting her the heck out of there. As quickly as fucking possible.

  “I’m a great fucking father, aren’t I? Leaving her there.”

  Valin turned to look at Roland. Realized the vampire-Paladin must be referring to past mistakes rather than discussing strategies of the present. Good thing, too, as Valin would have cut off the man’s balls before he let him walk away. Furthermore, he really couldn’t argue with Roland’s self-assessment of his former stellarness. Though in all fairness, Roland had a shitload on his plate back then, and hadn’t actually known Gabby was his. From snippets around the Paladin water cooler, Valin heard that Roland had tried to help her where and when he could. That, added to the fact Roland was here now, risking both his and his mate’s life on a potentially already doomed rescue mission?

  “You’re not the shittiest father of the year.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Roland muttered, eliciting another pull at the corners of V
alin’s mouth. The fact of the matter was Roland was here, by Valin’s side, ready to fight. And Gabby was in there waiting to be rescued, which they were going to do in mucho más rápido fashion—as soon as Bennett and his buddies got their asses in gear, that is.

  Valin cleared his throat, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. While he was waiting, there was no time like the present to kill…or be killed, right? “I’d ask you for her hand so that when we get her out of here…you know…but frankly I don’t give a damn if you approve or not.”

  Roland shifted, and damn if Valin couldn’t feel the weight of his crimson gaze on him. “That’s okay. I don’t care if you want my blessing or not.” He paused, leaning in closer to whisper, “Just know that if you ever hurt her, if you ever cause her so much as one tear, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “Roland!” Karissa gasped, but Valin ignored her, turning his head to meet Roland’s red eyes.

  “I would never do that,” he vowed.

  Roland lifted his brow, a blatant not-buying-it-bastard.

  “She’s my mate.” Emphasis on the she is, not was. She had to be in there. In there and alive.

  Roland’s eyes narrowed, the crimson subsiding as he glanced past Valin to meet Karissa’s gaze. Valin felt the soft brush of their silent communication. Roland’s probably asking WTF, does he actually believe that shit? and Karissa’s own perplexed believe so.

  “Yeah, unfuckingbelievable, right?” Valin cracked his neck first one way, then the other. “Bands of misfits, vampire-Paladin who walk in the sun, freaks of darkness like me. Makes you wonder if He’s even still up there or not.”

  “He is,” Karissa said, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. “And He has a plan.”

  Valin’s brow furrowed as he turned to stare at her, wondering when she’d grown two heads. “Then why the fuck is Gabby in there?”

  It was Roland who answered, his hand gripping Valin’s shoulder to draw his attention back to him. “Have you forgotten it’s our duty to make sure His plan comes to fruition? Annie, Karissa, Gabriella…they are as much His warriors as the rest of the Paladin. You know as well as I that being one of His soldiers often comes with hardship.”

  Valin chewed on that, not liking the thought that Gabby, if truly one of His warriors, would be called upon to place herself in danger. If they got her out of there—no, when they got her out of there—he wanted to carry her away, wrap her up in silk, and stuff her as far away from Lucifer’s hordes as he possibly could. But if she was His, then Valin wouldn’t be able to do that, nor would she let him.

  He squirmed, thinking his ability to play in the gray area between good and evil could be part of some grand plan, that he might be as beloved as someone like Logan or Alexander—it just felt odd and somehow blasphemous. “You really think that what I am, what I can do, is really part of His plan?”

  “No, I don’t know what the fuck you are, you freak.” The quip was delivered with such indifference that Valin had to chuckle.

  “Takes one to know one, huh?”

  “Damn straight.” Roland sobered, his face grim as he met Valin’s gaze. “I don’t presume to understand how we fit into His greater purpose. But I know one thing. If you’re my daughter’s mate, then you’re not half as bad as I or even you think you are.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Don’t thank me.” He looked back at the shuttered mansion. “Just help me get Gabriella out of there.”

  ***

  Unloved. Unwanted. Evil…Monster.

  Gabby lay on the floor, her body twisting and contorting to escape the horrific truth seeping through her veins. Like black oil, the dark poison eating at her caught and flared, burning away the agony of her loss until she didn’t even remember what that loss was. All she knew was the fire’s blistering heat had come, consumed, and obliterated everything but the last command her master had given her.

  Stand. Stand and fight.

  Breathing through the smoldering heat in her lungs, Gabby pulled herself up to her feet. Not sensing anyone nearby to actually fight, she surveyed the room. The dark paneled walls stained darker by their gaslights, the floor sticky with blood, the hook in the ceiling, and the coil of rope tossed negligently in the corner. Something about it all struck a deeply buried chord of familiarity. She tested the connection, automatically recoiling from the images that swept over her, before she forced herself to stand before the onslaught.

  That’s right. That had been her life. Though no longer. Now she had but one purpose. One reason for being here: revenge.

  Stand and fight. Kill all the bastards who’ve done this to you.

  Good idea. Now all she had to do was find them.

  She moved out into the hall, making her way on some sort of subconscious memory toward the main stairs. The place seemed strangely empty. As if there had been a mass exodus by its occupants. As if they knew she came and thought it prudent to vacate the building. Wise, but it did nothing to ease her hunger.

  Blood. Death. Destruction. Nothing else would feed her need for revenge.

  She neared the central landing. Movement caught the corner of her eye, someone making his way down the last curve of twisting stairs. She edged forward toward the banister, twisting her head. The soft hiss of arguing voices rose like sweet music to her ears from the hall below.

  “…said to remain here,” said a man sitting in the largest leather armchair centrally placed in the spacious foyer. The sour taste of bitter memories had her stomach churning even as saliva pooled in the back of her mouth. Oh, he was definitely one of the ones she would kill, this vampire with his superior sneer.

  “You expect me to sit and wait patiently like a lamb for the slaughter!” replied another, presumably the vampire descending the stair. She recognized him now too. His voice at least, and decided he was a fit companion for the impending bloodbath.

  She began edging down the stairs, far enough back from the edge to be hidden in shadow, but not so far that she couldn’t keep an eye on her quarry. There were almost a dozen of them there, but only the man in the armchair and the man she followed down seemed to be close enough in status to quarrel.

  The vampire sitting in the armchair pulled back his lip, revealing fangs that he had to have forcefully elongated. “Are you so weak that you fear a handful of part-bloods?” he addressed the latecomer.

  “Not weak. Wise. Though it’s not the part-bloods I fear, but who comes with them.” He stopped before the vampire Gabby presumed held the higher rank based on the uncomfortable silence that surrounded them. Cowards, all of them. Cowardly enough to torture and abuse, but only when the victim in question was tied up and already weakened.

  Kill them. Kill them all.

  “Who?”

  The other vampire smiled, folding his hands. “Roland.”

  Gabby tripped, her hands grabbing for the banister. Somehow she managed to grasp the grime-covered oak without making any noise but for her thudding heart…surely they could hear her heart.

  That name. It meant something…

  Unloved. Unwanted. Evil…Monster.

  She sucked in air, trying to fill the hole that had opened in her chest with great gulps of air. Why the name would cause her such pain, she couldn’t fathom, but it was there, drilling through her like her insides were a cavity that needed to be eradicated.

  << He abandoned you…remember?>>

  That’s right. That was right. He left her. Abandoning her to the type of monsters who gathered on the marble below her now.

  “Cyrus said nothing about Roland being with the part-bloods.”

  “Because Cyrus knows how to pander to your ego, you fool. And saying the name of your executioner might even make you balk.”

  Gabby didn’t see him move from his chair. One second he was there, the next he was across the room pinning the other vampire to the wall by the throat so that his feet dangled well above the floor.

  “Don’t call me a fool,” Armchair sneered, the violence of his action centering he
r enough that she was able to resume her progress down the stairs. The situation was so intense no one noticed her, even though she’d stopped trying to hide her approach. She made it all the way down, her hand resting on the finial before a single one of the vampires in the room looked over at her.

  <>

  Bull. Shit. She could make them hurt as much as they’d hurt her. If not for the fact she was too damn impatient.

  “Gabriella?” a vampire from across the room asked, his eyes wide as he stared at her. His clothing was coated in dried blood. The scent? Her own.

  And what do you know…he’d just volunteered to die first.

  Gabby leapt across the room.

  ***

  Annie woke to the adrenaline-pumping sound of a dying scream. She stumbled out of bed, her legs collapsing beneath her, sending her smacking onto the floor. Pain hit her, firing across every nerve in her body and stealing her breath. For long precious moments she lay there silently gasping for air, her hands clawing desperately at the damp carpet.

  It was the second scream that seemed to open the block on her windpipe. Another surge of adrenaline doing for her what she could not do herself. She had to get up. Had to figure out what was going on.

  Where was she?

  Don’t know.

  What happened?

  You don’t want to know.

  She believed that and decided she’d worry about those things later. Right now she needed to make sure that if the danger out there crossed her threshold, she’d be able to do something about it.

  Panting against the pain, she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. She cringed at the sticky dampness of the rug beneath her, her nostrils quivering at the strange scent. What was that…blood?

  Sickened, she scooted back onto her knees, her hand clutching for the nearby nightstand. Using the heavy oak antique for support, she dragged herself up, first one leg, then the other, until she was sure they could hold her.