More Than Life (Arcane Crossbreeds)

by Vyne, Amanda

  Katya spun to stare at Elder Grayson where he stood with his arms out, palms up. “My child, you are distraught. Once you have rested and given proper clothing, you will calm down. Please do not resist us. We only want what is best for you.”

  Not resist? Those words all by themselves made her want to do just that.

  “W-what is this about?” Her eyes darted around the room from her uncle to the elder and back to the marshals as they tightened a circle around her. She couldn’t shimmer out. Not with the amount of silver in this place. She would have to get past them to escape.

  “Ms. Schaffer, we do not wish to see you harmed. You must come with us.” The marshal’s voice was laced with authority, threatening.

  Swallowing hard, Katya backed up. The one by the main exit advanced on her. She had to get through him. She didn’t want to believe her uncle or Elder Grayson was responsible for her being committed to hell in that lab. She couldn’t, but she also couldn’t trust them. She was not willing to risk the possibility of ever being taken back to the lab. She’d die first.

  She was even willing to kill.

  A growl rumbled through her as she retreated another step, turning to face the marshals again. Her fingers tingled, and she fisted her hands around the sensation. She would get by them. They couldn’t contain her. She moved across the room in a blur of speed, but the marshal shimmered in front of her to catch her by arm.

  Shit. They may not be able to shimmer out of the citadel, but they could still shimmer within it, particularly within one room.

  “Restrain her,” Elder Grayson called out. “We need her unharmed.”

  He tried to maneuver her arm behind her back, and she felt the brush of cold metal. The shock of the contact splashed over her with the force of an icy wave, washing away her ability to rationalize. She couldn’t be restrained. Not again. Not ever.

  With a throaty cry, she whipped agilely around, swiping her free hand at the marshal. He shimmered back, but not before she’d managed to rake his arm with her claws. The blood was a jolt of color in the sudden grays of the world around her. Shocked, she glanced down at her hand, staring in bemusement at the claws protruding from the tips of her fingers.

  Holy hell!

  “She’s feral.”

  Katya darted her gaze back to the marshal; he stood with his feet splayed, hands hovering at his sides. He still blocked her exit, which made her disconcerting growl increase in volume. Blood oozed from four scratches on his arm.

  Had she done that? She didn’t take the time to give it much consideration, the drive to escape eclipsing any rational thought.

  “Move out of my way.” Her voice sounded unnatural.

  “More men are assembling outside this room. There is no way you can escape. Now just calm down. We have no wish to harm you,” the marshal said.

  Katya shook her head in impatience. “You said that already,” she snarled. “Tell me something new. Better yet, tell me something I can believe. Now move out of my way.”

  “Katya,” her uncle called sternly.

  She ignored him, her eyes riveted to the marshal’s hand reaching for his sidearm.

  She frantically searched the room for a route of escape. She couldn’t shimmer inside the citadel. If she could just get outside the citadel… Her eyes lighted on the stained-glass window. If she remembered correctly, it faced the street side of the citadel and was more than two stories up, but it was her only path to freedom, and she didn’t have the luxury of choices.

  Backing up a step, she positioned herself behind a wingback chair. “You boys look a little pale,” Katya taunted. “You’re not afraid of a tiny woman like me, are you?”

  They advanced on her, pulling the weapons from their belts, and she tightened her fingers around the back of the chair.

  “Or maybe you just need a little sun?” With that she swung the wingback chair in her hands, releasing it to fly through the stained-glass window. One of the marshals made a grab for her, but she was already following the chair out the window.

  The sun felt glorious on her face. A revelation of her true self. Relief flooded her. Just as the warmth enclosed her body and the open air curled around her legs, she shimmered.

  Katya stumbled back a step at the sudden feel of solid ground beneath her feet.

  “She almost makes it too easy.”

  Turning, she saw two men wearing dark military-style clothes beneath long black trench coats. Glancing around, she noticed she hadn’t shimmered too far away. Just outside the wrought-iron gate surrounding the Bay House property – where she’d started not an hour ago. Well, damn. She should have had a better idea of where she was going when she jumped.

  Before she could think to shimmer, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her right leg and then a hot flare of a burn that had her hissing. She could smell the singe of her own flesh.

  “Yes, she does. And here I was looking forward to doing a search of the citadel. I’ve heard the Bay House citadel is a smaller replica of the Triumvirate citadel.”

  Katya staggered to the side and glared at the two similarly dressed men behind her. One of them was returning a small cylindrical weapon beneath his coat. She shifted her weight off her injured leg. Damn. What was it with everyone’s desire to shoot her?

  “Don’t worry,” the shooter said in a calm, almost consoling tone. “It won’t do serious damage. I got you in the meaty part of your thigh, and it cauterized the opening to stem the flow of blood.”

  Katya stared at them, bitterness welling up in her. “Well thanks, I appreciate it. Let me guess…silver?”

  The shooter smiled. “Yeah, we’d like for this to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

  She stared at him in disbelief and turned a pointed glance at the citadel. Elder Grayson’s wingback chair was lying on its side among brightly colored pieces of the stained-glass window, one leg hanging from its splintered base and the protruding stuffing a stark white against the deep chocolate velvet of the cushion. Glancing up at the second story, she could see the gaping hole in the side of the opulent building. She felt as shattered as that window…pieces of her life glittering around her.

  When she turned back to them, she forced a little smile.

  “I think we’ve gone beyond inconspicuous, don’t you?”

  One of the men sighed. “This means you intend to resist, doesn’t it? I was hoping for an easy retrieval.”

  Adrenaline still clamored through her veins. As people started to assemble on the sidewalk, their eyes were for the destruction of the citadel. None even gave them so much as a second look. San Francisco had a diverse population. That was why it was such a popular home base for much of the Arcane.

  Glancing speculatively back at the citadel, she frowned. Who were these guys working for? Surely not the citadel. Could they be Rebels? Was there some truth to what her uncle said? Hell, she didn’t know what to believe. The elders would never stoop to hiring outsiders. Drawing the brisk morning air in, she could scent them. Guardian. She recognized the odor, although she didn’t smell the malice or perverse pleasure she associated with Guardians. Of course, her experience was limited to those guarding the research facility. Flaring her senses, she was greeted with a solid wall of calm determination. Loyalty. Duty. The difference had a lump of apprehension congealing in her belly.

  “Who are you?” Taking in the assembled crowd, she began to retreat toward the street. A trolley rumbled by with a clang of metal and the trademark whistle. People bustled up and down the sidewalks across the street, focused on getting on with the next hour of their day.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Schaffer.”

  Katya’s attention returned to the shooter as he called her by name. They knew her name. Unease prickled down her arms. “We need to bring you back in.”

  Back in.

  No. She couldn’t return to that place.

  The cold air buffeted her cheeks as she shot across the street with blurring speed and pulled herself up on the rear of the trolley. A touri
st lowered a camera and gave her a startled look at her sudden appearance. He glanced over his shoulder and then down at her with a shrug before lifting his camera to his face again.

  Gripping the pole with one hand, she peered around the tourist and saw two of the four Guardians walking steadily toward her, the tails of their trench coats flaring around their legs. Where were the other two? The trolley stopped, and her heart lurched as she felt the subtle shift of energy. She peered in through the window of the trolley and saw the other two moving down the center aisle.

  Despair crawled through her, and like it always did, a part of her screamed to call Raife. As a child, she’d connected to him whenever she was upset or threatened. Her uncle loved her, but Raife had always been there, never judging her for her night terrors or emotional outbursts.

  She tightened her grip on the pole, dropping her forehead to the cold metal. She wished it were that simple now. She wished she could just call him and his larger-than-life presence would make her feel safe again. Damn, if she could just believe he had nothing to do with her being imprisoned at that place. If she could trust herself not to fall right back into her dependence on him.

  What other choice did she have?

  She didn’t know who to trust. She just couldn’t believe what her uncle and Elder Grayson told her. Why would they call the marshals to restrain her? She couldn’t turn to her House for help. The Bay House would issue an order on her, and considering she’d just jumped out the second-story window into the sunlight, she could only guess what that order would be. Sanguen Houses didn’t tolerate contamination to the bloodlines, especially one as powerful as the Bay House. If she could tolerate sun, then it stood to reason she wasn’t a pureblood. Forget that she’d sprouted claws and growled.

  She couldn’t petition the Triumvirate for protection. If they knew about her, they would be sending out their own hunting party. Cross-speciation was forbidden under the terms of the Arcane Alliance.

  She didn’t know where else to go. But she wasn’t going back, and that only left forward.

  And Raife.

  Chapter Ten

  Raife was near a panic, sitting outside the vacant Schaffer estates, when Katya’s mind lightly brushed over his.

  Straddling his motorcycle, his fingers clenched around the handles, he cast a glance at Kel. She was watching him closely.

  He nodded at her questioning look.

  He took several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn’t like how Katya could cut herself off so cleanly from him. It left him edgy and angry. Her presence was light. Unsure. He didn’t want to scare her off.

  “Katya?”

  There was a long pause.

  “I think I’m in trouble.” With the words, her emotions flooded into him. She was terrified. She felt threatened. Hunted. His stomach tensed. “And I can’t shimmer.”

  “Tell me where you are, baby. I’ll come to you.”

  “Lower Nob somewhere. There were four, but I think I picked up two more on the cable car.”

  “Lower Nob,” Raife snapped off and quickly pulled his helmet into place. He could hear the growl of Kel’s bike as she shadowed close behind him.

  “Stay with me, kitten.” The buildings spun and blurred in his peripheral vision as he pushed his cycle on the treacherously sloped streets of Russian Hill. He could see the rise of Nob Hill in the distance, no more than a mile away. The thought of Katya in danger made it feel like all of San Francisco separated them. “Look around, what do you see?”

  “I ducked into a parking garage. It’s under renovation. An old hotel, I think. On Post.”

  Raife sent the directions to Kel as they crested Powell. They weaved between the moving traffic and the parked cars. His rear tire skidded to the side, and he braced his foot out as he turned onto Post.

  His heart pumped raw determination through his body. His dragon was waiting, eager to be released. Up ahead, he could see a huge Dumpster dominating the sidewalk beneath a construction chute attached to the side of the building. Caution sawhorses were set up at the entry of what looked to be a deserted parking garage.

  This had to be it.

  “We’re here, kitten.”

  Raife drove his bike between the sawhorses and revved it up and around the ramp. He could smell the scent of blood but couldn’t tell if it was hers. He circled the next rise and saw them.

  Six men. And Katya.

  She looked magnificent. Her eyes were the inky black of a Guardian, and claws curved from the tips of her long fingers. What she lacked in training she made up for in pure ferocity and instinct and speed. At least she was smart enough to know she couldn’t match them in strength. She was trying to stay out of range. It helped that the men were trying to keep from hurting her; some of them were even fighting among themselves. The thought barely registered when one of the men wrapped his arms around her from behind. Then Raife was jumping from his bike with a roar and running to her. He pulled his helmet off and swung it in one fist, smiling as it cracked into the bastard’s skull.

  Raife grabbed another by his shirtfront and lifted him from the ground, tossing him across the garage. The asshole hit the concrete wall and then jumped to his feet and out the open side of the building. His feet dangled for a moment as he caught the side of the building and pulled himself up. Most likely to the roof.

  One of the remaining men grabbed the shoulder of his companion, and they both disappeared. Sanguen? No, most likely crossbreeds. He flicked a glance to his partner, but Kel had taken out one and was toying with another.

  Breath hissing and triumph spiking his system like a street drug, he jerked around and pinned Katya with his gaze. His dragon clawed at its fleshy prison, demanding Raife reestablish ownership of their mate.

  Instinct pounding a deafening tempo in his head, he strode purposefully over to her and lifted her from the ground into his arms. His mind drove into hers, and she openly accepted him, her mind a cacophony of desire and anger and fear. Each bled so completely into the other that he couldn’t separate them as he descended into the fiery depths of her mind.

  Her legs lifted and wrapped around his hips, her fingers burrowing into his hair as he continued walking with her until he had her pressed against the wall. A satisfied growl built in his chest when her hands fisted against his scalp as she tried to maneuver closer to his body.

  She belonged to him.

  Their lips met, and he could feel the razor edges of her fangs as he delved his tongue into the hot recesses of her mouth. There was a sharp slice of pain, and then his mouth was filled with the metallic taste of his own blood and her hungry little mewls.

  Fire licked down his body, and his fingers swept over the delicate curve of her spine to grip her hips desperately as the damp heat of her mouth slid over his jaw to his neck. One single burning caress of her tongue was the only warning he got before her fangs sank into the throbbing pulse in his neck.

  Each time she drank from him was more exquisitely pleasurable than the last. Closing his eyes, he drew the scent of her deeply into his lungs and ground his pelvis into hers. Fuck, he was as hard as the helmet he’d cracked that asshole’s skull with. And hungry, his dragon driving him to reassert his ownership, to stake his claim on her again.

  She felt too hot and right as he drove his hips against hers, her own hunger pouring down fire, saturating him in her desire.

  Veins protruded in his arms, his fingers burying into the soft flesh of her ass as he rocked against her. Her limbs tightened convulsively around his hips and shoulders as she climaxed in his arms, the feel of her pleasure rolling through him, nearly pulling him over with her. He managed just barely to pull back enough not to humiliate himself by coming in his damn jeans.

  Her lips moved over his neck, her tongue languidly stroking over her bite mark.

  The dragon in him subsided at the warm, solid feel of her in his arms and mind. She was safe and, for the moment, completely connected to him.

  “Damn, Merrick, you could have at l
east waited to jump her until all the bad guys were gone.” Kel’s voice echoed drolly in the empty garage as she slid her cell back into the holster at her waist. “Way to leave a girl hanging. And, hey, don’t worry your pretty little head, loverboy. I called for cleanup.”

  Katya stiffened in his arms, her mind drawing away from him.

  Raife sighed. At least she’d called out for him when she was in trouble. It was a start.

  “I NEED HELP.” The words felt tight and uncomfortable, but they rang true enough in the private office of Kyeros Forestor. Especially after the morning Katya’d had. Once she’d managed to pry herself off Raife, she’d demanded he take her to the director of Incog. It was the last place she knew to go.

  Kyeros flicked a quick look to Raife.

  Angling her chin up, she pulled pride around her shoulders and smoothed her hands over the dirt-and-grease-smudged scrubs she’d “borrowed.” There was a small tear and blood marring the right leg of her pants. She straightened it and shifted her weight to her left hip. “I don’t have money, but I have skills you might find useful.”

  Katya shot Raife a covert glance. He was leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed over his massive chest. He was a masculine picture of nonchalance, but she could feel the surge of emotion that beat against his calm exterior. She couldn’t identify what it was exactly without merging deeper with him. She didn’t trust him—or herself—enough for that, but, unlike before, she couldn’t detach herself completely from him.

  “I see.” Kyeros flicked his gaze at Raife again before he leaned back in his chair. The creak of the leather filled the room. “I have your file, Ms. Schaffer. I’ve no doubt your skills will be more than adequate payment. There will be some caveats however.”

  Katya nodded. She somehow suspected she wasn’t going to like his stipulations, but she had few other options. It appeared more than one faction of the Arcane wanted her, and she didn’t know who she could trust. She wasn’t even sure she could trust Incog, but it was the lesser evil at this moment.