Vermilion Lies

by L. D. Rose

  Her eyes frantically searched for the shooter and she inhaled sharply when she spotted Dax limping out of the ditch, assault rifle in hand. He appeared terribly wounded, bloodied and broken, so badly he could hardly hold up the sleek black weapon. But he kept it aimed in their direction, however unsteady, his cobalt blue eyes consumed by darkness.

  “Let her go,” he wheezed, his frayed voice nearly lost to the wind. “Now, Montague!”

  Jacques chuckled, a sinister rumble that resonated straight through her while he huddled behind her. “You better take care of that lung, Knight, or you’ll die before you get another shot off.”

  His lung?

  Dax struggled to maintain the burden of his rifle, but it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds in his arms. His delay was only momentary, but it allowed enough time for the Temhota to recoup as they opened fire from their positions on the ground.

  He fell, disappearing from sight, and horror ruptured Cindel’s flimsy bubble of hope.

  Was he hit?

  Jacques’ malicious laugh of triumph rattled her eardrum, and anger ignited deep in her chest, blending with the fear to create an incendiary brew of emotion that lit a fuse at the center of her—a fuse that triggered something inside her to unfurl, something new, foreign, and extraordinary, something that stirred at the thought of—

  Dax.

  Something dangerous and powerful and—

  Cold.

  Something she couldn’t control now that she’d let it—

  Out.

  Power rose under the surface of her skin, lifting every hair on her body, crackling along her nerves with a near-painful intensity as it hastened toward her hands. Cold, God, it felt ice-cold as it gathered force in her palms, a hazy blue light emitting from her fingers.

  Jacques spat a vehement curse. He attempted to let her go but she latched onto his wrist and held him while the energy breached her skin to enter his.

  He cried out as muscle and bone chilled beneath her grip, almost freezing solid before he yanked his arm away. Then, as if on cue, Blaze’s car roared under the overpass, narrowly missing the barbed spikes that had pitched them into the tree in the first place. The black SUV fishtailed and screeched to a halt, briefly snatching everyone’s attention, and Cindel turned on Jacques, facing him with her still-glowing hands, her breath puffing out in clouds and her body disturbingly numb.

  He gaped at her for only an instant before he leveled his gun between her eyes, disbelief and maybe even fear sending a tremor into the weapon.

  Blaze wasted no time, however, leaping out of the car with an assault rifle of his own, firing on all the men who were now frantically climbing to their feet.

  Everyone scattered, including Jacques, the Temhota darting away into the woods like angry wraiths. Cindel remained standing, gawking at her luminescent hands as the glow slowly diminished, its icy power fading along with it. Sensation returned with a vengeance and a sudden, overwhelming exhaustion followed on its heels before she collapsed to the ground, bracing on her hands and knees.

  Heavy boots charged at her. Blaze knelt down beside her, his hot hand resting on her shoulder. She cringed at the heated contact but didn’t pull away, his coarse scars tugging on her sweater.

  Releasing her, he asked with his impossibly deep voice, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, her misted breath shallow and uneven as she motioned to the ditch. Nausea reared its ugly head again, wringing her stomach. “Dax. He’s hurt. We crashed into a tree.”

  “Fuck.” And Blaze was gone just like that, sprinting for his brother.

  After a moment of respite, Cindel picked herself up off the ground and staggered to where Blaze hovered over Dax in the dark. Her body felt weak and drained of its energy as she trekked toward the hybrids. When she came close enough, she noticed Blaze remove a long, packaged needle from his utility belt, popping it from the plastic and biting off the cap with his teeth. Moving swiftly, he unclasped Dax’s holsters and pushed his brother’s soiled shirt up to expose his bloodied chest.

  Then he plunged the needle into the skin a short distance above Dax’s right nipple.

  “What are you doing?” Cindel demanded, knowing Blaze wouldn’t hurt his brother, but unable to process what she’d witnessed.

  Blaze only spared her a glance before he threaded what appeared to be a small catheter into Dax’s chest and withdrew the needle, tossing it aside. A whistle of air sounded from the tube and Dax let out a ragged but relieved sigh, his fingers curling in his brother’s battle uniform.

  “He dropped a lung,” Blaze finally answered as he dragged his brother up into a seated position. Dax groaned, wincing in agony. The catheter stayed in place, but Blaze pulled off his brother’s shirt to ensure it wouldn’t knock the tube out. “The catheter will keep the pressure off his heart. I’ve got to get him home ASAP.”

  Blaze hauled Dax to his feet, much to his brother’s dismay, and he hooked Dax’s left arm around his broad shoulders. Cindel rushed to the other side to help, but Dax held up a hand, stopping her before gently brushing her arm with reassurance.

  “The catheter.” He gestured weakly, his beautiful eyes bright with pain. “Grab the rifle. Keep it with you.”

  She nodded, lifting the surprisingly light assault weapon. She’d never handled—never mind fired—a gun like this before, but she pretended like she knew what she was doing, catching up with Blaze as he carried his brother toward the Jeep.

  Cindel opened the passenger’s side door for him and kept watch as Blaze settled Dax in the seat. Once satisfied, Blaze shut the door and grabbed the rifle from Cindel’s grasp without so much as a look, his own rifle dangling from the strap at his back. Cindel tracked him as he unloaded the weapons into the trunk, dread seeping into her gut as he continued to ignore her. But when he opened the backseat door for her, she breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

  He wasn’t going to leave her behind, either.

  “Get in,” he grumbled, indicating the cramped space. “Hurry.”

  The musky scent of polished leather wafted into her nose as she crawled inside, the seats cool to the touch while she brought her limbs together. Blaze dropped his heavy weight into the driver’s seat, and within seconds, they were off, speeding away from the carnage they’d left behind.

  Away from the desecrated bodies of Victor and the girls.

  The roar of the engine eventually eased into a smooth purr as the SUV cut through the pitch dark without headlights. After all, the hybrid didn’t need them with his infrared vision, did he?

  Anxiety tightened Cindel’s chest at the rasp of Dax’s labored breathing, his lungs sounding like torn sails in the wind. She shifted in the confined space, trying to get comfortable, her muscles cramping as her adrenaline receded. Sensing her tension, Dax slipped an arm between the seats, turning an open palm toward her. She took his cold hand, squeezing it and tracing the tattoos on his knuckles—LOVE—in an attempt to soothe him rather than herself.

  His eyes closed, his bruised face ashen and gaunt, hollowed out by pain and the effort to stay alive. Her skin prickled with the sensation of being watched and she met Blaze’s fogged glare in the rearview mirror. He didn’t look away like a normal person would, holding her gaze without the slightest change in expression, as if he were staring into her very soul.

  She hoped he saw something there, because he didn’t need her.

  And with the disaster she’d rained down on them, she was amazed he’d even allowed her in the car.

  “We’re headed to our compound in New York.” All the doors locked, mechanisms snapping into position, trapping her inside. “You better have a hell of a story for my brothers, ‘cause they sure as fuck won’t be expecting you.”

  “I’ll explain,” Dax murmured, drowsiness slurring his words. “Don’t worry.”

  Bl
aze glanced at his brother, then glowered at her, darkness swirling beneath the frosted glass of his eyes. The menacing look relayed a clear warning that she might very well end up alone in this.

  And the idea of facing off against six of the world’s most powerful hybrids by herself terrified her more than anything else.

  Even Alek.

  “I will,” she whispered, but she wasn’t so sure she could convince anyone of her innocence.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dax awoke to a crushing pain in his chest.

  Hissing out a breath, he raised his leaden head to find the catheter had pinched while he slept. Grimacing and gritting his teeth, he pushed the small tube in a little deeper and steered it until it emitted another whistle of air.

  Shit. He must’ve lacerated his lung. He sure had the rib fractures to show for it.

  Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he was still sitting shotgun in the Jeep, with Blaze driving and Cindy in the back. Pain still ruled his body and night dominated the sky, but the darkness held more blue than black, a bright sapphire that heralded early morning. They were no longer on I-95, now cruising through the familiar back roads of New Rochelle, having just exited the last tunnel before the compound. Low rap music played from the stereo as Blaze sped on with grim determination, arriving in Westchester in record time.

  Dax glanced into the backseat, his arm having gone numb but Cindy still held on to his hand. Her grip was loose now that she stared outside, her head tilted and resting on the leather cushion. Dried blood streaked down her pale forehead and cheeks, but her wounds were likely healed. He didn’t know what happened after he collapsed in the ditch, but the profound relief that had flooded him after seeing her by Blaze’s side was undeniable.

  He didn’t want to lose her. Not now, not ever.

  Sensing him shift, she looked up at him and smiled, her midnight eyes shining as her grip on him tightened.

  Whatever this was between them, he selfishly wanted to keep it.

  “On a scale of one to ten,” Blaze rumbled with an obvious note of amusement, “how bad is your pain?”

  A chuckle bubbled up inside Dax, sending a spear of agony through his sternum. His words came out choked and a bit gurgly. “Actively being mauled by a bear.”

  Blaze let out a bark of laughter, and Dax didn’t miss the relief in its tone. “If you’re still cracking jokes, it ain’t that fucking bad.”

  “When I come back from the dead and haunt your ass, you’ll see how fucking bad it is.”

  More pressure in his chest, an incoming cough, blades of pain twisting in his sides. Holy fuck, it hurt, and he tried to gulp it down, but the cough violently burst from his throat. Blood spewed from his lips as he attempted to cover his mouth, but the crimson fluid sprayed on the dash in ribbons. He coughed again and again, spattering more blood, the pain so intense he almost fainted.

  Blaze swore and stomped on the gas, picking up speed.

  “Dax?” Cindy’s delicate voice resonated from the backseat. She’d leaned forward, her eyes wide with worry as she grasped his numb bicep.

  “I’m okay,” he sputtered like a sinking boat. “I’m okay.”

  He was not okay.

  “Kase is here,” Blaze said as he raced through a few more winding roads, entering the thick forest surrounding the curtilage, the engine revving under his heavy boot. “It would’ve been easier to hit him up in Riverdale, but the fellas had a bad run-in last night. Lots of wounded normals, too far from the Bronx and too many to handle.”

  Shit. Not only were they taking Cindy straight into the lion’s den, but the whole goddamn pride was going to be there.

  Fuck, he didn’t want it to happen like this.

  Blaze zoomed toward the protective marble wall enclosing the property, the barrier standing at a good fifteen feet tall. When the Jeep rolled up to the wrought-iron gate, the black eyes of the embedded security cameras at either side of the entrance focused on them, and a high-definition TV screen beside Blaze zapped on, fixed within the stone at eye level.

  Blaze rolled down the tinted window as Kaj appeared on screen, wearing a gray hoodie and a battle-weary expression. His chartreuse feline eyes narrowed at Blaze, slit pupils dilating. “You’re back already?”

  “Open the gate,” Blaze boomed. “Dax is hurt.”

  Another cough erupted from Dax’s battered lungs, blood ejecting from his mouth again for emphasis. Kaj cursed and the gate disengaged, metal snapping and gears turning as it swung inward. Blaze barely allowed enough time for it to open before he gunned the Wrangler into the property, nearly tearing off the car’s mirrors.

  They snaked up another road, past the forest peppered with evergreens and the skeletons of slumbering deciduous trees. Pins and needles pricked Dax’s fingers, sweeping up his arm as sensation returned to him, finally feeling Cindy’s hand holding his in a death grip.

  “Stay with me,” he murmured hoarsely when he met her nervous gaze. “Stay close and I’ll protect you.”

  Christ, he could hardly defend himself at this rate, never mind her. He just hoped Blaze understood enough to help.

  But looking at his brother now, with his clenched jaw and opal eyes deadlocked ahead, Dax wasn’t so sure.

  The Jeep tore into a large, circular opening, revealing the sprawling Romanesque-styled country club that served as the Senary’s fortress. Hooking around the rotary, Blaze pulled the SUV up to the front entrance, parking beside the fountain pool at the turnabout’s center. When Dax opened his mouth to ask why Blaze didn’t drive him straight to the medical sub-building, he glimpsed Rome standing at the top of the wide marble staircase to the front doors, emerging outside the portico of the main entrance.

  And the leader of the Senary looked murderous as fuck.

  His golden eyes glowed, inky pupils slashed through his irises like a goat’s, his stare nothing short of demonic. His angular, Persian face was sinister and shadowed, short black hair fluttering in the steady breeze, long dark coat billowing behind him like a cape. He’d been waiting for them as if he’d known they were coming.

  Dax’s heart faltered as he turned his stunned gaze on Sparky. Blaze didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him, his brother’s throat working as he lowered his head.

  And the knife of betrayal slipped between Dax’s splintered ribs like butter.

  Let her go, Dax.

  Rome’s baritone reverberated in his mind, every word doused with menace. Cindy let out a gasp from the backseat, as if she’d heard him too, her fingers white-knuckled on Dax.

  “No,” Dax croaked out loud, shaking his head. “Let me explain—”

  Stay in the car, Rome cut him off, a whiplash against the back of his pride. Blaze climbed out of the Wrangler, slamming the door shut as he moved for the backseat.

  “Blaze,” Dax wheezed, his pulse pounding so hard he felt it in his eyeballs. Horror inundated him at the deceit from the two people he loved most. “Don’t!”

  Blaze opened the back door and offered his scarred hand up to Cindy.

  She gaped at him, as if she couldn’t grasp what was happening, then aimed her terrified expression at Dax, her face so pale beneath the rusted smears of blood. Her eyes were supposed to be empty and lifeless as coal, yet they brimmed with panic, glistening with the knowledge of the inevitable end of the line.

  But it was that ever-present sadness within their depths that broke him.

  Losing his patience, Blaze grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her out of the car. She struggled to hang on to Dax, still clutching his hand, but Dax reluctantly let her go and stumbled out of the passenger’s seat. Pain surged through him with every move he made, but the rising tide of anger fueled him on as he hobbled around the Jeep in a desperate attempt to stop them.

  Blaze cursed as Dax hollered, “B, don’t do this. Ple
ase.” But his brother didn’t stop, dragging Cindy toward Rome. She didn’t even try to fight him, didn’t even attempt to keep this runaway train from derailing, looking back at Dax with the despondence of a criminal being towed to the gallows.

  “She’s innocent, goddamn it!”

  When Dax lunged for them, Rome raised his HK45 and descended the stairs, gliding over the marble like a manta ray. Dax’s heart split wide open as he threw himself in front of their path, wobbling while he futilely tried to channel his chi. Lifting a trembling palm toward his eldest brother, he felt nothing but agony, not even a whisper of cool energy, the well of his power bone-dry.

  Unable to keep upright, he fell to his knees from more than weakened legs, weaponless, powerless, and defeated.

  Rome advanced on them, molten eyes burning bright as he trained the gun at Cindy’s head. Blaze halted halfway across the driveway, his big hand still cuffed around her wrist as Rome strode past them, approaching Dax like a death sentence. The last time Dax had begged for anything was during his experimental trials as a kid, where he’d pleaded for mercy, for the madness to stop.

  He’d vowed he would never beg anyone for anything again. And he hadn’t.

  Until now.

  “Rome, no,” he uttered, his voice ragged and ruined, his breath tattered to shit, that crushing pain in his chest intensifying. “Don’t shoot.”

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” Rome bellowed, his calm veneer snapping under the force of his barely contained rage. “Do you have any idea what you’ve brought into our house?”

  The thunder of his words seemed to echo out for miles and it occurred to Dax that they had an audience, the rest of his brothers lingering near the stairs and hovering over the balconies above. Rome filled his bleary vision, armed and battle-ready, the scent of leather, clove, and blood drifting into Dax’s busted nose. His brother’s grip on the forty-five remained steady, unwavering on Cindy, prepared to pull the trigger without the slightest hesitation.