Angel's Pain (23 page)

He tasted the salt of her tears as they rolled down her cheeks to her lips. And he didn't ask why, because he knew she wouldn't answer. He just kept kissing her, kept driving into her, kept holding her flush against him, kept taking all she had to give, until there was no more.

They climaxed together, swallowing each other's screams of pleasure, their mouths still melded.

And when the sun rose, that was the way they slept. Locked together. Him inside her, buried deep. Her utterly relaxed on top of him. His arms holding her tight.

He felt the day sleep stealing over him, and he kept running his fingers through her hair until he lost the ability to move them at all. He thought about telling her that he just might love her. And then he decided that would be the surest way to send her running away.

And even though he was certain she was going to leave him anyway, he thought there might be a chance, if he were very careful with her. There might be a chance she would stay.

 

Night fell. Briar woke in Reaper's arms and experienced a rush of emotions so intense they overwhelmed her. She lifted her head to look at him, startled and frightened by the power of them, and then, as he stared back at her, a tender smile taking shape, she rolled away from him and got to her feet.

“Briar?” He sat up in the bed, even as she began to put her clothes on. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

He was frowning, watching her dress, working up to saying something. He probably wanted to talk about…last night. This morning. Them. Feelings and sex and all that sappy bullshit. But before he could begin, she turned, buttoning her blouse, and said, “We need to get going, Reaper. Time is short. And your friend Eric will be here soon.”

“So will the others, if I know them,” he said. “I might as well call them on the way back to the motel and give them instructions.” He hesitated, sighing deeply, then got up and got dressed, and the two of them drove back to the motel. They entered the room without a key and found Dwyer sipping whiskey from a short fat glass.

He hadn't shaved, and Briar didn't think he'd showered, either. He wasn't ripe, but it was obvious to her heightened senses.

“Nervous, are we?” she asked.

He glanced at her, said nothing and took another swig. There was a knock at the door that made him jump. The ice cubes clattered against the glass.

Reaper opened the door, and a vampire walked in, dressed all in black. He took in the room with a single glance, then focused on Reaper and extended a hand. “Eric Marquand,” he said.

“I'm Reaper.”

“Rhiannon speaks very highly of you.” And then, to Briar's surprise, he shot her a warm smile. “And even more highly of you, if you're Briar.”

“I am. But I'm surprised Rhiannon had anything nice to say about me.”

Eric lifted his brows. He had an aristocratic face, and he was shorter than Reaper, handsome in a more traditional way. He seemed…sophisticated, with an old-world sort of style. He felt old, very old. Not as ancient as Rhiannon, but very old. The power that exuded from him was almost palpable.

“Rhiannon sees in you a reflection of herself,” Eric Marquand said. “And believe me when I tell you, there is no one she thinks more highly of than herself.” Then he glanced at the unshaven mortal, who sat trembling and drinking. “And this would be…?”

“This is Derrick Dwyer,” Reaper said. “I worked for him during my CIA days. He's been trying to get me back, and Gregor was one of his projects. As is the chip in Crisa's brain that's slowly killing her.”

Eric's pleasant expression turned dark. “And he is here with us and still breathing, why?”

“Because he knows how to remove the chip.”

“And you trust him to do that?”

Dwyer lifted his head. His voice low, he said, “I never intended to leave it in place long enough to do the girl any lastin' harm. I don't enjoy hurtin' people.”

“Just doing your job, I imagine.” Eric barely glanced at him, his attention returning to Reaper. “I ask you again, do you trust him?”

“No,” Reaper said. “But if there's even the smallest chance he can help us save Crisa…”

“Understood. Well, let's get to it, then. I'll tell you about the place as we go. You said something about others joining us here?”

“Yes,” Reaper said. “They'll be here within the hour. But I've instructed them to wait for us elsewhere.”

Briar frowned at him. “Did you tell them that Ilyana's son is with Crisa?”

Reaper met her eyes, shook his head. “We'd never be able to keep her from going there if she knew. Though I'm sure she's already speculating that Matt is with his father. I just…I don't want the others at risk if we can avoid it.”

“Just as well,” Eric said. “If we get into trouble, it will be good to have someone on the outside who can help.” He glanced again at Dwyer. “Is he coming with us?”

“I'd rather wait here,” Dwyer said. “If Gregor gets his hands on me agai—”

“He's coming with us. I don't know how far gone Crisa is, and if she needs immediate action, he'll be of help.”

“We'll need to get her to a surgeon,” Dwyer said. “Insertin' the chip was far simpler than removin' it is goin' to be. And I'm no brain surgeon.”

“I can do the surgery, if necessary,” Eric said.

Everyone looked at him then, surprised. He shrugged off their awe and opened the door. “I've been studying science and medicine for more than two centuries, after all. Let's get going.”

“One thing you need to know before we leave,” Reaper said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small tranquilizer gun, then handed it to Eric, who looked at it oddly. “You may need to use this. On…me.”

Eric glanced up at him, then nodded slowly. “In case someone uses your trigger word to send you into a murderous rage, you mean?” When Reaper seemed startled, he went on. “Rhiannon warned me about your…condition. She wouldn't have sent me to you without telling me.” He looked around the room. “How many know the trigger word, Reaper?”

“Everyone here except you. And Gregor knows it, as well.”

Eric frowned. “Perhaps you're the one who ought to stay behind, my friend. It seems as if you're putting yourself at greater risk than any of us by going there.”

“Not me. But anyone within my reach. Don't hesitate to use that gun if you need to. Don't…let me hurt anyone.”

Briar looked at Dwyer, her eyes narrow. “I don't think you would
ever
hurt anyone you truly cared about, Reaper. Not even in that state. Do you agree, Dwyer?”

Dwyer looked at her with a puzzled frown.

“We both know that's not true,” Reaper said.

“Do we?” She looked at him, but her eyes went right back to Dwyer again. “Do we
really
?”

 

Roxy was driving, with Ilyana on the passenger side, when she hung up from Reaper's call. “We have some specific and challenging instructions from Reaper. And not a hell of a lot of time to carry them out.”

“Has he seen my Matt?” Ilyana asked, her tone hopeful bordering on desperate.

“No. Not yet. But if your son is with Gregor, as you suspect, you should be seeing him before this night is out.” Roxy licked her lips. “As long as all goes according to plan.”

“What's the situation, Roxy?” Topaz asked from the back of the van.

“Gregor has Crisa. Rhiannon's friend, the vampire scientist Eric Marquand, is with Reaper and Briar. So is Reaper's former CIA boss, Derrick Dwyer. They plan to go into Gregor's hideout tonight.”

“Why the hell is he taking a CIA agent in with him?” Seth demanded. “He knows the guy can't be trusted.”

“Dwyer knows about Crisa's condition. The bastards implanted some kind of chip in her brain when we were in Mexico. It was supposed to go into one of you. They got the wrong vampire, then lucked out when we took her in. They tracked us through the chip. I don't know all the details, but apparently, if the thing isn't removed soon, it'll kill her.”

“Those animals,” Jack muttered.

“They're going to try to get her out of there and bring her to us. Marquand can do the surgery. Dwyer knows the details. Between the two of them, they might be able to save her. But we're going to need a safe place with medical equipment to pull it off.”

“And how the hell are we supposed to get that?” Topaz snapped. “Pull it out of our—”

“Jack's going to help us out there.”

“I am?” Jack asked.

“Yes. And here we are.” Roxy pulled the van into a driveway of a one-story brick structure with a sign on the front that read Byram Health & Wellness. She drove all the way around to the rear of the building and shut the engine off.

“Jack, we need to disable the locks and any alarms so we can get inside undetected. The rest of you need to be on constant alert, scanning the minds of anyone who comes near, so you'll know if anyone figures out what we're up to.”

“And if they do?” Topaz asked.

“We don't have to hurt anyone, do we, Roxy?” Vixen slid closer to Seth and clasped his hand.

“I hope not,” Roxy said. “Anyone catches on, we're just going to have to bring them inside and keep them quiet until this thing is over.”

“Police included?” Seth asked. He sounded alarmed at the notion. Roxy simply nodded.

Jack rubbed his hands together and smiled. Then he looked at the worry on the faces of his comrades and lifted his brows. “What?” he said. “This is going to be fun.”

“Let's do it, then.” Roxy opened her door and started to get out.

Jack put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“Just a sec.” And he pointed. She looked and saw the video surveillance camera mounted above the entrance. It would catch anyone entering or leaving by the main door. “Better let me handle that first. We won't show up on tape, of course, but you and Ilyana will.”

“Let's do as little damage as possible, Jack,” Roxy told him.

“If you insist.” He was whistling as he got out of the van and walked up to the camera. One little jump, to reach it, and he easily tilted its lens upward, so it was focused on the night sky and nothing more.

Then he turned his attention to the door.

T
he four of them walked stealthily through the woods outside the former Marquand mansion, well beyond the guardian fence that surrounded the place. Eric moved some brush and, a moment later, lifted a hidden door camouflaged by branches and twigs. Stairs inside led downward into the dark.

“This is our way in,” Eric said. “This tunnel leads directly into the basement lab. Or at least it used to. If it hasn't caved in or been sealed off, we should still be able use it. The only problem is, Gregor is probably going to sense us coming. We can shield to some extent, of course, but he's sure to sense the mortal.”

“I can shield, too,” Dwyer said, sounding defensive. He lowered his head at Eric's quick look. “I've worked with vampires for a long time. It was an essential skill to master.”

“He can't block entirely,” Reaper said.

“I'm not picking up on Crisa.” Briar sent Reaper a desperate look. “But I can sense others inside. Gregor is in there. So is the boy. And I feel that heavy energy the drones put out—a lot of it. But no Crisa.”

“She might be unconscious, or maybe he's got her locked up in a room that he's sealed off,” Reaper said.

“Or she's already dead,” Dwyer added softly.

Briar swung her head toward him, her eyes blazing.

“You had better hope to God that's not the case, because if she is, you'll be joining her soon, I promise you that.”

Dwyer swallowed—hard.

“We still haven't solved the problem of him sensing our approach,” Eric said.

“We'll have to leave Dwyer here. If he gets any closer, he'll be detected,” Reaper said. “Eric, you and Briar go in through the tunnel. I'll go right up to the front door. With any luck, I can distract him, giving you time to locate Crisa and get her out.”

“If she's there at all, she's probably under guard,” Briar said. “And you can't go in alone, not against Gregor and his goons. You wouldn't stand a chance, Reaper.”

“We can worry about that once Crisa's safe.”

She searched his face. “He'll kill you on sight, Reaper.”

“I'll negotiate with him.”

“What the hell have you got to negotiate with?”

“Dwyer, for starters. And you. Don't forget how badly he wants to get you back, Briar. That's a lot of motivation for a man, believe me.”

She averted her eyes and fought the warmth that suffused her at that adamant statement.

“It'll buy me some time,” he went on. “Enough time for you to get Crisa safe. The boy, too, if you can locate him. Then you can bring the others back to mount a rescue, if necessary.”

“It's too big a risk.” She gripped his arm and dragged him a few steps from the others, though she was under no illusion that Eric couldn't listen in if he wanted to.

Staring up into Reaper's eyes, she asked him, “Why are you doing this? Why are you risking your life?”

“We need to get Cri—”

“Bullshit. You do this for a living, Reaper. You've been putting your life on the line over and over again since before you even became one of us. I think you've been doing it ever since your wife—”

“Don't. Don't go there, Briar. Please.”

“You have a death wish? Or maybe it's not that cut and dried. Maybe you're not suicidal, you just don't particularly care if you live or die. There's part of you that thinks you deserve to die.”

He closed his eyes. “If that's true, then it's what makes me good at what I do. If I've got nothing to lose, it gives me an edge.”

“Maybe that used to be true,” she told him. “But not anymore. You've got an entire freaking litter of vampypups who worship the ground you walk on. They'd traipse barefoot over hot coals for you, Reaper. And they need you. They'd be devastated if you died, and I think you know it.”

He searched her eyes, waiting for her to say more. When she didn't, he asked what she'd been hoping he wouldn't. “What about you, Briar? Would you be devastated if I died?”

She licked her lips. “Look, I'm not…I don't…” Then she lowered her head. “I'm not capable of…”

“It's okay. I get it.”

“I'd be really pissed if you died. I've known a lot of men in my life, Reaper, and you're not like any of them. You're different. And I…I'd like to hang around a while, figure out just how different. You know?”

“You…you're not leaving when this is over?”

“I'm…having second thoughts about leaving when this is over,” she admitted. “So?”

He lifted a hand and pushed her hair behind one ear. “So I guess I'd better not die. Now let's get on with this.”

She closed her eyes, wishing there was a way to talk him out of his hare-brained plan and knowing there wasn't. Sighing, she leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. “You're an idiot.”

Then she stomped back to where the others were. “Dwyer, if you're not here when we get back, I'll hunt you down if it takes me the rest of my life,” she said. “Let's get on with this, Eric.” And with that she jumped into the opening in the ground and vanished from their sight.

“Dwyer,” Eric instructed. “Close this hatch after we leave. Cover it so it's invisible again, and then get yourself into hiding, but stay close.”

“All right. Listen, Gregor has all my files in there. If you can get them, they'll be helpful later on.”

Eric nodded. “I'll try.”

Reaper was already walking away from them, circling back to the road, to approach the mansion's front gate.

 

Crisa was lying in the bed in the hidden room off the basement lab. Matt had located clean sheets in one of the closets upstairs. It had taken him three tries to find a set that actually fit. By the time he did, his father had gone to bed for the day, locking himself up in his private bedrooms upstairs.

At their old place, in the very beginning, Matt used to spend the days at a private school not far from where they lived. His dad had arranged it and hired a limo driver to drive him both ways. When he wasn't in school, he was on his own, knocking around the house, except for the days when the housekeeper used to come. He'd liked the housekeeper. Her name was May, and she was cheerful, with silvery hair and a large round shape that shook when she laughed. And she laughed a lot.

Matt knew his dad had messed with her mind somehow. Vampires could do that sort of thing to humans, at least to the weak-willed ones. She knew, without being told, which rooms she was to stay clear of. She knew never to arrive before full light and to always be gone before nightfall. She knew not to mention anything that might seem unusual to her.

But more importantly to Matt, she knew how to make the best cookies, and how to make the day interesting for him.

He missed May and the old place. And even the private school, though none of that had lasted long. His father had decided it was too big a risk to have other people in his son's life. There was no one to keep him company in this new place, and they hadn't been there long enough for his dad to get anything set up, if he ever even intended to. So there was no housekeeper, no limo driver, no private school. Nothing for him to do during the day.

He guessed, or at least hoped, his dad would get onto all that in time. But for now it was boring as hell here. At least he would have Crisa now.

Matt stood beside the bed, watching her sleep, wondering if it really was just sleep, or if she would ever wake up. Before dawn, she had been shaking every once in a while. Moaning a little now and then. But once the sun came up, she went into that deep, deathlike sleep just like every other vampire did. And he wouldn't know if she was alive or dead until sundown.

He'd managed to change the sheets on the bed by himself. Then he'd located some pillows from other rooms in the house, put clean cases on them and brought them down. He'd stacked them on the bed and then gone back up in search of blankets, while the entire time she lay on the gurney in the lab, motionless.

Once he had the blankets ready, he plumped up the pillows, and then he wheeled the gurney into the room, right up beside the hospital bed. He locked the wheels so the thing wouldn't move, and then he carefully rolled Crisa's body from the gurney onto the bed. It wasn't too difficult. She didn't weigh much. And he wasn't worried about hurting her, because she couldn't feel anything in this state. More than that, he knew this was the time when vampires healed from any wounds they'd gotten during the previous night.

And that made him wonder if the day sleep was powerful enough to heal Crisa from the problems that chip in her brain was causing her. Or if it could at least reverse the damage a little bit, so she would be stronger when she woke up tonight than she had been when she'd fallen asleep this morning.

He took his time arranging her head on the pillows, and tucking the top sheet and the warm blankets around her, even though he knew vampires didn't tend to get cold. Especially not while they slept. But he didn't have anything else to do.

After that, he read to kill the time. He would have played videogames, but his system was up in his room, and he didn't dare get that far away from Crisa. He stayed right by her side. When he got hungry, he went up to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich, then brought it back down with him. When he got tired, he pushed the gurney over to one side of the room, climbed up on it and took a long nap.

When he'd gotten up from his nap, just a few minutes ago, he'd known it was dark outside. But he couldn't hear anything yet from his father, and Crisa didn't seem any different than she had been all day. Pale. Absolutely still. Cold to the touch.

He waited a few minutes, hoping his father would show up, so he could ask when they were going to try to fix her, and when his father didn't appear, Matt got antsy. He was just getting ready to go upstairs and search for his father when he heard a door opening in the lab.

Assuming it was his father, hopefully with a surgeon in tow, Matt jogged into the lab. But it wasn't the door swinging open, as he'd expected to see. It was a part of the wall, shelves and all.

He stood there, too stunned to move, as a woman and a man—vampires, both of them—stepped through the wall and into the lab.

The woman looked around, her eyes nervous. He knew her. He'd glimpsed her before. She was Briar. She'd been part of his father's gang, and one of the mean ones, or so he'd always thought.

But Crisa said she had saved her life.

“You must be Matt,” she said.

He nodded, taking a step backward. “You're Briar. I know you. You used to run with my father's gang. He told me you were one of the meanest vampires he ever met. He warned me to stay away from you. Said you were dangerous.”

“You must have done a really good job, since I hardly ever set eyes on you,” she said, not denying anything else he'd said. “But I did glimpse you once or twice, in passing.”

“Father doesn't like me being around other vampires.” As he said it, he looked at the strange man.

“This is Eric Marquand,” Briar said. “This used to be his house—that's how we knew the way to get in. I brought him here to help me save Crisa.”

Matt blinked when Briar said her name, trying to look puzzled. “Who?”

“Don't try to fool me, kid. I know she's here.”

“No one's here but me. And my father, but he's upstairs.” As he spoke, he moved himself slightly to one side, putting himself directly between Briar and Eric and the doorway that led to where Crisa lay.

“Yeah, I know. My friend Reaper went to the front door to try to keep him busy long enough for us to get Crisa out of here. You, too, if you want to come.”

“I told you, she's not here. And even if she was, I wouldn't let you take her. She's sick. My dad's gonna help her.”

“He tell you that?” Briar asked. And when Matt nodded, she said, “And you
believed
him?”

Matt wasn't sure what he believed. He thought Briar was evil, but Crisa said she'd saved her life. Crisa was
so sick
. If he made the wrong choice, he knew she might die. He swallowed hard. “I'd be pretty stupid to take off with a couple of strange vampires.”

“Except that the rest of our group is waiting in town. And that includes your mother, Matt. Ilyana. She's your mom, right?”

He nodded, but he didn't know if he believed her. He narrowed his eyes on her. “How do I know you're not just lying to me?”

“She's a beanpole. Platinum-blond hair she keeps cut kind of short and spiky, like the top-knot feathers of some exotic chicken. Really unusual eyes, kind of violet, like Liz Taylor's—only I guess you wouldn't know who that is, would you? And she really doesn't like vampires at all, much less trust them. But she's starting to trust us.”

Matt tipped his head to one side just as a sense of tension from above made Briar tilt her own head. Then she pushed the boy aside and moved past him, through the door and into the room where Crisa lay.