Demon's Kiss (28 page)

And then she lowered her hand and turned to walk to the boxcar, ignoring his calls to her to wait, to listen, to give him a shot. She climbed inside and strode straight to Reaper, who sat with his knees bent upward and his back against the wall. Her mind spoke to his, and his alone.

I know what you're planning, and I'm going with you.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You're going to go after Gregor alone. I know him. I know the mansion. I know Briar.

You could be hurt.

I'm a shape-shifter, Reaper. That's the secret I've been keeping. Everyone knows it now but you, so I suppose I might as well tell you. I can change into a fox and maintain that form for an hour at a time. I can go out in daylight in that form. I get into places where others cannot hope to go. I can go unnoticed. And I can speak to and command the aid of animals of any sort, in any form. I can help you, Reaper. And if you go without me, I'll know where you've gone, and I'll simply follow.

Lowering his head, he thought to her,
Seth will never forgive me if anything happens to you.

She lifted her brows.
Seth has no rights here, and no say in the matter.

Reaper met her eyes and nodded once, firmly.

She nodded back, then turned and went to the opposite corner to lie down. But even as she curled up into herself, she glimpsed Jack staring at her.

“What are you up to?” he whispered.

She widened her eyes to their most innocent setting. “Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

Topaz glanced at her curiously. She was sitting next to Jack, though not close enough to touch. Clearly, she was trying to keep him at arm's length, despite the obvious attraction between them.

Vixen supposed she understood that now.

Jack slid a look toward Reaper, his eyes full of meaning. “No reason.”

Vixen lowered her head onto her folded arms, closed her eyes and, without opening them, whispered, “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that conversation you overheard in Gregor's office? The one where you said he was calling someone sir and asking for triggers?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't suppose Gregor keeps any sorts of…pets in his office, does he?”

“Yeah,” he said for the third time, “he has a rat.”

She blinked her eyes slowly. “I hate rats.”

“I know.” He paused, then went on. “There's something else in his rooms that you'll want to set free. Check the bigger cage with the sheet over it.”

She frowned, but asked no further questions. “Thanks, Jack.”

Give him my best, will you?
Jack thought.

Who?
Vixen asked.

Jack sighed, folded his hands behind his head and lay his head back on them.
The rat.

B
riar arrived at the mansion in the midst of a downpour. She was soaking wet, and her clothes were torn from her dramatic leap from the van, not to mention her struggles with the murderous drones.

They would be around. If she just walked up to the doors, they would probably kill her before she got any farther. So she hesitated at the far end of the drive, though she stood in plain sight, in the open.

Gregor.

She waited. He didn't reply. Of course he didn't. He couldn't hear her inside the mansion. The drones would sense her soon, though, and she had to get his attention before they did.

She cast her gaze around in search of a way to get Gregor's attention, coming up with no ideas, until the wind picked up and a small twig snapped from a nearby tree and landed at her feet. As her attention turned down to where it lay, she noticed the pebbles, slick and wet, on the ground around it. Bending, she picked one up and, taking careful aim, hurled it toward Gregor's bedroom window.

Then she waited, but this time only for a moment. The heavy curtains parted, and his face appeared in the window, staring outward, searching the night. She sensed his attention on her. Then the curtains fell closed again, and moments later the huge front doors opened, and Gregor stood silhouetted in the opening.

She stared at him, at the man she'd found irresistible from the moment she had first awakened in his arms, the taste of his blood on her lips, a new energy singing through her veins. He was tall and strong. Not handsome, but it didn't matter. He had saved her life. He had made her immortal. He had shared the very essence of himself—his own blood—with her. And for that, she would always be grateful.

She stood there, dripping wet, while he remained in the shelter of the house, staring at her just as she stared at him. She knew he was surveying the area, as well, trying to sense whether others had come with her.

“I escaped them,” she said. She didn't raise her voice. He could hear her, even at this distance.

“And returned to me.”

She nodded. “I'm alone, Gregor. I need…I need to speak to you.”

He considered that for a moment, then, slowly, lifted his arms toward her and smiled gently.

A sob choked her, and she ran to him, relieved at his welcome, though her mind was still full of questions. When she reached him, she flung her arms around his neck, and he twined his around her waist and hugged her close for a moment. “I'm very glad you've come back, Briar. So very glad.”

“I wasn't sure of my welcome,” she whispered.

“Why would you be? You helped my enemies escape me, after all.” His arms loosened from around her waist then, and he put his hands on her shoulders, held her away from him and studied her face. “You killed several of my drones, and helped Reaper and his minions get away. Why did you do that, Briar?”

She blinked twice, a new tension coiling in her belly. “To save my own life. Gregor, your drones were trying to kill
me
along with the others.”

He said nothing. Just waited.

“Did you order them to kill me, Gregor?”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Why would you ask such a thing? Has this Reaper brainwashed you?”

She shook her head. “No. But you didn't warn me what would happen when I said the word to him. You didn't tell me that he would explode into a rage and try his best to kill everyone within reach. He could have killed me.”

“I had every confidence in your ability to protect yourself.”

“But you didn't do a damn thing to make sure of it.” She looked at the floor. “You could have told me what would happen, told me to say the word and then get out fast. You could have given me the second word, the one that would make him stop.”

“I see. So that's why you've come back, then?”

“What?”

“To get the second word from me,” he said. “So you can take it back to him.”

“No.” She frowned, and took a backward step away from him.

“No? Don't lie to me, Briar. I know you too well. And I saw you with him, in that car. I saw you mount him like an animal in heat. I saw—”

“I
had
to do that! You told me not to let him arrive at the club early, no matter what it took. You told me to do whatever I had to do to keep him out until the appointed time.”

“Yes, I did. I rather thought you would apply some less dramatic tactics first, though, before resorting to fucking him senseless.”

“Sex means nothing to me. You know that.”

“Just a means to an end, right, Briar?”

“That's all it's ever been.”

“But you liked it. Admit it. You enjoyed having sex with him.”

“No.”

“You came.”

“No!”

“I was watching. You betrayed me, Briar. First by giving him what you've refused me all this time, despite the fact that I saved your worthless life, pulled you from the gutters and the streets, the drugs with which you were poisoning yourself, the men to whom you were whoring yourself. Despite knowing what you owed me, you gave yourself to him. And then you helped him get away.”

“It wasn't like that.” She backed up some more, realizing now that she was in danger here. She needed to get to the door, escape through it.

“And now you have the nerve to come here, pretending to be loyal to me, and ask me to give you the ability to disable the only weapon I have that can destroy him.”

“Gregor,” she said, and she spoke in a level, firm tone, slowly and clearly, as if that could somehow help him to hear and understand. “I
am
loyal to you. That's why I left them. And I didn't ask for the word. I don't give a damn about the word.”

“You're a very poor liar, my dear.”

She was nearly to the door and, she sensed, completely out of time. She turned in a whirl of speed, only to collide with the solid chest of a drone. Its beefy hands closed on her arms and hurled her backward. She landed on a table, breaking it in half before hitting the floor.

Pain surged as she pushed herself up, and then Gregor had her by the throat, raising her to her feet but not letting go.

“You are mine, Briar. Mine, and mine alone. You're going to learn that in short order.”

“Gregor, please,” she rasped.

He glanced at the drone. “Hold her.”

The creature came around behind her, gripped her arms and pulled them painfully behind her back, holding her hard. She struggled, but it only served to tug her shoulders against their sockets.

Gregor released his death grip on her throat and took something from his pocket. She recognized it and went still, as ice water rushed into her veins. A collar like the one Vixen had worn. He came closer, moving it toward her neck.

“No, Gregor, no. You've got it all wrong. I was never on their side.”

He smiled slowly as he slid the thing around her neck and buckled it tight, so tight it constricted her breathing. “I own you, Briar. And you're going to repay me for all I've done for you. You're going to repay me by helping me get Reaper. I'm going to lure him to me, and I'm going to drink him dry. I'm going to take all his power for myself. And once he's dead, I'm going to make you forget he ever lived.”

“Gregor, I'm telling you, I didn't betray you,” she whispered.

“Take her to the dungeon. Put her in the cage. I want her naked and in chains. No blood. No blanket. No comfort of any kind.”

The drone tugged at her, and she jerked against him. And then suddenly she was jolted as electricity surged from the collar. Her entire body went rigid in pain, and when it stopped, she sank to the floor, her muscles twitching spasmodically.

Gregor knelt beside her. “I'm going to break you, Briar. By the time I finish with you, you'll be begging. Begging for sustenance, for relief—and for me. Do you understand?”

She lifted her head, her eyes on his. “I'll never beg anyone for anything,” she whispered.

He smiled and hit the button again. She screamed this time, and when it stopped, she was too weak even to move. She thought of Vixen wearing the collar, of the way
she
had pressed that button. She closed her eyes and felt the first true regret she had ever known.

Then the drone was lifting her and carrying her away, to the basement, the dungeon, the cell.

She supposed that was where she would die. Because she would never give in.
Never.

 

Sundown. Vixen woke to find the others all still sound asleep—except for Reaper. He was gone.
But he'd agreed to let her go with him, damn him.

Startled, she leapt to her feet and went to the boxcar's sliding door, which stood slightly open. She peered out and saw him. He was at the van, gathering weapons.

Glancing back at the others, her gaze lingered on Seth's sleeping face. Just for a moment, she drank it in. She loved to look at him. He was beautiful to her, the shape of his jaw, his chin, his nose, the way his eyes lay closed so lightly. A lump came into her throat, and she closed her eyes, forcing herself to turn away. Quickly, she slipped through the open door, then turned to pull it closed, all the while straining not to make too much noise.

“Don't worry, they won't wake,” Reaper said.

She turned sharply to face him. He'd returned from the van, coming up behind her unheard. He held weapons in his hands. “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Mind control is more difficult to exercise on vampires than on humans,” he said. “But I'm older and stronger than they are.”

“You commanded them to stay at rest?”

He nodded. “Don't worry. They'll wake within the hour.” He hefted a leather strap lined with tiny loops, each one of which held a bullet. A holster hung at the end, heavy with the handgun it cradled. He lowered it over her head. “Put one arm through.” She did as he told her, and then he repeated the process with a second contraption, and bent to adjust the straps and buckles. When he finished, the straps crossed one another, and a handgun rested at each of her hips. “These are powerful—forty-caliber Glocks. They're what most police officers use. But they fire ordinary bullets. You still have your tranq gun?”

“Yes.” She pulled it out to show him. “I need more darts, though.”

He took a handful of them from his pocket, handed them to her. She loaded one into the tiny weapon, pocketed the rest and tucked the tiny gun into the back of her jeans.

“Are you afraid?”

She nodded.

“Good. It would be foolish not to be.” He studied her face, then frowned. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there's something else bothering you. You look…sad.”

She shrugged and turned toward the van. “We should go, before they wake.”

“You're not coming back with me, are you, Vixen?”

She licked her lips, lifted her chin and battled the tears that tried to gather in her eyes. “No. Once we rid the world of Gregor, I need to move on. Alone.”

“Seth really blew it, didn't he?”

“I don't want to talk about that.” She had reached the van, opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.

Reaper went around to the driver's side and got behind the wheel. He started the engine and was driving before he spoke again. “Vixen, Seth is young. Whatever he did or said to hurt you, I know he didn't mean it. He's crazy about you.”

“Not all of me,” she said softly.

He frowned, and she knew he couldn't possibly understand what she was feeling.

“There's a part of me he cares for. Perhaps very deeply. But there's another part of me that repulses him. And it just can't work between us like that.”

Reaper sighed. “I think you should give him another chance.” He focused on the road as he spoke. “And I'm older and wiser than you, so you should really listen to my advice.”

She glanced at him quickly, caught a teasing light in his eyes, and felt a sad smile tugging at her lips. She liked Reaper, she realized. “Do you have any sort of a plan?”

“Not much of one. I'm going to fall back on my childhood heroes and call him out.”

“I don't understand what that means.”

“No? You never watched any old cowboy movies?”

“No.”

“Well, I don't blame you. I've never been much for television or films myself. But when I was very young, there were a few I couldn't get enough of. And those were westerns. You just watch and learn, little one. Watch and learn.” He drove on.

 

Seth knew something was wrong the minute he woke. It was far later than it should have been, for one thing. He opened his eyes, sensed the hour and came fully awake fast, sitting up and scanning the dark interior of the boxcar. Roxy was curled up in one corner. Topaz lay not far from her side. Jack was stretched out against the far wall.