Into the Light (The Admiral's Elite Book 2) (34 page)

“Becca,” he whispered in her ear. It wouldn’t help if the demon figured out what he was doing. “Becca, it’s me.”

Whimpering, her sandy brows were pinched together; clearly pleasure had turned to pain. Becca turned her face away from him so that he was looking directly at the dried blood along her hairline. “Please, no, Michael.”

That she thought him the cause of her pain sent an icy blade tearing through his insides. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in personal drama, he reminded himself. If he let her be consumed, they had no foreseeable defense against this demon. Girding himself to face her torment, he tried again. “Becca,” he continued to speak softly so as not to frighten her. “Becca, my love, I want you to dance with me.”

Frowning already, she squinted. “You want me to what?”

A hint of a smile played at Michael’s taut lips. That was his girl; she was still in there. “I promised, remember? I want you to dance with me.” Keeping his gaze focused entirely on Becca’s troubled face, Michael pictured the cavern and her positioning on the other side of the limestone wall.

The sound of a paw scuffing rock reached his ears and Michael glanced up to see that Ryan had backed up enough to check on what he was doing. By the puzzled look in his eyes, Michael imagined Becca was listening to his commands. Beckoning with a finger, he called the wolf to him and whispered in his large ear. A nod and Ryan trotted back to where he could keep an eye on the goings on in the cavern and the antechamber.

One eye on his scout, one on his unwitting accomplice, Michael grimaced when Ryan’s head wagged back and forth. A scan of Becca’s pinched features told him she was too frightened of him to function. Tentatively, he ran a finger down the side of her face and she flinched away from him. Knowing what her reaction would be and seeing it were two different things. Michael set about drawing her in. He had to be fast though, the blood trails continued and her flesh grew more pale by the minute. Thankfully the demon wasn’t a real vampire or he would have drained her by now. Glowering at the thought, Michael kept himself from flying through the chamber and doing serious violence to the demon next door. This was what had to happen to get her back, all of her, or he would lose her for sure, he reminded himself and his vampire. The vampire was not happy but the thought of losing its mate was enough to keep it at bay for a little while.

“Do you remember the night we came home from hunting that rogue vampire in Albuquerque?”

The edges of her features relaxed. “Yes.”

“Do you remember our first date?”

Her lips twitched and his did in reply. She remembered.

The mission had been short and sweet. The vampire was a bad one, a clear-cut case of termination. They were able to locate him quickly and return home. It was less than 24 hours. Unfortunately, they planned on going out before returning home but Black called, letting them know they were expected back right away. There was another mission waiting. They were going to Amsterdam after a vicious were with a taste for cross dressers from the red light district. Becca tried to hide her disappointment, but they had been together over a month without a proper date. She’d been looking forward to a night out together; no missions and no surveillance, maybe even some time on the dance floor.

After their back to back meetings in the war room downstairs at the estate, Michael had snuck off to the kitchen and threw together what he could manage, sending Ryan up to knock on Becca’s door. By the time she made it onto the back yard, he’d arranged a small meal. Really it was pathetic by romantic standards, except he’d seen the way her eyes shone in the starlight. The moon was only a crescent, but by the light of the stars he’d seen how happy she’d been. Hands going to her mouth, she’d been genuinely and pleasantly shocked by his impromptu picnic.

A menu of crackers, three types of cheese and a few pieces of fruit had to do. Scrounging deep in the pantry had revealed a small handful of Andes mints and he’d tossed those on the tray as a sad answer to desert. A thick comforter served as their bed/table, making the baked ground a touch easier on them as they sat for hours and she ate the entire platter herself. The one upside was the bottle of wine he’d been able to scare up. It was a rare one and he’d paid Gabrielle handsomely for taking it. Still, the quality had earned the meager fare forgiveness and rounded out their romantic evening.

“I wish we could have gone dancing,” Becca commented, her head in his lap while she stared at the hundreds of stars slowly spiraling above. “Not clubbing.” She twisted to see his face. “Real dancing.”

And Michael got up, dusted himself off and held out a hand. Becca laughed at first but he shook his outstretched limb at her, raising one eyebrow. She took it and, effortlessly, he helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm behind her back and pulling her close. No music save the night sounds of the desert and no lights but those nature lent them, the two had barely begun to move when the front doors creaked open and Ryan called, “Wheels up in fifteen.”

He capitalized on the euphoric glow the memory created in her. “I want to dance with you for real.” Both arms slipped under hers, the pain shooting through him bitten back and hidden by a skyward glance as he hauled her limp form up, tucking her against him. Dark eyes flicked up and caught green ones looking back. The wolf turned his head then came back, bobbing his snout confirming that Michael’s approach had worked. Becca was indeed maneuvering the demon.

Now, more than ever, Michael gave Ryan his full attention. The big auburn head leaned right and Michael shifted her body in the same direction. The big wolfish head bobbed enthusiastically. It had worked; the ghostly version of Becca could be led with her physical form. Ryan tipped his nose up twice in rapid succession indicating they needed to go straight back. Uncertain how to make her do that, Michael whispered in her ear to go back, the footing was more even there and he didn’t want her to turn an ankle. Apparently, Ryan heard him and the green eyes rolled before he turned back to the cavern. A muffled snort and Michael shot him a warning glare though inside he was elated. Ryan raised a paw telling him they had the demon lined up.

Good thing, Becca’s exposed flesh on her chest and face had gone porcelain. Even the blue lines of her veins below the skin were visible. The blood trailing down her chest stained the light colored top a deep red and the spots where it was drying were turning brown. That all of her cuts’ bleeding had slowed wasn’t entirely a good thing. Michael could hear her heart and it was struggling. He knew that a taste of his blood could save her, but at what cost? On top of what she already had in her system, another infusion could prove enough to push her over the edge and into immortality or madness, possibly both. Anxious, he gave Ryan the signal that it was time.

“I’m so sorry Becca,” he told her honestly, bracing himself for what he was about to do. “But I need you back right now.”

“What?” was all she got out before the back of his hand snapped her mouth shut and her head lolled sideways. Already close, she lost consciousness completely and Michael caught the blur of cinnamon leaping from the room and into the cavern.

For several agonizing seconds, Michael waited. A quick series of yips, an enraged scream and then the air was sucked from the room. The fires that had flared and flickered in the cavern, lighting the antechamber in their dancing shadows, burned bright for one brief moment then went out, leaving them all in darkness.

His ears picked them up first, the sounds of their paws on the packed stone floor drawing near, then he saw them emerge from the shadows. Gabrielle was limping on her front paw but otherwise they were fine. Pausing, they waited for Michael to scoop Becca up and settle her against his chest. Her body was cold and her breathing shallow. If he could have anything at that moment, it would have been some sort of reassurance that he’d been able to return her to her body before they sent the demon tumbling back into the line where it belonged. Thankfully, demons can only cross when someone or something can be convinced to bring them over. Once the demon crossed the line again, it sealed itself. No doubt Becca would have been unable to assist in any sort of “witchy” capacity if additional help was needed.

Cold body pressed to his, which offered her no warmth, Michael carried her back up through the tunnels and into the bank. Once again, the manager was enlisted to let them out the back without the peep of a single alarm. After they were back in the alley, the wolves took to the woods and made their way back to the motel. No pockets or keys, they would wait nearby until Michael returned to let them in. He would face the police alone.

Years of experience told him to face the chief and detective head on. They didn’t have a culprit to turn over but would guarantee that he wouldn’t return. Briefly, Michael considered locating a petty criminal or homeless individual who wouldn’t be missed to provide a body. No, he shook it off, although it would make things easier he couldn’t do it. He would have to blame it on their shadowy partners and maybe a hint of black helicopters, and face the wrath of those less powerful.

So, beloved tucked safely in his arms, Michael stepped out of the theatre entrance where their standoff had begun less than two hours before and blinked in the midmorning winter’s gloom.

Chapter 33

Becca woke to the sound of twin engines grinding away beneath her and the familiar scent of Michael filling her nose. For a few panicked heartbeats, she feared she was back in the demon’s arms, him pretending to be Michael and failing miserably. With her head on straight she knew right away it was him because Michael’s kisses might inflame her, but they were not in and of themselves warm. The demon’s face was Michael’s even if his temperature was not. Nor was his cruelty. The real Michael would never hurt her. That belief rang as true in her mind now as it did when she’d first seen him taking Black’s beating for saving her life that first night. The way he’d looked at her, the reverence he held her in since, told her to trust her instincts. Michael was her ally, no matter what.

Opening her eyes, she stretched and stopped herself when the awkward adhesive square on her throat folded into her skin. Hand reaching up, she investigated. Remembering the rough details of what had transpired, she sighed. Another exchange with a demon and she’d come out victorious. How many more times could that happen? No human had any sort of long-running track record where demons were involved, did they?

The hand that squeezed hers brought her mind screeching back to the man seated in the cream-colored leather seat beside her. Peering up at his worried expression, Becca felt a twinge of sympathy. He must think she blamed him for what the demon had done. Only she didn’t. As soon as it had been sent back into its line she felt her head come back. Both the part of her in the demon as well as the part in Michael had snapped back into her head simultaneously. Blinking, she leaned up against him only to jerk back upright. Hand going to her jaw, she rubbed at it delicately and looked askance at him. Had that part been real?

Michael’s cool exterior warned her of danger. A quick glance around and she saw that Ryan was sitting up front with Gabrielle, their pilot. They were giving them space to talk. Nerves pinched at her stomach.

“Did you want to tell me what happened?” she asked evenly. There was no use beating around the bush. That never did anyone any good.

“We sent the demon back and it’s possible we’ll never be allowed in River Falls again.” He forced a short laugh and Becca tried, wincing when the skin over her jaw tightened.

She caught the grinding of his teeth when she winced. “All of it.”

If he were human, he would have sighed or at least taken a deep breath. Instead, he took in only enough to speak and stared past her, out her window at the blackness of the night sky. Night? “The demon had your mind and it was draining you. We were ready to throw it back into the ley line but we needed to get you out of it. You were out of it and we didn’t have time to talk you back.” He lifted his chin, refusing to look at her. “There was only one way I knew to shock you back fast enough. I hit you.”

Becca sensed his shame; it was palpable. Fingers gently tracing what had to be a monster bruise forming on the side of her jaw already, she couldn’t help but smile. That hurt and she winced, which made her smile again, and back to wincing.

When she glanced up, he was staring at her, a stupefied expression on his face. “Can I ask what you find funny about that?”

Stifling a giggle, she held a finger under her nose and sniffed. The giggles still wanted to come so it took a few more inhale/exhale cycles before she could trust herself. “How pissed was Salvo when you told him case solved but you don’t get the perp?”