King of Darkness (10 page)

Isabel opened her mouth but couldn’t manage to say anything.

“Can I ask you something?” he murmured.

“Sure.”

“About Alexia. You never really answered me.”

“We, uh, met in the party scene.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”

She smiled. Her buzz was fading and the impish side of her was coming out to play. “I can, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

“You drank from her, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Do you still—”

“No,” she said quickly. “Not for a long time now.”

“So why didn’t you wipe her memory?”

That was an excellent question. “I tried. It didn’t work. We ended up becoming friends.”

His mouth formed a silent “oh.” It wasn’t clear whether he had more to say, but a hearty knock on the door effectively ended the conversation. Truth be told, Isabel welcomed the intrusion. The weight of their conversation was making her twitchy now that she was sobering up. “Yo, Izzy, I’ve got doughnuts! The ‘Hot’ sign was on!”

Mmm. A rumble of anticipation came out of Isabel’s stomach. Nothing she loved like a fresh glazed doughnut.

She bounded off the bed to open the door. According to the clock, they’d been together in the dimly lit room for many hours. Somehow, it barely seemed like minutes had passed. Time really did fly sometimes.

“Hey, Lex, did you get coffee too?” It was midafternoon, and Isabel hadn’t slept yet. Something told her she wouldn’t get the chance until Thad and his bodyguard left town.

“You bet,” Lexi called as she headed back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, I could kiss you. We’ll be out in a sec!”

“What’s the hot sign?”

What? Isabel spun around. “Hello, the ‘Hot’ sign at Krispy Kreme? Don’t tell me you’ve never had a Krispy Kreme.”

He held his palms up. “Sorry. Not a big staple of my diet.”

Okay. All heavy stuff aside, she had to introduce this male to the pleasures of a nice warm doughnut. “Well, you’ve gotta get out here and try one then. They totally melt in your mouth when they’re warm.”

Reaching back toward where he now sat on the bed, she tugged his arm and led him out the door.

***

Anton surfaced to consciousness, aware of little more than the impossible combination of searing agony and bone-numbing chill that engulfed his body. The sounds around him indicated that he was in the woods. Wasn’t that where the Master had told them to leave him? He wondered why he’d been allowed to live, or if perhaps they had assumed he wouldn’t. Why hadn’t they bled him out to ensure that his body turned to dust? Maybe they wanted him to suffer before he kicked it.

Through the fog of pain he attempted to take stock of his injuries. His skull throbbed, his skin had been stripped off his body in many places, and for some reason he was unable to open his eyes. And that was just the good stuff. The fact that he was bruised and probably sporting a few broken bones was the least of his problems. His stomach was full of acid, and he wasn’t sure he could move. Dampness on his skin indicated that it was slicked with a whole lot of fresh blood, and if his former comrades didn’t return to kill him, it was only a matter of time before some predatory animal would.

He pictured Tyra’s face in his head, and hot tears began to stream down his temples. The woman he’d been sent to capture for his father’s use and had fallen in love with instead. The ache of humiliation over failing to warn her in time was more excruciating than any physical pain he could bear. He could only hope that he’d bought her some time.

Without a doubt, if Petros got his hands on her, she would be captured. At best, she would be killed. At worst… he couldn’t bear to think about that. He had to get the fuck out of here. Had to find her. Somehow, he had to warn her. Providing he could get her to listen. Providing he could even get himself off the ground. That last bit was looking very iffy.

He shifted his right arm slightly and groaned at the pain. Broken wrist, he would wager. And—
gaaah
—ribs, too. He was still naked. Patches of skin were stiff and sticky. The coating of blood would soon dry or freeze all over. Hypothermia was a distinct possibility. It was winter, after all.

As much as Anton despised himself for it, now was the time when he needed to use the only power he had ever acquired. If he even could. Agony shot through him as he willed his arm off his body to lie palm up by his side. The left one was already there. Excellent. Things were looking up already.

A wave of nausea rolled from Anton’s gut to his throat. The stars behind his eyelids suggested that he might black out again, and then he would be 100 percent screwed. He willed himself to focus, to perk the fuck up just a little so he could perhaps save himself from bleeding out or leaking gray matter onto the forest floor.

He saw Tyra’s face in his mind’s eye, protecting and caring for the homeless souls in that shelter he’d tracked her to. She was everything he wasn’t: beautiful, pure…
good
. Even if he made it out of here in one piece, even if he saved her, there was no chance she would ever return his affection.

Even if they weren’t supposed to be sworn mortal enemies, she would probably take him for some kind of psycho. That falling-in-love-from-afar shit was the stuff of Hallmark movies, not for the son of evil incarnate looking to reform himself and a half-human vampire who could probably use him as a shot put. If he hadn’t known she was still in extreme danger, he would have been inclined to just give it up and let himself die here in… wherever he was.

Focus, asshole
. Panic caused Anton’s heart rate to surge. He had to get out of here. He had to get the fuck out of here. Tyra was still in danger, and pain or no pain, he needed to get his act together if he had so much as a snowball’s chance of saving her.

A deep breath set off a coughing fit, and white-hot agony shot through his chest and arm. A punctured lung, maybe? He focused all the brain power he could muster, until… Hallelujah… he felt the sensation of static electricity at his fingertips. His body began to get warm. It was working.

“Thank God,” Anton murmured. Never mind that God was probably waiting to smite him. God was gonna have to get in line.

An arc of energy sparked from one palm to another, but it was as weak as the rest of him. Thankfully, the excruciating pounding in his skull seemed to be dialing itself down to a mere agonizing throb. Some sort of pulse began to flow between his hands, but after a few seconds the energy faded again. God
fucking
dammit!

Through his mental fog, he registered a distinct shuffle of footsteps. Leaves rustled and twigs cracked, and Anton knew it was too much to hope that some friendly woodland creature had come bearing painkillers and a change of clothes for him.

“No.” A bone-deep understanding sank in. They had not, in fact, decided to leave him alive. His father’s last kiss-off to the son he’d so despised had been to give the illusion of a reprieve when there was none. They were coming back to finish him off. With what he knew to be one of his last remaining breaths, he prayed that perhaps his beloved Tyra still might be saved. Sure, God was probably pissed, but praying was all Anton had left.

Heavy boot steps halted just short of stepping on Anton’s head, and a handful of blurry figures gathered around him. Then, there was nothing but darkness again.

Movement stopped Thad short just as he was buttoning his pants. Isabel was behind him. Her citrusy scent filled his nostrils, and just by remembering what had transpired after he’d smelled it the first time, he could practically feel the heat of her mouth on him. Lemons would never be the same again.

She didn’t seem to know that he was aware of her presence, so he took advantage of the opportunity to do what males of every species have done in the presence of a desired mate since the beginning of time: he showed off his assets.

He left the button undone and pushed his Sliders jeans down discreetly under the guise of resting his hands on his hips while he studied her collage of party flyers. Most of them seemed to be from Insomniac, the club where they had “met.”

Then he squeezed his shoulder blades a bit and stretched as one would upon waking, complete with a low groan, before flexing and reaching in an exaggerated arc to grab his shirt from her bed. It all felt incredibly silly, but when his sensitive ears picked up the slight hitch in her breath, he smiled with satisfaction.

“Hey there,” he said, turning to her as he shrugged into a denim button-down shirt.

She ran her gaze back over Thad and licked her lips a little. Once or twice she returned to the medallion on his chest before she spoke. “I didn’t mean to barge in. I kind of thought you’d be dressed already.”

Since Alexia had first returned with the doughnuts, things had taken a decidedly uncomfortable turn. The open, impassioned, connected energy that had flowed between them a few hours earlier in this very room seemed to have evaporated with the last sizzle of effect from the wine they had consumed together.

Talk of her returning home with him had been met with a very bleak “I can’t,” and despite the small size of the apartment, she and Alexia had both managed to avoid him successfully for a good while as he and Lee discussed strategies for after they returned home.

She was nervous and fidgety now. Distant. Still, he said, “Nothing you haven’t already seen. Thanks for letting me use your shower, by the way.” The suggestive smile he gave her only made her step back a little.

Damn.

“I see you left your number,” she said quietly. “So. I’ll call you.”

He nodded. “Good. I hope you do.” A small smile came to her lips as he drew close and tucked a silky strand of auburn hair behind her ears. Her eyes, however, remained strangely vacant. Like in her mind she had already said good-bye.

Still, he refused to let her off the hook too easily. He maintained eye contact as he fastened his fly and buttoned his shirt. This, too, he did more slowly than needed. Isabel might be trying to pull away, but clearly the desire was still there for both of them. Her eyes flicked repeatedly to follow his fingers, telling him he was right about that. He didn’t intend to let her forget it. His leather jacket went on and they stood staring at each other, an awkward silence stretching between them.

Gently, Thad reached forward and threaded his fingers through hers. Just as she had done with him earlier while they were lying together on the bed. There was a low rumble in his voice. “Thank you for today. I truly enjoyed it.” He winked suggestively. “In more ways than one. I do hope you’ll give some thought to what we discussed. Maybe just come visit. Stay a few days. No pressure.”

“I definitely will.”

They were lying to each other. The nervous dart of her eyes, the sudden flush of her neck… she had no intention of calling. Was she hoping he’d simply forget that the safety of their race was on the line? That a well-placed meteor would strike earth and wipe out all of their wizard enemies in one fell swoop?

For his part, Thad had assured her that she could take all the time she needed to think things over, but that wasn’t true, either. Time was running short. His earlier conversation with Tyra had revealed that a conservative member of the Elders’ Council was pushing for the society to be run by committee only, effectively rendering Thad’s position obsolete. Having that gang of old bastards at the helm would send their society back into the Dark Ages.

And all of the political stuff aside, there was a pull between Isabel and himself that he could not ignore. She didn’t seem able to ignore it either, but she was really fighting hard. He suspected that she had not opened up to many about the gruesome death of her parents. Subsequent questions had led to her hesitant admission that she had drifted for some time, feeding from humans and hiding from the sun in abandoned buildings and the like before stumbling onto the rave scene.

It was heart-wrenching to know that she had been on her own from such a young age. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came to the emotions of females, but he would wager that opening up had left her feeling quite vulnerable.

So yeah, he’d give her a little space. Enough to regroup and to come up with a plan for convincing her to be by his side. And if he couldn’t convince her? Well, he was the king, for crying out loud. He’d make it happen one way or another. After all, he knew where she lived now. Even if she went elsewhere to hide, he could find her as he had before. She had to know that.

This was only the beginning.

The moment was broken when Lee banged loudly on the door. “Yo, T, your sister’s here.”

Thad smiled, squeezed Isabel’s hand again, and turned to go. “Coming.”

***

Lee was on high alert. Thad’s sister was pacing the tiny living room with a black duffel bag slung over one shoulder. It was one of the two she’d retrieved from Thad’s rental SUV a short while before. Lee had taken his and changed into a clean T-shirt. He was now checking and rechecking the clock, feeling as antsy as she looked.

“Something’s coming, Lee,” Tyra said.

He’d already begun to screw the silencer onto his H&K MK23.