Return to Me (Storm Lords) (16 page)

The sound of the whirring blades was strangely soporific, and she amazed herself by falling into a light doze. She came wide-awake when the soothing sound changed and she’d jolted upright in her seat, sure that they were about to crash.

Cade grinned over his shoulder. “We’re coming in to land.”

Relief flooded her, and she peered out of the window. They were sinking down toward a flat rooftop, one of a number of buildings within a walled compound. All around, the lights of a city spread out as far as she could see.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Mexico City,” Torr replied.

“You have a house here?” She didn’t want to sound impressed, but it definitely came out that way.

“The company does. We have offices in all the major cities and this is where we stay if we need to visit.”

Phoebe had been busy. Not only had she been cooking, but she’d also somehow managed to procure new clothes for Bella.

Bella showered in the luxurious room Torr had shown her to, and then dressed in clean clothes. Not her usual jeans, but tight black pants tucked into high boots and a fuchsia pink sweater, which hugged her small breasts and clashed wonderfully with her hair.

She came out to find Torr leaning against the wall, waiting for her. Opening her mouth to call him a stalker, she shut it again—at least he hadn’t followed her into the shower. He’d also found some clothes, probably his own, as they were his usual style —black pants, a black shirt, and a long leather trench coat that nearly swept the ground. He looked lean, mean, and capable of taking on anything. She found the idea comforting.

In the huge kitchen, she sat at the end of a long table and ate delicious fajitas washed down with Corona, while eyeing Torr and Cade, who sat at the far end discussing their secrets in hushed voices.

When she finally couldn’t eat any more, she sat back in her chair and sighed. Torr looked up and rose to his feet.

“Better?”

“Much.”

Now all she wanted was a comfortable bed, a long sleep, and maybe forget everything for a while. She had a suspicion things weren’t going to happen that way.

“We have to go out,” Torr said.

She had a brief hope that the ‘we’ referred to Torr and Cade, and that she wasn’t included. The hope shriveled fast as he held out a hand to her.

“Do I have to come?” She hated the whine in her voice, but could do nothing about it.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I won’t go anywhere.”

“It’s not safe.”

Bella glanced across the room to where Phoebe stood talking to Cade quietly. “Phoebe gets to stay on her own.”

“Somebody isn’t after Phoebe. I need you where I know you’re safe. Which means with me.”

It was sweet really. She huffed out a breath and gave in to the inevitable. Besides, the truth was, Torr did make her feel safe.

“So where are we going?” she asked half an hour later.

The car had dropped them off a few blocks back. Now, Torr had her hand clamped tight in his, as he dragged her down some dark alley, in some run down part of the city, heading who knew where. She had the distinct impression that if he could have gotten away with handcuffing her to his side, he would have done.

As they passed, people slunk into the shadows, fading out of their path. At least, she thought they were people. Bella didn’t blame them. Cade had donned a matching trench coat and the two together looked downright mean. They moved through the city streets as though they belonged to the darkness of the night. Above them, flickers of crimson lightning illuminated the sky and the air around them crackled with electricity.

Finally, they came to a halt outside a dark doorway. She tugged on Torr’s sleeve. “Please, just tell me why we’re here.”

“This is the last place my friend was seen.”

“And you think he might be here?”

“We have to start somewhere. Stay close to me.”

As he pushed open the door, Bella realized the building was actually some sort of bar or nightclub. Inside, the lights were bright and the music low but thumping. Bella kept close to Torr as he stepped inside and the heavy door clicked shut behind them. The place was crowded, all the tables filled; the customers a mixture of well-heeled to positively sleazy. Everyone glanced at the door as they entered, and the low buzz of conversation ceased abruptly.

She caught one man’s gaze and was sure his eyes flashed crimson before he looked the other way. A second snarled as they passed. Cade whirled around and the sound was cut-off. Bella couldn’t see his expression, but the man took one look, shoved back his chair, and sloped into the shadows at the edge of the room, to vanish.

A stage ran along the far side and a nearly naked dancer, with unbelievably large breasts, and even more improbably bright blonde hair, gyrated around a pole, seeming oblivious to what was going on around her.

The air was heavy with smoke, and the stench of sweat and expensive perfume mixed into a cloying combination which clung to her skin and clogged her lungs. Something unnatural hung in the air, fogging her mind.

Torr moved to the side of the room, his hand tightening around her, while Cade stepped up to the bar and spoke with the barman whose eyes widened in surprise. When he shook his head, Cade leaned toward him, grabbed the front of his T-shirt, and pulled him halfway across the bar. All around the room, the lights flickered.

Cade leaned in close and spoke again, this time the bartender nodded, a frantic movement of his head. Cade dropped him. The man scurried back, and a moment later the music stopped as Cade turned around and addressed the room. “Get out.
Vaya
!”

One by one, the chairs were kicked out and customers rose and left the bar. They were, for the most part, silent; but as one man passed, he spat and muttered the words, “Storm Lord.” It didn’t sound like a compliment. As his eyes flickered to where she stood beside Torr, he spoke again, “Destroyer.”

Torr’s head swung around and he stared at the man who looked at the floor and scuttled out.

Bella frowned. Stormlord was the name of their company; but who or what was the Destroyer? And did she really want to know?

It took only moments for the bar to empty. Soon, only the bartender was left and the dancer, who gazed around her as if wondering where everybody had gone. The barman went up to the stage and spoke to her. She stumbled off and disappeared around the back, and he turned back to them.

He was young, probably about Bella’s age. She would have classified him as gorgeous if he hadn’t been standing beside Cade, who could put anyone she had ever met, apart from Torr, into the shade. Blond, shoulder length hair, tall, with a lean rangy body, and a long bony face. A nametag with ‘Mitch’ across it was clipped to his chest. He also had the same sense of leashed power she felt when she was close to Torr and his friends, but muted, subdued. He stepped toward them, eyes narrowed.

“We have violated none of your laws,” Mitch said. “What right do you have to come—”

“Shut up,” Torr snarled, and Bella jumped at the sound of his voice. Low, filled with menace. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know—”

His words were cut off by Cade. Faster than Bella could follow, he drew a long knife from a sheath beneath his coat and leapt across the room. The gleaming blade pressed against the bartender’s throat.

Bella gasped and held her breath.

“Tell me where he is, wolf, and I might let you live.”

Cade’s tone was like ice, sending a shiver of unease trickling down her spine. He drew the blade back, and a small bead of crimson blood welled up from the wound. Mitch stumbled, backing away from Cade, who held the blade poised.

“
Madre de dios
.” Mitch wiped the back of his hand across his throat then stared at the blood staining his fingers. He lifted it to his face and sniffed, his eyes glowing. “Fucking son-of-a-bitch, you cut me.”

Cade took a step toward him. “I’ll rip off your fucking head if you don’t talk. Where is he?”

Mitch held up his hand. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. They have him in the basement. But I swear we didn’t know he was one of you.”

“How the hell could you not know?”

“You really think we would have risked having him here, if we’d known he belonged to your lot? We’re not total fucking idiots.” Cade raised an eyebrow and Mitch continued, “Anyway they’ve kept him pretty much under wraps. As far as I can tell, he’s been unconscious the whole time.”

“Drugged?”

“How the hell should I know?”

Cade growled low in his throat.

“Probably.” Mitch glanced between Cade and Torr then around at the empty bar. “Look, just get your friend and get the hell out of here. You’re not exactly good for business.”

“Lead the way.” Cade gestured with the knife and the man shuffled past him giving them all a wide birth. Reaching across the bar, he picked up a set of keys. He turned and jumped when he found Cade directly behind him.

“How many guards?” Cade asked.

“Two.”

“Only two? Are you sure?”

“I told you, he’s unconscious.”

Cade came back to stand in front of them. He leaned in and spoke so low, Bella had to strain to hear him. “You think the wolf is telling the truth? It could be a trap. Bryce might already be dead.”

“I don’t think so,” Torr said. “We’d have sensed it. I think this was just a plot to distract me, maybe draw us out in the open, give them a chance to get hold of—” He broke off abruptly and Bella had the distinct impression that he had been about to say her name.
But why would anyone want to ‘get her’? It didn’t make sense.
Then again, none of this did. She presumed from their conversations that their friend Bryce was here, that someone was holding him prisoner. Did this mean he wasn’t a murderer after all? She hoped so.

“Bryce won’t be dead,” Torr said emphatically. “Lilith, for all her faults, won’t allow them to kill him. Bryce was one of hers once. She’ll remember that. Come on, let’s go find him.”

Who the hell was Lilith?

Before she could ask, Torr turned to her. “Stay close behind me.”

Bella intended to stay very, very close.

***

Torr bit back his impatience as the shifter fumbled with the keys. Finally, the door swung open. Mitch glanced back at them, and Cade gestured for him to go through first. He opened his mouth to argue, caught sight of Cade’s expression, and decided against it. He stepped through the doorway, followed closely by Cade, Torr and Bella.

At least Bella had paid attention to him and was so close he could feel the warmth from her body. She appeared to be taking this remarkably well.

Lilith couldn’t kill her; that would break the Covenant, and Torr would be free of the demoness forever, which was not what she was after. But he wouldn’t be surprised to find that she was involved in this. While she couldn’t act directly, she could help behind the scenes and nothing happened in the Abyss without Lilith knowing.

The door opened into a narrow passageway. Torr followed them to a stairway at the far end, which led underground. The walls were bare concrete and the lighting dim. He breathed in deeply and caught the faint whiff of sulfur. At the bottom of the stairs, a closed steel door barred the way. The wolf nodded toward it and stepped back.

“Wait here,” Cade growled. He glanced toward Torr, who gave a slight incline of his head.

Torr turned to Bella. Her eyes were huge. “What happens, now?” she whispered.

“Cade goes in there, and gets our friend.”

“Aren’t there guards? Shouldn’t you go and help him.”

“Only two. I think Cade can handle two.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as Cade kicked in the door. He felt Bella’s indrawn breath and pulled her even closer, hiding her face against his chest. Maybe he should have left her back at the house. But he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t go after her there. Those shadow demons on the beach had shaken him. He could keep her safe from them, but without his protection, they would suck the soul from her body and leave her an empty shell. No, he couldn’t let her out of his sight.

She tensed in his arms as thunder rumbled from the room and flashes of bright crimson light lit up the doorway.

“All clear,” Cade called.

Torr loosened his grip on Bella and set her from him. He stepped inside and looked around. The room was bare of any furniture. The bodies of the guards had vanished, leaving nothing but a greasy smear of ash on the floor where they’d fallen. The scent of sulfur still lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp acrid stench of fresh and old blood.

Bryce was shackled to the wall at the far side of the room; his arms secured high above his head. He sagged from the restraints, clearly unconscious. Which was just as well. He was a mess. Naked, his whole body was a crisscross pattern of knife slashes. Blood still oozed from the wounds, but he would heal. If he wanted to.

How had they taken him? Had he let them? Had he hoped to find the peace he had begged Torr to give him, nearly a year ago. The peace Torr had denied him. They still didn’t know for sure whether Bryce had been involved in the murders. He could only hope not.