Tempting Evil (30 page)

Somehow, Rhoan found the strength to wrap a hand around my nose and hold my mouth closed. Bile rose up my throat, but I managed to swallow it down. My body trembled almost as much as Rhoan’s, and I wasn’t entirely sure his grip on my muzzle was going to stop the tide for long.

“What was what?” The second voice was gruff, bored.

“That sound. Like someone coughing and throwing up.”

“Probably our passenger. Don’t worry, with all the broken bones he’s got, he ain’t going nowhere.”

“Nowhere but the farming labs.”

They both laughed. Relief slithered through me. Rhoan released my nose, and as I glanced down, the golden haze of changing began to slide over his broken body, snatching his pain from my mind even as it began healing his wounds. He didn’t stay long in his wolf form—it was hard to do so when the pain and the wounds are so great—but at least in shifting back, the healing was helped along that little bit further. I shifted shape myself, then wrapped my fingers around his and waited.

I had no idea how long it was before the Directorate arrived. It was probably only a few minutes later, but it seemed like forever before the truck rattled to a stop. There was no fighting, no nothing, just a stationary truck and two silent guards.

Then the backboard opened and Jack was there. “About bloody time,” I muttered.

“We couldn’t stop the truck any closer to the gates. They would have seen us.” He climbed into the truck and hunkered down beside me. “How is he?”

“He’ll live.” It was Moss and Starr who wouldn’t.

“Good.” Jack’s gaze went to Rhoan. “Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know.” He coughed, a hacking sound that tore at me. “But he knew who I was.”

“How?”

He shrugged, and gave a bitter laugh. “He gave me one small comfort, though. He said I was a good fuck and he’d miss me. At least I haven’t lost my touch in that area.”

Something inside froze.

I’d heard those words before.

In the Blue Moon, when Rhoan had been snatched for milking and I’d only just started looking for him. I’d gone there to find either of Rhoan’s mates in the vague hope they might know something. Liander hadn’t been there, but Davern was. He’d been sitting at a table, getting pissed because he’d broken up with some guy. When I’d asked him why it even mattered, he’d repeated that same phrase. That
exact
same phrase.

That
was why Starr’s bloodshot eyes had seemed so familiar. Davern’s eyes that night were the image of Starr’s.

Davern
was
Starr.

But if that were true, why had Misha said that the ringleader of this whole shebang didn’t know who I was? Had he been primed to say that at a certain question? Misha might have skirmished from the edges and found ways to avoid some of Starr’s edicts, but in the end, he couldn’t totally escape the control Starr had on him. And that control had killed him.

“Riley?”

I blinked at the sharpness in my brother’s voice, and glanced down. “It’s Davern. Starr is Davern.”

“What?” Jack and Rhoan said as one.

“Where the hell did that conclusion come from?” Jack added.

I shrugged. In truth, I probably couldn’t justify the statement with facts, but intuition had gotten me out of more trouble than it had landed me in, and I wasn’t about to start questioning it now. “When I met Starr for the first time, he felt familiar. There was something about his eyes I’d seen before—and now I remember where. In the Blue Moon, when I was talking to Davern and trying to find Rhoan. I thought at the time his eyes were red because of the booze, but, despite appearances, he didn’t really act drunk. He said he’d just broken up with another mate and used that exact term.”

“Coincidence.”

I glanced at Jack. “Is it? Misha told us several times that the man behind all this was someone in my life. We’d always presumed that meant a lover of mine, but Rhoan’s mates are in my life as much as his.”

“He’s from the Helki pack,” Rhoan mused. “They’re able to take on multiple human forms, so in theory, it could be possible.”

“But it makes no sense that Davern would do that. He had Misha and Talon watching Riley, and Gautier at the Directorate. He didn’t need to put anyone on you, much less become your lover himself.”

“Maybe Gautier reported that Rhoan needed to be watched, and Davern either had no one else he trusted, or no one who was homosexual.” I looked at my brother. “Did he ask you any questions while you were being tortured?”

“No.”

“And why not? Because he didn’t need to. He might have been suspicious about your identity before our fight, but when he took you to bed, he knew for sure.” I grinned faintly. “A man’s technique rarely varies, and is usually unique to himself.”

“Thought there was something familiar in the way he went about business,” Rhoan murmured. “But I was too busy concentrating on where all the weapons were and making sure none of them were missing.”

“His bedroom is an arsenal?”

“Yeah. It also has guards, so if anyone but Starr goes near a weapon, they’d be dead in an instant.”

“From what we’ve seen,” Jack said, “Starr rarely leaves his foxhole. If that’s the case, Starr cannot be Davern.”

I frowned at him. “But Starr’s foxhole is underground, and we have no idea where the main exit is. So how can you say he never leaves?”

“Plus, Davern regularly disappeared on business trips.” Rhoan’s voice was still extremely scratchy, yet sounding stronger now that the silver had gone from his body. “It would be interesting to correlate Davern’s disappearances with Starr’s appearances.”

“Which we can do, but not right now. Riley, you need to get back.”

Rhoan grabbed my arm. “No—”

I touched a finger lightly to my brother’s lips. “Yes. He might suspect who I am, but you gave him nothing to confirm his suspicions. If I leave, he will know for sure, and then neither of us will be safe until he has been taken out. This could be our only chance to stop him and shut down the labs.”

“But—”

“No buts.” I hesitated, grinning wryly as I added, “I’ve had more than enough for one night.”

His short laugh ended up a groan. “God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much right now.”

I squeezed his hand and looked at Jack. “The driver said they were taking Rhoan to the farming labs. I’m betting if you let this truck continue its journey, you might just discover the missing Libraska lab.”

“It’s certainly worth a try.” He rose, restrained excitement evident in the way he moved. “Do you need help to get back in?”

I shook my head. “I’ll shadow and run right past the gate guards.”

“Use the out gate,” Rhoan said. “No infrared scanners.”

I nodded and bent to kiss him. “You get well while I go clean up this mess.”

He touched a finger to my nose. “Just keep this out of trouble. I don’t want to be climbing out of a sickbed to come to your rescue.”

I grinned and looked at Jack. “Are you going to be monitoring the com-link?”

“Someone will be. If you need out, just holler.”

I nodded and rose. The medics climbed into the truck as I climbed out, though there wasn’t much they could do that Rhoan’s own body couldn’t now that the silver was out—except ease the pain, which is why I had Jack call them.

I grabbed a water bottle from one of the stretcher bearers and rinsed out my mouth. Jack climbed down from the truck and walked across to where I stood.

“What are you up to?”

“Me?” I batted my eyes innocently.

He wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, you. The werewolf who has a badly beaten brother lying in that truck. Give, girl.”

“I don’t plan to do anything until you give me the thumbs-up that you’ve found the lab.” Which wasn’t exactly true, as I planned to try and rescue Nerida.

Not that I actually thought
that
would be achievable.

“And when and if you do get the thumbs-up?”

“Then I plan to kill the bastards who did that to my brother.”

He grinned and patted my arm. “That’s my girl.”

I shook off his touch. “It’s not for you or the Directorate. It’s for Rhoan and me.”

“I don’t care about the reasons, I just care about the kill. You’re going to be a great guardian once you fully accept your fate.”

“Don’t hold your breath waiting for it, boss.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I did. I don’t actually need to breathe.”

Well, yeah. I guess it was a pretty stupid statement to make to a vampire. “I’ll leave the link on.”

“If you start getting static, turn it off. It probably means they’re catching the signal.”

“Will do.”

I turned on my heel, wrapped the shadows around me, and ran back to Starr’s property. The dinner bell was ringing loud and clear as I neared the house. I swore under my breath and headed for my room. The window was still open, so I climbed through, grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my body to hide the blood, grime, and scratches, then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

A guard appeared minutes later. “Hey, you, can’t you hear the dinner bell? Hurry up.”

I hurried. At least there was one good thing about running around in skin—no struggle trying to pull clothes over a wet body. I finger-combed my hair as the guard hustled me along.

I expected to be led to the holding pens behind the main arena for our wrestling match, but instead was taken into the arena room itself and led to a table.

Berna was already there. I plonked down beside her and crossed my arms.

“A successful affair?” she asked, as the guard walked to the back of the room.

“Yep.”

“Then how the hell are we going to rescue Nerida?”

“I don’t think we really can.”

Her fury swept over me, its heat blistering. “We had a deal.”

“We had a deal to
try
.” I waved a hand around the room. “Do you think either of us have a chance of getting her out with all the hardware and personnel in this place?”

“I can’t
not
try.”

There was a desperation in her voice that was more than just concern. More than just a favor owed.

Berna and Nerida, as I’d suspected earlier, were lovers as well as friends.

“We may not be able to get her out, but maybe we can give her the one thing she really wants.”

“But in seeking that she may very well
die
.” In the depths of her eyes, a war between fury and fear briefly raged, but the emotions were gone as quickly as they’d appeared, sucked away behind a facade of calm acceptance.

There was no “very well” about it. Nerida was going to die, and we both knew it. And the pain I’d seen so briefly in Berna’s eyes only confirmed that. “Look, this is her one chance to fight Merle, and possibly kill him. Do you honestly think she’d appreciate you taking that chance away from her?”

“Probably not. But I can’t—”

“You can. You have to. They’ll kill us both the minute we try to make any rescue attempt, and I’m sorry, but this operation is too darn important to risk that.”

And if
she
tried, I’d have to stop her. She knew too much now. If they caught her, and she blabbed…

My gut churned at the thought of killing Berna, but I’d come too far now to let it all fall apart at the last hurdle.

Berna made a low sound in the back of her throat. Whether it was anguish or acceptance was anyone’s guess.

“If she fights Merle, maybe she can put her ghosts to rest.”

“I thought you said the ghosts wanted her death?”

“The ghosts here, yeah. I meant the ghosts holding her to such a destructive path.”

Berna shook her head. “There will be no pleasing them until both men are dead.”

I looked at her. “And if I promise to finish what she starts?”

Berna’s gaze raked me. “I think maybe they might be satisfied. I doubt she will be, though.”

“Isn’t one revenge better than nothing?”

“She’s obsessed. Sensible thinking is not exactly her high point at the moment.” She shifted, staring at me. “How do you plan to help her beat those creatures?”

“By giving her the key to their destruction.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I’ve fought creatures very similar.” Only mine had been a mix of griffon, cat, and human with arching gold and brown wings.

Berna didn’t ask where, which was good, because I wasn’t about to tell her.

The doors down the far end of the room opened, and with all the ceremony of a king entering his domain, Starr swept in and took his seat. But his gaze ran around the room, as if seeking something. When it stopped on me, I knew he’d found it. I was too far away to see if there was any surprise in his eyes, but the smile that touched his lips had a shiver running down my spine. I had no idea what that smile meant, but it sure as hell couldn’t be good.

Waiters appeared, dropping platters of food on every table. I ate because I had to eat, because I’d need the strength, not because I actually wanted to.

As we ate, a solitary man walked into the arena. Once again the babble of voices died, and excitement rushed into the void. Starr’s guests had a taste for blood sports, and that’s certainly what was provided in the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The bald guy’s voice rang out loud and clear across the vast arena, and the soft clink of cutlery died. “There has been a change of plans tonight. We will not be offering the wrestling, as originally planned.”

A disappointed murmur rolled through the crowd—though it wasn’t something any of the fighters added to.

“Instead, we have the possibility of a death match. But only if the fighter survives a match with our Kayvan.”

Another murmur went though the crowd, but this time it was filled with anticipation. I had to hope that Jack found the lab, because then he could get here and clean up these sickos.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s fighter.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and the far side section of the arena began to slide up. From it came two men and Nerida.

“This fighter, Nerida Smith, was caught trying to assassinate Alden Merle.”

Laughter trickled around the arena. Even the announcer smiled before continuing. “She has been sentenced to death via the arena. If she survives the Kayvan, she will meet her target in a battle to the death.”