Undying Desire (16 page)

“How do you want this to go down?”

Kenric rolled the pearl handle of one of his daggers inside his palm and stared out into the empty, dark street. “Take them by surprise.” The elder vampire faced Arran. “We won’t get another chance. We move in hard and fast and get Guerin the hell out of there.” He looked away. “What’s left of him.”

“Guerin is not Markus.” Arran squeezed the wood of the steering wheel. God knew he needed something to ground him. “He’s stronger than that. You’ve known him longer than any of us, but from what I’ve seen during the years I’ve been in service to you, Guerin, and the Enclave, it would take a hell of a lot more than a week with a female for him to snap.” Kenric closed his fist around the hilt of his weapon. “You survived her mother, and Guerin will survive her daughter.”

Kenric sheathed the blade, the metal sliding into the sleeve without a sound.

“You’re right.” Kenric glanced his way. “So let’s go have a little family reunion and retrieve my second-in-command.”

Arran reached for the door handle, but his cell vibrated against his chest, bringing him to a stop. “Hold up.” Kenric settled back into his seat as Arran reached for his phone. Gabrielle’s name lit the screen, and his heart rate kicked up a notch at the sight. He swiped the red answer bar and placed the device to his ear. “Hey there. What’s going on?”

“I know this is probably a really bad time…”

“That’s okay,” Arran said. “What’s going on?”

Kenric turned in his seat, the glare from the male saying Arran had his full attention.

“Tell Kenric I tried to stop her.” The pleading tone in Gabrielle’s voice coiled itself like a noose around his heart.

“Who? Emily?”

“Yes.”

“Stop her from what, love?”

“Give me the phone,” Kenric demanded and shoved his hand in front of Arran’s face.

“Hang on, Gabrielle. Kenric wants to talk to you.” Arran passed his cell to the other male.

“Talk to me, Elle,” Kenric began. “What’s wrong with Emily?”

Arran watched as the expression on Kenric’s face morphed from concern to rage.

“Dammit!” Kenric shouted and slammed his fist onto the car’s dashboard.

Oh, fuck.
Arran groaned inside his head. This was not good.

“I know it’s not your fault,” Kenric added. “I don’t blame you.” He glanced at Arran before leaning back onto the headrest. “Please do me the courtesy of informing Markus that I will kill him when I get back.” He paused and Arran heard Gabrielle’s soft voice responding and then, “Thanks for letting me know,” Kenric said, and passed the phone back, his gaze focused elsewhere.

“You okay?” Arran shifted in his seat, more and more anxious to grab Guerin and get his ass back stateside.

“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s Emily I’m worried about.” Dread settled like an anchor in Arran’s gut. Both of their mates somehow knew what was going on in Germany. And Arran realized how they’d found out. Markus. He turned his gaze toward the Enclave’s master. The other male’s expression seemed about one match strike away from exploding all over someone’s ass.

Arran replaced the cell to his ear. “Hey, Gabrielle. I’m here.”

“I’m sure you have to get off the phone. Kenric will fill you in.”

“Okay.” Arran studied the fist he still had wrapped around the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

“I love you.” Her soft words drifted through the cell and brushed his heart, bringing the edge of a smile to his lips despite the gloom in the air. “Come home to me soon. You hear me?”

“You can count on it. I love you, too.” Arran tapped end call and slipped the phone back into his jacket. Arran’s gut twisted. What a fucked-up week. When did the world decide that he got to be the messenger of bad news to one of the deadliest vampires on the planet?

“So what happened?” he asked his companion.

“That son of a bitch Markus decided he was ready to spill his guts. He sent word through Michael for Elle and Emily to pay him a visit. He had something important to tell them.” Kenric grabbed the door handle and pulled. “I need some air.”

Arran exited the vehicle too, moved to the front, and leaned against the hood next to Kenric. “How is Emily?”

“She’s on her way here.”

Arran cringed. This was not going to go down well.

“Shit!” Kenric swung away from the car, tossed his head back, and growled, then pivoted on his heels and faced Arran. “Elle said Emily wouldn’t talk to her after she’d learned why we were here. The last thing she said to Elle was for her to tell us she was on her way.” He shook his head. “What does she think she’s doing?” Kenric swung his arms up as if he were surrendering to an invisible foe.

“Coming for her mate,” Arran said.

The other male’s gaze narrowed on him, and he stilled.

“She needs you, and you need her right now, whether you realize it or not.” Arran couldn’t believe what was coming out of his own mouth. Before Gabrielle, he’d never been the sentimental type, but this mating stuff had apparently opened another side to him. Opened his heart. Kenric shook his head again and sighed.

“So let’s get in there”—Arran motioned toward the end of the street with his chin—“grab Guerin, and find out what we’re dealing with so your mate will be safe.”

Kenric nodded.

Both males moved down the street, their heels gliding over the cobblestone streets in silence. Shadowed predators on the hunt.

Blinds were drawn in the two visible windows of the small apartment, making it difficult to tell if anyone was home or awake. Hopefully Eve and Guerin were inside. The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, and with any luck, the timing would catch her still sleeping. But with Eve the odds were fifty-fifty if that would even be the case. There was no way of knowing the extent of her capabilities.

“If this is a studio apartment, we’ll be walking right into the center of her den and bedroom. There won’t be anywhere to hide.” Kenric glanced his way, then back to a door at the top of the steps. “For anyone.”

“I’m ready when you are.” Arran pulled a short blade from the sheath at his thigh. With a nod from Kenric, they made their way up the five steps to the stoop. Kenric held up three gloved fingers then counted them down, one by one to zero. He reared back, then raised a booted foot and slammed it into the wood. The door busted away from the frame with a loud
crack
and banged into the wall behind it. The Enclave’s master was anything but subtle.

Both charged into the room—Kenric going right, Arran left.

Movement from a bed positioned across from the door snagged Arran’s attention. Guerin shot forward, then onto his feet as a blur of color bolted from the mattress and across the room.

“Damn! Kenric!” His gaze swung to him. “Arran.” Guerin dragged both hands through his hair and over his head. “You could have knocked, you know?” He stood there gawking at them in nothing more than a pair of sweats as if they were his parents and had interrupted his date.

“What the fuck, man?” Arran shook his head.

“Kenric?” A female voice called out from the other side of the room, catching Arran’s attention. But based on the intense stare Kenric already had pinned on her, he’d tracked her from the moment they’d entered the apartment. “Kenric St. James?” A beautiful woman with long dark hair wearing a pair of loose cotton pants and white snug-fitting T-shirt eased forward. “Master of the infamous Enclave?” Kenric gave her an almost indiscernible nod, but it was there nonetheless.

And then he spoke, one name barely uttered above a whisper. “Eve?”

“What? You don’t recognize the daughter you left behind?” The question wafted across the room like a pebble tossed into calm waters. But in the next second, a storm surge raged on its heels.

Eve cried out and went airborne.
What the hell?
Her arm reared up and back, sending a flash of light glimmering off a blade.

Kenric!
Reflex launched Arran into action. He lunged toward the other male, his only thought to protect the Enclave’s master. But before his boots landed, Eve stood between them.

“Eve!” Guerin called out and was already over the bed and beside Arran.

Kenric swung his arm wide, deflecting her first strike from his chest. “Don’t touch her!” he bellowed as the blade jabbed through his leather jacket. Arran watched as Eve carved a path down Kenric’s biceps, ripping the material and his flesh wide. The metallic scent of blood filled the air. Eve yanked the knife free and froze, her chest heaving. Each labored breath she released felt like a second ticking off the timer of a bomb ready to ignite.

But Kenric stood there. Silent. Motionless.

What the hell was he doing?

“Come on!” she cried, breaking the eerie stillness. “Fight me.”

“I’m not going to fight you.”

“Yes, you are,” she growled and tossed her hair back. “You’ve wanted me and my mother out of your life for centuries.” Eve scoffed. “Well, one down and only one more to go.” She pulled the blade a little higher, a crimson stain still glistening on the tip. “But I’m not going down quite that easily.”

“Dear God…Eve!” Guerin surged forward, but Arran turned and blocked him. “Get out of my way,” he growled into Arran’s face, shoving against the hold he had on Guerin’s upper body. Guerin glanced over his shoulder toward the pair. “Don’t do this, Eve,” he added. His voice descended to more of a plea.

“I have no intention of fighting you. Tonight or ever.” Kenric’s tone was calm, unwavering, picking up where they’d left off. “You’re hurt. Confused. I barely know you. Why would I want you dead?”

“Damn you!” Eve cried out right before a loud crash ricocheted off the walls. Arran spun. Eve had Kenric’s back against the wall, her blade at his throat. Both men surged forward, prepared to peel her off their commander.

“Hands off,” Kenric barked the command, aiming it directly toward Arran and Guerin.

“That’s right,” Eve hissed, pressing the edge of the blade deep enough beneath Kenric’s chin that a thin trickle of blood seeped over his Adam’s apple. “You don’t know me. How could you?” She shrugged. “You were so disgusted with the mere thought of my conception you didn’t stick around long enough.”

“You only know what you’ve been told.” Kenric gave a slight shake of his head, but not enough to dig the knife in any deeper. “Oh my God. You look so much like her. Marguerite’s hair—the shape of your face. But you have my eyes and mouth.” Eve stood frozen as if his assessment fascinated her. “You’re really my daughter.” He shook his head once more. “I don’t need a DNA test. I can’t explain why. I just feel it. It’s true.” His throat worked. “Christ. I didn’t know about you. ”

“You son of a bitch!” Eve rammed him against the wall once more, sending the seascape crashing to the floor. She cried out, then flailed at his body, ripping the leather and cotton of his clothing away. “Fight back, you bastard!”

The commander stood frozen—his expression one of compassion, not anger.
Damn.
Arran could barely stand there and watch while the commander allowed her to vent her contempt and frustration on his body. Over and over, she slashed at his torso until nothing remained but flesh that looked like a wild animal had gone apeshit on his ass. But to Arran’s surprise, none of the wounds Eve delivered were even close to life-threatening.
Shit.
Maybe a molecule of Kenric’s genes had survived after all, and she wasn’t completely affected—or infected—by Marguerite.

As if the battery fueling her rage were running out of juice, Eve’s movements slowed. For the first time, Kenric lifted his arms and gently circled his fingers around her wrists, bringing them to his blood-splattered chest.

“Eve,” he whispered.

“Shut up.” She shook her head, her dark hair whipping back and forth like a black fan deflecting his words. “I don’t want to hear your explanations or your damned excuses.” Eve swung her head back and her arms free. “It’s nothing but bull—”

She stood there, deflated, as if something had sucked the air from her lungs. Arran followed the direction of her stare. Her focus had zeroed in on the Enclave symbol tattooed on Kenric’s arm.

“Eve…please,” Guerin called out, but Eve didn’t budge. “Let me talk to you. Let me explain.” Pain creased the warrior’s face, flattening his mouth into a grim line. Guerin didn’t look like a man in agony from a stay in hell. He resembled one whose visit was about to begin.

Chapter Fourteen

Oh my God…
It’s exactly the same. Eve couldn’t pull her gaze away from the scarlet-stained black ink. Whatever she was about to say had lodged in the back of her throat. The image before her eyes had shut down her ability to speak. Her heart rate sputtered, then kicked back into gear as if it had hit a speed bump. A wave of nausea swelled in her gut. She swallowed back the bitter taste of bile.

She’d been so stupid.

From the moment she’d watched Guerin swagger across her club’s floor, she’d been an idiot. The matching ink could mean only one thing: not only did Guerin know her father, but
he
was one of his damn Enclave.

Too much for one night.

Betrayed at every turn. She sucked in a deep breath, pushing past the knot of pain in her chest threatening to take her down.
Oh, hell no
. Her so-called father may have defeated her mother, but he wouldn’t see her crumble. She wouldn’t be erased from his world that easily. Eve reversed her step, putting the other two vampires plus Kenric in her sight. She’d been so blinded by the surprise meet-and-greet with dear old dad, Eve couldn’t believe she’d turned her back on the other male.

“You lying bastard.” The insult clawed its way out of her throat, the rage-filled words directed toward the male she’d allowed inside her heart, not the one who shared her DNA. She was beyond infuriated.

“Eve, I…” Guerin took a step toward her.

“Stop!” Clutching the hilt of her dagger, she reared her arm back. “Don’t you come near me, or I swear it’ll be the last move you make.”

“Please.” Guerin lifted his palms as if in surrender. “Give me a chance to—”

Eve laughed. “To what? Explain?” She shook her head. “Oh, yeah. I’m hanging around for that story, so you can tell me this wasn’t all a setup to take out the last ugly reminder for your boss.” An odd mix of what looked like hurt and regret flashed in Guerin’s eyes. But what would she know about those emotions? She’d made sure to never get close enough to anyone to recognize them. “Did you draw the lucky straw, Guerin, and get to be the one to bait the trap? Must be pretty damn proud of yourself. You even got to get your rocks off more than once before your team arrived to try to finish me off.”