Of Love and Darkness (13 page)

Chapter 11

They aren’t killing me. Why aren’t they killing me
?

These thoughts drifted through Gavin’s head as he floated in and out of consciousness. He was in the middle of the woods, his wrists tied with a thick length of rope that had been thrown over the lowest branch of a sturdy oak tree. One Rakshasa held the other end of the rope, keeping Gavin’s arms suspended above his head, while the rest took turns beating the hell out of him.

But they weren’t planning to kill him. That much was apparent to the one who had once ruled a Rakshasa pack. When he had been in charge, they didn’t mess around with torturing shifters or humans or Chala. They killed them outright. There had only been one time, when they’d homed in on a Chala, some three hundred years ago. His pack mates wanted to know if the Chala was really as great as the Light Ones believed. Considering the way those guys acted about the rare females, they figured she must be pretty damned amazing in bed.

So Gavin let them have their way with her, before they killed her. Afterward, they claimed she wasn’t any better than the waitress from the last bar they’d hung out at. Gavin now knew they had been lying about the experience. Either that, or Sydney was an anomaly. The Fates knew, she was fan-fricking-tastic in bed.

Speaking of Fates, he hoped to hell William was taking care of her. And Brandon. Hopefully, William would get over whatever issues he had with Brandon. It was obvious Gavin wasn’t getting out of this experience alive. They hadn’t killed him yet, but they were keeping him alive for a reason. And once that reason was realized, he would be dead. He knew it like he knew what it felt like to have Sydney’s arms wrapped around his waist, or her inner muscles wrapped around his cock.

At least he’d had the pleasure of that experience, almost nightly, for the past month. He could honestly say he had realized all of his dreams before dying. Well, almost. He hadn’t done two things. He hadn’t told Sydney he loved her—probably because he hadn’t even realized it until this moment. And he didn’t know if she was pregnant yet, from their one moment of unprotected sex. She hadn’t had her period since then, so there was still hope. He decided to cling to that hope. He had nothing else to cling to.

He must have passed out again, because suddenly, someone was slapping his face.

“You didn’t kill him, did you? We’re supposed to keep him alive, remember? You’d better not have—oh, there he is. Rise and shine, asshole. Welcome to your worst nightmare.” The face of an ugly shifter swam before Gavin’s blurred vision. He blinked blood out of his eyes and tried to focus.

“Definitely a nightmare,” Gavin muttered.

It took the shifter a moment to realize Gavin had just insulted him. He slugged Gavin in the gut before someone else jerked his arm away.

“Knock it off. Alive, remember? Come on, I think he’s coming.”

“Who?” Gavin asked.

“None of your fucking business, asshole.” Another punch to the kidneys.

“Fates,” Gavin gasped as he coughed up blood.

Suddenly, William stood before him, looking as bewildered as Gavin felt.

“You summoned me?” William asked, assessing the situation.

“Accidentally,” Gavin muttered through swollen and cracked lips. “Untie me. Hurry. Their boss is coming.”

“Their boss?”

“Too late,” Gavin muttered, as two shifters grabbed William from behind, twisting his arms around his back and wrenching his shoulders.

“Ow,” he complained.

“What the hell is this?” the ugly shifter asked.

“A Fate. Kill it. It’ll disappear that way,” another shifter replied.

“I can’t hit no guy in a skirt.”

“Take the goddamned skirt off then.”

The ugly shifter reached over and grabbed William’s skirt. He yanked and the cloth ripped at the seams, revealing a shiny red thong.

“Jesus, William,” Gavin muttered.

William shrugged helplessly. “You never know when you’re going to get lucky.”

“You’re banging Quentin nightly. You know damn well when you’re going to get lucky.”

William actually turned red before someone delivered him a punch to the face that knocked him out cold.

“He didn’t disappear.”

“That’s cuz you didn’t kill him. Leave him. He’s unconscious. He won’t bother us. Come on. He’s here. It’s time to collect.”

Gavin was left alone with an unconscious William as the rest of the pack of Rakshasa moved to the other side of a moonlit clearing, presumably to wait for their boss.

The entire thing was a setup, Gavin realized now. It wasn’t Sydney they wanted, it was him, just as he expected. Except somehow, they’d caught Gavin unaware, and the only way that was possible was if they had inside help. Someone on his team was a traitor. Someone on his team had sold Sydney out. If he got out of this alive, he would kill the bastard with his bare hands, very, very slowly. But since it didn’t look as if he would get out of this alive, his next best hope was to wake William and warn him, so he could get Sydney out of there, fast.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gavin reached as far as the rope around his wrists would let him, trying to toe William in the leg.

“Don’t waste your time.”

Gavin froze when he heard the voice. He knew that voice. He recognized that voice. Slowly, as he fervently hoped he was wrong, Gavin twisted his head around.

And found himself staring into the face of the man he had intended to mate with Sydney.

“Fuck me,” Gavin muttered, staring at Brandon, who walked through the gang of shifters as if he owned them. As if he was their boss. As if he was the one who had set this entire scene up in the first place.

“No thanks,” Brandon said as he nudged William’s arm with his foot. William groaned and rolled over, face first, into the snow. “You look like hell, Gavin.”

“Yeah, getting the shit beat out of you while you’re hanging helpless from a tree tends to do that to a guy. Why don’t you let me down? Give me a fair shake.”

“No fucking way. I’m not stupid. Obviously. I tricked you, didn’t I?” Brandon tugged a cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a button. He watched Gavin while he spoke into the phone.

“It’s me. A quarter of the money we discussed, transferred to the account number I gave you before I left.” He glanced over his shoulder at the wall of Rakshasa. “I’ll transfer the rest myself, when I’m back, safe and sound.” He disconnected the call.

“That wasn’t the deal, asshole,” the ugly shifter growled.

Brandon shrugged, unruffled. “Again, I’m not stupid. If I’d transferred the entire amount, you’d kill me as soon I kill him. This way, you get just enough to know I have the money, and I make it home alive. You’ll get the rest, like I told my admin, when I’m home, safe and sound.”

Several shifters growled, but in the end, there was nothing they could do about it, unless they wanted to cut their losses and walk away now. Which, obviously, they did not. Brandon turned back to Gavin, leaned close and sniffed.

“You smell like Chala,” he said and flinched when Gavin jerked at the ropes holding his wrists. Brandon growled and stepped away, clearly annoyed at himself for flinching.

The cluster of Rakshasa pressed closer and Brandon barked at them to stay back. “You’ll get your money. But this kill is mine. All mine.”

The group fidgeted restlessly, clearly not ready to leave until the kill was complete.

“Go,” Brandon said in an authoritative voice, and finally, the ugly one, who was obviously some sort of leader, turned and ran, shifting into the form of an animal as he did so. The rest of the shifters followed suit, until Brandon was alone in the woods with Gavin and the unconscious Fate.

“I’m sort of pissed off that I’m not going to enjoy this as much as I would like,” Brandon commented as he paced a circle around Gavin. Gavin followed him with his gaze, as best as he could. “I’ve sort of come to grudgingly respect you, you know. And I’m really annoyed that you’re in love with the damn Chala.”

“Then why kill me? And why this way? You’ve had plenty of opportunity, out at Hilde’s place. Why go through all this?”

“Because this way, your death is blamed on the Rakshasa, and I can maintain my position within your pack. Or, more likely, I’ll even take over the pack, since you’ll be gone. No one else is quite up to snuff.”

“Sydney could handle it.”

“She’s a female. And a Chala. She’ll be too busy birthing future Chala and Light Ones to have time to run things.”

Okay, it was official. He sucked at choosing a mate for Sydney.

“What the hell did I ever do to you? I never met you until just a few weeks ago.”

“No, you’ve never met me before. But you’ve met my mother. Yvonne Haines. Ring any bells?”

“No. Did I fuck her? There’ve been so many, I’m afraid I’ve lost count over the years.”

Brandon punched him. Gavin wheezed and spit out another wad of blood.

“Well, you’re certainly making this easier now.”

“So I did fuck her. Huh. I don’t even remember if she was good.”

Brandon bared his teeth and growled. “No, you didn’t fuck her, you bastard. You killed her. She was a Chala. And you killed her, you sick, pitiful excuse for a shifter.” He punched Gavin again.

Gavin gasped as the air left his lungs. He struggled to suck in enough oxygen to breathe. He was pretty sure he was now in possession of a few cracked ribs. He wondered if one of them hadn’t punctured a lung.

“Aw, Christ, Brandon. I killed a lot of Chala over the years. But I haven’t killed one in two hundred years. Are you telling me you’ve honestly held a grudge this long?”

“Yes,” Brandon snapped. “She was my mother!”

Gavin let his head hang on his chest. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I was a bastard. Hell, I still am. But I don’t kill Chala anymore. I save them. I was cursed two hundred years ago. Cursed to remember everything I did, and to protect the very beings I used to try to destroy. Every single day I live with that guilt and try to make amends for it. Every single day. And despite that, I understand how you feel. And you have every right to feel that way.” His body shuddered as he tried to take a breath.

“But listen to me, Brandon. Those Rakshasa are right now on their way to Hilde’s house, to kill all of your friends. And as soon as they figure out what she is, they’ll kill Sydney too. You can’t let that happen. She’s the last one left, Brandon. If you don’t save her, your entire species will be wiped out by the very shifters you just paid to set me up here.”

Brandon hesitated.

Gavin could tell he was getting through to the shifter.

“Leave me strung up here, if you have to. You can come back to kill me. I’m not going anywhere. But go, damn it. Go save your friends. Go save Sydney!”

“He doesn’t have to.”

Like a vision, Sydney stepped out of the darkness and walked steadily toward Gavin, her gaze bright and determined, and never leaving his face. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. He had never felt so loved, or felt such an overwhelming feeling of love.

“How the hell did you find us?” he snapped, his fear for her safety overriding his ability to be nice and courteous. And appreciative of her presence.

“It’s you, Gavin,” she said serenely. “You’re my mate. And I found you. Like—like a beacon or something.” She frowned as if she didn’t really understand it herself. She’d had a propensity for getting lost for practically her entire life, and now, suddenly she was able to find him in the middle of the woods on a moonless night.

Gavin stubbornly shook his head. “Sydney, run! Get the hell out of here, now!”

She ignored him, but Brandon didn’t. His gaze darted from Gavin to Sydney to William’s prone figure and then he turned and bolted into the darkness.

“Sydney.” Gavin’s voice was hardly more than a ragged breath, as he stared hungrily at her face. She didn’t run like he’d told her to, but Brandon had, and he was the most immediate threat at the moment.

“Hello, mate,” she said and slashed her hand through the air. The rope holding his wrists snapped and he collapsed into Sydney’s outstretched arms. She fell to the ground. He was much too large for her, but at least she mostly cushioned his fall. Plus, her touch immediately began to heal him.

He buried his face in her chest and wrapped his bloodied arms around her and clung to her as if he was a drowning man and she was a life preserver. Which, he supposed, was true. Then he suddenly shoved her away.

“We have to go,” he said brusquely.

So much for romantic reunions
, Sydney thought. But Gavin had warned her he wasn’t the romantic sort.

“The pack, they’re in danger. We have to warn them. Did you bring your cell phone?”

Sydney shook her head. “It shattered when I fell, back at the bar. You don’t have one?”

Gavin shook his head. “They took it.”

Sydney climbed to her feet and grabbed Gavin’s elbow, trying to help him stand. “Okay, well we need to get back and warn everyone.”

“Fuck me, that hurts,” Gavin complained.

William stirred. Sydney’s eyes grew wide as she stared at his body, lying on the ground. “Where is his skirt?”

Gavin pulled off his jacket and tossed it at the Fate, hiding the shiny red thong from view. She turned back to her mate and held out her hand.

“Stand up. If we hold hands while we walk, hopefully you’ll heal along the way. Otherwise, you won’t be much help.”

Gavin grabbed the front of her coat and used it to haul himself to his feet. “I’ll be damned if I let you battle them alone.”

William moaned.

“Get up,” Gavin said, and he kicked the Fate. “We have to get out of here. Hurry up.”

“Gavin!” Sydney admonished.

“What? He can’t die.”