Pleasure Unbound (27 page)

“Silence, Victoria,” Komir snapped, and then gestured to one of the two burly enforcers flanking Eidolon. “Escort him to the platform.”

The platform that was stained with the blood of countless others, that would soon be stained with Eidolon’s. Again.

“Hold,” he said. “One of yours was recently taken by Ghouls. What do you know of them?”

Komir’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

“Because the victims end up in my hospital, dead or dying.”

Victoria sighed. “More vampires are killed by The Aegis every day than are taken by the black market operators in an entire year. We don’t care. Neither should you.”

Idiots. Shrugging off his robe, he strode naked to the platform without the aid of the enforcer thugs. He cleared his mind as he mounted the stone steps and stood beneath the reinforced wooden structure from which chains dangled. Numbing himself out was the only way to deal with this and, probably, the only way to survive.

A massive warrior vamp, whose name Eidolon didn’t know, stood. “Your brother Wraith has taken more than his limit of humans this month. Are you here to receive his punishment?”

“I am.” Though he’d really like to know how they always knew when Wraith killed a human. Thousands of vampires existed in the world, and they couldn’t all be policed. Yet the Council seemed to keep a running tab of Wraith’s kills. Granted, Wraith took pleasure in flaunting them, but still . . .

“The incubus is ready.” Komir’s lip peeled back to reveal fangs as sharp as a 33 gauge hypodermic needle. “Let it begin.”

The twenty-four hours were up. More than up, and since Eidolon hadn’t called, Gem was taking matters into her own hands. She’d have done it sooner, despite her promise to the other doctor, but she’d been stuck at the hospital on a sixteen-hour shift.

Shift over, and she was going to confront Tayla, and she was going to do it now.

She took the stairs to Tayla’s apartment two at a time. As she topped the second-floor landing, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She crept to the apartment door, listened.

No noise from inside.

Still feeling the tingle of goosebumps crawling over her skin, she turned the doorknob. Unlocked. The door creaked open.

The rich, fresh odors of blood and death swirled around her, soaking into the walls and becoming another layer of scent in the ancient apartment, which had been ransacked. She entered, noted the boxes in the corner. No, not ransacked. Packed. Someone was moving Tayla’s things out.

A bloodstain marred the floor near the godawful orange couch. Humans wouldn’t see the soiled area, but it was there. Recent. It had been cleaned up within the last hour.

Where was Tayla?

Voices in the stairwell jammed her heart up into her esophagus.

“Shit, man, did you leave the door open?”

“Don’t think so.”

The unmistakable sound of metal blades clearing weapons’ housings echoed in the hallway.

Slayers.

A chill went through her, a bone-deep cold she hadn’t felt since she was a child and her parents had shared Aegis horror stories. The nightmares had plagued her into her teens, had come roaring back with a vengeance when she learned her own sister had become a slayer. A butcher.

A monster.

Gem shot to the bedroom, which was empty. No furnishings, no boxes.

Nowhere to hide.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here,” a deep voice said.

“Who would steal anything from this shithole?”

Laughter belonging to several people filled the tiny apartment.

“Let’s just get this done. We have demons to string up.”

A wail of terror welled in Gem’s throat. There were five of them, at least. She might feel comfortable going up against one, maybe two. But five trained killers? She was outnumbered, outgunned, and she definitely didn’t have a death wish.

Quiet as a were-rat, she slipped into the closet. The restraining tats circling her neck, wrists, and ankles burned, making themselves known. Inside, her inner demon was clawing to get out.

She prayed it didn’t get its wish.

Tayla put her time alone in Eidolon’s condo to good use. Mainly, she snooped, partly to learn more about him, and partly to keep from thinking about what had happened between them.

Because what had happened had shaken her to the core. She’d needed him. Wanted him. Had let her guard down and couldn’t get it to come back up. He’d exposed every single one of her vulnerabilities, and somehow, she had to find a way to mash them back into the place she’d been keeping them.

Shaking off the thoughts she’d been trying to avoid, she went back to snooping while Mickey followed her, chattering endlessly as he explored every nook and cranny.

Eidolon’s living room, decorated in masculine browns, greens, and leather, revealed nothing except that he had expensive tastes.

A search of the den turned up little more than what was on the surface—wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with medical titles and strangely bound texts, most of which she couldn’t read.

Her stomach growled before she made it to either of the bedrooms, so she detoured to the kitchen. The contents of the fridge were a surprise; not that she’d expected quarts of blood and Tupperware containers full of brains, but the fresh fruits and veggies, lunch meats, and soy milk didn’t match up to her expectations. Then again, mixed in with the ketchup, margarine, and jars of pickles were containers she didn’t recognize, marked in languages she didn’t know.

Probably the brains and blood.

She reached for a package of sliced ham, but a thumping noise drew her up short. She closed the fridge door, snagged a knife from the block on the counter, and slipped quietly into the hallway. Easing along the wall, she followed the sound of raspy breathing, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

Knife ready, she stepped into the den. Eidolon was on his hands and knees just outside the circle, every inch covered in blood, his head hanging so she couldn’t see his face.

“Oh, Jesus.” She crossed to him in three strides and sank to her knees in front of him. “Hellboy?”

A shudder wracked his body. She wanted to comfort him with a touch, but where? Deep slashes scored the skin of his back, his arms, his legs . . . even the soles of his feet had been laid open like overplumped hot dogs. Bone and muscle erupted from the shredded flesh, and blood dripped to the floor in a gentle patter of grotesque rain.

“I’m taking you to your hospital.” Unsure exactly how she was going to accomplish that, she pushed to her feet because she had to do something.

“No.” His voice was low, gurgling, as if he’d been flogged on the inside as well as the out. “Call . . . Shade.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she said, but when his only response was to shudder again, she ran to the foyer, where he’d left his cell phone on a shelf.

With trembling fingers, she cycled through his address book to Shade’s cell number, and dialed.

“What’s up, E?” Shade’s voice, deeper than Eidolon’s, echoed in her ear.

“It’s Tayla. Look—”

“Where is he? What did you do to him?”

She lowered her voice and drifted farther away from the den. “I didn’t do anything to him. But he’s hurt. We’re in his condo . . . he went through that portal, and when he got back . . .” He’d looked like he went through a meat grinder. “He’s messed up. Bad.”

“Shit.” The sound of something breaking on the other end of the line was loud enough to make her jerk the phone away from her ear. “Turn up the heat as far as it’ll go. He’s probably in shock, but you can’t put a blanket on him because it’ll wick the blood out of his wounds. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hung up, leaving her with the distinct impression that this had happened before. Sickened by the thought, she located the thermostat, set it for eighty-five degrees. As the hum of the heater filled the apartment, she hurried back to the den.

“Hey,” she murmured, as she sank down next to where he shivered on his hands and knees, in the same position as when she’d left him. He said nothing, but the straining muscles in his jaw told her why; he’d clenched his teeth so hard he couldn’t speak.

Nausea rolled through her. Who had done this to him? Other Seminus demons? Were they not allowed to kill humans? The questions ate at her, but until Shade arrived, the only thing she could do was to try to take Eidolon’s mind off his pain.

“I like your apartment,” she said. “I snooped. Hope that’s okay. Didn’t find anything weird.”

She let a teasing note filter into her voice, because as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t surprised at what she’d found in his apartment. Normalcy.

“So, uh . . . when do you think we’ll know what kind of demon my dear old dad was? I hope it isn’t something really horrible.” She almost laughed, because just a few days ago she’d made no distinction between really horrible and not as horrible when it came to demons.

Eidolon’s breathing grew more regular and less labored, so she kept talking, inane chatter about stupid things like her bad grades in school, her favorite food—oranges—her desire to learn to ice skate. By the time Shade stalked into the room, Eidolon knew more about her than anyone in The Aegis ever had, though she had no way of knowing if he actually heard what she’d said.

Shade didn’t spare her a glance as he dropped his medical kit and knelt at Eidolon’s head. “Hey, man, I’m here. You’re going to be all right.”

As though his brother’s presence had allowed him to feel again, Eidolon moaned, and the pain buried deep in the sound made her heart bleed.

“What did they do to him?” she whispered, and Shade’s flat eyes focused on her as if he had just realized she was in the room.

“Looks like a combination of fists and a cat o’ nines.” He slid his gaze over Eidolon’s frame and added, “They also used teeth.”

Ice formed in her chest. This was her fault. He’d been defending her when the Guardians attacked her in her apartment. He’d killed to protect her. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“Let it go, slayer.” Shade turned back to Eidolon, his expression softening as he gently took his brother’s face in his palms and lifted his head. “Those bastards really worked you over this time, didn’t they?”

“This time? He said he’d never killed a human before.”

“He hasn’t.”

She wanted to ask what he’d done to deserve the other beatings, but the cold rage in Shade’s expression didn’t invite questions.

Shade inspected his brother’s face, his touch tender and light. When he finished, he lowered Eidolon’s head and spoke in a soothing, low tone as he ran his hands over his ribs, belly, and extremities. Eidolon’s teeth chattered, but he didn’t make any other sounds even though the exam must have been excruciating.

“Slayer, open my jump bag and hand me the syringe in the right inside pocket.”

Glad to have something to do, she fetched the item and handed it to Shade, who injected the contents into Eidolon’s shoulder with professional efficiency. The guy might have the fun-loving personality of a pissed-off pit bull, but he exuded confidence in his medical abilities, and, she couldn’t help but notice, a raw masculinity that was every bit as powerful as Eidolon’s.

“Was that for the pain?”

“Antibiotic.” Shade pulled some tubing and a bag of blood from his kit. “Painkillers are against the rules.”

“Rules? There are rules for being beaten nearly to death?”

Instead of answering, he started an IV with the blood, and hung the bag from the door handle. When he finished, he laid his large palm on the back of Eidolon’s neck, one of the few uninjured areas, caressing in slow circles.

“Bro, your pulse is off the charts, and your resps are all over the place. I need you to relax.” Shade closed his eyes, and for a moment it seemed as though Eidolon’s tension had slipped away, but then he convulsed, and his breathing grew labored again.

Without thinking, Tayla covered his hand with hers. Shade’s eyes flew open, and at his dark stare, she jerked her hand away, afraid she was hurting rather than helping.

“No,” he said, grasping her wrist. A low growl erupted from deep in Eidolon’s chest, and Shade’s eyes narrowed. “Well, now, that’s interesting,” he murmured, and very carefully placed her hand over Eidolon’s again. “Your touch seems to calm him. Leave it there until I put him to sleep.”

Gently, she stroked his fingers, the ones that had saved her life and brought her pleasure, and a few minutes later, Shade nodded.

“He’s out. He should stay that way for a couple of hours.”

“He’ll be all right though, yes?”

“Yeah. We’re not easy to kill. Just FYI, Aegi.” He gathered his gear and gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen, where he washed up. “If Wraith calls, don’t speak a word of this. If he comes over, don’t let him in.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated for so long she didn’t think he’d answer, but as he dried his hands, he said, “Eidolon was punished, not for something he did, but for something Wraith did. Wraith can never know.”

“So this wasn’t about what happened at my apartment? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not going to hurt Eidolon, or I would have done it instead of calling you, right?”

Shade bared his teeth at her. “If you hadn’t, I’d have—”

“I did,” she snapped. “So tell me why he’s nearly been killed for something your brother did.”

“I. Don’t. Like. You.”

“Feeling’s mutual, buddy. So spill already.”

Shade blew out a harsh breath, as if that would cool him off. At least it got him talking. “Wraith is part vampire. But he’s also a Seminus demon. Vampire and Seminus law don’t always mesh, and he falls into a crack between the two. Neither Council can agree on how he should be punished for various transgressions. But they both want someone to pay.”

“Why Eidolon?”

“Because Wraith wouldn’t survive it.”

This was seriously twisted, and it fired up all her protective instincts, which she hadn’t known she even possessed.

“I don’t understand why Wraith would allow this to happen. Why doesn’t he stop doing whatever it is that gets Eidolon beaten?”

“Wraith thinks he’s untouchable . . . he has no idea Eidolon is suffering. If he did, if he knew what E has gone through . . .” Shade shook his head. “We’d lose him. He can never know.”