Prince of Shadows (18 page)

She barely heard the whisper of sound above his words, just the click and scrape of a blade sliding out of its holster. She drew in a breath to scream even as she struck her arms out in a cross defensive motion. One arm met air, but the other caught his wrist, and the knife meant for her throat skidded by her ear, a near miss. Unfortunately she hadn't seen the second attack. Before she could scream or run or do anything else, something hit her in her right side. Pain ripped through her, her body crumpling onto the roof as she began to convulse. Through the haze of agony she heard her captor laugh, his voice rolling through the night in multiple layers.

Valin lay as still as he could beneath a sleeping Gabby, staring at the crooked and chipped tiles of her ceiling as he siphoned through the volatile emotions riding him like a ghost horse. He hadn't bargained for this, though damn if he could figure out what this was.

After rejecting his own declaration of love, her silent plea for him to love her had torn his heart. Not only did he sense she didn't believe herself worthy of that love, but the overshadowing fear of being hurt had left him wanting to lash out at someone. But who was there to do so? Her mother was long buried, her maker Christos dead too. And though a mere glimpse at some of her memories showed dozens more worthy of his wrath, to seek them out for the sole purpose of revenge would teach Gabby nothing of moving on and letting go of the past.

So he'd concentrated on loving her. And as the day had worn on, turning to night, she'd opened to him. Her body, her mind, her soul. The uninhibited intensity with which she'd showed him her unspoken love had outdone him.

He should be happy. If nothing else he should be purring with satisfaction by the number of times she'd come undone in his arms. But he wasn't. Something was off. Something that had his heart palpitating and his nerves riding on edge. What was it?

He'd thought at first it was simply a sense of incompleteness. He hadn't asked her to complete the mate bond with him yet, but that would only account for a sense of nervousness…not this soul-consuming sense of dread. It was like his soul knew something his mind was unable or unwilling to grasp.

He glanced down at Gabby's hair spread out over his torso, her head resting on his chest, and her hand tucked in tight to his armpit. She looked tired. And though he supposed he should expect that after a long night and subsequent day of lovemaking, they had certainly taken more than their share of naps between their marathons of sex.

And that was it, the long night then subsequent day of lovemaking had done nothing to ease the lines around her eyes, and worse, despite the number of times she drank from his vein, there was no change on the darkness that stained her soul.

You're going to lose her, just like you lost Angeline.

He swallowed, closing his eyes against the brutal barrage of images. Another time, another bed, only it was Angeline lying beside him, his hand tucked possessively at the base of her distended belly. They'd woken together, laughing at Peanut's antics in the womb and enjoyed a few moments of happy bliss before he'd risen to start his day. It had been the last morning they'd had together.

He hadn't been able to save Angeline then and now here lay Gabby, still aging, dying with each breath she took secure in his arms. His veins iced over, his breathing becoming ragged with thoughts of the long cold years of darkness that had followed Angeline's death. He couldn't relive that. He would not, could not fail again. Yet here he was, holding Gabby, and he couldn't…Shit.
Shit!
He couldn't breathe for the tightness in his chest. There was only one way to escape such pain. One place. There he could regroup. There he could forget. If only for a little while.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, shifting into the soothing darkness of the shade.

***

Gabby lay motionless upon the cot, the only movement that of her hand fisting in the cooling sheets beneath them. Valin was gone. She'd woken, alarmed, at the racing of his heart beneath her ear, then before she could react she'd been blindsided by his turbulent thoughts of his lost mate. Angeline. Oh, how she wished she could have shut his memories of that woman off, but she couldn't, not after feeding from him so many times. Five to be exact, if you counted the little taste on the rooftop the other night. The last had been after he carried her back to her room and proceeded to teach her that sex—at least with him—could be the best, most perfect, and yes, erotic, thing in the world. To let go like that, acting purely on instinct and need…His blood had tasted so good, and she'd reveled in the bloom of connection between them that came with each drop that hit her tongue. She knew she couldn't do it again anytime soon. Accelerated healing or not, even his Paladin blood couldn't sustain her indefinitely. Not without weakening himself. And given the type of constant danger he threw himself at, that was not something she was willing to risk.

Of course, looked like that wasn't really going to be an issue. Valin had finally wised up and been the first to run away. Why wouldn't he after having slept with one of the monsters that killed his mate? The thrall of her succubus heritage had finally worn off and Valin had woken, the repetitive thought in his mind of Angeline, his unborn child, and how he'd failed to save them from Christos and his bloodthirsty vampires.

Because of her. Because her mother had been a power hungry bitch and Christos had believed her conception to be the key to some prophecy.

But all she could claim was being the key to pain.

She'd lain on Valin's chest, commanding her body to be still even as her ribs tightened, crushing her heart. She'd forced herself to keep breathing, to pretend she wasn't awake.
Don't say anything; it will be easier on him if you don't make him confront the face of his shame.
Thankfully she hadn't had to pretend long.

Valin was gone, and in his place was an empty hole in her heart to match the still-cooling spot on her bed.

Are
you
really
going
to
lay
here
and
weep? Last I knew there were still vampires to stake and merkers to exsanguinate.

Heaving herself out of the cot, she took a few minutes for a hasty freshening before pulling on her leather pants, tank top, and her favorite set of throwing knives. If her eyes drifted to the carved blade of the knife Valin had yet to remove from her room, she didn't let them linger. Tonight she'd track down Bennett and ask him to get it back to Valin, but today she would extend her patrol area; make sure there was no new activity after the merkers' attack the other night. First, though, she'd go and find Jacob. She needed to talk to him about what happened as she'd yet to get a full rundown on the exact details. On the way she'd stop in to see Aaron. She'd like the distraction if he was awake and if he wasn't, then she could at least talk to Shae about when he might be.

She opened the door, stepping out into the hall…and almost got run over by a soldier as he skidded to a halt just short of the door.

“Yes?” she asked when he continued to stand before her, his hand half-raised as if he'd been about ready to go a round with her door.

The soldier straightened. “Jacob needs you.”

Her heart performed a heavy pound behind her ribs. “Aaron?”

He shook his head. “Annie's missing.”

Crap. This is not what she needed today of all days.

She brushed by the soldier, heading down the hall away from the infirmary. She'd have to check in on Aaron later, after the current crisis was past. It was probably another case of Annie deciding she was sick of being “trapped,” but even so she couldn't deny the unease that was pooling in her gut.

Why would Annie risk going out? Especially after what happened to her uncle two nights ago?

Her unease did not lessen when she pushed through the door into Jacob's planning room to find him bent over his “war” map, his face pale.

Determined not to add to his anxiety by showing her own unease, she squared her shoulders and walked by the handful of soldiers in the room to stand beside Jacob. Already the map was all but obscured with the pushpins—devoid of the actual pins—that represented his soldiers' distribution through the surrounding area.

“How did she get by all the guards?” she asked. Jacob had virtually closed down the base after their unexpected houseguest's arrival a week ago, and tightened it even further after Aaron's attack. It was this that had been the basis for his agreeing to call off the constant shadow-guards around Annie, and Gabby had encouraged it, figuring a semblance of freedom within the walls might go a long way to easing the girl's sense of claustrophobia. Guess not.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We assume via the window at the top of the second floor stairs. We found a scrap of her T-shirt on the cafeteria roof below.”

Jacob hit the table, the pins jumped, many of them tumbling down on their sides. “How in the hell could she be so stupid? I thought Aaron's injuries had finally impressed upon her how dangerous it was out there. What could she possibly be thinking?”

“Obviously she's not,” Gabby mumbled, shaking her head in frustration. The cafeteria was the only part of the structure that wasn't two or more stories high. Granted, it was still pretty tall, with its soaring ceilings, but it was possible Annie had managed to lower herself over the edge then drop the rest of the way without getting hurt. But even Gabby found it hard to believe that Annie would be desperate—or stupid enough—to try it.

Someone cleared their throat. Gabby swiveled to see Bennett over near the door.

“I, um, may have something to do with that,” he said.

Silence descended in the room; everyone stared at the Paladin expectantly, but for once, the Paladin who went around touting communication didn't speak.

“Oh? And how is that?” she asked.

“First, can I ask, do you know how long she's been missing?”

Gabby looked at Jacob, who shook his head. “We're not sure. Though given the fact that the stairwell landing was covered in a good amount of water when people came and went from their shift change early this morning, we're assuming it was before the storms blew in last night.”

“So before midnight.” He closed his eyes, his hands fisting at his sides. “Bloody hell.”

“What do you know?” Jacob asked with icy calmness, sending off all kinds of uh-oh alarms in Gabby's brain. Jacob was his most dangerous when he got like this. First the calm, and then the storm. Literally.

“Jacob…” She laid a gentle hand on his arm, simultaneously sending a silent, cautionary jab at the Paladin, the mental equivalent of think-hard-before-you-open-your-trap. But the big, blond idiot must have missed the class where they taught projective thought nuances, that or he was too hung up on the whole one-must-be-truthful thing because with little more than a quick glance at her he opened his big mouth.

“I fear she was quite upset when I left her quarters last evening. She must have misinterpreted—” Bennett never got to finish, let alone blink before Jacob was on him.

Gabby leapt after him, cursing that she'd gone for the gentle touch rather than the iron grip. Jacob's hands were locked around Bennett's throat in a death grip. And as Bennett's face turned red, then purple, his eyes beginning to bulge, all Gabby could think was: Thank God Jacob hadn't used his gift.

She was, however, beginning to seriously worry about her ability to stop Jacob from killing Bennett through natural means. She also wondered why in the hell the Paladin did nothing to fight back. Unless…

Ah, crap. Stupid, idiotic fucknut. He did
not
have sex with Annie. For a moment, a brief moment, Gabby thought of switching the pressure of her hands from pulling on Jacob's to aiding the angry father, but no, that wouldn't be right. And it was possible this was just a misunderstanding. Surely there were a zillion other reasons why he'd be leaving Annie's rooms.

Yeah, right.

“Jacob! Let go,” she said firmly, tightening her hands around his wrists. Much tighter and she was going to break his damn arm. She was beginning to think she might have to when the door banged open and a breathless soldier ran in, his face pale and what looked like a Taser gripped in his hand.

“Commander!” He skidded to a halt, his eyes uncertain as he took in the scene.

Finally, finally, Jacob released his hold on Bennett's throat, the Paladin doubled up and gasping for air as Jacob turned—all businesslike—to face the soldier. “Yes, Tyler?”

“Sir! Me and Will were searching our grid when we stumbled upon, a…uh…”

Bennett started coughing, the grating hoarseness rather painful sounding. Tyler's gaze darted briefly to Bennett, but a quick clearing of Jacob's throat commandeered his attention, though he still seemed unable to spit out his tale.

“What did you find, Tyler?”

His throat bobbed nervously, but then he croaked. “A body.”

“A body…not…Annie?” Jacob's voice cracked, his hand reaching out as if he needed steadying. Gabby moved to hold him up, but he stepped away, his fear transferring to an uncontrollable tremor of his hands.

“What?” The soldier blinked. “Oh, no…Not Annie.” He shifted uncomfortably, obviously distraught that he'd upset the commander. “We're actually not sure of the man's name, but both Will and I are sure we've seen him around. He tends to keep to himself though and—”

“How did he die?” Jacob asked with a firmer voice this time, folding his still-shaking hands together behind his back.

“Vampire, sir. At first we weren't sure because his throat was practically ripped out, but Will, he, uh, got a closer look and said he could make out the original bite.”

Jacob's jaw worked. He nodded down at the Taser gripped in the soldier's hand. “And that?”

“We found it next to the body. Holding down the note.”

“The note?”

Tyler nodded, his throat bobbing. “I have it right here, sir.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled envelope. “Only…” He lifted the seemingly innocuous paper, his gaze fixed on Gabby as he said, “It's addressed to you.”