Vampires' Consort: Magical Menages, Book 2 (18 page)

A gusty sigh came from the phone. “Just go. I’ll explain later.”

“You can tell me while I’m on my way. Listening won’t slow me down.” He refused to let Valarian hang up without an explanation.

“It seems Overton’s opponent Wieser has died, leaving the playing field pretty open for him. Akila asked again if I would come out as a vampire, releasing her from the need to bear this child. I told her it’s a destiny she can’t escape and that the Sisters had said nothing would stop it.”

A taxi stopped by the curb. Jacob dashed through a patch of sunlight, climbed into the car and told the driver his hotel address. “So you promised Akila the choice was hers but it wasn’t true? And you dragged me into your lie. She probably assumes I was part of it. Did you even bother to tell her I was your puppet too?”

Dead silence gave him his answer.

“I’ll call her,” Jacob said, speaking aloud to himself. “Tell her I didn’t know.”

“I think it’s better if you don’t.” Of course, Valarian would say that. Since Akila was angry at him, he wanted Jacob to take some of the heat. “Anyway, she’s on a flight and probably has her phone off. Just get on a plane and get to her. I’m nervous about Overton since she said she felt she was being watched outside her apartment.”

“That was probably me, playing stalker for you,” Jacob said bitterly, “and now you want me to do it again.”

“Guardian angel, not stalker. She could be in danger. Are you going to leave her alone and vulnerable?”

No, of course he wasn’t. He’d be on the next plane whether Valarian told him to go or not, but he was damn tired of having his master pull his strings. “I’ve got to call the airport and book a flight. I’ll talk to you later.”

He ended the call without offering a goodbye and glared out the window at the busy Washington streets. Anger at Valarian warred with nervous panic as he considered what Overton’s minions could do to Akila—assuming they knew of her existence. He wished he
was
an angel with wings to fly across the country straight to her. He’d hover over her and keep her safe whether she wanted him to or not.

Jacob winced and leaned back in the seat, rubbing a hand over the gathering headache in his temples. This was bad. He cared for her too much, far more than she probably cared for him, or she wouldn’t have left without a word, without waiting to hear his side of the story. Not even a phone call or text. That cut like a knife. He’d thought he meant a little more to her than that.

But it didn’t matter. Whether she loved him or despised him, he would be there, close by, keeping her safe. He lifted his phone and called the airline reservation desk.

Valarian stared at his captive birds and felt like one of them. He was trapped in this house until the sun went down and he could fly away. His reservation from Miami airport was set, and his private plane awaited him on the airstrip. If the pilot wondered about making three trips to and from the island in one day, he would certainly never question the man who paid him so well.

But the sun’s rays lingered like a curse. And seeing the birds in their cage reminded him that no matter how spacious, it was still a cage. He suddenly hated the sight of them. He opened the door and left it wide, but not one of them ventured out. He’d kept them incarcerated too long and they’d forgotten what freedom meant.

Like him. Growing placid and flaccid on this bit of paradise. He hadn’t been out in the world scrapping and fighting for far too long, an aged warrior with his boots off and his feet up in front of a fire. Now he was ready to go out and take back his honor.

Akila had had every right to confront him about revealing his true identity to the world. He might hide behind the idea that knowing the truth about vampires would upset a delicate balance between normal and paranormal. But the truth was that he was afraid. What if his billions of dollars weren’t enough to protect him from villagers with pitchforks and torches? What if the U.S. Army or some other organization decided he needed to be caged and studied, or even put to death? What if the rest of the vampire community decided to destroy him for exposing them all?

None of these possibilities was appealing. And that was exactly how Akila must feel when presented with an ultimatum about becoming pregnant in order to save her species. The prophecy and even the visions he’d been shown were vague about what exactly their progeny would do. Why should Akila give up her youth and freedom to become a mother when she wasn’t assured of the necessity of it? And why shouldn’t she expect just as much of a sacrifice from him?

He’d once been a lion, devouring everything in his path. Surely he could step forward now and bare his teeth once more. After he went to Chicago and checked that Akila had arrived safely and that Jacob was watching over her, he’d call a press conference.

Then the world would have a revelation such as it had never known.

Her trip from Miami to Chicago had been completely uneventful, but Akila was exhausted by the time she climbed the stairs to her apartment and unlocked the door. She wanted to collapse on her bed and sleep, forget about Jacob’s sad eyes, which haunted her, Valarian’s lie. which taunted her, and erase the visions of babies dancing in her head. But on the taxi ride from the airport, she’d swung by a pharmacy and picked up a pregnancy kit and she couldn’t wait until morning to find out the truth. The results might give her a sleepless night or lay her fears to rest.

Who was she kidding? No matter what the results she wouldn’t rest easy, because she still had a decision to make about her future. Would she return to Jacob and Valarian and take on destiny, or continue on the meandering path of a twenty-something trying to make her way in the world?

Her apartment smelled so familiar, a little stuffy but air-freshener sweet. She flicked on the light switch and looked around her place at her furniture, her books, her overflowing desk, her kitchenette and bed all contained in one ratty studio apartment. It wasn’t much after the luxury of the past week, but it was home—or should have been. She felt the way she had when she’d visited her parents during her college years, like the place she’d always called home didn’t fit her anymore. She’d gained a few pounds and needed a larger size.

Akila left her suitcase standing near the door and tossed the pharmacy bag on the counter. She thought of Jacob and suddenly missed him with a sharp pang of longing as if she hadn’t seen him for days instead of just that morning. She turned to close and lock the door behind her.

The door crashed open and a man lunged through it and grabbed her. His hard hands encircled her arms and jerked her toward him with powerful strength. Akila opened her mouth to scream, but before she could, a second man entered behind him. He seized her nape in a viselike grip and something sharp stabbed the side of her neck. Almost immediately, her vision went blurry and her brain unfocused. The faces of her intruders warped and hazed.

Akila fought against the drug infiltrating her system, but her efforts to remain conscious were futile. The last thing she knew before she passed out was that the strangers were carrying her away.

A fuck-up at the airport delayed Jacob’s flight. Some security situation that required guards to visually scan every compartment of the jet kept the passengers idling in the terminal.

Jacob alternated calling and texting both Valarian and Akila, but neither responded to his summons. Valarian’s phone was probably off because he was in the air. Jacob left a message for him about his own flight delay.

The sound of Akila’s voice giving her voicemail message made his heart twist. Jacob told her he was sorry Valarian had withheld the truth but that he hadn’t been a part of it. Even though it was the truth, he thought the message came across a bit like one boy trying to blame another after the teacher had caught them both cheating.

Although he hadn’t known Akila might become pregnant despite birth control, Jacob hadn’t really been worried about the prospect either. Maybe there was a part of him that was a little thrilled by the prospect of her carrying his child—
his
, not Valarian’s, no matter what the prophecy said. Perhaps he felt a secret flush of ego and pride because his sperm were potent enough to plow through man-made barriers and claim her as his mate.

Waiting for hours at the airport was a frustration beyond endurance when all he wanted to do was be with Akila, look her in the eye and convince her he’d never meant her any harm and would be with her for all time, if she would have him. The intensity of his feelings for her frightened him, but the idea of not seeing her again frightened him even more.

And as for his feelings about Valarian…the usual mixture of annoyance, exasperation, loyalty and love applied. No matter how angry Jacob got with his master sometimes, he could no more separate from the man than sever a connection to a conjoined twin.

As he finally stood in line to get on the plane, Jacob felt a crackling along his spine, a preternatural sense of danger that his body picked up like a long distance antenna. His phone rang and he seized it from his pocket. Valarian, at last.

“Where are you?” Jacob demanded.

“Chicago. Phone was off for the flight. Where are you?”

“About to board in D.C.”

“Don’t. Stay there. I think something’s happened to Akila. Her apartment door was open when I arrived and she’s missing.”

Jacob stopped walking and let the people behind him shuffle forward. “Maybe she didn’t go to Chicago. She could’ve changed her mind and her ticket and flown to her parents’ house. Or maybe she’s staying with a friend. What makes you think something happened? Are there signs of a struggle?”

“No. I just know. I can feel she’s in danger.”

Jacob didn’t argue with Valarian’s premonition. The vampire’s connection to those he’d claimed as his with a bite sometimes made him aware of them as if they were an extension of his body.

“I was going to lurk outside, keep an eye on the place,” Valarian continued. “But then I decided to talk to her instead. The closer I got to her apartment, the more I felt a sense of urgency. I’m telling you, Overton’s got her.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jacob asked.

“If his people have taken her, she’s probably being brought to him, maybe even to his house. Go there. Check it out and call me. I’ll continue to look for clues here.”

“Were there any signs of blood?” Jacob left unvoiced his fear that if they hadn’t taken her, they might’ve simply killed her. The gruesome image of vampires feasting on Akila tore at his heart.

“No. I told you, no struggle. Nothing but the open door,” Valarian answered impatiently. “Now book a flight to Trenton.”

“Yes, sir.” Jacob responded automatically, but then he lobbed a grenade of frustration at his master. “This is your fault. You should never have kept the truth from her and you should never have let her go.”

He hung up before Valarian could answer.

Akila floated to the surface of a deep river of restfulness. It took her a few seconds to remember why she’d been so soundly asleep and to realize she wasn’t in her own bed. Her lids fluttered open and she blinked to clear the fog from her eyes and focus on the strange room where she lay. Dread bubbled up inside her like crude oil rising from the ground. If she didn’t keep a lid on it, it would come gushing in a geyser of panic.

She wasn’t dead yet. That was one good thing. If this vampire group Valarian had told her about was holding her rather than killing her, she must have some value to them.

This was assuming she was being held by vampires and not some run-of-the-mill American psycho-kidnapper, who’d just happened to snatch her from her apartment the very same night she’d returned home from Valarian’s island. The coincidence was too much. Besides, crazy kidnapping killers usually kept a person in a gritty old warehouse or dingy basement. She was lying on a lovely antique four-poster bed in a room that looked like it had been decorated by Martha Stewart.

Akila moved her heavy, numb limbs. No rope or chains binding her wrists or ankles. Another positive sign.

She sat up in bed and waited for her head to catch up with her. The aftereffects of the sedative she’d been injected with were a floating feeling and a dry mouth. After the dizziness faded, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose.

The first thing she noticed was that the bedroom had no windows and three doors, one presumably leading out, which was of course locked. The next door revealed an enormous closet and the last opened into a spacious bathroom—also windowless. She didn’t want to be literally caught with her pants down by her captors, but she needed to urinate. She closed the bathroom door and noticed there was no lock.

After she’d seen to her needs and drunk deeply of the cold tap water, Akila returned to the bedroom. Like her studio apartment, it included a sitting area. But, unlike her studio, this living room was beautifully appointed with a suite of expensive furniture and a state-of-the-art entertainment center. Shelves of books lined one wall. She started to wander over to scan the titles just to distract herself from the panic she was barely keeping at bay.

Suddenly the door opened. A pair of men entered. They might have been the same ones who kidnapped her. She couldn’t tell since she’d hardly had a chance to study them before they knocked her out. They stood on either side of the door, apparently unarmed, but clearly ready to grab her if she tried to run.

Akila held steady on her trembling legs, determined not to let them know they scared the shit out of her.

Then another man entered the room, and his face she recognized from the campaign footage she’d watched earlier that day—was this the same day? How much time had passed while she’d been unconscious?

Dale Overton smiled at her as if she was a constituent he hoped to win over. He was a neat, clean-cut, square-jawed, clear-eyed man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had an open, friendly, aw-shucks grin without a hint of guile or smarmy politician sleaze factor. He looked like a man anyone would want to vote for, the honest, hard-working, grassroots type of representative—who just happened to have a serious allergy to UV rays that made it impossible for him to go out in the daylight. Poor man.