Caressed by Shadows (Rulers of Darkness Book 4) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty

Sonya did
not
want to return to her Clan. Ever. She wanted to remain in the quaint cottage, lying in Falcon’s arms until it was time for her to join the rest of the fallen monarchs of the vampires.

She never imagined love could be like this. She had never felt so close to anyone in her long life. Falcon
had shared his secrets with her, his hopes and desires, things she instinctively knew he had not shared with another person. She knew him in ways no one else did, as he did her. She had laid her soul bare to him. The pain and guilt of her past actions had not vanished, but had faded and for the first time in centuries she felt as if she could breathe.

Unfortunately, reality had to set in and, even though she had found a crack in Falcon's shield o
f honor, he would never run. He fully intended to return with her and openly declare their relationship. He could not be bothered by the consequences of such an act. She longed for him to stay with her, to be her King, but vampire law forbade it and she would not be responsible for his death. Once they met the rescue team and boarded the jet home, their affair would be over.  They had one more night to savor their love and surrender to their hidden desire and ravenous hunger.  Tomorrow, they would go their separate ways.

Or they should. Falcon had vowed to stay by her side for as long as he was able.

Sonya shifted in her seat, turning her body so she could gaze out the window. She worried her bottom lip as she tried to understand Falcon’s thoughts. Did he know something she didn’t? What was he planning?

With an undignified groan she gave up. The male was a puzzle and trying to piece him together was giving her a headache.

“So, who are we meeting in Glasgow?” she asked.

“Sir Roche.”

“Pierre?”

“You know him?”

“I know of him. Gwendolyn had a thing for him a few decades back.”

Falcon nodded. “He is popular.”

“With women,” she added and scoffed. “He’s too pretty for my liking. His features are...soft. He was changed too young. Then again, who am I to judge? I’m forever nineteen just as he is forever twenty.”

He chuckled. “Mortals must look at us and think I stole you from the nursery.”

“Like hell. I’m not a child. Besides, you were twenty four when your new life started.”

In mortal years they were on
ly five years apart, which wasn’t too bad. But vampires lived forever and he easily had a couple hundred years on her.

“Sir Roche arrived in Glasgow last.”

“He came alone? That hardly seems wise,” Sonya said.

“Someone had to test the hunter’s security. His team should arrive just before sunrise.”

“Okay. I’m a bit confused. What are we doing?”

“He has coordinates mapping our extraction point. Sir Roche and his team will also provide extra security.”

“Will we be boarding our flight tonight?”

“Tomorrow. He has the address for a safe house. I believe it’s an old farmhouse,” Falcon explained.

“Sounds like a romantic setting for the last night of our...vacation.”

Did she see sadness flicker in his eyes? Was he regretting his decision to stay with her?

If he came home with her it would confirm their counsel’s suspicions. She didn’t care what they did to her, she didn’t have much time left, but she didn’t want Falcon to join her in death.

She was about to tell him again that he should remain with his clan when he pulled over and slid the vehicle into park.

He shrewdly studied the tight one way street. The street lamps provided minimal light and cast harsh shadows. All the shops were closed. Mortals laughed as they stumbled along the sidewalk before turning down an ally. After a long moment he turned the car off.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “All set.”

Her hunting knife was fastened between her shoulder blades, concealed by her tank tap. She had a pair of daggers stashed in her boots. Sonya had taken Falcon’s cue and didn’t secure her gun to her thigh. They were going to be on foot in a heavily populated city. The boom of gunshots would draw unwanted attention. Blades were silent killers.

“There could be hunters. Be sharp and stay close to me.”

“Done.”

A smile began to curl his lips, but quickly disappeared, replaced by a cold, inscrutable expression. His gaze turned hard, chilling.

He got out and Sonya joined him. The car locked with a high pitched beep as they started walking down the street. The setting reminded her of the night Falcon had saved her from the dungeon. Had they really spent seven days together? Falcon had said he would have her home in a week. Again, she knew she should be glad they were almost home, but the knowledge made her sad. She wasn’t ready to wake from her perfect dream. She finally had Falcon.

Pay attention to your surroundings and stop thinking about the knight,
she told herself.

They preceded down the street and rounded a corner, coming to a run-down warehouse. Falcon drew open the metal bay door.

He bowed and swept his arm, “Your Highness.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. Searching with her senses she discovered the warehouse was empty.

“Sir Roche isn’t here.”

Falcon shrugged. “He will be soon.”

Sonya folded her arms across her chest and began to wander around. Judging by the dilapidation, the place had been abandoned for at least three decades. Graffiti decorated the metal walls and broken glass layered the floor.

“Who set up this meeting?” she asked
after a long moment of silence.

“I assume my king,” he replied. “I received a text to meet Sir Roche here for the reasons previously discussed.”

Her brow creased with a frown. She paused in her appraisal of the warehouse to study him. Something was wrong. She could sense he was on edge. Was he having second thoughts of leaving his Clan for her? She would understand. Or was he nervous to face one of his Clan members after making his decision?

She massaged her temples and sighed.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked.

Sonya jumped. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her around to face him. “Care to share?”

She bit her bottom lip. “You won’t like it.”

Falcon’s shoulders rolled back as he gave an exasperated sigh. “Still trying to get rid of me?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “You’ve got some…interesting short term goals. Coming to live with me will raise a lot of questions. Not to mention I
’ll likely have a handful of good weeks left before my sanity shatters and the Death Curse takes me. What will you do then? You have an eternity. I don’t. You need to think long term.”

His
jaw tightened and anger flashed in his eyes. “How many times must I tell you? I’m not leaving you and you are not going to die.”

“Please, Falcon. Hear me out. The consequences─”

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hard against his chest. The air slammed from her lungs as he claimed her lips. His kiss was hungry and aggressive. He laced his arms around her, curling her body against his.

Sonya gripped his biceps, clinging to him. She never wanted to let him go. Instinct told her they belonged together while her good sense argued that this was wrong.

Falcon backed her against the steel wall. His hands slid down her back to cup her bottom. Sonya circled her legs around his waist when he lifted her. His hard shaft pressed against the apex of her thighs. Her pulse spiked and he deepened the kiss, bruising her lips. She loved it and wanted more.

She rolled her hips and smiled against his mouth when he groaned.

He drew back, his hot liquid silver gaze swirled with a storm of lust. He rasped, “Wicked queen.”

Sonya rocked even harder against him. “Your wicked queen,” she corrected.

A possessive growl rumbled his chest. The vibration hardened her nipples.

“Mine.”

He took her lips again. This time his kiss was scalding, frantic, filled with desire and desperation. It was as if he were a man waiting for his turn at the gallows. His intensity matched her own.

His hands moved from her hips and inched up her waists to span across her ribcage just beneath her breasts. She could feel the heat of his fingers through her shirt. Her nipples tightened, her passion heightening. She bucked against him and gasped. His hard length strained against his pants.

Unable to control himself, Falcon thrust against her. Sonya was driving him to the brink of destruction. His demon demanded he take her now. He could tear open her jeans, unzip his own and burry himself deep within her searing heat.

His hands traveled back down to her hips, his finger brushed over the waist line of her pants, his claws lengthening.

Sonya moaned, “Yes,” then nibbled on his bottom lip.

He was undone. Falcon freed the brass button of her jeans, his talon’s poised to rip down her zipper.

Footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse. His body tensed. His vampire roared, enraged. It wanted to tear apart the intruder.

Closing his eyes, Falcon reeled in his demon. It was Pierre.

Sonya released a disappointed sigh as he lowered her to her feet.

“Later,” she whispered.

I can only hope
, he thought.

“Sir Roche,” Falcon greeted.

The other Black Knight shook his hand. “Sir Kenwrec.” Turning to Sonya he offered a bow. “Your Majesty, I trust you are in good health.”

“Yes, Sir Roche. Sir Kenwrec has been taking wonderful care of me.”

Falcon hoped Pierre didn’t see Sonya wink at him. He didn’t want to leave her with ruinous rumors circulating about the time they had spent together.

He didn’t
want to leave her at all.

But Silvie had made it clear that was not an option. He had to die for Sonya to live. Instinct told him that Death would be collecting his soul tonight, which is why after he spoke with the priestess he had called Hadrian. Falcon needed to know So
nya would be protected after he left the realm of the living. He had asked for a team to be sent to ensure she returned home safely.

“You must be anxious to get back to the continent,” Pierre said as he pulled an envelope from the breast pocket of his coat. The movement revealed an assortment of shining throwing stars and small daggers. Like a true Black Knight, Pierre was ready for battle.

“I’ve everything mapped out and timed,” he added.

Falcon read over the escape plan. Everything had been arranged just as he had requested.

“When will your team arrive?” Falcon asked.

“Just before dawn. We will rendezvous at the safe house tomorrow at 1900 hours. Together, we will meet the jet, which will be located here,” Pierre said, pointing at a red dot on the map.

Falcon withdrew his cell phone and logged the two locations in his GPS. “I’m certain you know, Sir Roche, this mission is extremely sensitive.”

Sir Roche gave a tight nod. “Her Majesty’s safety is of the utmost importance.”

“Thank you, Sir Roche,” Sonya said.

“Have you run into any hunters while in the city?” Falcon asked.

Pierre growled. “Yes. I had the pleasure of disposing of four on my here. They are thick within the city.” He paused a moment. “King Hadrian hand-picked the traction team. All of the men are skilled warriors and fiercely loyal.”

“Speak plainly,” Falcon instructed impatiently.

“I don’t believe there is a traitor in our camp, but…I believe the witches have been tipped off. I had two hunters trailing me, which I quickly dispatched. A few blocks from here, I came across another pair and overheard their conversation. They know you two are here and they are out in force.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Falcon knew the instant they were being followed.

Hunters. He could smell them.

Violence swept through him. His muscles tensed and his bones vibrated as the demon within him stirred.

The bastards had come in droves, seeking to take what belonged to him. He didn’t give a damn about vampire law or the Death Curse, Sonya was his.

Falcon’s gaze darkened and his fangs grew to razor points. Hunter blood would bathe the old cobble stone alley.

“There’s five,” Sonya whispered.

And more were heading their way, he could sense another group up ahead.

The soft click of a gun being cocked excited his beast. In a flurry of movement, Falcon spun around. His hand slipped into his jacket, his fingers wrapping around the smooth, sharp edges of a pair of throwing stars. With a flick of his wrist, the silver weapons cut through the air embedding in the center of the gun toting hunter’s chest. Blood bubbled from his lips as he fell face first to the ground.

The witches charged, knives and semi-automatic weapons drawn. Falcon left his guns holstered. He didn’t want to draw any unwanted mortal attention. His claws extended. With an unholy growl, he attacked, slashing his enemies.

Reaching back, Sonya unsheathed her dagger from between her shoulder blades. She twirled, slicing and dicing as she danced, elegantly avoiding the hunter’s strikes.

From the corner of his eye, Falcon saw an injured witch pull a compact flare gun from his jacket. He pulled the trigger as his last breath escaped him. The sky glowed an ominous, neon green. A beacon betraying their location.

Fuck.
He needed to get Sonya to the car.

He quickly dispatched the last two hunters, cutting open their throats with his claws.

Grabbing Sonya by the arm, he rasped, “We need to go.”

“That son of bitch set off a flare,” she hissed passed her fangs.

The sound of pounding footsteps bounced off the alley walls. Falcon’s protective instincts roared to life. He shoved Sonya behind him as he wheeled around. Freeing his 1911s’, he fired. If the cops rolled up, they would be in for one hell of a show.

Bodies hit the ground as the booming sound of gun fire echoed through the night.  Screams ended as the enemy choked on their own blood. As he reloaded, Sonya stepped forward, the moonlight glinting off of her blade as she fought.

The hunters kept coming and a familiar stench joined the fray. Falcon’s gaze swept over the throng and settled on Samuel and his henchman, Oliver. The Samuel’s lips peeled back over yellowing teeth.

His booming voice caught Sonya’s attention, drawing her eyes to him. Falcon felt the hate that erupted within her. Her golden eyes were now consumed by darkness, fathomless black that promised to send your soul to hell. Her fangs glistened as she roared, the force shook the ground.

Samuel smirked, amused by her rage.

Blinded by rage, Sonya lunged forward. Her gazed fixed on her abductor, she didn’t see the hunter rushing from the left, his blade raised. Falcon whirled around, holstering one of his guns and grabbed her wrist with his free hand. Pulling her against him, shielding her with his body, he took the blow meant for her. The knife sliced into his side. The dagger twisted, cracking his ribs and puncturing his lung. Turning, he swung his arm out, the hilt of his gun connecting with the fragile bone of a foolish hunter’s face. The witch fell to the ground and received a bullet to the head.

Tearing the dagger free, Falcon cast it aside with a quick glance at the blade. A curse fell from his lips as a gentle numbness began to spread outward from his wound.

The weapon had been dipped in poison. He blinked down at his injury. Instinctively Falcon knew he’d just been added to the top of Death’s hit list.

“I want the female alive!” Samuel bellowed, clearly infuriated his hunter had tried to deliver a death blow.

“I’ll have your head,” she snarled.

Falcon brought his gun level with his mark, Oliver. As much as he craved to end Samuel’s life, he would leave that kill for Sonya. He squeezed the trigger. Oliver dropped.

Samuel growled and drew his own gun. Sonya howled and charged, cutting down every hunter in her path with amazing speed. Samuel pointed the muzzle at Falcon and pulled the trigger. Falcon braced for an impact that never came. Samuel’s hand lay on the cobbled ground, blood gushing from his wrist.

Sonya stood before him, the tip of her blade gently resting against the Red Order Councilmen’s hammering pulse.

Her lips curled into a smile. She ran her tongue over her fangs. “I’ll have your head,” she whispered.

With a swift and easy twist, Samuel’s body collapsed, his head rolling to the side.

Sirens pierced the air as the alley grew still and silent. They needed to put some distance between themselves and the city. Especially before the poison’s effects really kicked in. But first things first, Falcon needed to dispose of the evidence. He pulled four, small, black bags from his jacket pocket. The bombs resembled hacky sacks. With long strides, Falcon stepped over the bodies of the fallen.

“We need to go,” he said.

Sonya nodded, her gaze still trained on Samuel. She kneelt down and wiped her blade across his back, cleaning the blood from it. Straightening, she returned her weapon to its sheath. Without a word, she turned and calmly began to walk in the direction of their car.

Falcon tossed the bags to the ground and followed. Once a safe distance away, he shot one bag, causing a chain reaction. The ground and surrounding buildings violently shook as the enchanted flames engulfed the alley destroying everything they touched. When the authorities finally arrived, they would find nothing but chard brick and cobble stones.

Once back at the car, he started the engine and pulled away. His cell phone rested on the dash, the coordinates for the safe house clearly on display.

The sweet numbness was quickly fading. Sharp pain splintered through him. He could feel the poison spreading. It heated his blood, sparking a fever. Sweat began to bead on his brow. Clenching his jaw, he stomped on the gas.

They sped down the road in silence. Sonya stared out the window and Falcon was grateful for the lack of conversation. He wasn’t certain he could disguise the sound of pain in his voice. His side had begun to burn. His lung collapsed, his breathing and his heart stopped. Without the steady beat of his pulse, the poison would advance more slowly throughout his system, sparing him more time.

Sonya’s gaze shifted his way. She sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled.

“Were you hit?” she asked
. “Are you hurt?”

Falcon gnashed his teeth. The pain intensified, his vision winked black. The car swerved.

Sonya leaded toward him. “Falcon, where were you hit?” Sonya placed her palm on his thigh. Her touch was cool and welcome. He felt as if he were burning up from the inside out. The poison was corroding his veins and attacking his organs. Serving its purpose, it was destroying his immortality.

Is this what Silvie had meant by sacrifice? She had said Death would come and Falcon was certain it would be for him. He only hoped this meant Sonya would be saved.

He rubbed at his eyes, his vision blurring again.

“You should pull over,” Sonya
said.

“Not stopping,” he grated.

Her features darkened with a scowl. “Something is wrong. I can sense it. Pull over.”

He shook his head, tightening his grip on the steering wheel; his knuckles turning white.

Sonya snapped, “I’m not playing, Falcon. Pull the damn car over.”

Vision blurring again, he narrowly missed hitting a road side. For god
ssake, Falcon.”

Grumbling curses, he pulled the car to the shoulder and slid it into park.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back. Normally, he would take in a deep breath. Though breathing was entirely unnecessary he felt the act to be calming, but he refused to reactivate his lungs and his heart.

“Would you like me to drive?” she asked.

He grunted in reply and reached for the shifter. She stayed his hand.

“Let’s switch. I can get us to the safe house.”

After a long moment, Falcon nodded. He knew walking and moving would agitate the injury, but with his eyesight threatening to give out on him, he knew he couldn’t continue to drive. He mentally prepared himself for the pain and threw the car door open. Biting back a curse, he stepped out. Blood trickled down his side, soaking his shirt.

As he came around the back, Sonya shoved him against the trunk, pushed his jacket aside and gasped.

Falcon growled in pain.

“Take your jacket off,” she instructed.

“We need to get going,” he hissed, shuddering.

“After. Now, take your jacket off.”

She helped him removed his bulky jacket. Her touch was gentle until she ripped his shirt. Tearing it from him, she used it to wrap around his ribcage, securing it tightly to stop the bleeding. His vision doubled and he swayed, his head swam. His thoughts scattered. Sonya helped him into the backseat. Falcon lay across the bench seat. He tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, but his arms were too heavy.

Sonya adjusted the driver seat and turned back onto the highway. Falcon’s stomach twisted and he dry heaved.

He welcomed the pain and the suffering he knew would follow. He only wished death would come swiftly so that Sonya witness his torture for long.