Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (32 page)

“About fifteen seconds.”

They passed over a grocery store filled with vehicles. She had the odd thought that while some of these vampires might be headed in to buy bread, milk and vegetables, she was hoping her man didn’t have to use his sword tonight.

She shifted her gaze away from the life she didn’t have and engaged the life before her. The canal appeared, crisscrossed by several smaller bridges. He flew above the water then began to slow.

What Iris saw first was an inky witch spell that blotted out the stars and covered the canal as well as the bridge. She could see what looked like a growing stream running in a broad ditch that ran beneath Tonopah Bridge alongside the canal. She realized the ditch had once been part of a run-off landscaping provision for the heavy monsoon months. Her world had simply blasted out a few hundred extra yards which meant the water was rising fast.

Beside the growing stream, several vampires had gathered around a fire they’d built. They were laughing, a couple of them shouting. No doubt they’d been drinking heavily and she suspected were already high on one of the many flame drugs.

“Is that a spell?” Connor asked quietly, drawing her gaze back to the bridge.

“Yes, it is. But I don’t know all that it’s hiding.”

Some of the black smoke on the bridge dissipated suddenly, enough to reveal a lean figure, dressed all in black. He stood balanced on the bridge railing, legs spread wide, his leather duster flapping in the light breeze.

He held a sword in his hand similar to the one Connor owned.

Connor flew slowly in the direction of the vampire and as he did, Iris focused on the spell. It was evil in nature, a conjuring of one of the dark witches. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“This is oppressive,” Connor murmured.

“It is. But keep going.”

“I am. We need to face our enemy.”

Iris swallowed hard as the distance to the bridge shrank. Evil surrounded them now.

But when Connor was only thirty feet from the bridge, the spell shrouding the vampire’s face, dissipated.

“I know him. Oh, my god.”

“What?”

“It’s Evan. Evan Pierce. Connor, I think I understand and it all makes sense now. The woman you shot and killed had to be his wife, Heather.”

Connor halted midair, fifteen feet away from the man he’d seen at Gary’s club. His eyes were green and glinting with a terrible light, something that went beyond a sole need for revenge. Evan was enjoying himself, the control he had over them both right now, and that he’d surprised them.

“So, you’re the moral Border Patrol officer above taking the usual bribes.”

Connor saw no reason to deny who he was. “I am.”

Evan frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on Connor.

Every warrior instinct Connor possessed rose to high alert. Now that he faced his enemy, the man intent on killing them both, adrenaline flooded his veins. His gaze made a sweep of the man, his stance, the relaxed state of his hands, the way he held himself.

Evan had confidence, more than he should if he was alone and facing a seasoned BP officer.

Which meant, Evan had someone with him.

The dark cloud hanging over the entire area, including the vampires partying below, confirmed Connor’s belief the man had been corrupted by a witch. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Evan shifted his gaze to Iris. “So, we meet again, yet under very different circumstances.”

“You don’t need to do this, Evan. We were friends, once, remember?”

“Well, that was before you helped kill my wife.”

“You know I did no such thing.”

“Oh, but you did.” Evan continued in this vein, apparently wanting Iris to know how badly she’d failed him.

With Evan’s attention shifted away from him, Connor was able to focus on Iris. She was in an unusual state and seemed relaxed yet every sense she possessed had reached out to her environment, including the spell. She might be talking with Evan about past events, but she was analyzing everything around her.

It seemed odd he knew this, but Iris had been trying to tell him something similar in the garden and he began to get what she meant. He shared a connection to Iris now, an awareness of her intentions and her desires.

Evan addressed Connor once more. “You were more directly involved, having shot my wife in the chest point blank.”

Connor knew it would make no difference at all, but he said it anyway. “Killing Heather destroyed something inside me. I want you to know that. She was anguished when she died, emaciated because her handlers had her strung out on blood flame. But her last words hurt the worst.” He didn’t say what they were.

Evan’s footing slipped slightly, his eyes widening. He regained his balance, making use of levitation, to once more stand on the metal railing of the bridge. “Her last words? None of my extensive research turned up any such thing. You’re lying.”

“I was the one there, Evan. I had to look into her beautiful, despairing green eyes. I heard each word she spoke.” He slapped a hand against his chest. “They live in here. They always will.”

“What did she say?”

Connor debated telling him. If Evan was motivated to hear his wife’s final words, that could work in their favor. “I want you to forgive Iris for her failure to keep Heather’s case alive. From what I understand, she worked tirelessly to find your wife. Others above her shut the case down. They’re to blame. Iris was just doing her job. So, let her off the hook, then I’ll tell you.”

A hot wind blew suddenly against his back and Iris’s arm tightened around his neck. He felt it as well, Evan’s witch was making her presence known.

Connor continued. “Your
friend
doesn’t seem to like the idea. Is this really up to her?”

Evan’s gaze shifted away, his lips turning down.

Iris whispered, “She’s communicating with him.”

“How?”

“Telepathically, I think.”

“Is that something you can do?”

“No. That is. I’ve never tried. Never even thought about it.”

Evan’s shoulders had lost their straight edge and his nostrils flared. “Fuck Heather’s last words.”

“Just as I thought. Pussy-whipped by a witch.”

The hot wind slammed so hard into his back he lurched forward, lost his levitating balance and Iris slipped off his boot.

He caught her quickly around the waist, holding her against him, then levitated straight up. He had one intention, to get Iris the hell out of there.

But he didn’t get far. The spell stopped his ability to think in its tracks. He barely knew where he was. He began to descend slowly and the more he did, the clearer his mind became. He attempted a lateral escape, but the same thing happened. The witch had them penned in.

There was no escape now and there would be no reasoning with Evan, no more bargaining, nothing. This would be a battle to the death.

Iris loosened her hold on him and leaned back. She glanced at Evan then back at him. “You do what you’ve gotta do.” She then pushed hard enough to disrupt his hold on her waist so that she fell away from him, letting go of him completely.

“Iris,” he shouted as she fell backward. He started after her, but the hot wind was a wall now and wouldn’t let him get to her.

Just as Iris would have hit the side of the ditch, she righted herself in the air. Holy shit, she’d levitated. A few of the more powerful witches and other species could do the same, but it was rare. Or maybe it was her connection to him, the mirror-effect she’d talked about earlier.

“I’m okay,” she called to him, dropping to balance herself in the rocky dirt. “I suggest you take this asshole out. Evan used to be a good man, but he’s no longer here.”

Connor didn’t have to think twice. He drew his gun and fired repeatedly. But Evan waved a hand and the bullets appeared to fly around him. More witch power, but how was he doing it? How was a vampire accessing the witch’s abilities?

Connor holstered his Glock then moved in swiftly, flying to the bridge and dropping down on the pavement. He drew his short-sword from its sheath. Evan’s lips curled back in a grimace. He rotated his shoulders and lost his duster. He was lean, but bulked up.

He grabbed his own sword, lowered his shoulders and knees, a smile forming on his lips. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

“Then you never thought Iris and I would die from the blast?”

“There was a chance, but my woman said Iris was special and didn’t have the usual prejudices against vampires that most witches do. She was right. And it’s made the game a lot more fun.”

“What’s your witch’s name?” Maybe if he knew who he was battling, he could figure out how to beat Evan.

“None of your business. Besides, she’s a very private individual. She wouldn’t want her name known.”

“She’s using you, Evan.”

The hot wind rushed into him again, striking once more from behind. He flew forward, rolling hard and landed on his back at Evan’s feet. His sword had been knocked from his hand and Evan’s sword was now at his throat.

“Not smart to anger the woman.” In a swift move, Evan swept the sword up, reversing direction to bring the rounded hilt end down on Evan’s skull.

Connor blinked twice, then nothing.

***

Iris hid under the bridge in a temporary spell she’d built. It wouldn’t last long. The other witch’s power circled almost endlessly in the entire area. Across the stream, the vampires drank, shouted, and danced around the fire.

Iris had a bad feeling about where all this was building. But she’d already called Lily at the station, explained what was happening and requested Vaughn as back-up. Lily said she was on it.

Tears touched her eyes. She couldn’t hear Connor’s voice anymore. Instead, Evan and the witch talked quietly.

She knew Connor wasn’t dead, because she could sense his life-force. She could only suppose he was unconscious.

The wind suddenly blew in her direction beneath the bridge. The next moment, her own spell peeled away and Evan was right there, standing in front of her.

He grabbed her with his powerful arms then pulled her with him as he flew backward. He moved so fast, she couldn’t even fight him. Instead, she worked hard just to hold her balance. She even tried to engage her newly realized levitation ability, but couldn’t. If he released her now, she’d fly off and probably be crushed by the blow.

Instead, she saw the vampires and the fire below her and the next moment, Evan flung her in the dirt. “Enjoy her, boys. She’s yours for the night.” He glanced at Iris. “Now you’ll get to experience how my wife was raped over and over.”

Turning, she saw that Connor lay in the dirt face down, wincing as he came back to consciousness. He was too far away to reach, at least twelve feet.

Two of the vampires leaped on Iris. They smelled like whisky and there was a sharp blood flame tang in the air as well. For a moment, she was pinned down, but the vampires were out of control and began hitting each other, vying for first rights.

She gathered her witch energy, sending it down her arm and into her hand. The victor jumped on her, and began pulling at her jeans. She slowly began to sit up, holding her hand steady, an eye to his temple. All she had to do was touch him in this vulnerable spot or at the base of his neck and he’d die.

But Evan leaped in her direction and grabbed her arm. He clucked his tongue. “None of that or I’ll have to hurt you myself.” He then took her arm in both hands and lifted his knee.

He looked down at her. “You get a choice. Do I break your arm or do you behave?”

“I’ll be good.” If he’d broken her arm, the pain would immobilize her completely. From her peripheral vision, she saw Connor rising up, but she didn’t look in his direction. She needed to keep Evan focused on her. “Please, don’t hurt me, Evan. I swear I won’t use my killing power.”

Evan smiled and the partying vampire resumed his efforts to get Iris’s pants off.

***

Connor no longer had either of his weapons, but he saw his chance and took it. He flew straight at Evan, pulled the man’s sword from his sheath, and rammed it into his stomach. Evan fell onto his back, grabbing his abdomen, and crying out in pain. Gut wounds were the worst.

Connor then turned and flew behind the vampire still fumbling over Iris’s pants and used the same blade to cut his throat.

The other vampires began to move away from him. He chased one into the water, landing on his back. He pushed him beneath the current, but the vampire rose up and threw Connor into the air. The sword flipped out of his hand and disappeared into the water.

Connor levitated then dove at the vampire, shoving him once more into the muddy stream. He punched him in the throat hard, then pushed him under the surface, sitting on him. The vampire struggled, as much against the pain of having his windpipe shattered as trying not to drown. Connor kept him pinned until there was no more movement. When he stood up, the vampire began slowly drifting with the rushing stream.

“Connor!” Iris’s hoarse voice called to him.

Connor flew back to the fire and found Evan, white-faced, sitting in the dirt, but with a powerful arm wrapped around Iris’s throat. He was trembling from the pain he was in, yet he still had control of her. The black cloud boiled above them.

“You come near me, and I’ll snap her neck.”

One of the remaining vampires suddenly attacked Connor, throwing him into the dirt on his back. Before Connor could move, the vampire landed on his chest and began punching him, in rapid blows. Hopped up on flame as the vampire was, each strike carried unbelievable weight.

Connor tried to move but couldn’t.

Iris,
he called to her from his mind. He didn’t expect anything to return, but he made the effort anyway. The blows began to feel soft, which meant he was sliding into unconsciousness.

He had to do something. Iris would die otherwise. And Evan would probably torture her.

The vampire sitting on him was breathing hard and stopped punching. It took work to beat the shit out of someone and druggies by nature of their addiction usually weren’t in the best shape.

The silver streaks in Iris’s spell came to mind. He and Iris had connected in a way he suspected was very similar to Evan and his witch. He focused on Iris, on her witchness, on how much he could sense what she was feeling.