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Authors: Lynn Viehl

BOOK: Frostfire
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Unnerved by the transformation, Samuel shuffled back, almost stumbling before he tightened his grip on the gun. “James, get her out of here. Now.”
When the driver tried to drag her away, Lilah stomped on his instep as hard as she could and jerked free, almost falling over as she ran back to Walker. The man she loved had become almost unrecognizable, his body swelling and tearing the seams of his clothes, thick, silver black fur pelting the backs of his hands and the wide muzzle that had once been his face. As she reached him, he pushed her behind him, and she saw five huge talons stretching out of his clublike fingers.
Samuel lowered the gun. “Del, get away from him. Run.” He hobbled forward, shouting, “Hey,” as he lifted his cane above his head.
Walker swept out his arm, knocking Samuel away with one blow. The big man flew twenty feet before he landed and collapsed.
Lilah ran in front of her lover, barring his path to Samuel. “Walker.” She met his furious gaze, and reached into him, searching through the nightmare of images in his mind until she found the remnant of the man she loved.
I’m here. I’m not hurt. You don’t have to kill him.
He seized her by the arms, his talons cutting through her coat and into her flesh. The beast inside him wanted only to kill, to tear Samuel apart, to drink his blood and gnaw on his bones.
You are not a monster
, Lilah told him.
You are a man. You can control the beast.
He bared his fangs, lowering his head and releasing a low, ugly growl.
Lilah’s hands shook as she pressed them to his monstrous face.
Walker, please. You have to fight it or you’ll kill someone. You’ll kill me.
The beast peered at her, and loosened its grip. He lowered his shaggy head and sniffed at the rents in her sleeves.
“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his head close and feeling his flesh shifting against her cheek. “It’s all right. It’s over now.”
“I’ve never been much of a dog lover,” a cool voice said from behind them. “I think it’s the hair. It gets on everything.”
Chapter 21
L
ilah felt something stab into the base of her neck, and clapped her hand over a chambered dart. She spun around to see a slim brunette dressed in an impeccable business suit, who stood flanked on either side by four men with automatic weapons.
Lilah’s head began to spin, and she felt Walker’s arms wrapping around her.
“Leave us alone,” he said, his voice still distorted.
“It talks, too.” The woman shifted the tranquilizer gun in her hand, aiming for Walker’s chest. “That should convince my buyer to add a few more zeros to my check.”
Something swung at the brunette—a baseball bat—and knocked the gun out of her hand.
A tall woman with white hair parked the bat on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t cash it just yet, sweetie.” She turned as one of the brunette’s men fired at her, but instead of falling to the ground, she merely glared. “Hey, dumbass. You’re making holes in my favorite jacket.”
The gunman aimed for her head, and then froze and looked down as thousands of grubs erupted around his feet and began inching up his legs. He screamed and danced, dropping his gun to beat at them with his hands.
As Walker swept Lilah up in his arms, she heard shots being fired, and someone shouting furiously in French. Then he was running, the park blurring around them as he dodged around trees and leapt over obstacles.
She hung on to him with desperate hands, fighting to stay conscious as the powerful drugs began to paralyze her limbs. A huge truck roared to a stop in front of them, and through blurry eyes she saw Ethan Jemmet jump out and fire a shotgun at something past them. The back door flung open, and Nathan leaned out.
“Get in,” he shouted at Walker as the sheriff continued to fire.
Lilah’s vision fogged as Walker handed her in to Nathan, who slid over and supported her head with his arm.
“Ethan, I’ve got them.” Nathan looked down at Lilah. “Is she wounded?”
She tried to say no, but his scars distracted her, and she marveled at how they glowed, like streaks of molten silver in the moonlight. Then she was in Walker’s arms, and he was shaking her and saying her name.
The last thing she heard was Ethan telling them to hold on, and then there was nothing.
 
Gabriel returned from pursuing the rogue to find Nicola helping a large human male to his feet.
“Easy.” She handed the man a cane, which he used to brace himself, and checked the gash in his side. “This looks painful, but it’s not too deep. You probably won’t need stitches.” She glanced at Gabriel. “They got away?”
“Yes, and they had help.” He saw Valori hurrying toward them. “The others?”
“They took off after them.” Nick scowled up at the human. “Now, how did you get mixed up in this, Sasquatch?”
“I was walking in the gardens and I heard a woman scream,” he said, grimacing as he leaned heavily on his cane. “I thought I could assist her.”
“So you’re just a Good Samaritan in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She shook her head and said to Gabriel, “This one is lying, so we’ll assume he’s in cahoots with Little Miss Turncoat and her happy band of shooters.” She bent down, retrieved a gun, and checked the chambers. “Copper rounds. Goddamn it.” She dumped them out onto the grass before snapping the chamber back into place. “Someone knows we’re here.” She brought the gun to her nose, and then glared at the human male. “This is yours.”
“I didn’t shoot anyone. But you, you were shot five times.” The bearded man reached out and touched one of the bullet holes in her jacket. “You’re not even bleeding.” He gave her a wide-eyed look. “You’re one of the old ones.”
“Old?” She made a rude sound. “I’m only twenty-seven, pal.”
Valori joined them and made her breathless report. “Teresina escaped. I think she’s gone after them.”
Gabriel put his hand on the human male’s shoulder, and the air became suffused with the scent of evergreen. “Tell us exactly what happened here, monsieur.”
“I’d be delighted to,” the human male said steadily, “as soon as you tell me who you are, and why you’re here.”
“Another one we can’t control. Terrific.” Nicola lifted her arms and dropped them. “Is there something in the city water, or what?”
“I cannot say.” Gabriel grew thoughtful. “Why would the sheriff stage a rescue?”
“The rogue may have him under his influence,” Valori suggested. “Like the female is.”
“Lilah Devereaux didn’t have that I’ll-do-anything zombie look on her face,” Nicola said. “And we already know the sheriff can’t be bespelled.”
“Let him go,” a man ordered, and Gabriel looked over to see a chauffeur appear behind Valori, putting an arm around her throat and a gun to her head. “Now, or she dies.”
“Go ahead and shoot,” Valori wheezed out. “My life means nothing to them.”
“Shut up, Valori.” Nicola drew her dagger as she eyed the chauffeur. “Why don’t you put that away and go polish a headlight or something?”
“Findley, let her go. No, it’s all right.” When the driver released Valori, the bearded man gave Gabriel a wary look. “My name is Samuel. I came here to meet my friend Lilah Devereaux. She was abducted from Florida, and now is under the control of one of your people.”
Gabriel lifted his brows. “My people?”
“The dark kyn.” He didn’t wait for an acknowledgment. “Some of this situation is my fault. I’ve been searching for my young friend for quite some time, but unfortunately I employed Ms. Segreta to assist me. Apparently she has been following her own agenda.”
“You just figured this out now?” Nicola folded her arms. “Brilliant. Who else works for you? Bernie Madoff?”
“My point is, I am only concerned with Lilah and her safety,” he said. “I have no interest in you or this rogue you’re hunting.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re going to build a campfire together and sing ‘Kumbaya,’ pal,” Nicola advised him. “And since we can’t wipe your memory, you’ve just made yourself a huge liability.”
“How so? I am an injured cripple, and my driver alone can’t capture you or harm you. If I were to go to the police and tell them about you, they would have me carted off to a psychiatric ward. Even the tabloids would suggest I add some aliens to make my tale more realistic for their readers.” He limped over to a bench and sat down. “So you may safely put away your dagger, madam. I am no danger to you.”
“I guess I can’t kill you for being a pain in my ass.” She sheathed the blade. “So, who told you about the Darkyn?”
“History, my dear. I am an antiquities dealer, and I collect letters and journals that date back to the Sumerians. Your kind have been the stuff of many dark legends over the centuries.” He winced, clutching at his side. “I believe I need the first-aid kit, Findley, if you’d be so good to fetch it from the car.”
As the driver hurried off, Gabriel went to the injured man and helped him take off his coat. Although the wound in his side was shallow, he was sweating profusely and his face was ashen with pain. “You should be in a hospital.”
Taske took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face. “I’m afraid my discomfort comes from chronic inflammation of the spine. It will pass in a few minutes.”
Nicola joined them. “Gabriel, his driver will look after him. We have to go.”
“You’ll need some bait to draw out Ms. Segreta,” Samuel said. “Since I’ve behaved no better than a worm, I would like to volunteer my services.”
Nicola sighed. “No offense, Sasquatch, but the only thing you should be dangling from is a traction rig.”
“Tina is only interested in money, something that she knows I have in rather obscene abundance. I have the number to the mobile she is carrying at this moment. And as I was facedown in the dirt when she arrived, she is completely unaware that I was here and witnessed everything. Thus she will never suspect that I am in ‘cahoots’ with you.” His smile faded. “Please. Let me do this. It is the only way I can atone for my part in what’s happened to my friend.”
Gabriel felt a pang of sympathy for the man. “We all make mistakes, monsieur.”
“And penance is overrated.” Nicola still didn’t sound convinced. “What exactly is your plan?”
He took out a mobile phone. “I will call and arrange an exchange with her. All I ask is that you allow me to take Lilah away when it is over.”
Gabriel frowned. Involving the human was a risk, but if the outcast
tresora
had already captured the rogue . . . “Very well, Mr. Taske. You can set the trap, and be our bait.”
 
“She should be waking up soon,” Paul Jemmet said as he closed his case. “I can send Annie over to sit with her.”
Ethan didn’t move from the chair. “I’ll stay.”
His father’s hand rested against his shoulder. “This is not your doing, son. Neither is what happens from here.”
“I know that.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “But I have to be the one to tell her.”
“Call me if you need me.” Paul slipped out of the jail cell and locked the door behind him.
Ethan knew his father would be going to the caves; it was where he could best treat the wounded. The women would be there, too, rolling bandages and making up cots. Nathan and the rest of the men in town were probably finished blocking the entrance to the pass. It wouldn’t keep them out forever, but it would buy them some time. All they needed to do was hold them off until sunset.
The woman stirred, and he picked up her hand, half of him wishing she would open her eyes and the other half hoping that they stayed closed. Her fingers clutched at his as she murmured something.
The waiting, as it always did, became intolerable. “Marianne.” When she didn’t respond, he tried the name her man had shouted. “Lilah.”
Slowly her eyes opened, her pupils dilating as she focused on his face. “Sheriff?”
He smiled. “I think you can call me Ethan now.”
“We were in Denver.” She put her hand to her head. “Something hit me.”
“You were attacked in a park,” he told her. “My brother and I got you out of there and brought you back to Frenchman’s Pass. My father gave you a shot to neutralize the drug they used on you.” He decided not to tell her that Paul had injected her with Ethan’s own blood. “You’re safe now.”
“Walker.” She turned her head. “Where is he?”
“He’s with my father. Lilah, I need you to listen to me. We didn’t know when you first came here what had happened to you. The things that were done to you. But the blood sample my father took from you, the first night you were here, it made things clear.” He paused, wishing the words would come easier. “These men who abducted you and Walker, they infected you with something. Both of you were exposed to a kind of blood that isn’t human. The blood is the problem, not you.”
She tried to sit up. “I need to go to him.”
“You can’t right now, honey.” He tried to take her hand again, but she cringed away. “You wouldn’t want to see him the way he is. It’s the blood they used on you. It doesn’t have the same effect on everyone, and in a few cases”—his mouth curled bitterly—“it doesn’t do much at all. On Walker, well, it’s worked real fast.”

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