Kairos (20 page)

We pull up to a stone building with a bear of a man standing guard in a black suit and jacket with a white tie. I look over to Logan, and he offers up a strained smile and nods to the door, where the rest of the crew is slowly filing out. He stands and reaches behind with his left hand to take my hand in his. Our fingers lace together, and I follow him as he leads the way out of the truck.

“I’ll park and we’ll meet up inside, but first everyone needs to stand in a circle.” The group gathers quickly, and Kayla says a few words in a language I’ve never heard before. A low hum rushes over my skin, and then it’s gone. “All done.” She claps her hands together, hops back into the SUV, and drives off.

“What was that about?”

“Concealment spell. That way no one will question our weapons as we walk among the crowd.” I open my mouth to ask more, but Logan places his finger over my lips and shakes his head. “Not now. It’s not my story to tell.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll talk later.” I decide to let it go for now.

Logan tips my chin up with his finger and looks at me. “No matter what you see or hear, you stay with me, yeah?” I nod back. “This is going to be a bit of a shock for you, Sulwen, and it’s killing me to even bring you here…” His jaw tenses. “I don’t have a choice. This is where they find their prey…places like this.” He squeezes my fingers, and I feel my brows wrinkle in confusion. I don’t know what he’s getting at, but my curiosity is piqued. If this is what I think it is, I’m about to see a whole lot more than I ever bargained for.

“I’m fine, Logan. Let’s go; the others are already going in.”

He looks back over his shoulder to see Josie talking with the guard. Big Bear nods at her and opens the door for them to enter.

He sighs. “All right, let’s go.”

As we approach the open door, I can hear a sensual beat pulsing. Fluorescent lights accost my eyes as the door closes behind me. I squint a little to allow my eyes time to adjust. There’s a wall with a coat rack and what looks like cubbies for personal belongings. I look around to find all sorts of garments, shoes, and even jewelry tucked away in some of them. There are several that are still empty, but not many. Logan looks down at me with worried eyes. His body is tense next to mine, but he doesn’t say anything.

I look over to a stand where a hostess waits in fishnet stockings, a candy-pink see-through bustier, what look to be black boy shorts covered with pink glitter, and knee-high black leather go-go boots. She looks like a stripper, but her jewelry says otherwise. She’s draped in diamonds that adorn her ears, bottom lip, left eyebrow, and pierced nipples that glitter through her top. Fucking A…I knew this was a fetish club. I may not have straddled every cock in my county, but I’m not a dumbass.

I pull my eyes from her massive rack and glance at the guys to see if they are ogling Little Miss Sparkly Boobies, but they are all business, and if her appearance is appealing, they’re not letting it show.

“We need the VIP room, love,” Josie says. She leans up against the podium and twirls her hair around her fingers.
Holy shit
…Josie is flirting with the hostess.

“I don’t know if we have the room, sweets. Lemme check wi’ me boss to see if we can get ya somethin’.” Her accent is so strong that I find myself barely translating every other word. Josie nods and licks her lips. The woman’s cheeks flush the same shade of pink as her barely there top. She gives a saucy grin and struts out to find her boss.

I look up to Logan, who has let loose of my hand and appears to be scanning the cubbies for clues. He walks over and rifles through a few of them but stops when the heels of the hostess can be heard coming back our way.

Josie looks over at me, winks, and flashes a shit-eating grin. This girl is crazy.

“You know the way, luvvies,” the hostess tells us as she reaches for Josie’s hand. She pulls Josie up against her, and they begin French kissing. It is the single most disturbing and erotic thing I have ever witnessed.

Logan walks over and closes my mouth with his finger and chuckles next to my ear. “Easy, love. That’s modest compared to what you’re about to see.” He grabs my hand again and pulls me behind him. I look over my shoulder to see Josie and the hostess in a full-on make-out session. Fucking crazy! Shaking my head, I turn and follow behind the guys.

As we pass the wall and enter the club, I’m hit with about fifty different scents at once—the smell of expensive Scottish whiskey, the pungent odor of imported cigars—but the strongest smell is
sex
. All around me are people in various sexual acts.

To my immediate right, a blond woman is butt-ass naked, down on her knees, with her pert mouth wrapped around the impressive erection of a burly redheaded man lounging back in a semiconcealed booth. He’s wearing a black button-down business shirt with the tie halfway undone, and his slacks are open just enough to free him for the chick on the floor to suck him down her throat. He moans out loud as we step by, eyes closed tight, a blissful expression on his face, head lolling to the side, his tense body leaning against the back of the booth.

Logan’s fingers tighten around mine, and I realize I’ve stopped walking. I look up to piercing green eyes shining with want. This is turning him on, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have an effect on me as well.

I offer a timid smile and swallow the lump of sand building in my throat. He nods and turns back to weave through the slew of bodies. I ignore the groaning and moans of orgasmic pleasure as we pass a threesome in full force next to the stairway leading to the VIP rooms. Logan gives a little tug, and we make our way up the stairs. From the top I look down over the club, and what I see stirs a pulse between my legs that I shamefully squirm to alleviate.

In the far corner is a woman wearing a black lace bra, no panties, and she’s strapped belly down over a bench. A man in a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans without a shirt is brandishing a whip. I watch with wide eyes as he raises his meaty arm and then swings it down to contact with a loud
snap
on her perfect ivory skin. I flinch when the whip cracks in rapid succession against her back, leaving bright red welts on her flesh.

“Shit, Sulwen. If you don’t stop looking at them like that, I’m going to pin you against this wall and…” Logan breaks off and shakes his head. I can feel the heat in my cheeks as excitement rushes over me. He runs his hand down his face. “Let’s go. We’re getting distracted, and that’s the last thing we need tonight. I’ll take care of you when we get home. That’s a promise, Sully.” I nod back enthusiastically, which causes him to crack the first sincere smile I’ve seen all night.

I think I hear him mutter “crazy woman” as we hurry to catch up with the guys who are already way down the hall, getting ready to enter a secluded room around the corner. We enter the room, and Logan closes the door behind him, which shuts out the music and noise of the clientele getting their groove on. He lets go of my hand and walks over to the TV screen that shows a live video feed of the level below. I turn around to take in the room as the guys scan the screen for a familiar
it
.

I walk around and take in my surroundings. The room is lavishly decorated with white leather couches and huge body-sized black pillows lying in various areas of the floor. The carpet is plush, and my shoes sink into it as I walk over to the glass wall and look out over the lower level.

I press my forehead against it and look down to see Josie and Kayla cutting through the crowd as if they’ve spotted someone.

“Guys. Hey, guys. I think the girls have someone.”

I turn around to find Logan and Chase approaching my side. They look down on the ladies as they move across the room, and that’s when I spot it. It has a woman against the far wall with its back to the crowd, fingers locked around her malformed neck. It’s then that I realize her neck is broken, and her body is limp in his arms. He’s pushing up against her in a rapid rhythm.

“Oh God, is he…is he fucking her dead body?” I cover my mouth with my hands. “Oh shit, he is. That is so sick. Why isn’t anyone doing anything to help her?”

“Because they don’t see what you do. They see a man making out with a woman against the wall. He’s cast a glamour,” Logan exclaims.

I turn to see Thad jumping over a couch and the rest of the guys following suit as they barrel out the door.

“Move, Sulwen.” Logan rushes in front of me, and I clamor to catch up. We beat feet down the stairs and meet Kayla and Josie right before they approach Mr. Nasty.

“Outside. Draw him to the left of the Dumpsters,” one of the guys calls out.

“On it,” Kayla answers, heading straight for him.

Josie has her daggers pulled with the handles in her palms and the blades lying flush under her forearms to hide them from plain sight. I turn to see Kayla pull a long blade from her thigh. It looks like a feminine version of a machete. She clutches it tight against her frame as she bumps into the thing screwing the dead woman.

It pulls back, and that’s when I notice it’s part human—or it used to be. It has blood all over its mouth and neck from feeding on the woman’s jugular. Its “thing” is hanging from a pair of dingy black pants. It reaches and folds itself back into its jeans and turns to follow Kayla out the back door.

I watch wide-eyed as the dead girl’s body begins to slide down the wall. Thad reaches her before she hits the floor and carefully pulls her into his arms. He nods to Logan and pushes his way to the emergency exit. I’m nearing Logan and the rest of the crew as they close in on the thing when I feel something bump into me from behind.

I turn, thinking someone is a little tipsy and needs to watch where he’s going, but that is not what I find. An extremely tall man is standing behind me. He’s wearing a dark red t-shirt with black jeans, and when I look up into his eyes I nearly stagger. Solid black orbs are staring back at me, swirling as if they’re made of liquid. His head is bald, and on his right cheek is a tattoo, a tribal symbol. My instincts finally kick in, and I scramble to defend myself.

Before I can reach for the blade on my thigh, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. To the rest of the crowd, it looks like an intimate embrace, but I can feel magic surging all around him. The more I fight, the tighter he pulls me against him. It feels like an invisible blanket wrapping around my body, and my brain can’t seem to muddle through the thickness that is overcoming me.

I shake my head from side to side, working to loosen his grip, but he just pulls me in even tighter. I try to push against his chest, only to find that my hands are trapped between us, and the more I try to squirm out of his hold, the tighter he squeezes. It’s like being suffocated by a boa constrictor. White spots dance across my vision as my oxygen is hindered by the viselike grip he has on my body.

“P-p-please,” I stutter out.

“Master wants you. Master gets you.” His words come out with a slight lisp.

I feel the ground sliding beneath my boots as we move across the floor. I can no longer hear the beat of the music. I can no longer feel my arms. My body feels languid and numb. His magic surges all around me, raising the fine hairs on my neck and arms. Alarm bells are going off inside my head, demanding I get away. He’s siphoning energy off of me. I can feel it. I try to build a wall around my body in my mind, but that only seems to excite him more.

Wandering hands run up and down my spine. I can’t see anything but the back of my eyelids as they flutter shut against my will. My tongue feels dry and thick inside of my mouth. I try to swallow, but it feels like clumps of matted dirt are filling my throat.
Stop. Please stop.
My mind pleads with the creature dragging me away from the safety of the crowd.
Stop,
I yell as loud as I can, but no words break through the invisible barrier sealing my throat shut.

“Logan…” Everything goes black.

Chapter
Ten

“L
ogan. Logan, where are you?” I yell, but the words hang like vapor in the air and dissipate into nothingness. Everything is hazy…like looking through a steamed glass at the world outside. Bits and pieces come in clearly but the more I try to focus the more they seem to blur around the edges and fade into the distance.

Looking down I see nothing but air. I try to reach my hands out but I have no hands to speak of. I am air. I look down and notice my essence is hovering over the group below me. I try to move only to be tugged forward. It’s as if I’m tethered to something I can’t pull away from. I mentally struggle to free my mind from this…whatever the hell this is, but the tug persists until I feel my essence moving toward the masculine form below.

It’s like a series of events playing, none of which I participate in or change the outcome of. I’m merely a watcher as life happens around me. I will my vision to narrow in on the person pulling me and discover its Logan. When he moves, I move. I can feel his every emotion seeping into me and sense his every thought as they race through his mind. We are somehow one and the same. I vaguely remember calling to him as the Narkarri pulled me away…my subconscious has somehow latched onto his. It’s the only explanation for this bizarre turn of events.

Logan steps out into the crisp night air and slinks along the side of the brick building. A hand motion to the team has them spreading out.

Josie, Miles, and Triston slide back into a defensive position. Logan looks up and scans the rooftops for the rest of its kind. He can smell them…as I hone in on his senses, I somehow experience everything through his eyes, mind, and body.

Thick, acrid, and pungent musk fills the air that moves through his nostrils as he breathes in quietly and exhales to steady his nerves. Logan signals to Triston, who hunkers down and pulls his bow out to take aim. Eli sidles up next to him, his sword making a slight hissing sound as he slowly pulls it from its sheath strapped to his back.

He looks over his shoulder to check on me, but I’m not there. His heart picks up its pace as he scans the faces behind him for the one person that will put his mind at ease. But I’m not among them. He looks left, right, and then left again…
no Sulwen
. I can hear his thoughts. He notices Thad hasn’t rejoined the crew, and his mind instantly settles a small degree.
Sully must be with him, disposing of the body. Smart thinking on his part, really. She’s not ready for this. Hell, I’m not ready for her to be a part of this, even though I know it’s inevitable.

He slowly turns a full circle, and I watch as Kayla heads into a dead-end alleyway. The creature follows her like he can’t wait to have a taste. His slimy tongue reaches out to run over his cracked lips as his body coils up tightly with barely restrained desire.

Kayla disappears around the corner, and it follows close behind. Before Logan can peek around the corner, to plan his point of attack, several heavy bodies land with a thump directly behind him. He whirls around and draws his sword in the same motion. A handful of moonwalkers attack the crew in the blink of an eye. A flash of silver light cascades toward his face, and I scream out…but no words escape my nonexistent lips, I am merely an observer. Logan raises his sword to deflect it just in the nick of time.
It’s on…I’m going to bathe in the blood of evil tonight,
he thinks to himself.

Arrows whiz overhead as Triston takes out several more approaching from the rooftops. Two accost Logan from his front, and he swings his sword through a midsection, pulls back, and stabs through the one advancing from behind me. Just as the one in front slices at his chest, he jumps back and slams the blunt pommel of his sword into its face. It howls in agony and drops to one knee. He raises his sword over his head and sends it downward, slicing through its neck, leaving nothing but a bloody stump behind.

A burning sensation runs across his side, but I feel it as if it was my own pain, and it draws our attention to the one on his left. Logan staggers back a bit and reaches to his side. He looks down to find his hand covered with blood.
Damn, I’m off my game tonight. I can’t keep my mind focused on the task at hand, because all it really wants right now is to find Sulwen and make sure she’s safe.

“You’re going to regret that!” he yells out as he charges toward the moonwalker. It looks a little startled by his bravado, but quickly pulls back on its dagger and takes a defensive position.

Logan’s sword meets the dagger with enough force that it is knocked clear of his adversary’s hand. It tries to reach for another blade on its thigh but Logan grips its throat and slams it into the brick building. “You sick fuck. You get off on injuring the innocent?” Logan drops his sword and reaches for his dagger with his free hand, still holding its throat with the other. Its arms pull and scratch at him trying to break free, but his grip is like a locked manacle. He squeezes harder and its motions stop as it realizes Logan’s blade is now pressed against its chest. “Why? Why are you hunting the girl?”

A bloodcurdling laugh escapes its lips as it hisses through razor sharp teeth, trying to suck in air from its constricted airways. “She is the key to the gate. Master wants her.” Its voice comes out a strained whisper. But I hear it. I hear the words that I have feared this entire time.
Now I know that they will stop at nothing to take her.
His thoughts echo my own right now.

My heart quickens as rage builds in my veins. Logan explodes with anger. “You can’t have her. I will never let you have her.” He puts his face in the moonwalker’s and shoves the blade deep into its chest. His eyes stare into the moonwalker’s as the shock of pain runs through its quivering body. “She is mine.” Logan’s venom filled words echo down the alleyway.

“…of sun and moon,” it sputters as blood flows from its mouth, “master will have her…n.n.needs her. She is k…k…” Its body falls limp in his arms, and he slings it to the ground.

All around us swords and knives clank as they meet metal and slurp as they’re pulled from wounded flesh. Logan rushes around the corner to find Kayla on top of her adversary, knees pressed deep into its chest, hand clenched around the handle of her blade as she repeatedly slashes over and over into its face, neck, and chest. Her neck and face are splattered with black body fluids that appear to be its blood, but she doesn’t pay that any mind as she hacks away at its lifeless form.

The closer I get, the clearer her voice becomes: “…bastard…you deserve…you piece of scum-sucking shit.” Logan runs to her and wraps his arms around her chest to pull her off of it. She kicks and slings her arms wildly in an attempt to pull free.

“Hush, Kayla. I’ve got you. Hush now.” Her arms fall slack at her sides, and she sinks into his arms. Logan holds her for a minute, her back to his chest, his arm lying over her chest. His sword hand shaking as the adrenaline seeps out of his body. Something wet splashes on his forearm, and he tenses, because he knows she’s going to have a moment. He squeezes her tightly to offer the only comfort he knows how when he knows she’s reliving that horrible moment from years past.
Kayla is only a hard-ass because she has a past that most people would’ve crawled in a hole and died to forget. But she’s a fighter, and no matter how shitty her attitude, you have to respect that.
The depth of sincerity he felt at that thought is of little concern to me right now as I look down on a shattered Kayla. She looks utterly spent. Even though I have never cared much for her, I find myself trying to reach out and offer her comfort.

Logan slowly releases her as her breathing resumes a normal pace. He takes a few steps back to survey the damage, his eyes running over the crimson gore before us. Bits of flesh are scattered all over the alleyway. He slides his sword back into its sheath.

“Clean this up.” He turns his back on her and walks to the connecting alley to find me.
I have to make sure she’s all right. It’s the only thing that will ease the worry I’m feeling over her being separated from me.

Chase looks up from one of the bodies as Logan walks past him. “Where are you going?” He raises a blood-coated sleeve to his face to wipe the sweat from his brow. It leaves a burnished smear as we swipes it over his forehead.

“To find Sully. Go help Kayla…she’s a little rattled.”

Chase releases a weary sigh and pushes up from his squatted position. He gives a curt nod. “No worries. I’ll take care of our girl.”

Logan keeps on walking toward the back entrance of the club.

“Logan!” He stops abruptly, runs his hand through his damp hair, and waits for what he knows Triston is going to say. His body is drawn tight with concern for me.
Fucking sick of this
, he mutters under his breath.
All of this. Night after night of endless patrols. Coming home covered with the blood of the dead I left in my wake. I’m so fucking tired. Tired of this life. I just want to hold Sulwen in my arms. Breathe in the scent that is uniquely her and revel in the warmth of her lush curves.
He closes his eyes and readies himself.

Triston’s boots make a slight splashing noise as they tread through pools of liquid sludge oozing from lifeless forms scattered throughout the bleak alley. He stops in front of Logan, forcing him to look at him. Triston’s face is as smudged with blood and dirt as are the rest of them. Blue eyes streaked with red from fatigue and stress. It’s the first time I’ve really taken notice of his worn and tired expression.
He looks as sick of all of this as I feel. We’ve been fighting the good fight for nearly a decade now, and it seems to only get worse as the years burn away like cinders in a dwindling fire.
Logan’s thoughts come across sharp, concise, and to the point. Just like the man himself.

Triston places a firm hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You must never allow that to happen again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight. You were sloppy, and it could have cost you. Could have cost all of us.” He squeezes Logan’s shoulder, gives a curt nod, and turns back to help the others as they pull the bodies next to the dumpster. Josie has lighter fluid and a Zippo in hand, ready to torch any evidence of tonight’s doings.

Kayla is chanting a concealment spell and pouring a circle of salt around the bodies.
Sometimes I forget she’s not like us
.
She’s something more. But she’s just as screwed up as the rest of us are from the toll this war has taken on us. The worst part is it hasn’t even really started.
Logan huffs and shakes his head.
We haven’t seen anything yet.

He stomps over to the door and wraps his hand around the brass handle and pulls it open. The noise from the club is nearly deafening…Logan’s discomfort is my own. He slinks along the wall and stays to the shadows. His eyes scan the bottom floor for me…
searching for her long waves of burnished brown hair. I can’t wait to slide my fingers through her mass of silken tresses.

Neon lights swirl through the haze of smoke curling from candles and incense lit throughout the joint. He squints, trying to see clearly through the haze. He’s uncomfortable, like icy claws are making their way up his spine.
Something isn’t right
. I can almost feel it when the fine hairs on his neck and arm rise in alarm, and his heart starts to beat a heavy staccato rhythm as adrenaline flashes through his veins. He clenches his fist and pushes his way through the crowd. Shoving gyrating bodies out of the way, he breaks into a jog to reach the front door. Logan passes the bewildered hostess and bursts out the front door to find the security guard slumped over in a magic-induced daze.

“
Sulwen!
” he yells, starting to run. I can sense the energy crackling over his skin as he crosses the street.
Please no. Please no. Please don’t let them have her.
I want to reach out to him, to calm his racing heart, but I’m nothing more than a breath of air flowing at his side.

Logan reaches the sidewalk across the dark street, and it suddenly occurs to me that all of the street lamps are blown, and he’s cast in an unsettling darkness. He feels it too as his hand clenches tighter around the hilt of his sword. Then he breaks into a run in the direction his heart tells him I am.
This feeling running through my bones is like none I have ever felt before…It’s consuming me. Rage. Anger. Fear. Love. Fear. Oh gods, I have never known such fear.
His mouth is dry as he breathes in and out in an excited rush. I reach for my side but realize it’s Logan’s side that aches with pain, but he shrugs it off and continues on.

Running. Running. His boots stomping out a furious beat as he races down the walk. My eyes take in everything as he blurs past parked cars and drunken pedestrians coming home from a night out.

“
Sulwen!
”
I can feel her presence like a warm cloak wrapped around my shoulders. She’s close.

He spots movement up ahead in a parking lot, and I feel his heart literally stop as he watches the Narkarri thrust my limp body into a van and hop in beside me.

“
No!
” Logan yells as loudly as he can to draw the Narkarris’ attention. His muscles burn as he pushes himself to run faster, harder.
I have to reach her
. His left hand pulls the blade from his thigh holster, and he sends it soaring straight into its neck. Its lifeless form slumps over my body. But I don’t wake, and Logan is already pulling another blade out, ready to attack.
Ten feet. Five feet. I’m nearly there.

A moonwalker leaps over the seat, just as he’s about to reach me, and slams the door shut. Tires squeal as the driver throws a heavy foot on the accelerator. Logan slams into the side of the van, shoving his blade through the metal and using it to propel himself onto the roof. He grips the luggage rack and braces himself as the van whips out of the parking lot and onto the road at a reckless speed. Horns honk and cars swerve as the driver runs through a light at the end of the street and makes a hard left onto another road.