Authors: Keri Arthur
“A police officer freed us. She told us to run up this hill.”
Relief coursed through him. Sam, surely. “She’s still down there?”
Lyssa’s blue eyes regarded him curiously. “You know her?”
“We’re working together.” As Lyssa would have known, had she actually been the shifter who’d spent the last few months at his brother’s side. He glanced at Karl. “We have to get them out of here.” Before
Kazdan came looking for them—and before Sam got caught again.
He touched Lyssa’s arm and helped her up the slope. Karl all but carried his wife—maybe the sudden relief of seeing him had sapped all her strength—and it seemed to take forever to reach the top. Gabriel bit back his impatience, his need to go find Sam, and helped Lyssa over to the car. Family came first, and Lyssa—the real Lyssa—was family.
When she was safely settled in the backseat, he closed the door and leaned on the top of the car, watching Karl help his wife into the front.
Karl met his gaze once she was in. “Thank you,” was all he said.
They’d been friends for a long time, and Gabriel knew that the simple thank-you encompassed a whole lot more—including thank you for letting me help, thank you for trusting me again. He nodded. He’d confided in Karl for nigh on ten years, trusting him with all but his brother’s secrets, and his brother had in turn trusted Karl with the one secret that mattered. Now that Karl had proven to be vulnerable to attack, they’d have to arrange for the information about Stephan to be wiped from his mind. But that didn’t mean he was no longer worthy of trust or friendship. And had the situation been reversed, had it been he in Karl’s position, he would have done exactly the same thing. Most men would have. And most men would
not
have taken the risk of bugging the blackmailers. That more than anything told him where Karl’s allegiances truly lay.
“I want you to get the rest of your family and get the hell out of Victoria. Go to New South Wales or Queensland or wherever for a while. Tell no one—not
your company, not Jan’s folks, not your folks.” He hesitated, then got out his cell phone, handing it to his friend. “I’ll call you when it’s safe to return.”
Karl took the phone and nodded. “What about Lyssa?”
“Take her with you. For now, that’s best.”
Gabriel bent and lightly tapped the window. Lyssa wound it down and studied him expectantly. “You’re not taking me to Stephan, are you?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Not till it’s safe. Stephan will kill me if I lose you now.”
“Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. Don’t believe the news reports, no matter what they say. I’ll let him contact you as soon as I can.” He shifted slightly to let Karl climb into the car. “You’re safe with Karl and his family. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
She nodded solemnly. He glanced back to Karl. “Be careful.”
“I’m not going to lose anyone else to that creep,” Karl muttered. “And you’re the one who should be careful. He seems to know an awful lot about your family and your friends.”
Gabriel nodded. As they drove away, he shape-changed, winging his way down the mountain after them to ensure they got away safely. Then he wheeled around and headed back to the camp.
Kazdan was on the move.
He saw two men carry Sam to a large white van and put her inside. Kazdan climbed in after her and the van moved off. Several other cars were lined up in the parking lot. Men scurried antlike from the buildings to the vehicles, carrying all manner of equipment. No one made any attempt to fight the fire.
Fire trucks were approaching fast, but he doubted if they’d be in time to stop the evacuation. And while he’d love to know just what Kazdan was up to in that compound, Sam had to be his first priority, because she seemed to be Kazdan’s first priority. With a flick of his wings, he headed east, after the first van.
They drove for about an hour. The wind grew stronger, buffeting his wings and carrying with it the salty tang of the sea. He studied the horizon. Beyond the dusting of house lights, beyond the trees that danced and swayed to the music of the breeze, he could see the ocean—a blanket of foam washed blue-black. They were nearing Western Port Bay.
Kazdan turned before he got to the beach road, heading inland for several miles, then finally slowing as he approached an isolated farmhouse.
Gabriel drifted closer. A familiar tingle ran through his limbs, a warning that he was approaching a changer shield. Why would they have something like that way out here? It was the sort of device used to protect military installations, not isolated farmhouses. He flicked his wings, soaring left, wondering just how large the shield was. A blue-white light speared out of the darkness below him. Before he could turn away, before he could react in any way, it hit, flaring bright against his chest.
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t fly.
All he could do was watch the approach of the ground as he plummeted toward it.
P
AIN WASHED THROUGH EVERY MUSCLE
, every cell. Sam’s whole body ached. It felt as if it were being stretched, being invaded somehow. She groaned …
and even that hurt. Her throat felt like sandpaper and was as dry as a desert. Her tongue seemed swollen and rasped harshly against the roof of her mouth.
Boot heels echoed softly against metal, coming toward her. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy they might have been weighted down by concrete. It took several attempts before she managed to open them, and even then, her vision was reduced to mere slits.
The harsh light made her blink back tears.
“I did ask if you’d do this the easy way,” Jack said, somewhere to her left. “It would have been so much better.”
The warmth had gone from his tone, leaving only harshness. Or maybe it had always been like that, and she’d never noticed it before now.
“What have you done?” Her question came out a cracked whisper. She tried to swallow, but she couldn’t. Maybe he’d sucked all the moisture away, as easily as he sucked the life from others.
“Nothing much, yet. There are plenty of tests left to try.”
He sounded almost jovial. The footsteps came closer, and then she could see him. His smile, like the light in his eyes, was one of a conqueror about to demolish his foe. Had she been able to draw enough moisture together, she would have spat at him.
“This isn’t exactly a good way to get me to help you,” she said.
His smile was serene. “By the time I’m finished with you, my friend, you’ll be begging me to let you help.”
He certainly didn’t know her very well if he thought she would ever beg. Still, the viciousness behind his words shook her. This man, this demon, called himself
her friend, yet he was more than willing to tear her apart. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I prefer to be a leader rather than a follower. Because I’m sick of pussyfooting around. And because I want a better world for my kid.” He motioned to someone beyond her line of sight. “Now, lie back and enjoy the ride.”
Like hell she would. She lashed out, trying to catch him unawares, but metal bit into her wrist, cold and hard, stopping her arm from rising any more than an inch or so. Similar metal clamps bit into her ankles and neck.
Jack laughed. “I’m not foolish enough to let you loose a second time. You’ll stay here until I’ve finished.”
“Damn you for this, Jack.” Damn him for destroying a friendship she’d held dear. Even if it was a friendship based on a lie,
she’d
believed in it.
His laugh was edged with sadness. “I was damned a long time ago, Sam. Now I must live with it the best I can.”
Heat began to creep through her fingers and toes, a tingling warmth that made her skin itch and made her heart leap uncomfortably in her chest. Then pain hit, sucking at her strength, leaching away her consciousness. Soon there was nothing but a well of darkness, and she fell into it screaming.
H
E WAS IN A BOAT
that rocked gently back and forth, a soothing sensation that failed to ease the alarms ringing in his mind, forcing him toward consciousness. The breeze pulled at his hair and cooled the warm moisture trickling down his face and back. Somewhere
above him, leaves sighed, and branches groaned under the increasing strength of the wind.
He became aware of something hard biting deep into his stomach. To his left, wood splintered—a sound not unlike the cracking of a tree branch.
Confused, wondering where the hell he was, Gabriel opened his eyes. The ground was a good twenty feet away, rising and dipping in a sickening motion.
He closed his eyes, then opened them again. No difference. He looked to his left and saw the long arm of a tree reaching toward him—and realized he was wrapped around it, arms and legs dangling on either side. That was what was biting into his gut—the shattered ends of a branch.
He twisted slightly and looked up. Smashed branches gave evidence of his descent, but the tree had undoubtedly saved his life. With the speed he’d been going, if he’d hit the ground, he surely would have died.
Somewhere off to his right, brush rustled. He stilled, listening. Something beeped, and then a voice rose from the silence like a ghost from the mist.
“I told you, I haven’t spotted a goddamn thing. You sure he came down this way?”
The silence seemed to stretch, jarring against his nerves. Then the searcher spoke again, closer this time. “Okay, okay. I’ll do another sweep.”
A man stepped into the clearing below him. Short brown hair, balding on top, and a hawklike nose. Danny Fowler, Gabriel thought, gun for hire. Danny had disappeared from the circuit five or six months ago, and like everyone else, Gabriel had presumed Danny’s violent past finally caught up with him. But if he was now working for Kazdan, then something big was going down. Fowler was a loner from way back.
He watched Fowler walk across the clearing and disappear into the thick shrub. After several seconds of silence, he grabbed the tree branch and flipped his legs over. Wood caught at his stomach, tearing deep gashes. More pain flared across his shoulders as his arms took the brunt of his weight. The tree branch dipped slightly, and the crack of wood splintering echoed across the silence, as sharp as a gunshot. Cursing softly, he dropped to the ground, landing catlike, his fingertips digging into the dirt to steady himself. Hot lances of fire shot up the backs of his legs, and moisture began to run down his spine. He ignored both, listening. Shrubs moved to his left. He ducked behind the trunk of the gum that had saved his life.
Fowler reentered the clearing, his gun—a standard laser rifle—raised, and his beady eyes narrowed as he sighted. He studied the clearing for several seconds, then relaxed and glanced up at the tree. Even from where Gabriel crouched, it was easy to see the understanding dawn in Fowler’s eyes. He had to act now, while he still had the advantage of surprise.
He launched himself at Fowler. The short man aimed and fired. The shot hissed through the air, burned past Gabriel’s ear and hit the tree trunk. But Fowler didn’t have time for a second shot, because Gabriel was on him, tackling him to the ground and forcing the weapon out of his grip. Fowler cursed and punched, his blows landing thick and fast. Pain rolled through Gabriel, but he ignored the blows raining on his body, and, with as much force as he could muster, chopped his hand down on Fowler’s windpipe. Fowler was dead before he knew what was happening.
Gabriel blew out a breath, climbed off Fowler’s body, and patted him down. There was a knife strapped to
his left wrist and a small two-way in his right jacket pocket. He took the knife, squashed the two-way under his heel and stripped off Fowler’s jacket. Then he tore off the bloody remnants of his own shirt and dragged the body into the bushes.
Using what was left of his shirt, he wiped the blood off his stomach and back. The wounds on his stomach were a good quarter of an inch deep each, and oozing steadily. He could also feel a warm stickiness across his back and down the side of his face. Trophies from his descent through the tree, no doubt. There wasn’t anything he could do about the bleeding right now, other than hope there were no feline shapechangers in the immediate area; they’d smell his scent a mile off. He tossed the bloodied shirt on top of Fowler’s body and covered both with leaf litter.
After pulling on Fowler’s jacket and zipping it up, he grabbed the rifle and checked the laser’s charge. Nearly full. Good. He turned and made his way to the bushes where Fowler had first appeared. A faint path wound its way through the trees, heading down the hillside.
He followed it carefully, listening intently to the sigh of the wind, alert for any hint of pursuit or discovery. He was halfway down the hillside when several buildings became visible through the trees below. Squatting, he studied them. They looked like part of an everyday farm, only this farm had a helicopter pad, complete with a silver bird. It also had a sentry guarding the entrance to its driveway. The slight shimmer in the air near the guard’s box suggested the gates themselves were an energy field.
As he watched, a car pulled up to the guard’s box. The car’s windows were tinted so dark it was impossible
to see the driver, meaning the passenger was possibly a vampire. The sentry walked across, talking to the driver for several minutes. Then he stepped back, and the shimmer of energy died.
The car drove on and came to a stop near the front porch. A woman climbed out, then hesitated, her gaze searching the hillside.
Mary
, Gabriel thought, surprised. Mary, who was supposed to be a vampire and yet was standing there in the full sunlight. She turned, studying the trees in which he hid. Perhaps she’d sensed his presence. She’d always been intuitive that way.
After several seconds, she headed for the front door and disappeared inside.
He continued down the hill. As he neared the fence, energy zipped across his skin, as sharp as a knife. He picked up a rock near his feet and gently tossed it forward. One foot away from the fence line, there was a sharp whine, then a flash of white light, and the rock shattered. The remaining dust drifted to the ground. He picked up another rock, this time aiming far higher. The result was the same.