Night Unbound (32 page)

Zach frowned. “Won't they find the tracking device in the meantime?”

“It's a risk we'll have to take,” Seth murmured. “Their minds will yield no information. And moving in now and killing them will net us nothing.”

Nevertheless, it didn't sit well with Zach.

“Was that why you wanted to see us?” Seth asked Chris.

“No. I need to show you something. Darnell, can I use your laptop?”

Darnell opened a laptop on the corner of David's desk and, moving some medical texts aside, slid it toward the center.

Chris circled the desk and stood beside David. Pulling a small metal device from his briefcase, he connected it to the computer and began dragging his finger across the smooth touchpad on the keyboard.

Seth waved Zach forward.

Zach joined them behind the desk.

David sat up straighter as the blood went to work restoring his strength.

The image on the computer screen changed from a tranquil Zen garden to what appeared to be a hallway in network headquarters. Zach had visited the network several times during his stint as “Temporary Seth” and recognized it as the fifth sublevel.

Chris straightened. “I've been pouring over surveillance video, wanting to see if Cliff ventured anywhere else he shouldn't have while he was off swiping the tracking devices.”

“Did he?” Seth asked.

“No. Here's the video, in slow motion, taken from every camera he passed on his foray.” He pressed a button on the keyboard.

Zach watched the blurry, indistinct form (which moved too quickly for the camera to catch clearly) zip from the fifth sublevel up to the room the tracking devices were stored in on the fourth floor. Once the vampire pocketed the devices, he raced back to the fifth sublevel, making no other stops.

Chris pressed a key and paused the video just as a shot of the lobby appeared. “I wanted to make sure he didn't make any other excursions later on, so I kept looking and found this.” He pressed the key again, restarting the video.

The lobby was decorated in shades of gray, the only color provided by potted peace lilies. The central focus of the camera was a large granite-topped security desk. Half a dozen guards sat behind it, their eyes fastened to monitors hidden from view. A few yards beyond them, over a dozen more guarded elevator doors.

A tall figure, garbed in a long black coat, suddenly appeared in front of the security desk.

The men behind it jumped and reached for their weapons.

Before they could draw them, the figure waved a hand.

The guards' expressions went blank. They retook their seats, their posture relaxed.

One of the guards nodded and spoke to the figure.

“The cameras don't record audio,” Chris mentioned apologetically.

The dark figure strolled over to one of the elevators. The guards there didn't appear to see him.

The doors slid open. The figure stepped inside.

The scene cut to surveillance footage of the elevator.

The figure kept his head turned away from the camera. Bearing the dark hair, height, and build common among immortal males, this man could have been any of them.

The video cut from scene to scene, following the mysterious figure to a room full of file cabinets.

“He stayed in the records room for the longest,” Chris said, “always keeping his face turned away from the camera.” The video sped up, showing the immortal pulling out this drawer or that and removing file folders.

Seth leaned forward and planted his hands on David's desk. “He isn't even
trying
to hide his presence. If he were, he would be doing all of this at preternatural speeds to avoid being videotaped or having it show up on the security monitors.”

“He didn't have to,” Chris said. “None of the guards have any recollection of encountering him. None saw anything unusual on the surveillance cameras. So none of us would have ever looked at this footage twice if Cliff hadn't stolen the tracking devices.”

Zach caught Seth's eye. “Mind control? Memory wipes?”

“Had to be either one or the other.”

The figure returned to the first floor and traveled down a hallway Zach hadn't seen before, all of Zach's visits having taken him below. The figure waved a hand, bypassing security locks each time he encountered them, and ultimately entered a swanky, modern office.

“Where is he now?” Zach asked.

“My office,” Chris said, his jaw clenching. “He must have known where all of the other cameras were located by reading the guards' minds because he missed a couple here. There are hidden cameras in my office that only
I
know about.”

The immortal crossed to a row of tall file cabinets that lined one wall and began to draw out files. Upon finding whatever he sought, he turned and leaned a shoulder against the cabinets while he perused the papers.

Whatever camera Chris had hidden caught a perfect image of the immortal's face.

“Aidan,” Seth said.

David swore.

Chris eyed them with sympathy. “Looks like we've found your traitor.”

“I don't understand,” Seth muttered. “All this because I wouldn't transfer him to North Carolina? I know I told Lisette it was possible, but . . .”

Brooding silence.

“You already knew he was hiding something from you,” Zach mentioned.

“Lisette was hiding something from me, too, and look how badly I misjudged
her.
” Seth straightened. “I don't want to make the same mistake twice.” He looked at Zach. “Or thrice. I misjudged you, as well.”

Zach snorted. “I don't count. Even
I
would have suspected me.”

“
I
sure as hell did,” David added.

Seth shook his head. “Aidan is damned near as even-tempered as David. It just seems out of character for him to . . . to do something so heinous.”

Chris motioned to the laptop. “The proof is indisputable. If memory wipes damage brains, he just damaged the brains of several of my men to keep them from remembering his little visit.” And Chris was pissed.

“If Aidan feels I've wronged him,” Seth demanded, “why not come after
me?
Why endanger
all
Immortal Guardians by raising this vampire army?”

“Because he knows your weakness,” David murmured. “We
all
know your weakness.”

Seth turned to him.

David's expression gentled. “Everyone knows the surest way to hurt you is to harm one of your Immortal Guardians.”

“
One
of my Immortal Guardians. This threatens you all. This threatens humans, as well. If vampires were to gain the upper hand . . .”

He didn't have to finish.

“Has any immortal ever gone crazy from too much solitude?” Chris asked.

Seth shook his head. “Never. One of the reasons I started assigning Seconds to immortals in the first place, aside from knowing they needed someone to guard them and take care of business for them during daylight hours, was to keep immortals from leading too solitary an existence. I wanted them to have friends and companions to help keep the loneliness at bay.”

Roland spoke in the infirmary. “I went hundreds of years without having a Second, and
I
didn't go crazy.” He must have been listening. “But there's a big difference between insanity and bitterness. Bitterness can spawn a madness all its own . . . as you well know, Seth, having walked me back from that edge a few times over the centuries.”

Seth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zach.”

“What?”

“Can you capture Aidan and incarcerate him at network headquarters?”

“Yes.”

“On your own?”

“Yes.”

“Without killing him?”

“If I must.”

“Then do it. If I did it myself and he were to fight me . . .” He sighed. “I don't have as much control over my powers when I'm this weary and don't want to inadvertently kill him before I can interrogate him.”

Zach wasn't nearly as tired as Seth and suspected he would have a hard time reining himself in, too. He wanted the bastard dead in the worst way now that he knew Aidan was guilty. He turned to Chris. “Can you do anything to prevent Aidan from freeing himself by using mind control on the guards and getting them to unlock his prison door once he's in custody at the network?”

“Yes,” Chris responded. “Teleport me there now and give me a couple of hours. I'll have my guys weld the door of one of the holding rooms closed so the guards won't be able to free him even if they want to.”

“What's to keep him from teleporting out?” Zach asked.

Chris swore. “Can you sedate him when you capture him?”

“Yes.”

Seth spoke up. “Use the same dosage the new vampires used on Lisette. Even as old as he is, it should knock him out for a day or two. Have Melanie prepare an auto-injector for you before you leave.”

“I'll do it now,” Zach said.

“No, let her rest a little longer. Chris needs the extra time to weld the door shut anyway. And chain Aidan with the strongest chains available. If he should awaken earlier than we expect and is chained, he won't be able to teleport without taking the whole damned building with him.”

“Oh, I'll chain him.” Dark anticipation rose within Zach. “Trust me. He won't escape. As soon as Chris calls me and lets me know they're ready for him, I'll bring his ass in.”

“Don't kill him,” Seth reiterated.

“I won't,” Zach promised.

He never said he wouldn't hurt him.

Aidan sat in darkness. Alone. Waiting.

He had sent his Second on a series of errands that would keep him away until sunrise, so the modest home they shared was quiet.

Aidan knew what was coming.

Or
who
was coming.

The soft leather of his favorite wingback chair, worn smooth by the many hours he had spent in it over the decades, creaked as he slid his booted foot off his knee and planted both feet on the floor.

His arms rested upon those of the chair, his hands dangling over the ends.

Aside from the beating of his own heart and the nearly undetectable rustle of his clothing as his chest rose and fell with each breath, no sound infringed upon the night.

Quiet, once a balm, now pricked him like needles.

He had to force himself to remain still, to suppress the desire to pace. To rage. To commit violence.

Someone had been inside his home.

He had known the instant he had awoken. Someone had been inside his home
and
inside his head.

Aidan had found a single drop of blood on his pillow. Had felt something . . . off in his mind. In his thoughts. And he'd known.

Only one immortal could've entered his home without alerting Aidan's Second. Only one immortal could've then forced Aidan into a virtual coma while he dynamited the walls Aidan had erected in his mind, prowled around, and stole memories that didn't belong to him.

Seth. Leader of the Immortal Guardians.

Once a friend.

A friend no longer.

Aidan's fingers curled over the ends of the chair arms and gripped the leather.

He had heard that some hitherto unknown immortal had been fielding Seth's calls for the past couple of days. Rumors had been flying over why.
And
over the mysterious immortal's identity. Apparently he was ancient. Yet no immortal had ever heard of him.

Aidan didn't know the who, but—unlike the others—he didn't have to speculate on the why. Seth knew. He knew an immortal had betrayed him and, like a bloodhound, had been sniffing out the culprit.

Aidan didn't know why Seth hadn't confronted him after scouring his damned brain. Something must have called him away. Perhaps the mortal woman, Ami, whom Seth had come to love like a daughter. Rumors abounded over her, too. But Aidan didn't concern himself with such.

Seth knew.

And, when he returned, there would be a reckoning.

Aidan tensed as he abruptly heard the heartbeat of another.

His eyes pierced the darkness, his vision sharper than a cat's, yet failed to find the elder.

He rose. “I know you're there. You may as well show yourself.”

The silence stretched, broken only by that slow, steady heartbeat.

“Seth . . .”

The air stirred. A fist plowed into Aidan's face, striking him so hard that Aidan flew backward and went through the wall behind him. A shadow, moving so quickly that even Aidan couldn't see him clearly, poured through the gaping hole he had created and delivered another blow. And another.

Aidan fought with nearly three thousand years of training at his back and barely managed to land a punch. It was like trying to fight a tornado.

Fingers wrapped around his throat, lifted him, and slammed him down so hard the wooden floor buckled and Aidan damned near fell through to the first floor.

As Aidan lay there, choking on the blood pouring down his throat from loose teeth and his broken nose, his assailant's face swam into view.

Shock seized him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he wheezed.

 

 

Zach stared down at the traitor, wanting so badly to kill him,
needing
so badly to kill him.

This bastard was responsible for Lisette's nearly dying.

Rage burned his stomach like acid as Zach leaned in close and gripped Aidan by the throat. “I'm the dog Seth sicced on you.”

The room around him fell away as Aidan teleported them to a darkened mountain range.

Zach's hold didn't loosen. “Anywhere you teleport, you take me with you, dumb ass.”

Aidan fought harder, using telekinesis to hurl large stones and other objects at Zach, as he pried at the fingers closing off his air.

Zach merely tightened his grip.

Aidan teleported them again, this time to a sunny vale.

Warmth washed over Zach's back . . . which remained unblemished. Minutes passed while Zach continued to choke Aidan, fending off his blows and repaying them with many of his own. Eventually Aidan began to sunburn.

Zach didn't and saw the surprise in the younger immortal's eyes. “That's right, asshole. Like Seth, I'm impervious to daylight.”

Aidan returned them to his home.

A dagger leapt from a stand on the wall and slid into Aidan's grip. Aidan slashed at Zach and managed to draw blood before Zach closed his hand around Aidan's on the dagger and made Aidan stab himself in the arm.

Furniture shattered as the struggle continued, Aidan taking nearly all of the damage.

Zach had a
lot
of anger to burn.

“Where's Seth?” Aidan gritted.

“Seth was furious enough that he feared he might kill you, so he sent me in his stead.” Tired of playing, Zach pinned Aidan in place with a powerful telekinetic push.

Aidan's eyes widened.

Zach sneered down at him. “How I wish I could kill you myself.” He drew an auto-injector from his back pocket. “Or maim you in ways the virus can't heal. Let you suffer as others have suffered because of your perfidy. Alas, it isn't my fucking place to do so.”

Zach jabbed the auto-injector into Aidan's neck with more force than necessary.

Just as Lisette had, the immortal instantly went limp.

Wrapping a towel around herself sarong-style, Lisette looked up from tucking the end between her breasts as the bedroom door swung open.

Zach strode in, clad in his usual leather pants and boots.

She smiled. “Damn, you look good.”

He grinned. “I
feel
good now that I'm with you.” Halting, he swore and closed the door behind him.

“What?”

“I missed it.”

“Missed what?”

“You. Naked in the shower. Water cascading down over your soft-as-silk skin and skimming off the tips of your bewitching breasts.” His eyes began to glow as a noticeable bulge rose behind his zipper.

Lisette started toward him, then noticed his bruised and bloodied hands, the red smears on his arms and chest. “Zach! What have you done now?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips.

“Moi?”
he asked, his expression as innocent as a choirboy's. Until he followed her gaze to the blood. “Oh.” He winced. “Right. That.”

She rolled her eyes. (Was this how Melanie felt, constantly having to deal with Bastien's crazy antics?) “Explain.”

“We found him.”

“Found whom?”

“The immortal who has betrayed us.”

Lisette didn't let him see how thrilled she was to hear him include himself in the Immortal Guardian family. “Was it Aidan?”

“Yes.”

“You read his mind?”

“We didn't have to. Reordon has surveillance tape of Aidan breeching network headquarters, using mind control on the guards, wiping memories—”

“
Merde!
”

“—and helping himself to confidential files in both the records room and Reordon's private office.”

They had known an immortal had betrayed them, had even suspected Aidan, but . . . it still confounded.

“What happened? What did you do?”

“Seth asked me to capture him and incarcerate him at the network.”

She looked pointedly at his hands, which finished healing even as she spoke. “And you—what?—scraped your knuckles on the doorframe on your way in?”

“I might have kicked his ass a little first.”

“Zach—”

His face darkened. One second he stood by the door; the next he loomed over her, his eyes glowing with rage. “He hurt you.”

“He wasn't even there the night—”

“He has probably been culling information from the network for weeks. Perhaps months. And he used that information to up the dosage of the sedative so it would bring you to the brink of death.”

An experience she never wished to repeat. “So you kicked his ass.”

“And wanted to kill him so badly I could taste it,” he growled. “I wanted him to pay, Lisette. I wanted him to pay in blood. I wanted to do to him what the Others did to me.”

Biting her lip, she leaned forward and raised her arms to embrace him.

Zach backed away before she could. “Hold that thought. I need to wash his filth off me.” He vanished. Water began to flow.

Lisette turned to face the bathroom. Through the open door, she saw steam rising inside the shower as soapsuds flew.

The cascade of water ceased. Zach stepped out and grabbed a towel.

Not even a full minute had passed.

He met her gaze. Blurred. Then slowed and tossed the damp towel on the counter beside the sink. Naked, aroused, his gaze a brilliant gold, he strode toward her. “Drop the towel.”

The towel hit her feet. Lisette was so entranced by the heat pouring off of him and the sight of his leanly muscled body as he drew closer that she wasn't sure if
she
had released the towel or if Zach had used telekinesis to rid her of it.

Stopping inches away, he drew his knuckles down her cheek. “I believe you once promised to ride me hard?” He quirked a brow.

Lisette grinned. “I believe you're right.”

Lifting her up so she could straddle his waist, he fell backward onto the bed.

 

 

The sound that bubbled up from Lisette as she tumbled down on top of him could only be described as a giggle. To hear such a happy, youthful sound emerge from her after two centuries of guilt and weariness and violence and know that
he
had coaxed it forth meant the world to Zach.

Her long raven tresses, which she must have blown dry just before he had arrived, spilled down around them in a midnight curtain as she straddled him and settled her core directly over his erection. Hunger rose, as did the desire to feel her warm, slick walls enfolding him and squeezing him tight.

He settled his hands on her thighs, every muscle tightening with need.

She braced her hands on his chest, her lovely eyes shining amber as she gazed down at him. Humor faded. Her smile turned wicked. She toyed with his nipples, gave them a pinch, then curled her hands into claws and drew her nails lightly down his chest and abdomen and—
shit!
—it felt good.

Pulse pounding in his ears, he slid his hands around to cup her ass and lifted his hips to grind against her.

Lisette moaned, her eyes closing as her head fell back. She rocked against him, already wet, gliding along his length and driving him mad.

He slid his hands up and cupped her breasts. Squeezed. Kneaded. Teased her nipples with his thumbs before he delivered little pinches.

She gasped and covered his hands with her own.

“Take me inside you,” he rasped. “I need you.”

She stared down at him, eyes blazing with desire. “I need you, too.” Rising above him, she reached between them and curled her fingers around his aching cock. Now
she
squeezed and stroked and played and tormented.

“Lisette,” he gritted when he could take no more.

Guiding him to her entrance, she lowered herself down on him, inch by slow, torturous inch. So hot and wet and tight. Until they were fused together, breath held.

Her hands found their way to his chest again as she began to move, holding his gaze as she rode him. First slow and easy. Then faster. Harder. Stealing his breath as his hands roamed her. Explored her. Fondling her breasts, her ass, her thighs. Then sliding in between. He teased her clit with his thumbs, stroking her in time with her movements and luring little cries from her that fired his blood even more.

She stiffened above him. Calling his name. Nails digging into his chest as her slick walls clamped down and spasmed around him, milking him until he came with a roar.

Her light weight collapsed atop him. Her warm breath bathed his chest as her pulse—racing as fast as his own—fought its frantic pace and began to slow.

Quiet embraced them. The calm after the storm.

“Why couldn't I have found you two hundred years ago when you were first made immortal,” he murmured, and felt her smile against his chest.

Sliding his hands down over her ass, Zach raised his head and buried his lips in the hair above her ear. “I want to try something,” he whispered.

Her heartbeat picked up again. “Okay.”

For days, he had been contemplating introducing telekinesis to their lovemaking. But he hadn't been certain how she might react. Now, with her body pliant against his, her warmth still embracing his hardness, he thrust his hips up against hers and telekinetically stroked all of her erogenous zones at once with the speed and force of a vibrator.