Prince of Shadows (4 page)

“You coming?” Gabby said over her shoulder by the main doors of the cafeteria, pulling him from the chest-tightening memories.

Valin realized that a pathway had opened up before him. Well, almost; he still had to step around the gun-loving Aaron. Ignoring the itch in his shoulders that came with turning his back on potential danger, he did.

Gabby had already left by the time he made it to the other side of the cafeteria, the heavy doors swinging back and practically hitting him in the face.

Little chit. If he wasn't so happy to see her he'd want to wring her neck.

Despite the fact he'd been pretty convinced it was her the other day, he still couldn't believe he was here with her now. In a weird sort of surreal daze, he followed her as she turned off the main hall down a smaller side one, then stood drinking her in as she paused to open a door at the end. What he didn't like is what he saw. Those were no socks filling out that bra. These were the curves her younger body had promised. And though she was still petite, the lean muscles over the rest of her had similarly matured, firming at some point into textured hardness.

Gabby was aging. That was no makeup job the other night and not the harsh lighting that had chiseled the youth from her face. And those were actual lines—though faint—that fanned the corner of her eyes as she shut the door, flipped on the light, and turned her full-fledged glare on him.

“What the hell has happened to you?” he demanded, noticing how limp and flat her normally lustrous red hair looked in the light.

“And hello to you too. I'd say you look well, but it might further inflate your ego and spin you off into the atmosphere.”

And tired. Pale and tired. And were those dark circles under her eyes? God, what had she been doing? Or maybe the better question was what
hadn't
she been doing?

“Are you feeding enough?” he demanded.

She flashed her fangs, letting her eyes drift to his throat. “Every chance I get.”

“Really?” He grabbed his shirt, stretching the neckline and exposing his throat. “Then go ahead, cookie.”

She hissed, fear skittering in her eyes as she clamped her jaw tight and turned her head away, though not before Valin saw the flare of red in her black pupils.

Fuck, yeah, she was hungry. Hell, the air was so heavy with the pheromones she was putting off, he could practically taste her need. And what do you know, that was his second brain rising to attention. He tried telling it that it was simply a vampire's nature to equate feeding with sex, but the damn thing didn't give a shit. All it knew was that they'd been reunited with their mate, and that, holy hallelujah, their mate no longer lived in a body that could be considered jailbait. Far from it.

“Gabby…” He reached for her, wanting to soothe her obvious agitation, but she skirted away, dodging behind the metal desk butted against the wall in front of the cot, clenching the edge of it as if it were a lifeline…or like she might grab it up and toss it at him.

“I don't feed from humans…or Paladin,” she quickly tagged on as if she expected him to toss out that argument.

“Where are you getting your blood from then?”

“None of your business.”

“Gabby, everything with you is my business,” he told her, rather proud of how he managed to keep the agitation out of his voice. Didn't she feel it too? Or, fuck, was he the only one suffering here with the need to claim his mate?

She looked at him straight on, her dark pupils that couldn't decide between black or crimson narrowed. “In your dreams.”

“Exactly.” He smiled, taking a step toward the desk.

She eyed him warily, but he couldn't miss how her pulse skittered at the base of her throat or how her breathing had sped up.

Not
so
indifferent
to
me, are you, cookie?

She cleared her throat. “What was so vital that you had to track me down here, anyway? Is Roland okay?”

“He's fine.”

“Karissa?”

“She's fine too. They're all fine.” Well, except perhaps Logan, but that was half the point of why he'd put so much effort into finding her now rather than waiting for another chance encounter. Logan's tragedy had been a real wake-up call for Valin. Not that he should've needed it. Not when he'd experienced for himself firsthand how fleeting life, love, and happiness could be.

“Then why are you here?” she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.

“To see you, of course.” And to claim her. But that came later. Much later. First he was going to find out what the heck she'd been doing to make herself look so ill and then fix it. And he'd start with her most current need: blood.

“Did you ever think that maybe that desire wasn't reciprocated?” she asked snidely.

“I admit I've had my doubts. Especially when you keep treating me to the view of your lovely backside.” He angled his head, leaning a bit to see around the desk and check out her luscious ass. When he looked back at her face he swore she was blushing. Hard to tell for sure with how pale she was. “Why is that, by the way? It's certainly not any way to treat a guy who went through so much trouble to see you safe.”

“You…see me safe. How is that? Seems to me that you're putting me in danger by coming here. Putting us all in danger, if Logan's daddy finds out about this place.”

“You don't remember the mines?” he asked, eating up another couple feet of distance between them.

“Of course I remember the mines.”

“You left awfully quick after we rescued Karissa.” And another step.

“Hello? Logan? Getting ready to let loose his little heavenly light bomb? Remember that too?”

“Exactly.” He leaned forward over the desk and tipped his head close enough so that his breath caressed the side of her face as he spoke into her ear. “I searched for you. Practically tore those caves apart trying to find some sign of you. Four months I've wondered, hoped that you were out there. Prayed that you were safe.”

She swallowed, shifting back from the desk closer to the cot. “You've come. You've seen that I'm all right. I want you to leave now.”

“Leave? Like hell.” There was no way he'd be leaving now that he'd found her. Nor was he going to let her escape again either. He made to step around the desk, determined to close up the distance once more. She leapt on the bed, hands splayed against the wall behind her. Her eyes had gone full crimson now, the green iris thinning to less than a sliver of a line. Her fangs had also elongated, the sharp tips slicing into her bottom lip as she strained to keep her mouth closed.

He took another step toward her, determined to ease her pain, when her voice in his mind brought him up short.

<>

The plea, powerful and filled with so much pain and desperation it made his knees threaten to buckle, had him fisting his hands so hard his knuckles ached. He couldn't leave her like this. It hurt his stomach just to look at her and see what she'd allowed to happen to herself. What must her own stomach feel like?

He pulled out his blade. She immediately recoiled, hissing as she dove for the set of knives neatly stashed on a shelf above her cot.

“What the fuck, Gabby. Do you really think I would use this on you?”

The look she gave him killed him. Yes, she did. It was a toss-up between what he felt more keenly—the anger that made his blood run hot or the hurt that put a vise around his heart.

He lifted the knife, balancing it at the point between hilt and blade so she could get a good look at it. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was, not just any knife but one of
His
knives. For a brief moment the fires banked enough that her pupils looked more like hot coals than fire, her mouth opening slightly in awe.

“This blade will never be used to harm you, only to defend you. Even if I have to defend you from yourself.” With a sharp movement he snapped his hand back around the hilt and drew the knife across the inside of his forearm, laying a shallow slice in the skin above his wrist.

She followed the movement, her tongue dipping out to lick her lips as his blood welled up to bead along his cut flesh. He held his breath, waiting for her hunger to outweigh her reservations. It took less time than he thought it might, but more than he hoped. Nearly a full minute of his blood slowly welling, seeping down his arm, and then dripping to the floor. He was afraid that with his accelerated healing, he might have to slice his arm again to reopen the cut, when she finally stepped off the cot, her gaze locked on his slight wound.

He knew he took a chance. She was a vampire. And he knew nothing of what might have formed the dark taint on her soul after their meeting in the mine. It was more than possible that she'd killed. That she'd starved herself to the point of desperation and then lost control. He could see it happening. The girl vamp who had felt such shame over being force-fed blood through an IV might be lost to darkness if she ever took and killed a human.

But he wasn't human. And he could stop her if she tried to take too much. He
would
stop her, and then he'd do whatever it took to purify the darkness that had sunk its slick teeth into her.

She took his arm, her hands gentle, tentative even as she started to lift it to her mouth. Her touch was like a punch to the gut. His dick, which still hadn't gotten the message that it wasn't part of this reunion, kicked against the front of his pants, liquid weeping from the tip.

Her head jerked up, nostrils flaring as she scented his arousal, and damn if he couldn't taste the air thickening with her own.

“Yes, Gabby. Take my blood.”
And
then
take
me. Let me be what you need. I need you to need me as I do you.

He didn't project the thought, but somehow she must have heard. Either that or his spoken words had simply snapped her out of her bloodlust. She immediately dropped his hand, her fangs biting through her own lip as she took a step back, shaking her head.

“Shit. I'm screwing this up, aren't I?”

Her gaze darted to the door, and his own followed. No way, no way in hell was she running again.

“Fuck, Gabby, don't you dare…” But it was too late; fast as he was she was faster as she dodged around him to beat him to the door.

Well, this mission's botched up,
Bennett thought, warily eyeing the guards surrounding him. The orders from the council regarding the band of part-blood humans who'd broken into Haven last week had been crystal clear. Use any means necessary to track down the gifted humans to their base: check. Determine if there is enough untapped power in their group beyond the null that could make them a potential liability to the secrecy and safety of the Paladin mission: uh…potentially, yes. If so, determine the likelihood of the peaceful relocation of the group into Haven's protective walls: un-bloody-likely.

Contact may've been made, but the pathways of communication had been shut tight before they could even get started. Jacob hadn't wanted to discuss anything to do with the null named Annie or her training. And the discussion hadn't even made it as far as relocating her or the dozens of other gifted here in need of training. The cafeteria was practically brimming with power. He could tell because he was getting a bleeding headache trying to keep his shields strong and steady, and even then emotions were slipping in right and left. Unease, distrust, curiosity, anger, and fear—it was all there. The one person who wasn't there was their leader, Jacob. Six minutes ago, and maybe, what, three after Valin's own disappearance, another soldier had shown up, whispered something in the scarred man's ear that had his face turning purple, and sent him bolting out of the room. Bennett just hoped it didn't have anything to do with Valin.

Bloody prat. He was part of the reason this mission was going down the shite-twirler. Valin obviously had other plans than making contact. Or rather, he'd only planned to make contact with one person. The question was why?

Only one way to find out.

Bennett eased up on his shields, trying to pinpoint the exact emotions of the handful of guards who'd been left to monitor him. Most of them, along with their mix of curiosity and annoyance, were actually edging on bored after almost ten minutes of tense inaction. And Aaron, the bloke Jacob had left in charge, was distinctly distracted—had been since Valin left with the mysterious Gabriella, actually. Gabriella the vampire, who, oh, was part-succubus too. WTF?

“Mind if we take a gander? Find my mate?” Bennett asked.

Aaron drew his gaze away from the door, blinking at him. “What?”

“Valin, my mate. I'd like to try and find him if it's not too much trouble.”
You
know, so I can wring the bastard's neck.
He didn't add that. United we stand, divided we fall, and all that bloody crap.

Aaron hesitated, then meeting the gaze of an African American soldier, he jerked his head toward the door. “Keon, come with us. The rest of you, why don't you go help my brother track down Annie?”

The other soldiers immediately took off, leaving Bennett reeling at the ease of getting rid of most of his guards. Aaron didn't look old enough to elicit such obedience—early twenties maybe?—nor did he have the same calm confidence his older brother did. So either sharing DNA held a lot of weight here or this Aaron was simply off his stride today.

Probably
the
whole
Gabriella
bit. He definitely didn't shine to the fact that she went off with Valin…alone.

At least Bennett knew why Jacob had gone running now. Bennett would pity the null, Annie, but he suspected the hard-ass warrior had a soft spot for family. And if he was any good judge of genetic expression, both Jacob and Aaron here were blood relations to the null. Tall as giants, whiskey-brown eyes, high cheekbones, stubborn jawlines and all.

Aaron turned to Keon. “Shoot him if he so much as twitches wrong.”

Keon nodded solemnly, then gestured with his rifle for Bennett to follow Aaron.

“Aren't you buggers so bleeding sweet,” Bennett muttered and fell into line. What was it his mate Logan would say about this? Oh, right, what a major FUBAR: fucked up beyond all recognition. Or was that repair? He guessed it didn't matter; it amounted to the same thing. Of course, it couldn't be a total loss. So far they weren't dead.

His hopes of staying that way ended, though, when they rounded the next corner. At the far end of the narrow hall, a naked Valin was facing off with the missing Annie. The look on Valin's face did not bode well; neither did the redhead's cocky pose.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Valin warned.

She smiled, cracking her knuckles. “No.”

Bloody fucking hell. That wasn't going to go over well, and sure enough, Valin decided to make her. Valin spun, sweeping out his leg, probably going on the assumption that the bigger they were the harder they fell. Only Annie didn't fall; she jumped into the attack, tackling Valin. She threw a couple punches that Valin blocked. And then they both sprung back to their feet, same sides of the hall, only this time the face-off had been foregone for a good ole downright boxing session.

“Annie!” Aaron charged. Behind Bennett, he sensed Keon tense, his rifle rising to shoulder level.

“Shite.” There
were
things worse than a FUBAR. Things like this. Bennett crouched, swiping a leg out and grabbing for the rifle in Keon's hands. Despite Keon's quick initial reaction, the soldier must have been as shocked by what was occurring down the hall as Bennett was, because it was like filching candy from a babe. A split second was all it took for the man to go down, the rifle settling nicely into Bennett's grip as he bolted after Aaron. Multitasking, he ejected the magazine, clearing the slug from the chamber as he ran. When he was close enough he chucked the whole thing and on a push of adrenaline leapt for Aaron's legs. Aaron went sprawling and, jammy bastard that Valin was, didn't shoot the naked Paladin or anyone else on his way to the linoleum.

Probably
worried
he'd hit Annie.

Scrambling over the pissed Aaron, Bennett stomped the handgun out of the soldier's hand and kicked the Glock away, dashing for the two toddlers playing at war. And that's all it really was—play—because even with the height advantage and the fact that she was actually pretty damn competent, Bennett knew from experience that Valin was a damn sight better. He was pissed. He wanted past. And Annie was stubborn enough not to let him. Thankfully the idiot was at least brilliant enough to know better than to actually harm a lady.

Didn't change the fact that he'd initiated a fight with her.

“Valin, you right piece of shite. Give over, will ya?” Bennett yelled as he forced his way into the barrage of slap downs and blocks. Of course, in doing so he got a nice kick to the outer thigh from the redhead and a fucking fist to the face by Valin, but he figured it was worth it if they all got out of this without any holes.

That stated, the injuries pissed the crap out of him. Bennett smashed a left jab right back at Valin's face. Bugger was too fast and tried to dodge, but Bennett had anticipated and caught him with his right forearm across the throat, driving him into the wall.

“Cor blimey, Valin! What is wrong with you?”

“She got in my way!”

“She's a bloody girl!”

And those were two very pissed-off men who were up and collecting their weapons again. Could this mission get any worse?

Valin's jaw worked, the muscle spasming along it as he drew in deep breaths through his nose.

“Well? What is it, mate? You got a good reason for this? 'Cause if not I might just go help Keon there put his rifle back together.”

Valin closed his eyes, rapping his head against the wall behind him. “Fuck.” When he opened his eyes again the anger had faded, and for the first time Bennett could sense the pulse of frustration and despair riding his fellow Paladin.

Annie had pulled back in her gift some. Enough for Valin to probably ghost if he wanted. The fact that he didn't said the Paladin might have his head screwed on again.

“What is it?” he asked, easing off a bit. Valin shook his head, removing Bennett's arm with his hand.

“I'm sorry.” Valin directed the apology over Bennett's shoulder to Annie. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“As if,” Annie scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Aaron obviously didn't give a shite about whether she was hurt or not. He'd retrieved his gun and had stepped forward, lifting it so it was uncomfortably close to Bennett's face. “Get your fucking hands up, both of you, or I'm going to fucking blow a hole in both your heads.”

“Oh, chill, Aaron. He didn't do anything other than stop us. And Valin and I were only sparring. He didn't hurt me, and I learned a lot of cool moves in the process.”

“You are fucking warped, you know that?” The comment came from Keon, but when Bennett glanced over at him he saw that the soldier was actually smiling. Annie smiled right back, her wide mouth showing off a spectacular set of pearlies as she performed a little curtsey.

Warped for sure. Though she was also interesting. Bennett could sense nothing from her. No emotions. No nothing. And though that should probably have made him wary, it didn't. It was a bloody relief is what it was. To be able to look at her and not know a damn thing about her or her feelings was a novelty he didn't normally get. He had no idea what she felt or thought of him and all that was going on here. Other than that, she had attitude coming out the arse and a penchant for trouble, it seemed.

Too bad he wasn't going to get the chance to get to know her better. He turned back to Valin. “I think it's about time we took our leave.”

Valin shook his head, his bourbon eyes darkening with determination. “I'm staying.”

Annie wasn't the only warped mind here. Bennett pierced Valin with a don't-be-a-blimey-idiot look. “Think that's a good idea, mate?” And then when that didn't knock any sense into him he asked, “What do I tell Senior?”

“Tell him I've infiltrated the ranks and will contact him when I'm able,” he said sarcastically, but Bennett couldn't help but note that his eyes drifted to a room a short ways down the hall. Aw, crap. A hundred pounds that was Gabriella's room. A thousand on top of it she was the source of both Valin's frustration and his despair.

The troops had sure been falling as of late. Thank the Lord he was made of more indifferent stuff than that. Women were women were women, and as long as he could convince one of them to offer up her soft, sweet body for his pleasure it was all good.

“You're not planning on coming back, are you?” he asked in a low voice, trying to steal some privacy for this rather private conversation.

Valin stared back at him, unblinking.

“Bloody hell, Valin. The kind of mood Senior's in, he'll put a price on your head.”

“You looking to collect?”

Bennett recoiled. “God, no. But I don't understand why you're pissing it all away.”

“All what? What am I pissing away? You know at Haven I'm nothing more than a second-class Paladin. Only one of lower rank is Roland and you don't see him banging on the doors to get in.”

Valin's voice had risen as he spoke. Bennett glanced over his shoulder at the three people doing their best to listen in on the conversation. Other than perhaps Annie—who'd already proven she was a bit touched in the head—there were no welcoming faces there.

“You think it's going to be any different here?” he asked as quietly as he could.

“They'll get used to me.” Valin pushed away from Bennett, turning down the hall toward the room he'd glanced at. “Now if you'll excuse me. I'm going to get dressed.”

“Goddamn it! Does no one give a shit that I have a fucking gun?” Aaron started after Valin, his steps faltering as he passed Annie. He turned on his heel, walking backward as he pointed at Keon. “Stay with them. And
this
time shoot his ass if he so much as moves.”

Keon flashed a brilliant white smile in answer. When Aaron was out of hearing range he turned to Bennett, eyeing him up and down with a pensive twist to his lips.

“You truly going to shoot me?” Bennett asked, a bit pissed at the complete lack of trust. He'd disarmed them, not attacked them, and only then to prevent bloodshed that had the potential to lead to outright war. Valin may've been right that he wasn't high on Senior's favorites list, but Bennett was at least mid-list and they both
were
Paladin…and in Senior's mind these soldiers were not.

Keon lifted and dropped his shoulders, looking a bit chagrined but not really all that pissed. “Might be easier if you hadn't bent the damn cartridge.” He held up the magazine cartridge, showing the dented corner at the top. “What are you—fucking Superman?”

Bennett figured the bent corner had nothing to do with him but rather the fact that it was an old gun. It had probably already been bent and just needed a ginger touch to get it to slide home. Kind of hard when your hands were shaking. Despite the bravado he'd shown, Keon was rattled.

“Sorry about that, mate. Didn't mean to bang you up, but I couldn't let you boys shoot my mate full of holes either.”

“Yeah, I'da done the same,” Keon said, still fiddling with the rifle. Bennett held out his hands. Keon hesitated, but in a moment of stunning trust gave it to him. It took a little bit of coaxing and wiggling, but a few seconds later the rifle was back together and in Keon's hands once more.

“Uh, thanks.”

“No problem, mate,” he replied, then took up a folded-arm stance against the wall to wait.

Taking a page from Bennett's book, Keon assumed a similar pose kitty-corner across the hall. For show he kept the rifle lifted, but Bennett noted that it wasn't precisely aimed at him either.

Annie, who'd watched the entire exchange, shifted from one foot to the other and then stepped across the hall to take up a bit of wall beside him.

“You know,” she said after another blissfully quiet minute, “you really don't act much like the other Paladin.”