Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu (23 page)

“I’m going to do the ritual,” she said quietly.

“No!” he shouted, his face pale and his fists tight.

“I have to. We both know it. It’s the only way to get Bernie and my brothers back safely.”
Why can’t he just understand and leave it alone?
His protests hurt too much to bear.

“There’s another way. We’ll find it.”

Deliberately, she summoned up the Huntress, setting her eyes aflame. Michael stepped forward, closing the gap between them, but she held up her hand. “I’m a monster, Michael. The hero is supposed to kill the monster to save the good guys, not try and save me and risk getting them killed.”

“Bullshit!” Michael spat out the word. It sounded so strange coming from him. “I see the darkness in people every day. I know all about monsters. You’re not one of them. I’m not afraid of your bogeyman in the dark, and I refuse to accept that it gets to win.” His face softened, and he smoothed her hair away from her face, tilting her chin up gently. “I want you, Dani. All of you, including your crazy family and the Huntress. There’s no piece of you I would leave behind. So you’re not leaving me behind either. And that’s final.”

“But what if—?” Her half-formed objection vanished when he bent his head to kiss her.

Chapter Thirty-One

If Dani wanted to protect Michael, she needed to walk away. But the feeling of his soft lips on hers, gently tasting her, savoring her as if she were a fine wine—it was too much temptation. Besides, there would only be a few seconds before the Huntress awoke.

She relaxed into his kiss, accepting both the moment and the tragic knowledge that it would be limited. His arms held her, the warmth from his body seeping into her skin. His scent overwhelmed every other, pushing away the outside world and creating a safe cocoon for the two of them.

Awareness flared: the Huntress wasn’t rising. It was still coiled inside her, but it wasn’t reacting to Michael’s closeness. It wasn’t waiting to strike. It curled up quietly in her mind as if it were hibernating or sated.

Michael broke off the kiss. “I told you we could find a w—”

She attacked, sealing his mouth with her own. Everything boiled up inside her, whisking away doubt and self-control to leave pure, steaming lust behind. Even the Huntress’s ravenous appetite faded in contrast with her own hunger to taste, touch, and claim what should have been hers all along.
Fuck them all.
The thought dimly echoed inside her, ignored as she sucked at his delicious mouth.

His lips accepted the ferocity of her kiss and deepened it, making love to her tongue and lips with uncensored passion. If she’d thought she was on fire before, now she was truly burning and had no wish to step down from the stake. She savored the sweet coolness of his mouth, a contrast to the fever consuming her from the womb outward.

A dim thought floated outside on the few neurons not aflame. The Huntress still wasn’t trying for Michael. She didn’t care what might have wrought this particular miracle. The only thing she cared about was fulfilling her own pent-up desires.

She moaned aloud, knotting her fists in his shirt to pull him closer. Their legs tangled together like awkward teenagers, threatening to knock them off-balance. She pushed Michael against a nearby tree while she ravished his body with her hands and mouth. He slid his arms around her waist, letting them explore while his clever tongue coaxed and played with her mouth. Dani’s whole body ached for more. Her womb quivered and pulsed as if trying to break free of her skin to touch him itself. He cupped her buttocks, softly smoothing her tight jeans. Fabric barriers became abruptly intolerable.

She snarled, ripping at his clothes. His button-front shirt parted as if made of thin paper. She tore the remnants away, giving her hungry hands access to roam over the territory of her imagination. A faint sound of protest might have come from the back of his throat but he pulled her closer, leaning back against an ancient tree to keep their balance.

He tasted as good as he smelled. A faint hint of woodsmoke lingered on her tongue as she licked down his neck. His skin was warm under her hands, soft velvet over the steel muscles beneath. It was every bit as exquisite as she’d hoped.

Her fingers traced the hot ridge of his erection under his jeans. For the first time since she was a teenager, evidence of a partner’s excitement spurred her on.

She wanted to roll down his body with kisses, go onto her knees and take him in her mouth. A strong jolt of approval came from her groin, encouraging her to continue the fantasy. It played out in her mind in a heartbeat. She wanted to start with her fingers, let them slide beneath his waistband to tease the thick length of him. To use her lips and tongue to explore the masculine contours of his chest as she slid down across the rippled muscle. To shove his pants aside and then take him between her lips.

The image of him towering over her, his head and sandy hair thrown back as his body shuddered at her command intoxicated her blood and fired her senses into painful awareness. She would coax him with all the ancient and modern skill at her disposal. Let him come closer and closer to the edge without bringing him over until he was ready to burst at her signal.

Her mouth watered at the fantasy. She began her teasing slide downward, but he caught her arms, bringing her back up to reclaim her lips.

“Not yet. We have plenty of time,” he whispered against her.

She growled in displeasure. She didn’t want
time
. Time was the enemy. Time allowed thoughts to wriggle past the emotions of the moment. The Huntress could wake from its unusual slumber at any moment. She wanted to be caught up in her feelings, not pricked by her conscience. Who knew how long this reprieve would last? Old memories threatened to spill over and taint their pleasure.

Michael paused, his hands stilling against her.

Dani kept her eyes firmly closed and her hands busy with his jeans. Nononono
nonoNO!
Her mind screamed as she tried to reignite the flames against the chilling void of loneliness and responsibility.

“Dani, you can’t do this.” He broke away from her, panting,

She tried to yank him toward her, but he stepped out of reach.

Half-blind with lust and frustration, Dani staggered against the tree. Raking her hair out of her eyes, she found him standing a few steps away. He watched her, his bare chest practically gleaming in the sunlight.

“You don’t want…?” No word could finish her question and still maintain her dignity.

“I do. God help me, I do.” His rough voice and the fiery scent of lust rising from him told her that he spoke the truth.

“Then come on. Don’t leave me like this,” she begged, reaching for him.

“You’re trying to banish old ghosts.” Michael swallowed hard, trying to regain some moisture in his dry mouth. “I can feel the old hurt and regrets getting stronger. Trying to pretend they aren’t there won’t make them go away.” His lower half threatened a general strike if he didn’t finish what he’d started. And he knew what kind of fiery lust consumed Dani. The way she stared at him, her breasts heaving with each panting breath, meant he’d taken his own life in his hands by stopping at that moment.

“You don’t understand. For the first time since we met, it’s quiet. We have to
now
, before it’s too late.” Her anger was getting stronger.

“It’s got nothing to do with the Huntress.” He stretched out his hand to bridge the distance between them.

Dani stepped back. “If you’re going to touch me, then you better be ready to fuck me.”

Those words crystallized everything for him. Now he stood on stable psychological ground. “Dani, I want to make love to you more than anything else. But I want it to be making love, not fucking. I want it to mean something between us, and I want it to be more than one night. I want you to be with me, all of you with me, because you want it and not because you’re trying to prove something or hide from something. I want to be partners.”

“I don’t have more than tonight.” Her hand wrapped around a tree branch and he heard the wood cracking. He could see the tears glinting in her eyes.

“Yes, you will. I’m a greedy bastard and won’t settle for anything less.” He used the profanity deliberately, hoping to make her smile.

She laughed, sliding down to the ground. A tired, post-stress laugh, but still a laugh. “It just sounds wrong when you curse.”

“It’s true. I am greedy. I want all of you and I’m not going to settle for anything else. We’ll work through the old ghosts together, but I don’t want our first time to be held hostage to some ancient Middle-Eastern legacy.” He settled beside her.

“And?” Dani cocked her head at him.

He couldn’t guess at what she meant.

“There’s something else. I can smell it on you,” she clarified.

“Oh.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t stand the idea of you being in pain because of me. I don’t ever want to be someone who hurt you.”

Dani nodded thoughtfully. “You know I don’t want you hurt, either.”

“And I am very much in favor of that plan. I like having all my limbs and faculties intact.” He took her hand in his, stroking his fingers over her soft palms.

She shivered with pleasure at the sensation. He could feel the hurt and anger subsiding inside of her. “You really believe we can find a way to save me and everyone else?” she asked.

“I know it. Like I know my life would be completely empty without you. We’ll find a way. Just give me a little more time.”

“This is one hell of a situation. And there’s not a damn thing I can punch to make it go away.” Dani leaned her head back against the tree.

“Dani! Michael!” Virginia’s voice cut through the day like an air raid siren.

“Damn. Busted by the ’rents.” Dani might sound like her typical self, but Michael could sense how thin the healed layer was. He allowed himself to be heartened when she didn’t relinquish his hand as she guided him back out of the forest.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Walter and Virginia waited on the porch. Appearing half-nude in front of his girlfriend’s parents was not what Michael considered the best approach to a relationship, but Walter’s surprise quickly flashed to approval before settling back into seriousness. Virginia’s features stayed fixed in a scowl.

“Gwen spoke with Chuck,” Walter told them as they arrived at the house. “He told her we’re running out of time. They’re moving Vincent, Eric, and Bernie tomorrow night. He’s planning to take them somewhere in Eastern Europe.”

“The final part of the trap.” Dani exhaled sharply. “They’re only giving us one chance at a rescue, and it’s on their schedule.”

“I’m working on a few people with useful talents. Nada is flying down,” Virginia reported. “The Strigis family is coming to recleanse and seal Gwen’s shelter. They should be here this afternoon. If necessary, they will take her and keep her safe.”

“You should go with them. Take care of Gwen,” Dani suggested.

“Not bloody likely,” Virginia snorted. “They have my boys and I’m not going anywhere until I know they’re safe.”

“I’ll take care of it. I promise, I’ll bring Vincent and Eric back. But I need to know that you and Dad and Gwen are safe.” Dani looked to her father for support. Her fingers tightened around Michael’s, and he felt her worry as his own.

“Vapor called and said you were planning on charging in alone.” Walter folded his hands in his lap, the very image of a priest sitting in judgment.

“Did he call everyone I know?” Dani snarled, and her weariness welled up inside.

“He’s wrong,” Michael said softly. “We can do this.”

Dani nodded. “I won’t be alone.”

Eric stared through the glass wall at the man lying on a hospital bed. Even unconscious, his face twisted in pain. “Who is he?”

“Captain McBride. One of our volunteers. We’ve been able to use a carrier virus with your DNA to transform him: taller, stronger, faster. Nothing near your limits, of course, but still a promising result,” Dalhard explained. “He’s been kept in a coma to avoid the more painful side effects of the genetic splicing.”

“How many of them are you planning to build?” Eric couldn’t keep the disgust from his voice. Torturing someone for financial profit sickened him. If Dalhard could watch the man suffer and still be eager, Eric didn’t want to imagine what kind of horrors he’d be willing to unleash once his toys were ready.

Luckily, Dalhard misinterpreted it as jealousy. “He’s purely a backup plan. A businessman always knows to have plan B ready to go. But since my plan A is coming along so well, I don’t see any reason to explore this beyond research principles.”

“Not to be rude, man, but this science shit is boring,” Vincent yawned, flicking at one of the consoles. “Isn’t there something more active we could be doing?”

His brother slipped further away every time they met Dalhard. Sometimes Eric caught glimpses of the old Vincent, but they quickly disappeared once Dalhard greeted them with his hearty handshake. Eric was hanging onto himself by the skin of his teeth.

“It may be boring, but I do need your help with it. You see, gentlemen, I’m like a man exploring a city with a flashlight in the dark. I have bits and pieces, but putting them together into the big picture is a challenge.” Dalhard obligingly escorted them into his nearby private lounge stocked with a full bar, catering table, and overstuffed couches.

“How can we help with that?” Eric asked, staying standing. He didn’t dare indulge in any of the comforts around him. He needed to stay alert and on guard to keep Dalhard’s influence from worming inside.

“You’ve seen the city in the light, so to speak. You can help me with layout, purpose, function. For example, your family is strongly gifted. Unusually so.” Dalhard settled into a plush chair.

“Oh yeah, it all goes way back. Ancient times and all that shit.” Vincent helped himself from the liquor cabinet.

“But you can’t be the only family with these gifts,” Dalhard said.

He wasn’t letting this bastard get his hands on anyone else. Eric spoke quickly to prevent Vincent from spilling secrets. “It’s not something people advertise these days.”

Dalhard smiled, toying with a small letter opener. The metal blade glittered as he swung it back and forth under the light.

“You know, you said we had something weird in our DNA,” Vincent said before Eric could go on. “There are old legends and shit about humans getting down with gods and demons and making superstrong humans. Like us.” Vincent slouched comfortably, waving his glass in emphasis. “I always figured it was kinda bullshit or something, but maybe it’s real. Maybe they were, like, aliens or something, messing with our DNA.”

Dalhard pursed his lips, taking Vincent’s suggestion seriously. “Legends often hold grains of truth, though there does not appear to be anything extraterrestrial in your DNA.”

Eric watched Dalhard playing his role of considerate advisor and mentor. It was as empty as a shed snakeskin, but he put on a convincing performance… or was the man’s empathic gift preying on his mind, making it seem more believable? He’d tried to keep from touching Dalhard any more than necessary, but it was impossible to avoid it completely without tipping his hand. Vincent seemed to be falling more and more under the man’s spell, drunkenly reciting a slightly warped version of the legend of Hercules. Who knew he’d been paying attention in Classical Greek Literature?

“Still, you must know others like you. It’s been a pursuit of mine. I would love to be able to help others as I’ve helped you,” Dalhard pushed.

“A few. Here and there. Nothing as cool as us though.” Vincent’s grin defined roguish self-confidence.

Eric started to interrupt but Dalhard beat him to it. “What about your sister, Danielle? Doesn’t she possess your same gifts?”

The too-casual question fired alarm bells in Eric’s brain. In previous sessions, he’d asked about their gifts breeding true. And now he was interested in their sister. The connection chilled him faster than a midwinter blizzard.

He’s searching for breeding subjects
.

Eric cursed himself for not seeing it earlier. The game had shifted to much more dangerous stakes without him being aware. He’d want as many gifted females as he could kidnap or coerce, turning them into baby factories. If Dalhard found out about Gwen…

“She’s okay, I guess.” Vincent dismissed her with typical sibling blindness. “Who else do you got in here?”

“There was one person I wanted you to meet.” Dalhard picked up a phone. “Karan, could you bring little Bernadette in here?”

Karan ushered in a little girl, about nine or ten years old. Her irregularly brushed dark-blond hair stuck out at odd angles, and her eyes kept flickering about the room. She tugged constantly on her pink sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“I know you,” she announced abruptly, her brown eyes latching onto Eric and Vincent. “The pretty lady is looking for you.”

Dani. She wouldn’t have given up
. Eric’s hopes sank. She’d be walking right into a trap.

“We’ll hope she finds them soon.” An avaricious smile flashed over Dalhard’s features.

“Chuck found a new friend. She sounds really nice,” Bernie continued.

“That’s interesting, dear. Why don’t you have some cookies?” Dalhard dismissed her.

Bernie happily dug into a plateful of cookies. Vincent happily dug into his scotch, and Eric dug into a deep depression.

“You see, Bernadette is proof that your family is not unique. She has fascinating predictive powers. It’s left her somewhat unstable, but imagine if I could have found her years ago. She might have grown up understanding herself and not been left scarred by the world’s disbelief…”

Eric tuned out the rest of Dalhard’s grandstanding, although Vincent was eating it up, apparently without question. A man wanting to ease the plight of misunderstood children did not try and transform ordinary men into supermen. He watched the little girl sitting next to him, eating cookies and swinging her feet. She reminded him of Gwen when she was little. She smelled like clean cotton and chocolate, all innocence. One more person he wasn’t going to be able to save.

“You don’t need to worry so much.” Bernie’s low voice jolted him out of his thoughts. A quick glance showed Dalhard still focused exclusively on Vincent.

“Thanks, kid.” Eric tried to give her a friendly smile, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

“I was scared for a while, but Chuck told me that Michael will come soon and rescue us. He promised. The pretty lady is helping him.” The words were delivered with a grave portent only a child could manage.

“Well, who told him?” he joked.

“Gwen.”

With a single word, Bernie destroyed any attempt at lightening the mood. Eric’s pulse started to slam against his skin with such force that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it break free. She was a medium, not a predictive. And she was in contact with Gwen, however indirectly.

Bernie patted him lightly on the knee, oblivious to her impact.

Eric looked up at Vincent and Dalhard, still talking. He needed to tread carefully, not alerting Dalhard to Bernie’s true potential as a line of communication, or as a potential threat.