Were-Devils' Revenge [Were-Devils of Tasmania 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

“Wilson?”

There was a noise inside the cave. She ventured closer.

“Gabby?” came Wilson’s voice. A little weak perhaps, but definitely him. Gabriella made her way inside. Wilson was on the cave floor, a chain around one foot. The other end of the chain of was under a rock. Judging from the mounds of sand, Wilson had been trying to dig himself out.

“Oh my God,” said Gabriella, running to his side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” said Wilson. “No thanks to your boyfriends.”

They had, she thought, at least brought him food, but this probably wasn’t the right moment to bring this up.

Gabriella pulled on the chain, and it didn’t budge. “Lena and Zachary are on their way,” she said. “Zachary should be able to do something with this.”

“About time,” said Wilson grimly. “I’m going to fucking kill those little, rat-faced vermin.”

Gabriella felt sick. She wished more than ever before in her life that her grandmother was there. She needed time to think. “I’ll have to go to the dock and meet them,” she said, gambling for time. “Then I’ll bring them straight here. Will you be okay for a couple of hours?”

“I guess so. But I’ll be counting the time down by planning exactly what I’m going to do with them. Zachary being here will make it all the easier and sweeter.”

* * * *

Gabriella knew she had to get Mitch and Mac off the island, but her mind had frozen. What possible reason could she come up with? She was, she supposed, their boss. She could just order them. She could not tell them that she knew and that they were in danger because she was quite sure that that would ensure they stayed put. There was no time to think beyond this moment. She wasn’t sure if she could forgive them or still love them, but she did know she could not bear for them to die.

She went to Pete’s room and banged on the door. He was sitting watching television and looked at her curiously. Gabriella was not in the habit of visiting him out of hours.

“Pete,” she said between taking deep breaths, having run all the way. “I need to ask you an enormous favor. As a friend, not a boss. And I can’t explain.”

Pete scratched his head. “Fire away.”

Gabriella outlined what she needed him to do, and while he pulled on a jacket and headed to his boat, Gabriella went to her office to pull herself together. When ready she made her way to the Richards brothers’ room. They were both there.

“Hi, boys,” she said, smiling, willing herself to appear calm.

They both looked up at her and smiled. Now she was looking she saw something else. Guilt.
Did they know she’d found out?
She stiffened.

“Gabriella,” said Mitch. “We were both about to go look for you.”

“Really?” Gabriella said, heart racing. Never before had she so wished she could read their minds.

“There’s something we have to talk to you about.” Mac sounded nervous. Gabriella stared at him. They were about to tell her, she was sure. There was no time to find out though. Nor make sense of her very confused feelings. She had to save them. Anything else would have to wait.

“Sounds great but we’ll have to put a rain check on it,” said Gabriella. “I have a job for you boys that I can’t trust to anyone else.”

They looked at her.

“It’s kind of personal, too,” said Gabriella, thinking she deserved an Academy Award for this performance. “I’ve just heard my cousins are coming over, and Pete’s going to fetch them.”

She paused, seeing how her boys tensed. “But Zachary has broken his leg, and Pete’s got a bad back, so I need some brute strength to help get him on the boat.”

It would have been impossible to miss the rise in tension even if she had not been looking for it. Mac’s hands were clenched so hard he looked likely to draw blood.

“Ah,” said Mitch. “We are, well, we…” He looked at his brother for inspiration.

“We really need to have that talk,” said Mac finally, not looking at Gabriella.

Shit.
Gabriella had been banking on their desire to fight, not come clean. Did they have to have a crisis of conscience at this very moment?

“No time,” said Gabriella abruptly. “Pete’s waiting, and I would have thought you boys wouldn’t want to let me down.” Without giving them a chance to reply she turned on her heels and marched off.

* * * *

Mitch looked at Mac in horror.

“We can’t,” said Mitch. “Even with a broken leg Zachary isn’t going to let us put him in a boat. What the fuck do we do?”

“Okay,” said Mac slowly. “Here’s the plan.”

It wasn’t their night for things going well. Tim and Jeff, two of the kitchen hands, had been more than happy to go in their place, or at least they had when money had entered into the equation, but Pete had refused to take them.

“Sorry, mate,” he said to Mac. “Gab was very specific. Had to be you two. Didn’t trust her cousin to anyone else.”

Mac regarded Pete suspiciously. “Do you know why?”

Pete shook his head. “I just do what I’m told.
Exactly
as I’m told.”

It took half an hour in the speedboat to the mainland. Not so far.

To Mitch’s surprise Mac sighed and relented.

* * * *

Lena and Zachary docked at half past ten. Gabriella was waiting nervously. Part one of the Academy Award performance was over. Now for part two. Trouble was, these people had known her all her life.

“I found him,” she said. “He’s fine, but he’s trapped.”

“Did he say who got at him?” asked Lena.

“Yes, unbelievable,” said Gabriella. “I didn’t have a clue. The two new guys I hired. Brothers.”

“Where do I find them?” Zachary was grimacing.

“Let’s get Wilson first,” said Gabriella. “He wants to be in on the action.”

“About time,” Wilson said when they got there.

Zachary looked at the rock and tested it. It wasn’t going to be easy, but after moving it to and fro he managed to get a rhythm up that allowed it to lift enough so that Wilson could pull out the chain. Still attached to his foot, it would need a bolt cutter which they could find back at the resort. Wilson rubbed his ankle. It was red and swollen.

“Now,” said Zachary. “Where are they?”

“I think I’ll stay out of this,” said Gabriella mildly, after which she gave them instructions to the brothers’ rooms. She watched them disappear behind the row of rooms, feeling ill. She was just glad they had been too intent on attacking the were-devils to pay her much attention. Before they had arrived she had cleaned out all the Richards’ belongings. And worded up Tim in the next room who along with Pete she was going to owe.

She watched the drama unfold. The two men burst into the room with Lena not far behind. There was an angry yell. Tim in the next room stuck his head out.

“If you’re looking for the Richards, they’ve gone,” he said. “Went back to the mainland. Some family crisis in Tasmania.”

Zachary hit the wall so hard the wood splintered and gave way. “Fuck.”

* * * *

Halfway across to Airlie beach, Mitch managed to pull Mac aside out of Pete’s hearing.

“I really hope you have a plan,” he said. “’Cause right now we are heading into deep shit.”

“Not so much a plan as a prophecy,” replied Mac. Mac himself was deep in deliberation. He was feeling increasingly torn between his feelings for Gabriella and those for Melody and what had started out as a need for revenge. He had been so certain it was the right thing to do for his sister, but it was not going to be the right thing for the woman he loved.

“Oh great, we do real well with them,” said Mitch.

“Maybe not so bad with this one.”

“What the fuck?”

“I think,” said Mac slowly, “that Gabriella wanted us out of the way.”

Mitch frowned. “Why?”

“Because I think Zachary and Lena are back on the island.”

“Which means—”

“Exactly. She knows who we are.”

“But then what are we doing going in this direction?”

“Buying time,” said Mac. “So we can have that conversation.”

* * * *

Hobart, Tasmania, 1945

There was a party atmosphere, even if there was no money to spend and no frivolities to buy even if they could have afforded them. The men were back. There were still more to return, and of course some like Edmund were never coming home, but at least there were no more dying. Angel felt lighter in her heart, though the absence of Larissa still weighed heavily on her. Since the funeral she had cut herself off from her family, moving to Hobart with her husband. She had heard Adam and Charles were back but had made no effort to contact them. As far as she was concerned, she was no longer a ghost. At least not in her heart.

So when there was a knock at the door in the middle of the day she was been expecting it to be her next door neighbor who loved to gossip and share recipes and moan about her husband being too serious and tight with money.

Instead it was Adam. Taller than her, holding himself proudly in uniform, though surely there could have been no good reason for wearing it. He was watching her as if hoping to see signs of her suffering.

“Adam,” she said. “I heard you survived, you and Charles. I’m pleased.”

“So you didn’t wish us dead?” He didn’t say Judas, but he meant it. He had not changed at all. But Angel had. Her two girls, wondering where she was, came to the door and hung back behind her shyly.

“I am pleased you made it,” Angel said. “But I have nothing else—”

“I’m here in peace,” said Adam. “And I have something for you.”

“I don’t think—”

“You owe it to them to hear me out,” said Adam, looking at his nieces with interest.

Angel clenched her fists but forced herself to smile. Turning to her girls, she said, “Lily, Rose, this is your Uncle Adam.”

Lily giggled and clung onto her mother’s skirt. Rose, the older of the two by two years was almost five and well versed in manners.

“Good morning, Uncle Adam,” she said politely.

Adam looked amused. “So, young Rose, will you offer me a cup of tea?”

Adam was already in the door, and Angel had little choice but to do just that. As she poured them both tea, with her two little girls perched on the edge of the couch, giving their dolls imaginary drinks, Adam finally told her why he was there.

“We are leaving Launceston,” he informed her, “and heading north.”

Of all the things she expected to hear, this was the least likely. “But it’s hot in the north,” said Angel. “That doesn’t suit…our kind.”

“So you are still one of us after all?” said Adam. “But of course you can pretend all you like, but your blood is still like mine. Them?” He nodded to the children.

“One,” admitted Angel reluctantly.

Adam’s eyes narrowed as he looked at them. “Which?”

But Angel had no intention of telling him any more. “Say your piece and go leave us alone,” she said wearily.

“We are leaving because we will have greater immunity in the north,” said Adam.

“Immunity?” Angel felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

Adam pulled out a vial and placed it in front of her. “You are, after all, my sister,” he said. “So it would be unconscionable to not protect you. After you take this the weather here may not be so enjoyable.”

“What have you done?” Angel whispered.

“The were-devils are about to find they have a problem,” said Adam. “A big one. It might wipe them out. I suggest you drink it in case they try to extract revenge. Especially if you stay here.”

Angel stared first at her brother and then at the vial. “What about my husband and children?”

“It won’t affect humans or children,” said Adam.

“But the were-devils?”

“If we’re really lucky it’ll get rid of the whole lot,” said Adam smiling, as if he was discussing weed control.

“You are a monster,” said Angel.

“No, I rather think they started this, don’t you?” He patted his mouth dry with a serviette. “I suggest you drink it. Your husband is hardly going to be able to…rear them by himself, is he?” Adam broke the top off the vial and handed it to her. “Drink.”

Angel looked at her children and knew he was right. Loathing him and herself for taking protection, she couldn’t offer the were-devils, she drank down the liquid, which smelt of cinnamon and tasted of mint and salt.

Adam stood up to go. He put another, smaller vial on the table.

“What’s that for?” asked Angel.

“The virus won’t affect humans,” said Adam. “But I lied about the children. I can’t say whether it will affect half humans, but they do still have bat blood, so I expect so.”

“Then I need two vials,” said Angel.

Adam smiled coldly. “No, you’ll have to choose which one you give it to, won’t you?”