“Oh, yes. I’m going to feed from you, wolf. And you’re going to love every moment of it . . . right until you breathe your last.”
“You twisted motherfucker—”
Nick’s words were cut off as Darrow struck, sliding his fangs into the curve of his captive’s neck. Nick cried out, his body tense . . . and then he relaxed, letting out a hoarse moan. It was a sound of defeat. Broken.
With a dark laugh, Darrow pulled their bodies together tightly, Nick’s back to his front, and began to feed slowly. With long pulls and the occasional lick, nuzzling his prey’s neck, then repeating. His captive sank further under the wicked spell, unable to stop what was happening. Past caring.
Seduced.
“You’re mine now,” Darrow murmured against his skin. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“What do you want, wolf?”
“Drink from me. Take it all.”
“Patience. I’ll do as you wish. After we’ve enjoyed this fully.”
They moved together, vampire and prey, in a dark, ancient ritual that went back in history to the gods themselves. Zan knew, should help come in time to save their lives, even a man as mentally strong as Nick would find it nearly impossible to get past this.
The commander would rather die than be seduced into finding pleasure at the hands of his worst enemy. His murderer.
And with that thought, Zan finally lost the battle and became violently ill.
Thirteen
Selene paced, almost coming out of her skin.
Tarron and Jax were each on their cell phone, calling everywhere they could think of to find out who had leased or purchased buildings in the area in the past year. They were searching for an office structure large enough to hold a coven of rogues, in an area where they’d blend in with normal traffic. How hard could that be?
“All right,” the prince said, ending a call. Movement in the conference room halted and everyone gave him their attention. “One of my men has found a paper trail on a building in Grove Park, a midsized city less than a half hour from here. It fits all the criteria, except in the owner’s name.”
“Let me guess,” Aric said. “It’s a dummy corporation?”
Tarron nodded. “A fake telecom business. But at the end of the paper trail, the owner is our illustrious secretary of state.”
“So, when do we leave?” Selene demanded impatiently. “Time is wasting. And don’t even think I’m staying here, because I’m not.”
“Selene, Zan would kill me if anything happened to you,” Jax said with a frown.
“No, he wouldn’t, because he knows by now how stubborn I am. Besides, you guys forget I’m a born wolf. I have teeth and claws just like you, and I fight dirty.”
The men looked at each other, no doubt trying to figure a way to make her stay. In the end, however, they understood she would follow them if necessary. They knew she had to get to her mate.
Jax sighed. “All right. But if he takes a chunk out of my ass, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair enough.”
In less than fifteen minutes, several SUVs full of vampires and shifters were ready to roll. Selene rode with Jax, sitting in the middle with him while Ryon drove, as usual. Aric was up front beside him. The mood was tense, the team ready for a fight.
There was little conversation on the way, their minds too occupied with the takedown. With finding Zan and her father alive. That last was far from a sure thing. It terrified her the way her mate had cut off their contact so abruptly. He was either hurt or protecting her from something. Or both. None of those was very comforting.
Arriving a couple of blocks from their destination, they parked on a side street out of view of the building. Then they climbed out and began making their way to the address they sought, surrounding the premises. Flanked by Zander’s friends, his brothers, she prepared to rescue the man she loved.
Carter Darrow had fucked with the wrong people.
It would be his very last mistake.
Nick regained consciousness slowly. Wished he hadn’t.
He was still hanging in the silver chains that had burned his skin almost to the bone. His body was limp, heavy, his strength almost gone.
Along with his will to live.
Closing his eyes, he struggled not to remember how he’d begged that murderous vampire to drink from him. How good the pull had felt, how his cock had hardened in his jeans . . . and how he’d come in pulsing waves, unable to help himself.
His physical reaction had nothing to do with Darrow. He knew that. He wasn’t even sexually attracted to males. Vampires were masters of compulsion, and even the vilest of their bunch could hold the strongest will in thrall.
But he hated himself all the same.
Darrow had murdered his mate. Had seduced her in the same fashion and had wanted to do the same to his beautiful daughter. Nick knew he’d never be able to erase this day from his mind, even if he should survive another two hundred years.
The heavy door opened, and footsteps shuffled in. Please, let this end. Let them save Zander, but please, let me go.
Just then, the familiar buzz began in his head, and a picture began to form. He saw this very chamber, bathed in blood. So much of it, coating every surface. Bodies were strewn about. His mind’s eye took in the scene—and then stopped on one prone figure.
Selene, his baby girl, was lying on her side in a pool of blood. Eyes open, fighting for her next breath.
Then she lost the fight.
Jolted from the horrifying vision, he sucked in a deep breath. “No. It can’t happen like that!”
“What are you babbling about, wolf?” Darrow asked, amused. “Losing what’s left of your mind already?” He chuckled, picked up something from the table, and moved to Nick’s side. “Wait until you experience some of my fondness for knife play. You, bring our other prisoner out here so he can watch and wait for his turn.”
The other rogue did as he was told, unlocking Zan’s chains and pulling him into the center of the room. Then he pushed the Healer to his knees.
The silver blade came into Nick’s line of vision, and he knew. This was the weapon that would take his daughter’s life. What could he do to change the outcome when death just wouldn’t be cheated? Hadn’t he learned that lesson well?
“I prefer claws, myself,” he managed to retort.
Before Darrow could respond, a commotion reached their ears. A crash, banging noises. An explosion that shook the walls. Cursing, the rogue spun to face the door.
Then it slammed inward, banging into the inside wall. His Pack and the prince’s men spilled inside—along with Selene.
“No! Selene, get out!” he shouted.
Or thought he did. He would never be sure. Not appearing to hear him, his daughter rushed straight to Darrow and a vicious fight was on. In a blink, she took the rogue to the floor, shifting her hands into sharp claws and baring her teeth. Just when it seemed she had the upper hand and would finish him, a flash of silver caught his eye.
And Darrow buried the blade in his daughter’s side. The whole thing had taken only seconds.
She stilled, eyes wide, gasping for air. “Daddy? Zan?”
With a nasty grin, the rogue pushed her off him and the knife pulled free with a sickening squelch. He laughed as she fell limp and boneless to the floor.
The monster had killed his baby at last. Death had collected his due.
Daddy. Now, after all those lonely years, she’d called him Daddy again. When it mattered most.
Grief-stricken, Nick gratefully surrendered to the darkness.
He could finally let go.
When they burst into the hideous chamber, Selene took in two things: her father chained to the wall, covered in blood, and her mate kneeling on the floor.
Red clouded her mind, and she rushed for the object of her bloodlust. Darrow barely had time to react, taking a step toward her as she leaped at him and took him to the floor. Shifting her hands into claws and letting her fangs drop, she had every intention of ending him right there. She heard shouts, perhaps her dad’s voice. And Zan.
Then Darrow punched her in the side, hard. The blow stole her breath and she glanced down . . . to see a knife buried in her side to the hilt.
“Daddy? Zan?” she whispered.
Grinning like a jackal, he yanked out the blade and shoved her to the floor. She was so heavy, couldn’t move. Just as her eyes drifted shut, she heard her mate howl. The sounds of renewed battle.
And then nothing.
When the door slammed against the wall and their backup started streaming into the chamber, Zan barely had time to react. His mate flew at Darrow, took him to the floor. She was about to rip him apart.
In an instant, he’d buried a knife in her side.
Zan’s howl of fury rang throughout the chamber, above the din of the fight, as more rogues teleported in to engage his friends. Zan had only one goal, however—to kill Darrow.
Becoming a machine, he shifted a hand into sharp claws and slashed his way through rogues, gutting them. Ripping out their hearts. In the cacophony, they didn’t matter. His entire focus was only on the cool blond monster who’d so ruthlessly stabbed his mate.
At last he spotted an opening and threw himself at Darrow. They met in a clash of bodies, the bastard not going down easily this time. He’d been ready for Zan’s attack, but he didn’t have grief-fueled rage on his side.
Zan’s assault was relentless. Grabbing the arm with the knife, he smashed the wrist into the floor, crushing the bone instantly. Screaming, Darrow dropped the knife, and Zan went for his throat. But the vampire rolled, got his legs under himself, and shoved Zan off. It gave his enemy enough leverage to leap at him and try to pin him, but he was at a disadvantage with the broken wrist and didn’t get purchase quickly enough. Zan twisted to the side, easily breaking his hold and launching a counterattack.
Landing on top of Darrow, he grabbed a fistful of the vampire’s hair, pulled him up. He had to end this, and now. Executing a partial shift, he lunged forward and ripped out his enemy’s throat. It was over that fast. Darrow’s expression was one of disbelief and shock as the light faded from his gaze.
Zan dropped him and crawled to his mate’s side, heart pounding in fear. “Baby?” Gathering her into his arms, he was hardly aware of the sounds of the battle around him coming to an end. His team and the prince’s vampires had won the fight. But if he didn’t do something fast, his mate would lose hers.
She was still, pale. Hand trembling, he pushed an errant lock of platinum hair from her gorgeous face and gathered his strength. This was it. Selene and Nick needed him, and he would not fail them. No matter the cost—and it would be the highest.
His eyes never leaving her face, he took a deep breath. Summoned his power from deep within and sent the warm fingers of healing into her body, seeking the damage. His light traveled through veins and muscle to the source of the substantial blood loss from the wound in her side. Without his intervention his mate would die, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen.
Already, his head was throbbing. But he pushed the pain aside and concentrated on the damage the blade had caused internally. The tip of the knife had pierced a lung, so he sent his energy to that tear first, knitting together the tissues and re-creating air to inflate the organ.
Next came the stab wound, and he painstakingly repaired the flesh, making it as brand-new. Once the gash was closed, he focused on generating the blood she’d lost, not stopping until she was well on the road to recovery.
Done, he slumped over his mate. Held her close for a moment. “I love you. So much. I’ll love you forever,” he whispered.
Veins in his brain were flexing. Throbbing. Sending out agonizing pains as dire warnings to stop, which he couldn’t possibly heed. Because Nick was next.
He studied her face, committed it to memory. Then, throat closing on a burning lump, he handed her into Jax’s arms. “Take care of her. Promise me.”