The Immortals After Dark 11: Dreams of a Dark Warrior

He rose, paced, then sat once more. He said nothing, didn't move, but she knew his gaze was raking over her.

When she remembered to breathe, he said, "Awake already." A faint accent tinged his deep voice, but she couldn't place it. He pulled her hood off.

She blinked against the low light, noting details as he came into focus. Dear gods, he was big, as tal as the original warlord she'd almost fal en in love with.

He was dressed all in black, from his jacket and combat pants to his gloves. His skin was pale, stark against the pitch-black hair that hung down past his forehead, partial y concealing scars on one cheek.

He was middle-aged, probably upper thirties, with a strong jaw, broad cheekbones-and Aidan's eyes. In this face, they looked cold.

Though for one brief moment tonight, they'd glowed with a berserker's light-the tell tale sign she'd spied while bleeding out in the street.

Aidan. She hadn't imagined it. Hel , she'd been sensing his reincarnation for three decades, had been warned by Nix for just as long.

"I have questions for you, Valkyrie."

Oh, I've got some for you, too. Like why you did a blender on my insides.

"Answer them truthful y, and you won't be harmed more this night."

This night? Final y, she nodded. With one gloved hand, he reached for her mouth. With his other, he shoved a cocked pistol against her temple. "I know a gunshot won't kil you. But it'l shut you up. Try one of your Valkyrie shrieks, and I'll put a bul et in your brain."

Definitely not an act. Great. Her Viking had come back wrong. She'd figured it would have to happen sooner or later. Hello, later.

All the effort she'd gone through to flee from him these past decades, to spare his current life, was for nothing.

So why had he captured her? And who were those men with him?

"Do you understand me, female?"

When she nodded again, he snatched the tape off, leaving her lips stinging like fire. She bit back a foul curse, growing less freaked and more pissed with each second. Regin's temper was legendary for a reason.

"How did your sister Nix know we'd been fol owing you? And why did she dispatch you to attack my men?"

"Dispatch?" He must've bugged her car! What exactly had he heard? "You know, it was more of a suggestion, like try the prime rib."

His pale lips curved into an evil sneer. "Have you ever been shot in the head before? I've often wondered what the pain would be like."

"I have been, and it hurts," she answered honestly. "I'll answer your questions, if you tell me who you are and why I've been captured."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm Declan Chase."

He thought his name was Declan. But not for long.

"I work for the Order, a mortal army at war with your kind."

"Never heard of 'em." I'm screwed. "Then why have you taken me prisoner? Why not just kil me?"

Maybe she was to be a war prize? Then history would repeat itself. She had to bite back a hysterical laugh. "You were coming for me anyway, weren't you?"

"You were selected for capture. We also ... study unique immortals."

Something about the way he said that last part gave her chil s. "You mean experiment?"

"Correct."

Yep. Screwed. Her eyes darted around the cargo hold. How the hel could she escape? "And that's where you're taking me now? To a jail? Or probably a lab?"

"We cal it a facility. Now answer my questions," he said, his accent growing thicker.

It was either Irish or lowlands Scot. This Aidan version was Celtic. Before, he'd been a French knight, a Spanish privateer, and an English cavalryman.

"Nix knows just about everything," Regin said. "She's a soothsayer. In fact, I'm sure she's already foreseen where you're taking me. I don't know why she wanted me to attack your men." Unless she planned for me to get captured. Knowing Nix, she probably considered all this a date that she'd set up between Regin and Aidan. "With her, I usual y don't ask."

"We'l discover it on our own anyway." The muzzle pressed harder against her temple. "Tel me, then, did you enjoy kil ing my men?"

Regin rol ed her eyes. "Of course I enjoyed offing them. You guys came to our turf, remember?" Filter, Regin!

"I should off you right here." He began unconsciously running the muzzle up and down her cheek.

She could shriek before he could shoot her, blowing out the glass of this aircraft. She might survive a crash. Aidan would be done for.

Even now she hesitated to harm him. "I can't tell you how much you would regret that."

"Because your kind will exact revenge on me?" He cast her that cruel sneer, a twisting of his lips. "And I can't tell you how many times I've heard that."

She shook her head. "No, not because of revenge. You'll regret hurting me."

"Regret? I despise your kind. I savored hurting you, anticipate the next time I can."

Once he remembered, his actions would put him to his knees with misery.

"Why did you act as if you know me?" he asked.

How to answer that? The sooner he remembered, the sooner he died. In the past, she'd done everything she could to keep him from remembering. I can't tell him. "I thought you were someone else."

When she shrugged as best as she could, the wound in her side erupted in fresh pain. Between gritted teeth, she said, "Since you've brought it up, my kind will exact revenge. They'l unleash hel on you for this."

He leaned in as if imparting a secret. "Then they had best do it fast. Because we're going to interrogate you, and examine you, and then we'l behead you. You'll beg for mercy, but I'll grant you none."

Icy dread shivered over her. "What the hel ," Regin whispered, "did I ever do to you?"

He shoved the tape back over her mouth and yanked the hood down. At her ear, he rasped, "You exist."

Another shot in her arm, and unconsciousness took her once more.

Chapter FOUR

Back at the facility, Declan signed over his unconscious prisoners to the warden, a stout, beady-eyed arsehole named Fegley.

The man hated Declan. The feeling was mutual.

Fegley was in charge of processing the inmates, removing their effects and any hidden weapons, formal y ID'ing them, and collaring them. While he worked, a physician from the research arm would take biological samples for an initial workup, then the prisoner would be transferred to one of the three hundred cel s spread out over two containment wards.

"Which cel are you putting the Valkyrie in?" Declan asked.

"Seventy."