Darkness Captured Page 2

  Unbidden, her body reacted, spilling fluid to dampen her labia. She sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to will away her attraction. How could she be growing aroused?

  Was he causing it? Did he have that kind of power over a woman’s desire? Her nipples tightened, beading hard, and again she tried to shield them from his gaze, but he already knew.

  She saw it in the fierce light glittering in his eyes.

  Another tug of his hand and she was rising, teetering on weakened limbs. He ducked and pulled her over his shoulder.

  As the world tilted, she flailed against him, clawing at his back through his clothing, but he turned on his heels and drove through the crowd. And because she was afraid, she didn’t lift her face to meet their gazes. She tucked her head against his back and closed her eyes. Wherever he was going—out of the room, or simply to one of the emptied tables to lower her and take her—she didn’t want to know.

  Her only thoughts were of Alex and whether he’d care enough to search for her when he discovered she was gone—and of Guntram, her protector, whose loyalty she never questioned. Alex might mount a rescue due to the complications her disappearance would cause with both their nations’ uneasy alliance, but Guntram would follow her for reasons all his own.

  Reasons she’d never had the courage to explore because she thought she might already know, and the last thing she’d ever wanted was the love of a wolf.

  CHAPTER

  2

  Alexander Broussard stood beneath the eaves on the wide veranda, listening to the sounds of the night—the humming of insects, the croaking frogs, and the faint rustle of leaves whispering in the slight breeze.

  The weres were good, highly disciplined. They’d made little discernible noise as they approached the compound’s gates.

  They’d also bathed away their wolf-smell and likely smeared their bodies with dirt to mask their human skin’s aroma. If they’d only been cloaking their scent to defy detection by vampires, it would have worked. But Alex was something else. Something more.

  He’d read the wolf-sign—the imprint of their subtly masked scent, and seen the lupine grace of their movements as they slunk through the woods. While their eyes weren’t bright, reflective discs, his heightened sense of sight could just make out sets of paler shades of gray ovals, peering from behind the trees beyond the far fence. For not only was he the only male Born vampire in existence, he’d trained all his life with a mage, learning other kindred tactics and hunting weres for practice. Apparently, waiting for this day.

  He’d already had a busy night. He’d usurped power from the ancient Inanna, taken her crown, and imprisoned her council. He’d soothed away Mikaela’s fears after she’d been reborn in flames, loving her until she slept the deep sleep of the innocent. His heart still ached for the child they’d lost when the demon he’d sent to hell along with Inanna had murdered his sweet phoenix.

  And the battle wasn’t over yet. Wolves encircled the estate, looking for their princess. He’d have gladly handed Gabriella over to them with apologies for the delay, but there was a little problem.

  “How long have they been here?” Nicolas Montfaucon, his captain of the guard said, pretending nonchalance and keeping his back to the perimeter fence.

  “For over an hour.”

  “You didn’t think I’d need to know?” Nicolas asked, a hint of annoyance tightening his voice.

  “What would you have done?”

  “Put more guards near the walls.”

  Alex smiled. “And they’d have known we were aware they watch us. That we prepare for a battle. And they’d wonder if we had a reason. For now, I don’t want them to know that anything out of the ordinary has occurred.”

  “Has Simon figured out a way to retrieve her?”

  Alex stiffened, fighting the urge to act. Now was the time to leave matters in more expert hands. “Once she touched the glass, she activated the portal. We’re lucky nothing tried to enter.”

  “But we’ve lost her.” Nicolas’s lips twisted in disdain. “Didn’t like her much, anyway. She’s a bit too proud.”

  “And your Chessa isn’t?”

  Mention of the woman they both cared for, and who carried another of Alex’s offspring, had Nicolas’s expression lightening. “Point taken.”

  “Gabriella may be a wolf, but at heart she’s still a woman. And she has to be terrified.”

  Nicolas nodded, his chest lifting with a deep sigh. “If Simon can’t reactivate the portal, or if she’s moved away from it, what will we do?”

  “We’ll have to tell her men she’s been misplaced.” Although his tone was wry, a fresh wave of guilt poured over him. Gabriella had trusted him.

  “That should go over well. Is there nothing we can do to bring her back?”

  “If anyone can, it’ll be Simon.”

  “I hate depending on fucking mages,” Nicolas spat, his words made almost comical by the French flavoring his inflections. “You’d think if he’s relived this time over and over he could manage to give us a little warning about what’s supposed to happen next. What good is it knowing the future if you can’t use that knowledge?”

  Not something Alex hadn’t asked the mage himself a thousand times. “Simon has his reasons. He lets us know what we have to know when we need the knowledge.”

  Nicolas locked his gaze with Alex’s, his expression growing pinched. “Alex, tell me the truth. Wouldn’t you have preferred knowing ahead of time that your Mikaela was a phoenix, rather than watching her body go up in flames and thinking she was lost forever when the Devourer murdered her?”

  Alex’s body tensed again, remembering his horror.

  But all had ended well. Now, she was safely tucked away in their bed, warming the covers nicely. His preoccupation with her, his need to soothe her when she was remade without memories, was what had forced him to place Gabriella in his vault in the first place. Gabriella’s jealousy had been palpable. How was he supposed to know the woman would not be able to resist the one furnishing he’d warned her not to touch the first time he’d brought her to his little cavern?

  He sighed, fighting the hollow pit in his gut that churned at the thought of what she must be enduring at this very moment. All his life, he’d gazed into the mirror, seeking a gauge of the activities of the demons inside the distant room, steeping himself in the knowledge that his battle wasn’t just about surviving and triumphing over the accident of his birth. His battle ultimately would be with the demon-spawn in that other dimension. Each time he’d peered into the glass and watched their violence increase as they’d become more crowded and desperate, he’d known in his heart that someday they’d find a way to pour into this realm.

  He’d never thought he might be the one to provide them the means. The weres would never be willing to sacrifice their princess for the good of all. They’d blame him—and expect a similar sacrifice—unless he could find a way to retrieve her, and quickly. And once she was back, he’d worry about Gabriella’s state of mind, her anger and hurt with him. Either way, his battle with the wolves had just begun.

  “Malcolm hasn’t checked in.”

  Nicolas’s tone was level, relaxed. But Alex knew he worried over his second in command. If the weres had gotten hold of him … “Where was he the last place you saw him?”

  “I sent him outside the gates on reconnaissance. To see whether the council members had any security roaming around that they’d failed to mention.”

  “The wolves aren’t savages. They aren’t the primitive animals vampires would like to believe.”

  “But they think like a pack. If they get hold of him, they might rip him to shreds.”

  “Or they might use him as a hostage.”

  “He’s not as important as Gabriella,” Nicolas said softly. “They’ll know that. If they don’t see him as leverage, they may use him to serve as an example.”

  Alex nodded slowly, his dread deepening. A clanging sounded from the vicinity of the main gate. “Guess
they’re tired of waiting,” he murmured.

  “I’ll go.”

  “Take care. They might not be aiming arrows at our hearts just yet, but they won’t pass up an opportunity to claim a greater prize. You’re a member of the sabat now,” he said, reminding him of his newly elevated status as the only Revenant to ever sit among the Born council.

  Nicolas’s teeth flashed white in the darkness. “I’ll have a care. The last thing I want to be is wolf kibble.”

  Alex waited, listening as Nicolas called softly to a couple of his men, and then ran with them in a lightning-fast blur toward the gate. In the shadowy night, he could make out their figures against the iron spokes.

  Suddenly, something large was pitched over the ten-foot tall wall to land with a heavy thud.

  Curses, low and hate filled, were carried on the breeze, and Alex tightened as something was hefted onto Nicolas’s shoulder and carried back. His carriage was stiff, his steps deliberate, fury emanating from the bristling of his body as he approached.

  Even before the almond-copper smell of Revenant blood reached him, Alex knew they’d found Malcolm. He wrapped his hands around the railing, gripping it tightly, feeling the muscles in his shoulders and arms ripple. He would have preferred to expend his fury in a physical challenge rather than to mentally strategize over every step forward. He’d been trained as a warrior, and now he had to hand the battle off to others because he was too valuable, his sperm and his powers too precious to risk.

  Nicolas eased Malcolm to the ground at the bottom of the steps. Blood gleamed in the moonlight from a dozen savage slashes across his throat and arms. His chest struggled to fill with each breath. His eyes were closed, his face ashen.

  Security swarmed them, lifting Malcolm to carry him to the barracks to see to his wounds.

  “They’ve made the first move,” Nicolas bit out.

  “And we will answer it. I promise you. But we have to do so in a way that will capture their attention and serve as a warning that we won’t stand for more violence done against our kind.”

  “Dieu! They mauled him,” Nicolas said, his voice roughening with hatred and despair.

  “And we lost their princess,” Alex replied. “About even, wouldn’t you say?”

  Nicolas dragged in a deep breath, calm settling over his quivering frame. “So do we just stand here?” he asked, his tone deceptively free of the violent rage still simmering in his dark eyes. “Do we wait for them to leap the walls and attack?”

  Alex smiled slowly—wolfishly. “We show them what we’re made of, Nic. Gather your men. And the women … especially the women.”

  “What are they doing?” Udo whispered harshly. “They know we’re here, and that we tortured one of their own. Are they so cowardly that they won’t come out to fight us?”

  Guntram peered through the spokes of the iron gate as the lights inside the mansion were extinguished one by one. “Tell the men to prepare themselves.”

  “But I don’t see them.”

  “You won’t. Not until it’s too late.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the breeze rustling the branches overhead built. He turned his gaze toward the canopy above him, and then heard a sound that made his blood run cold.

  A faint flapping, like a breeze caught in a bedsheet, sounded from above the trees. “They’re above us!” he hissed. He squatted low, pulling his crossbow over his shoulder. He slid a steel-tipped wooden arrow along the track, pulled back the linen cord, and latched it in the spring lock.

  The need for camouflage and silence long past, he stood, raising his bow and settling the stock against his shoulder. “Wolves, do not transform!” he shouted.

  “But they’ll have the advantage,” Udo complained.

  “They already have it in numbers. Aim for limbs, not hearts!”

  As his men tightened in, scanning the trees above them for large winged shapes and watching the undergrowth for Revenants closing in from the ground, Guntram said a quick prayer that his words had been heard by the vampires. They’d know his wolves didn’t intend murder. Perhaps they’d show the same restraint.

  Air brushed against the back of his neck, and he whirled, lowering his weapon and swinging his free arm wide to pluck up the creature swooping down at him from the sky. His arm closed around a bare waist, and he dropped his bow to take the vampire to the ground, crushing her wings beneath her.

  Breath left the blonde vampire in a loud gasp. Her blue eyes narrowed fiercely. Fangs slid from her gums, and she whipped her head toward him, opening his neck. She spat. “Wolf’s blood!” she cried, disgust drawing her lips away from her white teeth.

  She wriggled like a fish against him and a knife sliced at his sides. He brought up a knee and slammed it into her belly, and then reached to nail her hands against the ground, slamming the one brandishing the dagger until she let go.

  Then something large and solid slammed into his back, pulling him off the woman. Revenant scent surrounded him as fists plowed into his kidneys.

  They fought with knives and fisticuffs. Relief poured through him. He and his men weren’t going to die tonight. This was just a bloodletting to cow them into surrender. So why not have some fun?

  Guntram got his knees under himself and heaved upward, flinging away the vampire on his back, and then whirled to meet the next fist flying toward his chin. He blocked it with his forearm, and rammed a clenched fist into the Revenant’s midsection, satisfied with the blunt sound as his knuckles connected with flesh, and even more with the deep grunt as his opponent exhaled sharply.

  The Revenant kicked out, hooking the back of Guntram’s knee and shoving.

  Guntram smiled and gripped the man’s shoulders, pulling him down with him and rolling until he was on top.

  His fist came back.

  The woman cleared her throat. “I know you two would love to take a few more digs, but we’re wasting time here.”

  She was right. However much he wanted to beat the Rev to a pulp, he wasn’t any closer to Gabriella. He lowered his fist, and let the man roll him again. Although not as satisfying as inflicting punishment, he reveled in the adrenaline that continued to spike as the man above him delivered fresh blows. More to his gut, to his chin, to his mouth, opening a gash that bled down his throat.

  “Have you nothing more, wolf?” the dark-haired man above him growled.

  “Plenty,” Guntram gritted out. “But we both know this isn’t a battle to the death. You have something we want. We must parlay.”

  The Revenant’s fist drew back again. His lips clamped tight. “You would surrender so quickly? Are you cowards?”

  Guntram licked the blood from his lips and narrowed his gaze.

  The Revenant’s lips twisted with disgust. “Merde! Call off your men.”

  Guntram drew as deep a breath as he could manage with the vampire’s knee planted in his chest. “Wolfen! Surrender!”

  Bitter growls filled the forest, telegraphing the wolves’ resistance and frustration.

  He shouldn’t have had to repeat the command and vowed silently to remind them each later why he had been given command. He’d make sure the reminder was brutal and left scars. Still, he understood their reluctance.

  Bloodlust filled them. Although not in wolfskin, his men were unaccustomed to surrender, resented the implication that they had to lay down their arms and pride to their enemies. They’d get the chance to soothe their bitterness later. “Surrender! Remember why we’re here.”

  The menacing sounds slowly died down around them, replaced by harsh, jagged breaths. Footsteps crunched in the leaves as more of the vampires slipped into the forest around them. Guntram’s eyes widened at their numbers. They would have lasted only minutes if they’d tried an all-out attack on the compound.

  His gaze took their measure. The women, some with wings unfurled, all bare-chested like mythical harpies, had expressions set in lines every bit as harsh as the undead who served them.

  The Frenchman who held h
im immobile glanced over his shoulder at the blonde. “Natalie, are you all right?”

  Already rising, she flared her wings and winced. “Bruised is all, Nic. He’s not a lightweight.”

  The Revenant grasped Guntram’s shoulders, lifted him, and slammed him against the ground before jumping to his feet.

  Watching the male vampire for signs he might reengage, Guntram came slowly to his knees and stood. He wiped the blood trickling down his chin with the back of his hand and forced a feral grin. “This is where I demand that you take me to your leader.”

  “You’re in no position to demand anything,” the dark-haired Revenant gritted out, the fact he seemed to be the one in charge betraying him as Nicolas, the head of the coven’s security. “We have you surrounded. If you make one wrong move, if any one of you transforms, you’ll be killed on the spot.” To prove his claim he pulled a weapon from the holster strapped along his thigh. “Silver load.”

  Guntram gave a sharp nod. “You know that we didn’t come to do battle.”

  “Odd, since you left one of our own bloodied at our gates.”

  Guntram shrugged. “Just our calling card. You will note we didn’t send his ashes.”

  The blonde woman who’d first attacked him stepped up beside the Revenant. “Nic,” she said softly. “Alex would have this one brought to him.”

  Nicolas’s eyes narrowed on Guntram. “Your men will submit to collars.”

  Murmurs erupted from his men.

  “Only if I have your vow they won’t be harmed while wearing them.”

  Nicolas’s brow arched. “You’d trust my word?”

  “You’re Inanna’s mate, the Knight Templar monk. I would trust your word.”

  Nicolas’s firm jaw relaxed and bleakness darkened his eyes.

  It seemed strange the mention of the woman who turned him should affect him so. Something had happened here.