Luther's Return (Scanguards Vampires Book 10)

He watched Gabriel close his eyes and stand in front of him, motionless. Luther felt nothing of the invasion into his memories. It was what made this gift so dangerous: Gabriel could use it without anybody knowing he was doing it.

At the thought of what Gabriel might see, Luther shuddered. He didn’t want him to see the cruelties he’d had to endure in prison, and he hoped that Gabriel wouldn’t go far enough back in time to see how he’d received his scars. He didn’t want anybody’s pity. He’d deserved the punishment.

Instead, Luther concentrated his thoughts on something else. Somebody else: the actress. Wesley, the witch who’d suddenly shown up, had called her Katie and kissed her. There was something about her. Her scent wasn’t entirely human, but just as he’d thought he recognized what it was, the stench of that male witch had polluted the air around them.

She looked familiar. Had he met her somewhere before he’d gone to prison? It was impossible. She wasn’t a vampire. Twenty years ago she would have been a child, not the beautiful woman she was now. It was impossible that he knew her. Maybe she simply reminded him of someone from his past.

“There’s nothing, Samson, he was telling the truth.”

Gabriel’s voice brought him back to reality. Luther lifted his lids to look at the two Scanguards bosses.

“Are you sure?” Samson ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s got nothing to do with Isabelle’s abduction. He met with nobody after he was released from prison last night.”

“What about earlier? He could have planned this long ago.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I went far enough back. There’s nothing.”

Luther caught Gabriel’s sideways glance and wanted to curse. Gabriel had seen more than he wanted him to see.

“You’ve gotta let him go.”

Luther lifted his hands, looking pointedly at the shackles.

Samson sucked in a breath. “You’re free. But that changes nothing. Leave this city! If you ever come back, I will find a reason to kill you. Do you understand that?”

“You’re making yourself perfectly clear.”

Luther recognized a serious threat when he saw one. Samson was volatile. As long as the whereabouts of his daughter were unknown, he would lash out at anybody he had a grudge against. And Luther wasn’t willing to stick around to play scapegoat.

“Unchain him!” Samson turned and marched out of the room, leaving his second-in-command to execute his order.

As Gabriel untied him, he said, “You’d better heed his warning and head out tonight.”

The chains rattled as they dropped to the floor.

Rubbing his wrists, Luther rose from the uncomfortable plastic chair. “I have no reason to stay.” He reached for his shirt and pulled it on, not bothering to button up. He grabbed his jacket.

“Don’t you?”

Luther stabbed his index finger into Gabriel’s chest. “You might have seen my past, but don’t presume to know anything about me. I’m not the man you once knew.”

Gabriel pointed to the door. “You’re free to go. The guard outside the door will escort you out.”

Without a word, Luther walked to the door and opened it. Outside, a vampire with a semi-automatic pistol strapped to his side, motioned him to the left. In silence, Luther walked ahead of him, the maze of corridors reminding him once again of prison. This wasn’t much different, though there was more activity and more noise at Scanguards HQ.

When they reached the lobby, a fancy entry hall with large glass panels on the side that faced the street, the guard stopped at the reception desk for a moment. Luther took the opportunity to let his eyes wander. It was odd that the entrance to Scanguards was made of glass. What did they do during the day when the rays of the sun flooded this area?

Maybe the glass was made of a special, UV-impenetrable material. After all, twenty years had passed since he’d been on the outside, and even inside the vampire prison he’d noticed technological changes over the years. Perhaps somebody had invented glass that didn’t let UV light through.

Involuntarily, he took a few steps toward the glass-paneled exit, wanting to look at the glass from up close. But before his eyes could zoom in on the shiny surface, they were drawn to a poster that had been affixed next to the double doors.

It was an announcement of the play that had taken place tonight. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, it read. A photo of what appeared to be a dress rehearsal was on the top half of the flyer, while a list of the major players graced the bottom. In the middle though, it was written in large letters: Directed by former Hollywood star Kimberly Fairfax.

Words bounced around in his head.

Hollywood.

Actress.

Kimberly.

His eyes snapped to the picture. And then he saw it. Saw her. The woman with the green eyes like a cat. The actress on the posters in the cell. Though her hair color was different, her eyes were unmistakable.

Kimberly.

It wasn’t I’m not in Berlin or I’m not Amberly.

I’m not Kimberly was what Isabelle had tried to tell her kidnapper. Kimberly had been the target, not Isabelle.