chapter NINETEEN
Reed leaned against the bathroom doorjamb, his gaze settled on Denver’s body sprawled across the bed. The cover barely shielding her ass and one leg, the other leg stretched out, long and lean, inviting. He wanted to touch her again. He never got enough of touching her.
She hadn’t moved in over an hour. However, he knew she wasn’t asleep. He could tell from the way her chest rose and fell, the way her breath purred past her lips. She was more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. It was too late for her to change her mind. She had to accept him for who he was, what he wanted, needed, what they needed-- together.
He couldn’t get enough of her, and he wondered if he ever would. Reed stepped over to the bed, sat down. He slid his hand down her spine, leaned down and placed a kiss at the small of her back, laughed again when she moaned, when the light tremor vibrated from her body.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Um.” She didn’t open her eyes.
“I’ll bring back food, and after we eat, I think we need another hotel.”
“Um.”
Shaking his head, he turned and left the room. He jiggled the doorknob to ensure it was secure. She’d sleep now. She was going to need it.
It took him less than an hour to get to the store, buy dinner and a brief stop at the butcher shop around the corner to purchase fresh ambrosia for Denver. He knew she would probably object to it, but she hadn’t fed in over a day. He was pretty sure their lust hunger fed energy to her but not the way blood did. Just thinking about her sent his adrenaline into overdrive.
He held the bag close to his side, grabbed an apple from the top of the food and took a bite. The juice dripped down his chin. Today was a good day. Today was--
The hairs at the nape of his neck prickled, stood on end. His gut clenched, did a flip. Reed swallowed the apple, not even sure if he’d chewed it. Something was wrong. He stopped his trek, tilted his head to the sky and sniffed the air. Anger and fear assailed his senses. He glanced behind him, across the street and the front of the hotel. There was nothing out of place. He cocked his head to listen, to filter out the run of the mill conversations. Underneath it all he’d find what he was looking for.
From the corner of his eye he caught a shadow, the measly movement of a body stepping around a corner. Damn. He recognized the man immediately. He noticed the arm encased in a cast. He should have killed this one, but he didn’t think him a threat. Not after the way his friends ran. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings. He should have changed locations sooner. He should have done a lot of things, but now it was too late.
He took another step toward the door of the hotel, waiting. Was the man alone? He doubted it. How many more would there be? He could take them if need be, but this time of day, the street was busy with people. There was no darkened alley for this fight.
Two, no three more men stepped out of the shadows. Cast guy pointed toward Reed, nodded his head. The screeching sound of tires on pavement fractured the air. A black utility van slammed to a halt, the door slid open and the men leapt inside.
What was going on? No fight? His heart kicked into overdrive. The hairs on his arms stood on end. He swallowed, looked up and down the street waiting for the attack. It never came.
Denver!
He didn’t know if he yelled her name but was certain it repeated over and over in his head, like a mantra. The bag of groceries slammed to the ground. The jar of pigs blood smashed open and stained the concrete making it look as if someone had been slaughtered right there on the steps. He crashed through the door, ran past the elevator and took the steps three at a time, leaping corners and railings. If anything happened to Denver, he’d never forgive himself.
He’d left her asleep, vulnerable, weak. She hadn’t feed. She wouldn’t be able to fight them off. He should have known better. He should have made her feed from him, even if only a drop. Sometimes that’s all it took. A drop of his blood and she’d have had a chance.
He ran down the hall toward their room, rammed the door and it splintered off its hinges. The room was in chaos. The mirror was shattered. Glass everywhere. The mattress was askew on the bed. The window was obliterated. And there was blood, lots of it. He inhaled, blew it out and sucked in another. Some of it was Denver’s, most of it was not. She’d fought back. Good girl.
Sirens blared in a distance. Surely they were headed towards him. No way could this have gone under the radar. His heart escalated to the point of pain and his head pounded. He had to find her, save her. He’d stop at nothing. He bent at the side table, righted it and pulled the gun from the drawer and tucked it in the back of his pants. He grabbed the extra ammo and the duffle bag. They’d not be coming back to this place ever again. Turning, he caught a glimpse of the note tacked to the wall next to the door.
“Come alone and I won’t kill her slowly.”
He growled, punched his fist through the wall and ran down the hall, ignoring the pain in his swelling knuckles.
***
Reed blinked and he was braking the car to a stop at the perimeter of the trees. His chest hurt, a tight band tightened into a knot. Anger was a bitter pill and he tasted it from the back of his throat to the tip of his tongue.
He wanted to run into the building, guns drawn and shoot his way to Denver. But he knew that wouldn’t work. Schemellie would have all of his guards in place. He needed a plan and that was the one thing he didn’t have.
With stealth he moved toward the warehouse. It was somehow brighter than the last time. The sun was yet to fall but the shadows from the trees gave cover.
If his mind had been on alert and not distracted by the fate of Denver, he would have smelled the danger before it was upon him. A fist with the force of a jackhammer slammed into his face, knocking him backward and to the ground. He had the gun out and ready within seconds.
“You can’t storm the fort.”
“Magnimus.” Reed pushed up, a low growl escaped his throat. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“Why do these a*sholes have Denver?”
“Not for long.” He turned back toward the building. “I thought you were dead.”
“And I thought you would have protected her.”
An anger filled growl escaped his throat. Reed felt blood flood his eyes.
Magnimus grabbed his arm, stopped him. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He twisted his arm loose. “I don’t have time for chit-chat, Drake.” His hands clenched into a fist, ready to pummel if he stopped him again.
He still didn’t trust him. Where’d he been? His gaze racked over Magnimus. He didn’t look any worse for wear. Where were the torture or battle scars? There were no bruises saying he’d been beaten, held against his will. There were no scars or remnants of torture.
He glanced at the lit windows in the warehouse. The windows were just barriers to where his Denver, his life was kept. Did they torture her as they would him? Was she alive or already dead and he was walking into another trap? He primed his ears in an attempt to hear her. Nothing. He drew in a breath knowing he wouldn’t smell her.
“You have the advantage,” Magnimus said, his voice low.
He turned and glared at him. “You call this an advantage?”
“They don’t know I’m here. They thought they’d killed me. They are idiots, thinking they could nail me in a wooden box. I came back to bring my own revenge when I saw them drag her inside.”
“Was she fighting?” A bit of hope settled around his heart and instantly vanished when Magnimus shook his head. “I will kill them. You do understand that.”
“Not if I get to them first.” Magnimus pulled a gun from under his shirt, checked the clip. “How do you want to play this?”
“I’m walking right in the front door.” He motioned toward the gun. “I would have thought, being a master vamp you’d have something else under your shirt.”
“Oh, I’ve got more. Trust me. Now, let’s go get Denver.”
Reed ducked behind a turned over barrel next to the rear door. The sounds of movement on the opposite side of the wall had his heart pounding. He duck walked under the next window. He had to play this by the book. He had to make them think they had the upper hand. The muffled scream fracturing the silence of the air stilled his movements.
Denver.
Damn them. They would die for this. He took a chance and peeped through the window. Oh, God. He swallowed back the bile bubbling in his gut. Denver was in the room, her hands tied above her head and secured to a ceiling beam. Her lifeless body hung strained against the ropes. Blood coated her face, her shirt.
Bastards.
Her feet dragged the floor. Dizziness swarmed his head. What had they done to her? He took a step back and the press of a cold gun barrel against his head stopped him. He raised his arms, placed his hands on his head and interlocked his fingers.
“Don’t stop now. Keep going.”
He started to turn to face his assailant and was met with the gun punching him in the side of his head and sent a cold stab of pain through his temple. “Did I say you could look at me?”
Anger ripped at his innards. His muscles spasmed, twisted. Pain shot through his body so fierce he stumbled. He had to gather himself, put a cap on the anger. He had to concentrate and get to Denver before it was too late. The muscles in his legs and arms twisted, bunched. No! He shook his head, gulped in air. He didn’t want to shift. Not now. Surely if he did he’d be met with a bullet in the head before the transformation was over. The man punched him in the side with the rifle.
“Keep going.”
He couldn’t stop the growl that escaped his throat. The anger he now felt was like nothing he’d ever experienced, not even when his brother died, his family and friends. This… this was something new.
The door swung open and there sat Schemellie, facing Denver. His head bowed. Was he praying? Rejoicing? His wife paced a line in front of Denver. Her hands were bloody and she wiped them down the length of her pants. A smile curved her evil mouth.
“Did you think I’d not find you?” He pushed up and turned toward him. “Did you think you were invincible?” He tilted his head toward the corner of the room.
That same man he’d fought in the alley stood partially hidden behind a large crate. He promised himself he’d kill him last.
“She has nothing to do with this.” He motioned toward Denver. “Let her go.”
Angela burst out in loud boisterous laughter. It was sick and evil and he had to swallow back the bile it brought to his throat or he was going to leap and kill, knowing he’d be shot before he reached her. He was going to enjoy the taste of her blood on his teeth when he ripped her throat out, right after he killed Schemellie.
“Ha! You actually think I’ll let your vamp whore live.” She tossed something at him. It bounced off his chest and rolled across the floor.
His eyes focused on the two small objects. He closed his eyes and reopened them not believing what he was seeing. Sonofabitch. The bastards had extracted Denver’s fangs. He mentally called out to her, hoping she heard him. Their mental bond was strong but it had been under more feral conditions. If you can hear me, baby, I’m sorry. I will get you out of here.
Denver moaned. She actually moaned. It was low, but he heard the glorious sound. Her head lifted a fraction and eyes fluttered open. She stared right into his soul. A second later she closed them and lowered her head, again reminiscent of death. That’s all he needed.
He straightened, turned toward Schemellie and took a step. His men were on him within a second flat. He heard Angela yell.
“Kill him!”
And all hell broke loose. He was wrestled to the floor, hands grabbing him, punching him, clawing him. He didn’t care. He tasted his own blood and he didn’t care. The only thought in his mind was getting Denver to safety and payback. A bolt of electricity entered his body from a hand held tazer. His body jerked and convulsed in response.
The growl fracturing the air came from his lungs. It was startling, frightening, ugly, powerful. His assailants stilled for the briefest of seconds. He recognized it for what it was and his heartbeat escalated. His beast ran along his spine and collided with his soul. It started to gnaw and tear itself out.
Yes! Now. Come Now!
A flash of pain and it was done. His muscles stretched, bones broke and reformed. His skin peeled away and re-knit across tremendous tendons and muscle. He stood in one fluid motion and the men holding him down were thrown across the room with a single breath. The ones that could scrambled and crawled on hands and knees in an attempt to get away. He wanted them to run. Run meant hunt and he would find them. Each and every one of them would pay for what they’d done, slowly and very painfully. He stared at his hand, now covered in thick black fur. It covered his entire body.
“I knew!” Angela screamed as she ran from the room.
The boom of a rifle fractured the air, a bullet whizzed past his ear. More screams and yells permeated the air. He scanned the room for Schemellie and didn’t see him. The men were attempting to crawl away, find cover. He leaped, grabbed two around the neck. He tossed them across the room and reveled in the sound of their bodies breaking against the far wall. He whirled on his legs and scanned the room for others, but didn’t see any. Damn. Another explosive boom rent the air and this time it shook the floor. More screams and then silence, deafening silence. The soft moan from Denver pulled his attention away from the chaos. He dropped to all fours and gasped for much needed breath. His humanity returned as fast as his transformation. He’d thought it would have been more climatic, but it wasn’t. He’d hoped Denver would have been at his side to rejoice with him, but she wasn’t. The pain was excruciating and not from the change in the body, from the sadness that it was too late.
She hung before him, broken and beaten. Anger returned to his heart, his head, his soul. The subtle sound of footfalls caught his attention.
Magnimus stepped out from the shadows, his face as white as a sheet, his lips coated in blood. He settled his eyes on Denver and lowered his gaze. “Get her out of here!” Magnimus turned and moved in the direction Schemellie exited. “He’s mine.”
“Not if I find him first.” Reed growled, moved over to Denver and reached up to release her hands. The recent metamorphosis of his body left him fatigued and clumsy. His fingers didn’t work and that made it difficult. He growled even louder.
Magnimus stepped over to him, cut the ropes. Reed grabbed Denver as her body slumped toward the floor and scooped her into his arms. He turned and walked toward the door.
“I’ve got you now, baby,” he whispered in her ear. With each step he felt his body return to the Reed he’d known for so many years. In an instant his muscles re-shaped, healed. His bones grew stronger.
Reed stepped over to a tree and laid Denver on the ground. He sat down and brought her head to his lap. His hand stroked the side of her face. She was cold… so cold, her face ashen. “Listen to me baby, I need you to open your eyes. Let me see your eyes.”
She didn’t.
He knew she needed to feed. His blood could revive her, bring her back. He stared at her mouth and the guilt slammed back into him. She had no incisors, nothing to bite him with. His head jerked when a shadow fell over his body.
Magnimus.
He handed him a knife. Reed snatched it from his hand, brought it to his wrist and sliced it through the skin. His blood bubbled up along the incision. He placed his wrist next to Denver’s mouth. She didn’t suck. The blood just ran down his arm.
“Denver. Open your mouth for me, baby. Ah, come on now. I can’t do this by myself.” He leaned down, kissed her forehead, her eyes, and her mouth.
She moaned, gasped and her body bowed. He placed his wrist over her lips and his heart sighed when her mouth latched on and she began to suckle.
“Oh, God, baby. That’s right.” He cradled her against him, his arm tight against her mouth. “Take it all. Take what you need, all of it.” He slowly rocked back and forth trying to avoid the images of her dying in his arms as they skidded through his mind. “I need you to live even if it means my death.”
Soft moans escaped her throat and her body relaxed against him just before the barely there needle prick stung his arm. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged the corners of his mouth. He knew she’d heal fast but he didn’t think this fast. Her hands drew up, wrapped around his arm and held him tighter to her. Again she began to suck, applying more pressure than before. Another minute passed before the slight wave of dizziness floated up his body to his brain. He didn’t care. He meant it when he said she could have it all. She purred from deep in her chest and released her hold. Her body slumped lazily against him, her eyes closed.
She’d sleep now. And heal. He lifted her into his arms, carried her deeper into the trees and laid her behind a tree. They wouldn’t find her and he had work to do, a job to finish. He kissed her on her forehead, her mouth, sliding his tongue between her lips. His tongue scraped against the tiniest point of new incisors. Nodding, he stood and ran back the way he came. Magnimus shouldn’t have all fun. He had a score to settle with one, Brian Schemellie.