Secrets in the Shadows by Jenna Black
“Things have gone to hell down here, Eli,” he said, skipping the polite greeting.
“Tell me.”
Drake recounted the harrowing events of the evening, concluding with the cheerful news that he was now Camille’s prisoner.
“One thing’s for certain,” Eli said when Drake was finished, “whoever made those fledglings, it wasn’t Gabriel.”
“Oh? How do you know that?”
“I know Gabriel. He’s very loyal. Camille would have to provoke him beyond endurance to make him turn on her.”
Drake thought about that a moment. “You mean, like you did?”
He could almost hear Eli’s wince. “I can’t blame him for hating me.”
“What exactly happened between you two?” Drake didn’t expect the usually closed-mouthed Eli to answer, nor was he sure he wanted him to.
“I tried to kill him. When I decided to found the Guardians, I knew I had to start by destroying my own fledglings. Gabriel wasn’t my fledgling exactly, but he was just as much a Killer as the rest of them. I captured him with my glamour and I meant to behead him with my old sword.”
Drake shuddered, wishing he hadn’t asked.
“In the end,” Eli continued, “I found I couldn’t do it. I forced myself to swing, but I pulled up at the last moment.”
“The scar on his face …”
“Yes.”
Drake frowned. “But he was a vampire when he was wounded!” And vampires don’t scar.
“I can come up with any number of explanations for that scar. Perhaps it was because of the iron sword. Perhaps it’s because he’s never been human that he’s vulnerable to scarring. Or maybe it had something to do with my own power.”
All of this gave Drake a little more insight into Gabriel’s state of mind, but didn’t really convince him that he wouldn’t turn on his mother. No one who carried that much rage around on his shoulders could truly be predictable.
“Perhaps given a little time to calm down, Camille will realize he couldn’t have been the one to order the attack,” Eli concluded.
“You would mourn him if he died.”
“Yes, Drake. I would. Though no doubt he deserves to die.” Eli’s voice sounded a bit husky, and he cleared his throat.
Under other circumstances, Drake might have felt sorry for Eli, for the burden of pain and guilt he carried. And maybe he would take the time to do so, once he got out of here. If he got out of here.
“What are the chances you can get Camille to release me?” Drake’s phone beeped to let him know its battery was running low.
“Not very good, I’m afraid. I can only assume she’s detaining you to punish me. But I’ll do what I can. Maybe once she realizes it wasn’t Gabriel who attacked her, she’ll calm down.”
The phone beeped again, then went dead.
“Dammit!” Drake said. What condition was he going to be in if and when Camille decided Gabriel wasn’t guilty? Right now, she was too busy planning her hunt to spare him much attention, but eventually she’d remember she had a whipping boy available to take her frustrations out on.
If by some miracle they both lived through this, Drake was going to make Jules very, very sorry he’d started this mess!
15
THE FIRST LIGHT OF dawn was trying to struggle through the heavy clouds when Jules finally returned to the hotel. He hadn’t meant to be gone so long. He’d originally figured he’d give Hannah an hour of solitude. But when a quick psychic scan of the area told him there was another vampire nearby, he’d gone in pursuit.
Stupid, probably. One-on-one, he was no match for the Baltimore vampires. But at least this one had fled at Jules’s approach. He greatly preferred to keep any and all vampires—save himself—as far from Hannah as possible.
The vampire had led him on quite a chase, continually trying to circle back toward the hotel. No question about it, he and Hannah were going to have to change residences again. If only he could get her to leave him alone, go back to Philly where she’d be safe! Never mind that the thought of her leaving made his chest ache. He hated putting her in danger, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.
Shortly before dawn, his quarry eluded him, and Jules was left to return to the hotel, feeling like he was being watched the whole way.
He entered the room to find Hannah fast asleep on the bed, her knees curled to her chest in what looked like a defensive posture. He sat on the bed beside her, careful not to wake her, and softly stroked the cascade of curls that draped the pillow. Her cheeks showed no lingering trace of tears, and she had that freshly washed smell that said she’d showered very recently. Even so, Jules’s sensitive nose picked up the lingering scent of sex that bathed the room.
His throat knotted up, and he wondered if he should wake her after all so he could ask her what had happened. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had gone wrong, but he suspected it had something to do with how she’d opened herself up to him. She was not a woman who was comfortable with feminine vulnerability, and he suspected last night’s events had left her feeling vulnerable. Certainly it had left him that way.
Jules yawned and glanced at the window, where the feeble light was strengthening. Better to let Hannah sleep. He wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer, and he didn’t think this was a conversation they could finish in such a short time.
Not wanting to disturb Hannah, he lay on the floor between the bed and the wall and covered himself with his coat and a couple of sport jackets. It made for a stifling, uncomfortable bed, but the double layer increased the chances he could survive if he tossed and turned in his sleep.
If he’d been human, he’d have been far too uncomfortable to sleep. As it was, his mind started its drift into nothingness within seconds of his lying down.
HANNAH WOKE TO A subtle feeling of wrongness. She lay still, fighting the urge to yawn or stretch, and tried to figure out where that feeling came from. That was when she realized from the bright glow behind her closed eyes that there was way too much light in the room.
With a gasp, she sat up. “Jules!” she cried, flinging herself to the edge of the bed to see the impromptu second bed on the floor. She let out a huge sigh of relief when she saw the man-shaped lump, covered from head to toe with his cashmere coat and a couple of jackets.
Another burst of adrenaline shot through her system. She certainly hadn’t opened the curtains to let that much light in, and Jules wouldn’t have done it either. The hairs on the back of her neck prickling, she slowly turned to the windows.
Gabriel stood directly in a shaft of sunlight, arms folded over his chest as he regarded her with a distinctly amused expression. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t liked seeing him last night. She liked seeing him now, during the day, much less.
“Are you wearing SPF sixty or what?” she asked, folding her legs to sit Indian style in the middle of the bed. She could make a dash for her gun, but the effort seemed futile. Besides, if he wanted to kill her—or Jules—he probably would have done so by now.
Gabriel smiled, an expression that didn’t reach his icy eyes. She noted that while he had fixed his hair after its encounter with the baseball cap, he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She supposed he couldn’t go home and change without running into Camille.
“Always ready with a quip, aren’t you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Guess so.” She didn’t want to know how old he was to be able to tolerate direct sunlight like that. “What are you doing here?”
“If you remember, I had some questions for your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, an automatic, knee-jerk response she wished she could swallow back. Could she sound more defensive?
Gabriel’s nostrils flared, and he gave her a knowing look. Suddenly, she remembered that vamps had really good senses of smell. She hated the blush that crawled up her cheeks, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Trying to ignore her embarrassment, she
“Indeed I do.” Another one of those weird smiles of his. Hannah didn’t like it one bit. “I could have waited until sundown to do what I’m going to do,” he said. “I’m easily strong enough to keep both you and Jules under control. But if I did it in front of him, I’d feel obliged to be a hard-ass about it or it would spoil the effect.”
Fear congealed in her belly and the remnants of the blush vanished with all the other blood in her face. She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything, sure her voice would shake if she spoke. What was the freak planning to do? She didn’t want to know. Unfortunately, she was sure to find out.
“Don’t be afraid,” Gabriel said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I won’t hurt you.” He took a step toward her, and she scooted backward until his glamour seized her and wouldn’t let her move. Panic clawed at her and her breath came in short little gasps that didn’t seem to bring enough oxygen into her lungs. She hated it when Jules used glamour against her, but at least when he did it, she spaced out for the duration. Being fully aware and yet unable to move sucked!
Suddenly, Gabriel released his hold on her. She breathed easier, even though her situation hadn’t in truth improved.
“Don’t run away from me,” he said, “and I won’t immobilize you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, then reached out to grab her wrist. The grip was gentle, but unbreakable. “I won’t hurt you,” he repeated, then drew his lips back in a smile that revealed his fangs.
Hannah wasn’t able to stop the frightened whimper that escaped her throat, but she did her best to fight the fear. “As a Killer who’s showing fang, you lack a certain credibility.” Despite the smart-mouth words, her voice shook.
“I only kill mortals I don’t like. So far, you don’t fall into that category. I’ll let you know if and when that changes.”
That wasn’t particularly comforting at the moment. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to bite you.”
She practically screamed. Her attempt to free her wrist from his grip was as fruitless as she’d suspected.
“Shh,” he said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It won’t hurt. And I won’t feed, since I’d have to kill you to do that.”
She shivered. “Your bedside manner could use a little work.”
“I’m just going to leave a mark, a little something to remind Jules what’s at stake.”
She figured he probably meant that, but in her experience so far, vampires weren’t famous for their restraint. She reflexively put her hand to her throat, wanting to keep his mouth as far away from it as possible. She looked at those long, sharp fangs of his and shuddered. Who was he kidding, it wouldn’t hurt?
“Glamour,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You won’t feel a thing.” He pulled on her wrist, drawing her toward him. She couldn’t help resisting. “If you don’t struggle, I’ll leave your mind alone except for the glamour to mask the pain.”
He had enough of a read on her to know how much she hated the mind games, and she didn’t like it. Battling her instincts to fight like hell, she moved to the edge of the bed and swung her legs around so she was sitting next to him.
“Get it over with.” She gritted her teeth, wishing that would quell her trembling. Her stomach roiled, and she wondered if he would mind if she barfed on him when he bit her.
He brushed her hair out of the way, then tilted her head to the angle he liked. Sweat trickled down the small of her back and soaked her palms. In contrast, her mouth was Sahara-dry.
“Take a deep breath,” Gabriel said. “Truly, there’s nothing to fear.”
She had some instructions she’d like to give him right now, but antagonizing a vamp who was about to bite her probably wasn’t the brightest idea in the world. She ignored his advice.
He moved in quickly, and Hannah lost the fight against her nerves. She tried to pull away, but he held her head tight as his mouth came to rest on her neck. She felt the brush of his lips, hot and wet, then a stroke of his tongue. Before she even had a chance to shudder at the violation, he’d released her. Something warm trickled down the side of her neck. Without comment, Gabriel pulled the pillowcase off the pillow, then wadded it up and placed it against her neck.
“Hold this and put pressure on it.”
Numbly, she obeyed. As he’d promised, she hadn’t felt even the slightest twinge of pain. The fact that his glamour had been mucking with her mind without her feeling any awareness of it made her stomach churn a little more.
“Now,” Gabriel said, sounding terribly satisfied with himself, “we wait until Jules wakes up, and he sees just how vulnerable the two of you are.”
JULES AWAKENED WITH A nasty crick in his neck from having slept on it wrong. He rolled onto his back and stretched, working the crick out before he pushed his suffocating coat off his face.
Hannah was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. She looked scared, which was all wrong for Hannah. Surely she had to know she was in no danger from him! He sat up slowly, trying to find the perfect words to set things straight after last night’s fiasco.
Hannah looked away from him, over her shoulder. He followed her gaze and saw Gabriel, standing in the middle of the room and looking smug.
“Marde!” he cried, struggling out from under his makeshift blanket. His instincts spurred him to put himself between Gabriel and Hannah, to protect her, even though he was of little use against the older, stronger vampire.
“Relax, Jules,” Hannah said. She didn’t sound particularly relaxed herself. “He’s been here for over an hour, and he hasn’t killed either one of us yet.”
“Over an hour?” Jules asked. He glanced at the windows, where the curtains were drawn back to reveal the failing light. It had taken him almost a century to be able to move about before sunset. How many centuries would it have taken Gabriel to withstand the full light of day?
“Daylight won’t protect you,” Gabriel said. “Nor will it protect your lady.” He moved Hannah’s hair away from her neck, revealing a pair of neat puncture wounds.
He’d bitten Hannah! He’d scared her, hurt her.
All rational thought fled Jules’s brain. With a primal roar, he launched himself at Gabriel, fangs lowered. A red haze clouded his vision. Blood thundered in his ears, muting all other sounds. Pain blossomed in his stomach, but he ignored it. He couldn’t see Gabriel through the haze, but he could feel him. He charged once more.
More pain, this time from the region of his kidneys. Although he was aware of it, it hardly seemed important. He snapped his jaws, hoping to taste blood as his fangs sank into flesh, but his teeth closed on empty air.
A crushing weight crashed into his back and he fell. His head collided with the floor and he tasted blood. Still the pain was as nothing and he tried to thrash. But something heavy was sitting on his back, knee digging hard into his already wounded kidney. The pain seemed a little more real, more urgent. An arm snaked under his chin. He tried to bite it, but failed. Then, that arm pressed hard on his windpipe and he couldn’t breathe. The red faded from his vision as he struggled for breath. Then, his vision went entirely dark.
HE CAME TO LYING on his stomach on the floor. His lower back throbbed. His chin ached. And every gasped breath hurt on its way down his throat. He groaned and turned his head slightly, his eyes coming to rest on a pair of black motorcycle boots.
“Are you in there, Guardian?” Gabriel asked. “Or are you still berserk?”
Jules blinked away a haze of confusion and pushed himself up to his knees. Hannah, her face ashen-pale, came to squat beside him.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he answered hoarsely, not at all sure he was. He’d always had a volatile temper, had lost control of it before. But never like that. It was … disconcerting.
Hannah helped him to his feet. The pain that had seemed
“You didn’t have to hurt him! I know your glamour is strong enough to stop him.”
Gabriel held up both hands, fingers splayed. “Glamour is a trick of the mind. There has to be a mind there for it to work.”
If Jules didn’t know better, he would swear that Gabriel was as shaken as he was. Then he remembered what had set him off in the first place, and for a moment he teetered on the brink once more.
“Well,” Gabriel said, “I suppose I more than made my point. I did Hannah no harm, so calm down.”
“You touch her again and I’ll kill you,” Jules snarled, the beast within him straining against the leash.
Gabriel looked unimpressed. “If you’re finished pounding your chest, I have a proposal for you.”
Jules’s temper subsided, for now, and he regarded Gabriel warily. “What kind of proposal?”
“You tell me everything you know about Eli and about the Guardians.”
“We already had this conversation,” Jules retorted. “What makes you think I’m going to change my mind now?”
Gabriel’s smile was slow and wicked. “Because in return, I’ll give you Ian Squires.”
IAN’S PLANS HAD PRETTY much gone to shit. The attack against Camille had been a total disaster. He’d known she was powerful, of course, but he’d thought a dozen fledglings ought to at least have a chance against her. Perhaps they would have, if that interfering Guardian hadn’t gotten in the way. But as he looked over his remaining “children,” most of whom were still shell-shocked, he realized they’d probably never stood a chance. He should have waited until they were older and stronger before attacking. It was all Jules’s fault. Again. If only he’d brought the Guardians with him as he was supposed to …