Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I stand in front of my desk, hands gripping the back of my neck as I eye the complete rescue plan that’s laid out in front of me.
Ava has pulled up everything she can find about the building.
The live camera feeds are unavailable as the vampires have destroyed the cameras, but I have older CCTV footage and detailed building plans of the inside.
My office is overflowing with pertinent information, but frustratingly, it might not be enough.
When the pureblood left, all I wanted to do was immediately go and rescue John.
Off the cuff, figuratively storm the castle and kick vampire ass.
But I told myself I couldn’t do that as I’m not Rambo.
No, I needed a plan. Now, an hour later, I have a plan that’ll work, but I have no way of pulling it off.
We’ve tried to contact John’s team of hellhounds, but frustratingly—because of the time constraints—we can’t even get hold of them, as they are all still on mission and off-world.
Eleanor’s on a bodyguard assignment and unable to leave her client.
Ava even attempted to find the honey-eyed angel—not that I’d know if he would help, I haven’t seen him since he healed me—but to no avail. If Ava can’t find someone, no one can.
God, I am such a bad person. I’ve never bothered to find out about his friends.
If he has friends outside of work, that is…
I guess that like me, John is very much alone.
I drop my hands and lean against my desk.
I know everything about his enemies. He has a tonne of those.
Yeah, such helpful information for this situation.
I huff and rub my forehead. What is frustrating is that off the top of my head, I don’t know anyone I can ask to help me.
I care too much to ask anyone to risk themselves in going against an entire House of vampires, vampires that I’ve already backed into a corner—it’s suicide.
I could pay mercenaries, but with the short time frame and the risk of collateral damage…
heck, it looks like it’s back to me playing Rambo.
I glare at the mounds of information and the surrounding plans—what a waste of bloody time.
John is my go-to person. How’s that for irony? If I ever needed muscle I’d ask him, or he’d turn up uninvited with his shiny knives.
I have a better chance of doing this on my own—well, I won’t be on my own, because I will have John—perhaps all I need to do is get to John and heal him. I know the only way to keep a shifter down is silver. If I can get him away from whatever silver they are using, heal him enough so he can shift…
In my cupboard, I still have lots of fancy healing potions. All I’d need to do is hand him a bottle and he’d just have to tip it…he could then shift into hellhound form and chew everyone’s faces off. The pair of us might be able to fight our way out.
Gah, unless he’s got silver in his system, and then a healing potion isn’t going to do shit. His body has to process the silver and that could take a while. The odds aren’t good.
I could hand myself over at ten tonight and hope that Luther will let John go, but when does that ever happen? Bad guys don’t let men like John go.
I look at the clock. Time is quickly ticking away…every second he spends in the vampire’s clutches is a second too long. I wring my hands together and dig my nails into my palms. I fight against the almost-overwhelming panic that is gripping my throat and squeezing my chest.
The little voice in my head is screaming, I did this.
God, I feel so guilty—this is all my fault. If I hadn’t allowed myself to be taken, he wouldn’t have come back to rescue me. Time and time again he helps me, and I let him.
I just use him.
I rub the back of my neck as my heart continues to ache.
I point John at the bad guys, and I use him.
Memories flicker across my mind like a film with the countless times John has saved my life.
It more than makes up for our poor beginning.
I was so hurt, so bloody angry for such a long time, it became a habit to grudgingly accept his help and then push him away. I didn’t even realise how cruel I was.
Oh God, I didn’t mean to, I never thought—I attempt to shelve the disturbing thought to deal with later, as now isn’t the time, but it won’t go away. I use him just as everyone else does. A tear runs down the side of my nose and I angrily swipe it away.
John Hesketh is renowned in creature circles…
his reputation is practically legendary.
We see him as the hellhound, as an extremely deadly weapon.
I remember his words on the day I rejected him: “War is in my blood and war has moulded me. Times change for some people, but not for me. I am a full-blooded warrior—I’m expendable. ”
But he is also a man.
All he has known is war and violence.
And what did I do? I showed him he is also expendable as a mate.
I sink into my chair and I tuck my knees to my chest and hug them as if I can stop the pain from leaking out of my heart. I want nothing more than to slump to the floor and let my body shake from the anxiety and the heartache that I feel for John.
I have another epiphany. I realise something quite profound, and it rocks me to my core…I’m not afraid of him, and I’ve wrongly been clinging desperately to that excuse for years.
I know…I bloody know he will never again hurt me. He can’t. Something inside me, deep down, knows John didn’t hurt me on purpose and he has allowed me to slowly torture him through the years.
Bloody hell, Emma, he’s been punished enough.
God, I have been so bloody selfish. I’ve spent this entire time rescuing strangers when the man who needed me the most—
I grit my teeth. I slam my eyes closed and rock on my chair, as my thoughts berate me. I tug at my hair in realisation. His power terrifies me, our past terrifies me, but it’s a deep-seated, instinctual kind of fear that has no hold on me. Not anymore. No, I’m not afraid of John Hesketh.
There is lust, there is always lust…and yearning. But the fear that rattled me for so long is gone.
I’ve grown. The person who I am today is different from the frightened girl that I once was. I’m not who I was years ago, and that brings me a little peace.
No, I’m not that girl anymore. I’m better, stronger.
I’m strong enough.
I almost disbelieve my thoughts…I let go of my knees and flop back in my chair in shock. I’m strong enough. I’ve been strong enough for years. Now, if John hurt me, I’d hurt him back. Yeah, that’s not healthy, but I’m not human.
I’m a demon and John is my mate.
My mate needs me to fight for him. I cover my mouth with my hand and rock in my chair.
Oh bloody hell.
I am going to rescue the shit out of him. I laugh lightly through my pain; I sit up and square my shoulders. Even if I have to take on every bloody vampire in this world.
I am going to rescue the bloody hellhound, and I’m going to keep rescuing him until he is mine. Mine. Until he knows he’s loved.
Love…wow, I do, I do love him, and I am strong enough to deal with his shit.
My eyes drop back to my plans. I just hope I’m not too late.