Chapter 27
Serenity
I woke up with my vision blurry and body floating.
Hanging bent over, I watched a dirt path pass underneath me, bathed in dull orange haze.
There was patchy, shadowed grass on either side and the faint scent of smoke thickening the air as I continued to defy gravity in a fast, bobbing rhythm.
A lump pulsed on the back of my head, but that was way down my list of worries.
For one thing, I couldn’t see my own arms, my hands, the dangling hair tickling my jaw… nothing. I could feel my limbs swaying, just not see them. What the hell was going on?
As my brain fog cleared, the image of the fiery roof collapsing on Dagger came surging back. His agonized screams clanged around my aching head. Oh God, poor Dagger! Please don’t let him be…
“Would you fucking hurry up?” Conrad’s voice, fizzling with anger, reminded me I didn’t have the luxury to think about anyone else right now. “I’d like to get there some time this year.”
I had deathly serious problems of my own. Conrad, that monstrous sack of shit, was carrying me over his invisible shoulder. And whatever his intended destination, I knew all too well the horrors waiting there.
“You try marching with a bullet stuck up your ass.” Gasps and guttural groans strained Armand’s usual smug tone. I could just make out the tips of his shiny Chelsea boots hobbling a few feet behind us. “I want to kill that fucking bitch.”
While my mind scrambled for a way to escape, I closed my eyes and pretended to still be out cold, hoping they couldn’t detect my rising heart rate.
My shredded nerves and horrendous thoughts ratcheted up my adrenaline, forced my heart into a game of twister, its beat contorting, slowing, and sprinting sporadically as I tried not to give myself away.
“You’ll do no such thing. Not unless you want to lie on the slab beside her.”
“You and your obsession with this little cunt’s blood. She can’t be worth all this trouble. Just drain her dry, throw her in a ditch, and let’s—”
“Don’t make me have to remind you who’s coven leader,” Conrad snapped. “Shut the fuck up and consider yourself lucky I didn’t make you swim, you moaning fuck. You’re not exactly a light load.”
“If you’d share a little of that magic,” Armand mumbled so low I thought I might have misheard, “then I could’ve walked on w—”
“What’d you say?” Conrad snapped, tone cold.
“I said, uh, what about that big shifter cop? He saw our faces, all the workers too. He knows. What if he—”
“The dead know nothing,” Conrad said, snickering.
No. He couldn’t be. Not Mr. Bad Boy. He must have gotten out somehow. Some way.
Which is what I knew I had to do right now. I wasn’t going back to a living nightmare of brutal vampire feedings. Fuck no.
“Why’d you park across the bridge?” Armand griped. “This is like training for those stupid fucking human Olympics.”
“It’s right up there, moron. Hurry up and get the trunk open.”
Goosebumps prickled along my invisible arms. I let them keep swinging down Conrad’s unseen back as I steeled myself, preparing to kick, gouge, scream and bite, not knowing how much good—oh, shit, I’d heard him talk about a badly wounded knee for years.
He liked to brag while he drank his fill, like I’d somehow feel honored to be savaged by someone so tough.
The tendon tear was a parting gift from his former coven leader when Conrad had staged a coup.
His right knee had been slashed to the bone by his outgoing boss’s silver katana sword and never recovered fully.
Peering discreetly so I wouldn’t alert Conrad, I gauged the rough location of his see-through knee. I interlocked my fingers and made my hands into a single fist, pushing the scant odds of success out of my mind.
I could hear the double bleep of a car being unlocked by remote, and Armand murmuring something about the trunk being too good for me as he clunked it open.
It was now or never.
Wham! Struggling forward and taking him by surprise, I hammered my combined fists into the back of Conrad’s leg, making him curse, stumble, and drop me onto dusty asphalt.
The impact thumped my side, and I wheezed as I struggled to my feet.
Conrad reappeared out of thin air about a foot in front of me, wagging his finger slowly and sporting a crocodilian grin.
“Well, well, that actually hurt. Naughty little toy.” He spread his arms wide, his fangs glistening as he gestured around the deserted and dimly lit car park. “Who do you think’s going to help you?”
I could see my body again, which was poor comfort as Armand’s powerful grip took hold of my arms, forcing them behind my back.
I kicked and screamed, my lungs finding renewed vigor at being pushed toward the gaping car trunk.
Flailing my head back, I caught him on the nose.
He shook me from side to side then tightened his hold.
“You’ll pay for that, you little cunt. Get in there. ”
“Help! Somebody help!” My voice wavered but was loud in the cool night air.
Conrad kicked my thrashing legs to the side and clamped his clammy palm around my windpipe, smiling.
“I always did find your feisty human spirit amusing, but”—he moved his angular, foxy face within millimeters of mine and hissed—“nobody’s coming to save you.
And nobody’s taking you away from me ever ag—”
Then, from the shadows’ edge just beyond the car park, came the deepest, meanest growl I’d ever heard.
Prowling into the sole streetlight’s meager glow, its yellow eyes glinting and jaws lined in jagged teeth, was a jaguar that could dwarf a tiger.
Its striking yellow and black rosette pattern rippled with every move of its muscled haunches.
Hackles spiked between its shoulder blades, and ivory claws scratched at the asphalt, sharpening them for a fight.
“It’s that fucking cop again!” Armand cried, releasing my arms to distance himself from the angry cat. “How the fuck are you not even burnt?”
Dagger had survived!
A surge of hope filled my lungs, and all my fury poured out in a vicious shriek. “Dagger! Kill them! Kill them both!”
Conrad’s smugness melted. Eyes bulging, he backed toward the car with Armand following suit. The ancient gangster spoke slowly, his gaze never leaving the oncoming jaguar, whose growl was steadily raising to a roar.
“I’m not done with you, my sweetmeat,” Conrad said, an arm raised to point at me. “This is just an interlude.”
He bolted for the car, Armand behind him, swerving around the open trunk for the passenger door.
Gunning the engine, they peeled out with a screech of tires as the enormous jaguar hammered the asphalt and leaped.
Its back paws slammed the trunk closed as the front pair smashed the back windshield, roaring and yowling.
The sedan spun in a hard semi-circle, shaking the furious cat off. It tumbled and landed on its feet, unphased, not giving chase.
Instead, it turned to face me.
“Erm, Dagger?” The creature chuffed from deep in its belly, like a grumbling man.
I really hoped my guess was right, and this wasn’t some random killer jungle cat.
You could never be sure what the hell you’d bump into in New Omaha at night.
I held my breath, wondering if I’d just swapped a frying pan for a fire.
But it bounded toward me like a house kitten, lapping at my hands with its sandpaper tongue and rubbing its hulking body against my midriff and thighs, back and forth.
I reached out with a shaky hand and stroked its damp, velvety fur. Overjoyed at my rescue and now sure this huge cat had no intention of making me its dinner, I exhaled hard, falling to my knees from exhaustion and stress.
Hugging its chunky neck tight, so glad to be alive and free, I cooed, “Dagger, thank God you’re okay.
” I scratched between his ears before I realized I’d baby-talked him like Carrot and cleared my throat.
“Did you swim the Missouri to rescue me? Thank you so, so much. Oh God, I’m so glad you came, just in the nick of time. ”
The cat began to alter in shape while I continued to hug it tight, its patterned fur changing to smooth, naked skin. Its shift back to human form showed I had in fact been wrong. But I was no less happy to see who I held in my arms.
It was Hunter. “The Missouri’s nothing,” he panted through a drained smile. “I’d swim every ocean in the world just to keep you safe.”
“Hunter? How—”
He leaned up from my embrace and kissed me firmly on the lips. “Little Dancer.” He breathed against my mouth. “Don’t worry about me.” He pulled back to scan me, his thumb tracing my jaw. “Are you all right?”
“Thanks to you.” Clasping his head on both sides, I kissed him hard, trying to imbue it with every bit of gratitude and every ounce of joy I felt at the sight of his face. But when I pressed myself against his chest, he winced. I drew back, gasping. “You’re okay though, right? You look exhausted.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, hugging his ribs. “Give me a few minutes. I haven’t shifted in a very, very, long time. You’re sure you’re okay? They didn’t hurt you?”
“A few scrapes and bruises. Nothing compared to the suffering you saved me from. I’ll be forever grateful.”
He cupped my cheek. “And I’ll be forever yours.”
My breath caught. There was nothing casual about forever. A figure of speech maybe? A heat of the moment exaggeration?
But when my stuttering brain caught up, I found I sort of liked the ring of it.
Placing my hand on top of his, I rubbed his big, strong fingers and gazed into his warm brown eyes.
“Then I’ll be a lucky girl.” No one had stuck around in my life.
Maybe, no matter what we became or didn’t become to each other, we could be… present.
Inflamed by his brilliant smile, I diverted my gaze down his naked, muscular body, embarrassed at my loose lips as I found his lap and blurted, “Holy shit, you’re huge.”
“Did someone call the police? I’m here. The walkways over that river suck ass,” a familiar but croaky voice shouted. This time it really was Dagger, thank God. His legs looked terribly burned and he was swaying, but I was so happy he was alive.
Bryce was several feet to Dagger’s side, his expensive outfit stained and ripped. What the hell?
Still smiling weakly, Hunter sighed and murmured under his breath as Dagger hobbled closer. “Ahhh fuck, trust this prick to ruin the moment.”
Dagger raised a finger and slurred, “I don’t ruin moments. I steal them.” He snickered through his nose like an ornery kid, slapped his own thigh, and then let out a sharp “ah!” of pain.
Bryce rolled his eyes. “God, isn’t that the truth.” He took Dagger by the shoulders, then looked to me and Hunter, saying out of the side of his mouth, “Someone took way too many painkillers. I think it’s time for the hospital.”
Suppressing a smile, I got to my feet and helped Hunter up as best I could. Somehow, thanks to these three, I’d come out of this nightmare the least worse for wear of all of us.