Chapter 21
Nicholas
“What do we do now?”
Kyrin and his men were huddled in conversation at their table, the short one excusing himself, phone pressed to his ear.
“We’re going to finish eating.”
“What? I can’t.”
“You will. We must. Kyrin is already moving his family; if we run scared, it will look like I’ve lost my leverage over him. If we stay, enjoy our meal, it will hopefully make him question his arrogance.”
“Have you? Lost your leverage?”
Nicholas stared down at his plate, unable to meet the response he’d already predicted head-on.
“There is nowhere that anyone can hide from me.”
The risotto was cold, and Nicholas had trouble getting it past the fear lodged in his throat.
“You’re a criminal.” His voice was breathless.
“I think you already knew that, my love.”
“You’re a killer.”
The panic-filled words landed like a gavel.
“Yes, but this time I’m willing to be anything else to keep you.”
The sorrow in his tone chipped at Nicholas’s anger and despair.
“This time?” He looked up at Gabriel.
“Let’s make it home, and I’ll tell you everything.”
They pretended to enjoy their food, Gabriel making the feat look easy. Instead of being impressed by him, Nicholas realized how skilled he was in the act of deceit. What else had he lied to him about?
Laughter rang out from Kyrin’s table, and Nicholas didn’t need to look to know the hair-raising sound came from the wolf himself.
“Why is he laughing?” He didn’t expect Gabriel to have an answer. It was mostly his anxiety speaking.
“To mask his fear.” Gabriel slipped a few large bills from his wallet, dropping them on the table. “We’re leaving.”
“B-but his men.”
“They’re out front, waiting out of sight. You’re going to walk ahead of me. Once you exit the dining room, take the kitchen hallway. I’ll follow close behind.”
“Why behind?” Nicholas didn’t feel capable of moving, let alone leading the way.
“Because from this moment on, you don’t leave my sight.”
“You think he’ll do something to me?” He’d been about to glance over at Kyrin, but thought better of it.
“No, not while we’re here, but I won’t take any chances with you. There’s a door at the rear of the kitchen that leads into an alleyway.”
“Won’t the kitchen staff stop us? Ask us what we’re doing back there?”
“Your only concern is getting to that door.”
“Then what?”
“Marcus will be waiting. We get inside the car and drive off.”
“H-how does he know to be there?” He hadn’t seen Gabriel message him. He was supposed to message him when they were ready to be picked up.
“He knows. He always knows.”
“I… I can’t do this.” He was crippled by fear.
Gabriel’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch him. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I would lay down my own life first.”
Even after all the truths that had been revealed tonight, and countless lies still left to unravel, Nicholas believed him.
He weaved through the dining room, narrowly avoiding a server carrying a tray of drinks. The ringing in his ears grew louder than the din of conversation around him, and he was lightheaded by the time he reached the kitchen’s double doors.
“We’re almost there,” Gabriel said softly.
It was a busy night, leaving the kitchen in utter chaos. Between those shouting orders and those scrambling to obey them, no one noticed him and Gabriel slipping past.
Glass shattered somewhere close by, and Gabriel placed a hand at the small of Nicholas’s back, ushering him onward.
Marcus waited with the engine running, pulling away before Gabriel even got the car door shut behind them.
The minutes ticked by as they sped down one dark street after another, while Gabriel and Marcus seemed to silently communicate through the rearview mirror.
Nicholas wanted to ask if everything was okay, if they’d gotten past the bad guys, but nothing was okay, regardless of what their answer would be.
Something was wrong with him. More wrong than usual. He wasn’t experiencing the typical effects of an adrenaline rush. Instead of being on edge, he wanted to curl up and sleep. It was a fight to keep his eyes open.
Without warning, Gabriel kissed him, the taste of butterscotch and honey crowding his mouth. Nicholas was powerless to pull away, and although the kiss gave him a small rush, he still felt like the shrinking flame of a candle.
“We’re being followed,” Marcus said.
“I know.” Gabriel stared out the blackened back window. Nicholas twisted around, but all he saw was the stretch of pockmarked road.
“Can you lose them?”
“No, and if I keep going…”
Marcus didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to. If he kept driving, he’d lead them straight to Gabriel’s home.
Gabriel took Nicholas’s hand, the silence between them charged as something dark and lethal veiled his expression. He turned back to Marcus. “Lure them to Ashfall.”
They sped through the graffiti-stricken wasteland, dodging the skeletal remains of burnt-out cars.
There were concrete barriers everywhere, leaving only a few options for entry. Marcus flew through the narrow opening of one, losing his side mirror in the process.
He screeched around several corners and through a rusted fence, whizzing past several unnamed streets at breakneck speed. The view outside Nicholas’s window became a blur.
Marcus slammed on the brakes abruptly, throwing the car into reverse to back down a tight passage flanked by two warehouses. Nicholas still couldn’t spot anyone on their tail.
Marcus killed the headlights, both he and Gabriel jumping into action.
“There are six SUVs crammed with armed men in search of us.” Gabriel opened a secret compartment in the floorboard that hid a stockpile of guns and ammunition.
“Four will likely guard the exit points while the others search for us. They’re getting closer as we speak.”
He handed a box of barrel-shaped bullets to Marcus, who loaded the shotgun he was holding. Nicholas stared through the windshield, still not seeing the danger Gabriel spoke of.
“When it’s reported that they have us cornered, the others will converge. We have to end this quickly before we’re too outnumbered to protect you.”
Gabriel withdrew a shoulder holster with two black revolvers stowed inside, shrugging out of his jacket to slip it on.
“Ashfall covers a lot of ground, with at least a few miles between each entryway. That should give us time to dispatch the first contingent, but not much.”
Marcus exited the car, shotgun in hand and two pistols shoved into his waistband. He rounded the vehicle, opening Nicholas’s door.
“I need you to get into the driver’s seat,” Gabriel said, slipping on his black leather gloves. Marcus wore a matching pair.
“But I don’t drive.” He knew the mechanics of driving, but it wasn’t something he was an expert at.
“It doesn’t matter. If someone gets past us, if you see anyone coming down this passage that isn’t one of us, you run them over without hesitation. Do you hear me?”
Nicholas struggled to speak, his breathing labored.
“Do you hear me, Nicholas?”
He nodded.
“I need you to say it, Nicholas.”
“Y-yes.”
“Okay. Now get in front.”
“But what about you? Both of you?”
“Don’t spend one second worrying about us. You focus all your energy on staying alive.”
There was something off about the way he said it, as if there were more than one threat to Nicholas’s life.
“You stay alive. Promise me.”
“I-I promise.”
“Here, take this.” He curled Nicholas’s hand around the hilt of a small gun. “It shouldn’t come to it, but if, for whatever reason, you need to use this, don’t think. You point and you shoot. Stay. Alive.”
Nicholas rushed to the driver’s side, allowing Gabriel to buckle him in.
“The car is armored, so keep the doors locked and the windows closed.” He passed Nicholas his phone.
“We’ll be fine, but if anything goes wrong, if we’re too hurt to get you out of here after Kyrin’s men have been dealt with, call Hamza immediately.
Tell him I said do not fail me. Tell him I said… to try.”
Tears flooded Nicholas’s eyes. This all felt surreal. How had his life come to this?
“Can’t we call him now? Call the cops?”
“The cops can’t help us, my love.” He brushed a finger through Nicholas’s tears before stepping back. There wasn’t any time for more. “Windows closed, doors locked.”
“You’ll b-be back, right?”
“I promise.”
Gabriel strode for the opening of the alley with Marcus by his side, guns drawn.
They stepped out of view, the following silence pulling taut with each passing second. Nicholas engaged the door locks but left the window cracked for now. He needed to hear what was going on.
A booming sound rang out, loud enough to rattle the car. The sound of screeching tires and vehicles colliding pierced through the night.
Car doors opened, and feet hit the pavement as more gunfire erupted.
Nicholas was blind to it all, but he’d never heard anything more horrifying than the screams of dying men.
He took solace in knowing the continued violence meant Marcus and Gabriel must still be alive, or at the very least, one of them.
He eyed the gun on his lap, then the cache of weapons Gabriel had left behind. Could he help in some way? Did he have it in him to hurt someone? Did he have it in him to kill?
Animalistic snarls echoed down the alleyway, and bodies flew past the opening as if hurled by some great force.
Someone rushed into the mouth of the passage, staring right at Nicholas. He straightened in his seat, a trembling hand gripping the gearshift. A shadowy form—seemingly made of black sand—appeared, sweeping the man away in its vortex.
Nicholas rubbed furiously at his eyes to clear them, blinking down the darkened pathway.
Pained grunts and pleas for mercy echoed all around. The sound of wetness, of blood splattering the concrete, reached Nicholas’s ears. The metallic scent of it filled the air.
He counted the seconds, wanting the violence to end but terrified of what that would mean. He did the only thing he knew how to do. He prayed.
Ten minutes passed, enough time for the other men to arrive. As though he’d manifested them, engines accelerated in the distance, succeeded by a staccato of gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off the road straight ahead, and an inhuman roar rocked the earth. Nicholas prayed harder.
Someone cried out for help, the plea cutting off abruptly as a headless body landed at the entrance of the alley. A clawed hand wrapped around the corpse’s ankle, yanking it away and leaving a river of blood behind.
“Oh God.” Nicholas clutched the steering wheel, terrified.
More men screamed, and what sounded like snapping bones took the place of gunfire. Nicholas’s hearing had never been so acute, his sense of smell never so keen as the scent of death consumed the car interior.
Before long there was silence, an eerie silence that left Nicholas shaken.
“Please,” he begged, willing Gabriel and Marcus to appear. They didn’t. No one did.
What if they were hurt? What if more of Kyrin’s men were on their way while he sat there praying for a miracle?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the vehicle, gun wobbling in his dominant hand.
Sticking close to the brick wall, Nicholas crept to the opening of the alleyway. His body felt heavy with sickness, but he forced himself forward. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw.
Bodies lined the street. Some whole with limbs twisted at awkward angles, some scattered in pieces.
Nicholas dry-heaved, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
He stepped around a pool of blood, avoiding the discarded appendages as he scanned the gruesome scene for Gabriel.
Headlights blinded him as he made his way toward the abandoned SUVs. They’d been left haphazardly in the middle of the road, doors hanging open, glass blown out, guts decorating the roofs and hoods.
From what he could tell, the dead men wore cargo pants or jeans. Not suits like Marcus and Gabriel. He heard movement coming from behind the two collided SUVs and followed the sound with his heart in his throat, the overhead streetlight flickering.
Gabriel crouched behind the crash site, cradling a man, his face buried in the crook of his neck. Marcus was in the same position a few yards away.
The breath froze in Nicholas’s lungs, and the gun clattered to the ground.
Both Gabriel and Marcus’s heads snapped up, their eyes glowing white and gold.
“Nicholas,” Gabriel breathed, the movement revealing elongated teeth.
He rose to his feet, crimson bathing him from head to hip. His pupils were once again black, and his teeth now their appropriate length—or had they always been?
“You-you’ve been shot.” The sight of the fist-sized hole in his abdomen cleared all other thoughts from Nicholas’s mind.
Gabriel stepped over the carnage at his feet, and Nicholas stumbled away at the sight of the wound repairing itself from the inside out.
He tripped over a disfigured body, landing in something wet. Blood soaked his hands, stirring to life a craving that terrified him.
“Breathe through your mouth,” Gabriel instructed, suddenly appearing in front of him. Nicholas could barely hear him over the rhythmic pulsing in his ears.
Headlights appeared from behind, and Gabriel lifted him into his arms. Pitch black crept along the edges of Nicholas’s vision until only a pinprick of this world remained.
“Stay with me, Nicholas.”
Nicholas tried, clinging to the pain cramping his stomach. They were on the move, the car jolting as if they’d run over speed bumps—or bodies.
“Stay with me,” Gabriel repeated, pressing something slick against Nicholas’s mouth. Nicholas grabbed his forearm, fingers digging in as he drank on instinct.
They raced for Gabriel’s home as if chasing death, trying to beat it.
Relief coursed through Nicholas’s veins, just enough to help him hang on, enough to keep him barely lucid. He realized it was Gabriel’s wrist he suckled from, and he could no longer ignore the truth he’d been denying.
It wasn’t Gabriel’s kisses that tasted of butterscotch and honey… it was his blood.