Archangel's Viper
Page 4

And now the bastard was beeping his horn at her.
“Stop the car,” Venom said, his voice ice cold. “I’ll deal with this.”
Holly made it a point to disagree with everything he said on principle, but the idiot in the other vehicle was taking hazardous behavior to a whole new level. He could cause a crash—and most of the other drivers around her probably weren’t vampires who could take far more damage than humans.
She pulled over onto the verge. The SUV screeched to a stop beside her, rather than behind her. “Great, looks like the idiot has road rage issues.” Holly shoved open her door without regard for any marks it’d leave on the SUV’s gleaming finish. The space was narrow, but workable for a woman of her size.
Venom was already on her side of the car, his speed vicious. But she got out in time to see the doors of the other vehicle slam open and a harsh male voice call out, “Grab the girl!”
Grab the girl?
Not. Fucking. Happening.
Holly kicked the gun right out of the first goon’s hand. The second was flying back against his car before she saw Venom move. The third took one look at Venom and went sheet white. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
Barely hearing the fearful cry, Holly snapped a kick at the first goon’s jaw, slamming his head sideways. But he was strong, a vampire of at least three hundred. He kept coming at her. Holly couldn’t use any of her new abilities when things were moving so fast, had to fight using only the skills she’d learned from Honor and Ashwini and Elena.
All three Guild Hunters, all three used to fighting against stronger, faster opponents.
Holly was smaller than all of her trainers. ’tite Hollyberry. That was what Janvier called her. The kids at school had just said “short.” Holly didn’t care right now. She cared only that the hunters and Janvier—and Venom—had taught her to fight in a way that used her size. She ducked under the goon’s meaty fist and brought up a two-fisted punch of her own into his gut, right in the sweet spot.
His agonized groan was music to her ears . . . right before he was thrown back so hard against his vehicle that he left a person-sized dent in the metal. It matched the dent left by goon number two.
“I had that.” Her chest heaved, her blood hot.
After straightening his unrumpled suit jacket, Venom said, “You’re welcome.” He nudged at one of the crumpled goons with his designer-shoe-clad foot. “This one looks the most alive. Let’s see what he has to say.”
It turned out to not be much.
“There’s a bounty to grab her.” The goon was all but quivering in front of Venom, his pallid white skin flushed and blotchy.
“How much? And who’s behind it?”
“I don’t know. Mike had the details but I think you bashed his brains in.”
“He’ll wake up. Eventually.” A cold smile. “Then he’ll discover the true meaning of pain.”
The goon’s teeth began to chatter. “I swear we weren’t going to hurt her,” he sobbed. “Just take her for the bounty.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “I’m right here, moron.”
Said moron was still frozen in front of Venom—and she knew Venom wasn’t using his ability to mesmerize. “That’s all I know,” the guy blubbered out of a mouth that was swelling up from the gash on his lip. “We stalked her, realized that she was dropping off her sister today and would be driving back alone.”
“Didn’t you get a clue when I detoured to the private airfield?” Everyone knew it belonged to the Tower.
The goon’s eyes didn’t even flick to her as he said, “She drives like a maniac.”
Venom laughed. “In that we agree.” His laugh had the thick-necked goon flinching. “Now, the rest.”
The man spoke so fast his words rolled into one another. “We lost her right after the main airport and, after fifteen minutes of searching, decided to pull over at a gas station, get some coffee, make a new plan. We’d just got back in the SUV when we saw her car fly past.”
And the goons had figured it was their lucky day, too hyped up on the hunt to think about why Holly wasn’t already in Manhattan when she’d taken off so fast that they’d lost her. Not bothering to shake her head at their incompetence, she said, “How were you supposed to contact the person who put out the bounty?”
“I think Mike has an address to e-mail a photo to.” He swallowed, licked his lips. “You know, for proof.”
Going to the goon whose head was crushed in on one side badly enough that she could see brain matter leaking out—gross, but far from the worst she’d seen—Holly searched his pockets until she found his phone. She unlocked it using his thumbprint, then scanned his text messages.
Nothing.
A reminder popped up onto the home screen before she could check his e-mails: Kidnap Holly Chang. E-mail photo. An e-mail address followed.
Taken aback at the idea that this vampire had needed a reminder of his intention to kidnap a woman—I mean, it didn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d forget—she showed Venom the note.
He met her eyes. “Can you pretend to look beaten and defeated?”
No. She was never going to look that way again.
“No,” he said softly, “I didn’t think so.”
Shoulders unknotting when he let it go, she thought quickly. “I can look unconscious.” She pulled a few random hunks of hair out of her ponytail, then climbed into the backseat of the SUV and slumped her head to the side—one of the goons had torn her brand-new top, so with that and the messy hair, she looked appropriately bedraggled.
Venom took the shot using Mike-the-forgetful-goon’s phone, e-mailed it through. They still didn’t have a response by the time a Tower team arrived to take the bounty hunters into custody. A tow truck followed, to haul away the SUV—Venom had damaged the engine when he’d thrown one of the goons on top of the hood.
“Whoever put out the bounty might have people watching the ones most likely to succeed,” he said once they were back in the car and on their way to the Tower, the silent phone in the cup holder. “If so, the lookout would’ve seen us take down the bounty hunters.”
Holly snorted. “If those three were judged the most likely to succeed, it’s a seriously low bar.”
“Not a surprise, kitty. Only the stupid or the desperate would go after a woman who belongs to the Tower.”
Holly tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Goons might not know that,” she murmured. “I’ve only had a room in the Tower for seven months, and I try to keep my connection low-key.” The weakest immortals, the ones who haunted the shadows, were aware she knew powerful vampires and angels and could get their concerns heard, but Holly wasn’t considered a threat in her own right.
What a con I’m running.
She wanted to tear the steering wheel off its housing, wanted to scream out her rage. Too bad that super strength wasn’t one of the abilities bestowed on her courtesy of her tainted blood . . . or that she couldn’t forget the nightmare of her creation. She hated the emotions that had hit her during the kidnapping attempt, emotions that yet pulsed in her body.
Uram had taken her while she’d been heading out to the movies with her friends, the six of them laughing and talking about grabbing mint chocolate frappuccinos. She’d been wearing a flirty little yellow dress, and strappy high heels in an effort to make herself taller, and her makeup had been immaculate—it had taken an hour to apply.
Mia had helped her with her eyeliner.
Then had come the horror.
That feeling of utter helplessness, it was a stone in her gut, a memory she couldn’t wipe after it had surged its way to the surface some two and a half years after the abduction, as if her mind had decided she hadn’t faced horror enough.
More than eighteen months on from that searing instant of recall, and the nightmare echoes refused to fade. She’d screamed until she was hoarse, had fought to save her friends, but Uram had gutted them one by one in front of her, as if displaying his art to an appreciative audience. Holly had been the only one left, a bloody, naked, half-mad mess when Elena found her.