Darkness Dawns
Page 27

 Dianne Duvall

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Leaning to one side, she looked up at him over her shoulder.
His eyes found hers, reading the question in them. “Just sleep,” he promised. “I want to be near you.”
And she knew that it was not for the purpose of protection, but because he felt the same pull she did.
“Okay.”
He pressed a light kiss to her temple, then stepped back and dragged his T-shirt over his head.
Sarah swallowed and decided she would forgo the nightgown she had brought with her and sleep in her underwear so she could feel that warm, hard, muscled flesh pressed against her with as little material between them as possible.
They took turns in the bathroom, Sarah first. As she climbed into the bed, she marveled at the soft white sheets and just how big the mattress was. It was comfortable, too, she discovered as she snuggled down against the pillows, wondering why the thought of sharing it with Roland didn’t make her nervous.
Roland emerged from the bathroom, leaving the light on and the door cracked. “The dark curtains prevent sunlight from getting in, so it’s pretty much pitch black in here with the light off. If you rise before me, I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”
“Thank you.”
He doffed his slacks and tossed them onto a chair. Clad only in black boxers, he crossed to the door, muscled thighs rippling with every movement, and flipped the overhead light off.
Sarah was glad the bathroom light was still on so she could watch him approach.
“I always sleep in the buff. Is that all right?”
She nodded and watched, breath held, as the boxers hit the floor. He was so beautiful.
The mattress dipped as he slid beneath the covers. Turning toward her, he propped himself on one elbow and studied her intently. Then, leaning down, he brushed her lips with a light kiss. “Goodnight, Sarah.”
“Goodnight.”
It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he urged her to roll onto her side, facing away from him, and spooned up behind her. His chest was warm and solid at her back. His hips and thighs cradled hers. Even as the erection trapped against her bottom sped her pulse, exhaustion swept over her and seemed to seep into her very bones.
One of Roland’s heavy arms circled her waist and held her tight against him as he buried his face in her hair.
Wrapped comfortably in his embrace, Sarah drifted into sleep.
Seth and David’s search took them well outside the city of Houston. Venturing farther and farther west, they passed through grazing and farmlands and one small town after another until they thought they had finally found what they sought.
Seth stood in the shadows of numerous tall pine and oak trees. It wasn’t even June and the hard clay soil beneath his boots was already cracked with drought. Pine cones, pine nettles, decayed leaves, and an abundance of acorns carpeted the bare ground where grass and weeds should have been growing, but couldn’t. Though the hot, humid breeze carried with it many annoying mosquitoes, none buzzed around his tall, still frame.
Ten yards from the trees’ edge stood a chain-link fence with razor wire strung across the top. A single two-lane road led in and out of a gated entrance guarded by men in camouflage carrying assault rifles. Beyond lay an open field the size of a football stadium, a mostly empty parking lot, and a large three-story structure that was curiously devoid of windows, save those that bordered the front entrance.
There were plenty of surveillance cameras anchored to the building’s roof and more heavily armed men in camouflage on the grounds.
David emerged from the darkness behind Seth without a single rustle of leaves or snapping of twig. “This is it,” he said softly. “I’m certain of it. The woman is being kept in there.”
Seth nodded. Her cries were so loud here he had to partially block them out to keep them from distracting him.
“I circled the building,” his friend continued. “The fence has no weak points. Not that a fence could stop us. Guards walk the perimeter on all sides. As far as I could see, there are no blind spots in the video surveillance.”
We are here, Seth told the woman soothingly. We will be with you soon, little one, and will take you far away from here.
The screaming stopped, the silence that followed almost painful in its absence.
Had she understood him? Could she sense that they were near?
Just a little longer, then you will be free.
She spoke an unintelligible sentence or two. Then her words dissolved into whimpers of pain.
David cocked his head to one side. “Does the fact that it’s guarded either by the military or by mercenaries concern you at all?”
“A little,” Seth answered honestly. “Not because we cannot breech it, but because I cannot puzzle it all out. What is this place? It’s not a prison or a military base, yet soldiers guard it. Why is she kept here? Whoever she is, they have been torturing her for months. Why would they do that?”
“Who are they?” David posed rhetorically.
“Exactly. What information could she possibly have that would make this acceptable and why the hell would she continue to withhold it?”
“You don’t think she’s a vampire, do you? Or an immortal who was taken without our knowledge? Because if the government ever finds out we’re real, we’re going to have some serious problems on our hands.”
“If she were vampire or immortal, I would understand what she is saying.”
“I can’t decipher her speech either and I know almost as many languages as you do. Hers doesn’t sound at all familiar.”
“Well, we’ll know the answers soon enough.”
David nodded slowly. “This is going to get ugly.”
“Most likely,” Seth agreed. “Be careful not to let any of the bullets pass through you and hit our mystery lady.”
“Of course.”
“Shall we?”
While the guards continued their slow stroll about the building, oblivious to the encroaching menace in the shadows, Seth’s and David’s silhouettes blurred, then shifted, becoming something altogether different.
Sarah jerked awake, heart pounding as it often did when something yanked her out of a sound sleep.
What had done it?
Rolling onto her back, she turned her head.
Roland was sprawled on his stomach, arms tucked beneath his pillow, sound asleep. He looked so sweet, so boyishly handsome, she had to smile.
Until a thunk came from the front of the house.
Roland didn’t stir as she slipped out of bed and hurriedly donned her T-shirt and jeans.
It was probably just Marcus up and about or Nietzsche getting into something he shouldn’t, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She would check just in case.
Opening the bedroom door, she crept down the hallway.
A quick peek showed her an empty living room. Sarah continued through it and into the dining room, then the kitchen, keeping an eye out for Nietzsche.
Another thunk sounded, louder this time. It was the sound of a car door closing.
The sun had been up for at least an hour, so it wasn’t vampires.
Sarah told herself not to panic. It could always be UPS or FedEx or the postman making a delivery.
Two more thunks sounded.
Or not. Postal delivery men and women did not arrive in groups of four.
“Pop the trunk,” a man called out.
Gravel crunched as another car pulled up out front.
Oh, crap.
Grabbing the butcher knife from the dish drainer, Sarah ran for the bedroom. She could hear multiple male voices now as four more car doors opened and closed.
Roland’s enemy worked with humans (if you could call those two flunkies she had hit with her shovel humans). He must have sent more here to kill Roland while daylight weakened him.
“Roland!” she hissed in a loud whisper, hurrying into the room and around the foot of the bed. “Roland, wake up!” Grabbing his shoulder, she shook him hard.
Oh, no! She’d forgotten about Marcus!
She glanced toward the bedroom door, then squeaked when Roland turned onto his back, grabbed her by the throat, flipped her over him, and slammed her down on the bed so fast her head swam.
His hand tightened, robbing her of air. His face, above hers, was twisted in a snarl, fangs extended, eyes glowing brightly.
“It’s me,” she croaked, struggling to breathe.
He blinked. The snarl vanished. “Sarah?” His grip loosened abruptly. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” His fingers stroked her abused throat. “I should have told you that I sleep much more deeply when I’m healing from an injury and don’t react well to being startled awake.”
Before she could answer, his gaze strayed to the knife she clutched, then returned to hers filled with betrayal.
Okay, he had woken up with her standing over him with a knife in her hand. It looked damning, true. But the fact that he thought her capable of killing him really pissed her off. Especially after what had passed between them last night.
Sarah placed her empty hand in the center of his chest and shoved. “I didn’t come in here to kill you, damn it!” she whispered with a snarl of her own. “I came in here to warn you!”
Rolling out of bed, he rose smoothly to his feet.
Far less graceful, Sarah scooted off the bed beneath his watchful gaze. “I’m pretty sure your enemy has found you. A noise woke me. I went to check it out and heard two cars pull up out front. At least eight men got out, by the sounds of it.”
“How did they know where to find me?” he asked, the implication being she had told them.
“Ooh, I am so going to kick your ass for that later. I don’t know how they knew. I don’t even know where here is. I was unconscious when you brought me here. Remember?”
Roland had forgotten that. Grabbing the slacks and T-shirt he had discarded last night, he tugged them on and crossed to the armoire. Uncertain what to think, he yanked the doors open and began plucking weapons from the substantial display within.
Sarah joined him, stiff with indignation. The part of him that felt remorse for accusing her vied with that which silently suggested she could have seen his address on a piece of mail and called someone while he slept.