Destined for an Early Grave
Page 13

I bit my lip. "What if it is me that's giving away our location? What if everything I know gets repeated to Gregor in my sleep somehow? I'd be putting everyone in danger by just waking up! And I can't seem to get a grip on myself."
My voice cracked. The room blurred as my eyes filled up. See? Emotional train wreck, just like I'd described.
"I think I should go to Don," I said finally, wiping my eyes. "He has facilities I don't know about, and they're built to withstand bunker-buster bombs. I could wait there until things calmed down. And then I wouldn't be jeopardizing everyone around me - "
"You're not going anywhere."
Bones filled the doorframe behind Spade. I hadn't even heard him come up the stairs; he'd moved almost as silently as Fabian. Green glinted in his eyes, and his expression was granite.
"In case you weren't paying attention, Kitten, I'll say it again. You're not going anywhere. Not to Don, or to anyone else. You're mine, so don't mention leaving again."
This wasn't a tender declaration of "I need you here with me." No, it was the dispassionate pronouncement of "You're my ball and chain, and it's my ankle you're shackled to!" Bones turned and walked away after making the statement, not bothering to say anything else.
Spade squeezed my hand before sliding off the bed, looking at me almost pityingly before he left.
"It will be all right."
I didn't argue, but I didn't believe him. Bones hadn't even given me a chance to apologize for earlier before he'd stalked off. Everything that mattered to me - my relationship with Bones, my independence, being there for my friends, taking down murderers - all that was in tatters. Most of that was Gregor's fault. Some of it, however, was mine. At least I could do something about that.
First things first. I had to get my wildly swinging emotions under control so that when I saw Bones later, we could talk things out. I concentrated on my emotional defenses, strong barriers forged from my childhood days when even my mother rejected me, then honed and thickened over the years when I'd left Bones. They were as familiar to me as my skin, and right now, they were the only things that could hold me together.
When I felt grounded enough, I began to plan. I'd start with a long, hot shower, then do some training to blow off steam. If I was lucky, I'd get Ian to spar with me. Tearing into him sounded like a good start, and he'd been spoiling for a rematch since the day I beat him.
Well, Ian, I thought, today's your lucky day!
And then after that, I'd talk to Bones. Try to hash things out between us before they got any worse.
Chapter Twelve
IAN GLOWERED UP AT ME. "IF IT WEREN'T SO bleedin' close to dawn, I'd make you beg for mercy."
I was on top of him, my legs on either side of his waist. He might have liked it under other circumstances. Right now, though, with a knife sticking out of his chest, he had other things on his mind.
"Sore loser," I responded, yanking the blade out and leaping to my feet. "Come on. Again."
"This is a poor substitute for shagging," he grumbled, rising and frowning at the rent in his shirt. "You've ruined it."
"I told you to just take it off." With a shrug.
Ian grinned at me. "Ah, but I thought you only wanted to enjoy the goods, poppet."
He'd kept up a steady stream of comments and innuendoes designed to throw me off my game. I didn't take it seriously. I knew it was just how he operated.
"Keep talking, pretty boy. It only makes your silent moments better."
That drew a laugh as we circled each other. Ian's eyes glittered with expectation. He loved a nasty brawl. It was one of his admirable qualities.
"Find me pretty, do you? I always knew it. Alas, Reaper, we'd have had a grand time of it before, but you had to marry Crispin. Now you're off-limits forever, but it would have been fun. Very fun."
"You never stood a chance, Ian."
He ducked the knife I flung at him with another dirty chuckle.
"Poor aim, sweet. Missed me by a meter. Still chafing at the thought of how easily I could have bedded you before Crispin came back into your life? Do you really think you could have resisted me for long if I'd set out to have you?"
Arrogant bastard. I charged at him, but Ian sidestepped me at the last instant. Too late I knew I'd made a mistake. His foot swept out, his fists followed, and I was knocked off-balance. An elbow crashed into my back. It dropped me to the floor with him right on top of me. He yanked my arms back, bending them the wrong way, and his mouth latched onto my neck.
"One flick of my fangs and your throat would be torn open," he murmured before releasing me. I flipped over, wincing, to find him staring down at me with objective triumph.
"Temper, temper," he said. "It's both your weakness and your strength."
I scrambled to my feet, moving slower from what had to be broken bones in my rib cage. My rotator cuffs were hyperextended as well. They burned almost as much as my ribs. "One out of three, Ian. I wouldn't be so quick to brag."
"I knew I'd beat you eventually," he countered. "Everyone makes mistakes, given enough time."
I heard footsteps approach, and my mother came into the room. She looked at the haphazardly rearranged furniture, at me, then at Ian.
"Catherine, how long are you going to be bashing around down here?" she asked.
"Aren't you going to say hallo, poppet?"
Ian fairly purred the question. I mouthed wordless dire threats to him over her shoulder. He just grinned at me.
She ignored him, my irregular breathing registering to her. "Are you all right, Catherine?"
Two could play the taunting game over her. For effect, I wheezed noisily.
"No I'm not. Ian broke my ribs."
"Tattletale." He smirked, knowing what I was doing.
Instead of being overcome with concern, she tapped her foot.
"You shouldn't have let him get that close. Maybe since you quit your job, you're losing your edge."
Son of a bitch. I puffed up in outrage. Ian stifled a laugh.
Then the television stuffed into the far corner of the room turned on. I glanced around in confusion, expecting to see some newcomer with a remote control, when Ian let out a curse.
"Bollocks."
"Huh?"
He grasped my arm with one hand and my mother's with the other. My protest was cut off with his next muttered words.
"Dawn. Why does every ghoul feel the need to attack at dawn?"
Ian propelled us out of the room and up the basement staircase. From every corner of the house, people were coming out of their rooms and the TVs were on. Not blaring, just set to low volumes. It hit me then what the synchronized powering of the televisions was. An alarm. A subtle one.
"Who's attacking?"
"Can't stay and chat about it," Ian ground out, rounding the next corner to nearly collide into Bones. "Ah, Crispin. Feeling frisky, I trust? It promises to be a busy morning."
"So it does," Bones said, landing a heavy hand on my shoulder. "You're coming with me, Kitten. Ian, take her mum below."
"Wait."
I tugged at one of the knives on Bones's belt. He was wearing several. Maybe this wasn't so unexpected after all. "My ribs are fractured and I've got some torn ligaments. You'll have to give me blood so that doesn't slow me down."
Ian let out a mocking grunt. "I won't wait to hear the rest of this."
"Nor should you," Bones shot back. "Kitten, this way."
He ignored the knife I held up and drew me up to the third level of the house. At first I thought he had weapons waiting for me. Or protective gear, Bones was big on me wearing that. But when we entered the bedroom and he pushed an unseen button in the closet, revealing a small room I hadn't known was there, I understood.
And was furious.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm hiding in this box."
"I don't have time to argue," Bones cut me off, shoving me inside. "There are monitors, a phone, your cell, and more of your belongings. These are ghouls attacking. With those rumors Majestic said were swirling around, who do you think they'll target? You, and anyone guarding you. If you remain out of sight, it will improve the chances of everyone fighting, so for God's sake, Kitten, stay here."
One glance at Bones's blazing eyes told me that awake or lights out, I would be in this shelter.
"You have a monitor facing this door," he went on, tapping another button on an interior panel. "If anyone you don't recognize tries to get in, you hit this. Now back away."
Without waiting for me to comply, he pushed me farther into the room and hit the exterior device. The door slid shut with a heavy clinking sound of locks settling into place. They quieted with a finality that was appropriate for the settings. I was sealed in.
Something caught my attention farther back in this shoe box. Monitors. There were six of them, all with different angles. One pointed toward the closet exterior, as Bones had said, but the others were aimed at the outer grounds. It startled me to see the exterior of the house, because it spoke volumes about where we were. No wonder I hadn't been allowed to even step outside. From the looks of it, I was in a small castle. I hadn't been able to tell that from the inside, considering how modern the interior was.
Dawn was just breaking. The sparse lightening of the sky made it easier to see the rush of activity outside, since it didn't appear that the cameras had night vision. Most of the angles were fixed at points around the castle, but one was aimed at the sloping hill of the lower yard.
I gasped. There were so many of them.
Over a hundred ghouls marched with lethal steadiness up the uneven ground. They were all armed. Some held even more deadly devices than guns or knives, like rocket launchers. How many people were here? Bones, Spade, Rodney, Ian...and a few guards, Spade had said. Against such numbers, it would be a slaughter. Why didn't they land-mine the lawn? I raged. Why aren't there more people here? And why are they lining up in front of the house like f**king targets, instead of barricading behind the walls!
A man strode up from the ranks and approached the castle. He was of medium height, with salt-and-pepper hair and a commanding manner. He was saying something, but the damn monitors didn't have sound. The room was too reinforced for my ears, so I couldn't hear on my own, either. Whatever it was, it didn't appear to be well received. Bones pointed an emphatic finger at the man, and it wasn't his index one. The guy spat at the ground before whirling around and returning to the others.
With or without sound, it was clear that negotiations wouldn't happen.
The first of the machine guns began firing. As one, the vampires took to the air, while Rodney manned a machine gun of his own. I was relieved to see some unfamiliar faces come from the castle to join Bones and the others. The vampires disappeared from the screens for a few seconds, reemerging as they bombarded the ghouls like their bodies were inhuman missiles. When they flew off in bursts of speed, either the ghoul would be headless on the ground, or dazed.
It was an incredible sight to see. From my rapid calculation, there were a dozen vampires guarding the castle, and each one of them struck with the force of a guided tornado.
Except it didn't appear to be enough. The ghouls who survived the fierce one-on-ones didn't stay dazed long. They shook themselves off and began their grim march forward. Step by step, they were covering the distance to the castle. Their numbers were lessening, true, but they had an obvious determination. Bones and the others might be formidable, but math was math. There weren't enough of them.
After about twenty minutes of fierce fighting, the ghoul spokesman fired a flare, illuminating the still-muted sky in a blaze. I tensed, my hand pressed against the unforgiving screen as if that could offer assistance. It didn't, of course. And the others forces began emerging from beneath the cover of the lower hills.
I screamed, vaulting up and tugging at the door to my sealed cage. It didn't even budge. I started searching to find the lever to open this trap. There had to be one.
My heart was pounding so loudly, it seemed to be screaming along with me. Another hundred ghouls had just come from the concealment of the landscape. They had attacked in two waves, a clever, deadly plan. Pick just before dawn when the vampires were weakest. Have them expend their power on the first segment, draining them further. Then, when they were at their weariest, close in for the kill. And here was I, locked in a safe room, utterly helpless to do anything but watch.
A ring shattered my concentration. With my hammering pulse, I actually waited a second to see if it was real or imagined. It sounded again, and I had to wade through the spilled items I'd flung about to find its source. Underneath some clothes was my cell phone. I grabbed at it, hoping against hope that it was Don. Maybe he could help. Send some troops, even if I didn't know where the f**k we were.
"Catherine."
The voice reached me before I'd even had time to gasp hello. It wasn't my uncle.
"Gregor."
I was breathing heavily, a combination of my broken ribs, terror over losing Bones, and my futile search for a way out.
"Don't be afraid, my wife."
His tone was soothing, but it had an undercurrent of something else. What, I didn't know or care.
"I don't have time for this..." Spaces were needed to catch my breath. "Have to get out of here..."
"You are in no danger."
That made a harsh laugh escape me. "Boy, are you wrong."
"They won't harm you, Catherine."