The Darkest Kiss
Page 31

I made my way through the trees and the shadows, stepping carefully but quickly, keeping low where possible. It was tempting to shift to wolf shape, because she was quieter and far more deadly in the forest. But if Young happened to see me and attack, my wolf would be at a distinct disadvantage. Teeth against fist and feet - especially when they had the speed of a vampire behind them - was never a good thing.
The blood and fear scents were growing stronger, and with them came the sound of voices. One of them I recognized. Liander.
He was alive. I briefly closed my eyes and said a silent thank-you to fate.
And yet the knowledge didn't ease my tension one little bit. Because there was another voice riding the wind besides Liander's, and that one didn't sound particularly calm or sane. I eased up on the speed and, using a rock as cover, peeked out into the clearing.
Liander and another man were tied by their wrists to a huge branch that overhung the clearing. Both men had been stripped naked, and their feet hung several inches off the ground. It had to hurt to be suspended like that, but there was little evidence of pain on Liander's somewhat-battered features. His body was littered with bruises, evidence of the fight he'd put up and the pain Rhoan had felt, but the thin man hanging beside him was almost unmarked, except for his wrists. Though I suspected the bloody condition of those were not through anything Young had done, but rather his desperate writhing to escape.
I had no idea where the other captives were. They certainly weren't in the clearing, but then, the van Young had driven up in was nowhere in sight, either. Maybe he was keeping everyone else tucked away to play with another day. Quinn would find them, and keep them safe. I doubted if even a bhuta would have much hope against someone who had spent two hundred years as a vampire assassin.
I couldn't see Young, but I had no doubt his was the other voice I'd heard. Part of me wanted to rush out there right now, to grab Young and pummel him senseless for what he'd done to Liander and the other man. But there were still two minutes of Rhoan's five to go, and I had no doubt my brother would pummel me if I didn't do exactly what he asked. Besides, not only was he the senior guardian here, he had a whole lot more at stake. I silently blew out a breath and settled in to wait.
And I was betting the two minutes would seem like an eternity.
I've found the van and the other people who were kidnapped, Quinn said.
I hesitated, fearing the worst, then asked, Are they all alive?
Yes. Beaten and bloody, but alive. I won't move the van because Young will hear it, but you can be sure he won't get near these people again.
That was one vow I had total faith in. Thanks.
Just be careful, Riley.
Now you're starting to sound like Jack.
His warm laughter ran through my mind. My lips curved into a smile, but it quickly faded as Young came into view. His thin face contorted with rage and lank hair slapped at his back and shoulders. His hand struck his thigh in time with his movements, and with every blow the scent of blood became stronger. I frowned, concentrating my gaze on his hand and seeing for the first time the sheer length of his fingernails. They had to be a good inch long and were razor sharp. Every time he slapped himself they were tearing through the fabric of his stained jeans and into his flesh.
He didn't seem to notice. Or care.
The image of Ivan's back rose - the torn and bloodied strips of flesh that hadn't appeared cut by a knife or a whip. Was that how Young was killed? I hadn't thought to ask Vinny that question.
"You have no idea what these people did to me."
Young's voice was high and uneven. He continued to pace the length of the clearing as he spoke, slapping away at his thigh. The scent of blood continued to grow, and so did the mad spark in his eyes. Working himself up to the task almost at hand, I realized suddenly.
"And you have no idea how they wrecked my life."
"No one can understand what you've been through," Liander said, his voice very calm and very even despite the pain he had to be in. "And you have every right to be angry."
He was trying to empathize with Young and diffuse the situation. Worth a try, I guess, but Young wasn't your everyday madman. He'd had more than twenty years to fantasize about his revenge, and I very much doubted that a calm, sympathetic tone would help.
"Those bastards left me for dead. They sliced me open and left me for dead." Blood splattered wetly now when he slapped his thigh, and his teeth had begun to protrude from his lips. "But I didn't die. I found a way to live, and I will have my revenge. On everyone."
"If you didn't die, then you weren't meant to. Fate obviously had other plans for you."
As Liander spoke, his gaze went from Young to the trees surrounding the clearing, and I knew then he was aware that we were here. God, I hoped Young didn't come to the same realization.
I glanced at my watch. Still thirty seconds to go.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and tried to stifle the growing sense of anxiety.
"But not everyone here was responsible for your death, Aron," Liander continued, still in that soft, calm tone. "Not everyone deserves to die."
Young swung around and stalked to Liander, his face inches away and spittle flying as he said, "No one here lifted a finger to help."
"It's hard to help when you don't know anything is - "
"Everyone knew what that gang was doing," Young said, cutting Liander off, "and no one did anything. For that alone, you deserve to die. All of you."
And with that, he raised his bloody claws and slashed at Liander's stomach.
I thrust to my feet and ran into the clearing. But I was slower, far slower, than my brother. Liander's skin had barely begun to split and bleed when suddenly Rhoan was there, a howl on his lips and murder in his eyes.
He hit Young full force and the two of them went flying, hitting the ground yards away and tumbling into a tree. I swerved around them and kept running toward Liander. His stomach was still opening and there was blood and bits and God knows what else beginning to spill from inside him.
"Why does the cavalry always arrive too late?" he said, the amusement in his cracked voice not hiding the pain suddenly evident in his expression and his eyes. I threw the stakes down and grabbed him around the hips, trying to take the weight off his arms with one arm, while I thrust my free hand against his bloody stomach. Only my grip slipped in all the blood, and suddenly my fingers were inside him.
Bile rose, but I swallowed hard and jerked my hand free, ignoring the metallic reek of blood and the stench of fear - fear that was mine as much as his - and grabbed as much of his innards as I could to stop them falling out any farther.
"Quinn," I screamed, not even taking the time to open the link between us. "I need a knife and some help here."
From behind me came a scream. A thick, high-pitched scream that didn't even sound like it had come from a human throat. Rhoan's, not Young's.
He knew Liander was dying.
They were soul mates, and he could feel it.
No, no, no.
The fighting behind me increased. I wanted to look, wanted to know that my brother was okay, but I didn't dare. I needed to look after his lover first, because without Liander, I'd have no brother.
"I'm not dying," Liander whispered, his skin so pale and his body shaking. "I won't die on you, Rhoan. I promise."
He couldn't keep that promise. Not if we didn't get help soon.
God, where were the fucking medics?
Where the hell was Quinn?
I'd barely even thought that, and he was there.
"Hold him," he said, and something silver flashed up high. Liander was suddenly a deadweight in my arms, and I grunted softly, holding him against me, my body trembling with the effort of not letting him drop.
Quinn freed the other man and lowered him to the ground, then stepped over him and came back to me.
"Okay, I've got him," he said, and suddenly Liander's weight eased away from me.
"Careful," I said, panic in my voice. "There's bits of his insides leaking from the wound."
"Small intestines, probably." He wasn't looking at me, but rather Liander, gently feeling his upper abdominal area. "Is that tender?"
Liander shook his head. Quinn grunted. "Hopefully, no liver or spleen damage, then." He glanced at me. "I saw a first-aid kit in the car. Run and grab it."
I couldn't figure out how the hell a first-aid kit was going to help, but I didn't argue. I simply got up and ran. Rhoan was fighting like a madman, and the real madman was getting beaten to a bloody pulp.
Rhoan had no intention of killing him fast. No intention of using the stakes lying nearby on the ground just yet. Young was going to pay.
I couldn't feel chilled by that. I really couldn't.
I reached the car, flung open the door, and saw the kit on the backseat. As I grabbed it, I heard the sirens and hope ran through me.
They'd get here in time to save him.
They would.
I had to believe that. For Rhoan's sake, and for mine.
I ran back to the clearing as fast as I could and dropped down beside Quinn. Liander's skin was pale and clammy looking, and his breathing seemed rapid.
"Shock," Quinn said. "Has the kit got sterile bandages?"
My fingers were shaking so hard it took several attempts to open the kit. "Yes," I said, looking at him.
"Open it and give one to me."
I did, adding, "It's moist."
"Perfect." He covered the leaking intestines with it. "Is there a large abdominal or universal dressing in there?"
"There's a thick bandage."
"That'll do."
A scream hit the air, a thick sound of pain that went on and on, and vaguely sounded like words. My eyes, my eyes...
Rhoan, still bent on revenge. I closed my eyes and said, "Rhoan, end it. Liander needs you here." I looked up at Quinn. "There's an ambulance on its way."
"Then get up there, and get them down here fast." His voice was grim. "We need to get him to a hospital."
I got up and turned around. Saw Rhoan grab Young by the neck and snap it sideways. There was a crack and Young went limp. Not a killing blow, because broken necks didn't kill vampires outright, but it was certainly disabling.
I closed my eyes. "Finish it, Rhoan."
He looked at me briefly, his bloodied face free of emotion, his gaze still that of a killer. Then he turned, grabbed a stake, and plunged it into Young's heart. Young screamed, but the sound was abruptly cut off as blue fire erupted from the wound, spreading rapidly across Young's body, consuming and destroying.
Rhoan watched dispassionately for a moment, then turned away. His gaze went past me and his face crumbled, and suddenly he was sobbing and running toward Liander.
I resisted the instinct to grab him, comfort him, and ran to find the only hope Liander had.
Chapter 11
Twenty-four hours later, I was sitting in a waiting room in a Melbourne hospital, holding my brother's hand and hoping for the best.
Liander had lost a lot of blood and was now in emergency surgery to fix cuts to both his bowel and small intestines. He might be a werewolf, but there were some wounds that even a werewolf needed help to heal.
Rhoan hadn't said a word since we'd arrived. Other than acknowledging Liander's parents as they'd come in, he simply held my hand and stared at the wall, a blank expression on his face.
Not allowing himself to think.
Not allowing himself to feel.
In some ways, the very lack of emotion scared me, simply because I knew it was all there, bottled up, ready to explode should the worst happen. And I wasn't entirely sure the four of us would be able to contain his wrath and grief if Liander did slip away.
I hoped Ben was right. Hoped that he wasn't an exception to the rule, and that losing a soul mate didn't necessarily mean death. I didn't want to lose my brother - and especially not like this.
I swallowed the bitter taste of fear and pushed the negative thoughts away. Liander would live. He'd promised, and he wasn't a man to make such promises lightly.
Quinn came back into the waiting room, a tray of coffees in his hands. He placed it down on the small table in front of us, then offered one to Liander's parents. Yann, a heavier-set version of Liander himself, shook his head, but Raina - another silver wolf - accepted a cup gratefully, a small smile of thanks breaking the worry etched into her lined features.
Quinn held a cup out to me and I took it gratefully, sipping at the hot liquid and wincing a little at its bitter taste. Hospital coffee was on par with the muck we got at work.
"Rhoan?" Quinn said, offering him one of the remaining plastic mugs.
"No, thanks."
"Rhoan - " I said, but he cut in sharply.
"No!"
His voice cracked with a mix of worry and barely repressed fury - everything that wasn't showing on his face. I squeezed his hand. I could only imagine what he was going through, and as frustrating as his reactions were at the moment, they were also totally understandable. Hell, there was no way known I would have been as calm as he currently was if it had been my soul mate out there in the operating room.
Quinn sat back down beside me, pressing his warmth against my side and helping to battle the chill threatening to overwhelm me. He, like me, smelled of old blood, but my scent was also mixed with the aroma of fear and dried sweat, and it was decidedly unpleasant. As was my dress, which had become stiff and uncomfortable with all the dried blood on it. I plucked at the material lightly with my fingers. It was yet another dress that would end up in the trash. This job was playing havoc with my wardrobe. And my life.