Authors: Melissa Schroeder
He needed to change into different clothes, but instead, he
stood staring at her. He didn’t want to wake her up. She needed her rest if
Saint was to be believed. Still, Nico couldn’t resist brushing her hair back
away from her face and slipping his finger down her jawline.
She mumbled his name in her sleep, then snuggled closer to
the pillow. A lump formed in his throat, and he found it hard to swallow. The
idea of having a child with Cordelia warmed him. An emotion he could not seem
to define almost unmanned him.
For her and their future, he would do everything in his
power to end this mess.
*
*
*
*
The scent of rotting food and the stench of unwashed bodies
assaulted Malik first. He hated this, and it was worse for their kind, but
walking down an alley to the hell was the easiest way to go undetected.
"Why are we going the back way again?" Gray asked.
He swore violently when he stepped in a puddle.
"Because, the five of us skulking around the streets
will raise attention. We want to do that in the club, not on the street. Makes
us a target."
It would also make Hurst a target. The man was going to have
enough to deal with in the coming years, let alone the physical attacks he
would take. The fact that he was one of the few Mades he could save in recent
memory did not leave Malik feeling any better. Anything is better than
dying...unless you were turned by a Born against your will.
"It should be around the corner," Nico offered.
Malik nodded and let them to the door. Hell's Door was one
of the better hells frequented by Mades and Borns alike. Here they did not care
where you came from, just that you had gold coins to spend.
"We were here a few nights ago. There were a few
suspicious characters trolling the area, not much more," Saint said.
"But they do cater to vampires and humans, so it would
be the perfect hunting ground," Malik said. "He would like to go
after people who were at their end, so to speak."
They started up the steps, but Hurst didn't say anything. He
stood looking at the painted red door. Malik turned.
"Hurst?"
"I think I was here," Hurst said quietly.
Saint stepped closer. "You're remembering."
It wasn't a question. Bloody Scot probably already knew that
Hurst would remember things. Malik was just happy he didn't see the future. He
had learned a long time ago not to look at the future but live in the present.
"Let's go."
They all followed him in. Malik was given easy access. It
helped that he was accompanied by three peers of the realm, one being just a
stone's throw away from the throne. With a Blackburn there, it helped even
more, but Malik was wealthy, and that was well known within their world.
They made their way through the gaming tables and nodded to
a few people he knew, both human and vampire. There appeared to be nothing out
of the ordinary, but something was making him very uncomfortable. His intuition
told him there was someone watching them.
"You feel it too," Hurst said only loud enough for
Malik to hear.
Malik nodded.
"I don't feel that well at the moment," Hurst said
weakly.
He glanced at the viscount. He looked fine, his skin flushed
from the recent feeding they had given him. Hurst wasn't in danger of falling
into a feeding frenzy. Instead, something was telling his senses to flee.
Excitement and caution ran through Malik. That meant there was a good chance
that Hurst's sire was nearby.
"Do you feel him?" Malik asked.
Hurst nodded.
"Do we need to leave?" Malik suspected they were
close to finding Neal.
"I sense he wants us dead."
He would want them dead, and it wasn't uncommon for a Made
to be able to feel his maker’s feelings—especially if they were in close
quarters.
“But do you think we should leave?” Malik asked again.
Saint frowned at them. “What are you talking about?”
“His sire is here. He’s watching,” Malik answered.
“Let’s circulate then and see. He won’t do anything here.”
Saint turned to scan the space.
They walked around the room, each of them playing a few
hands here and there. A half hour later, they had nothing.
Nico shook his head, his expression darkening. “We could
wait here all night, but I am not sure that is a good idea. We are leaving
ourselves exposed. I have a feeling the bastard will not come out until he is
ready.”
Hurst swallowed noticeably. “He truly isn’t happy you are
here, Blackburn.”
Nico nodded, but Malik was not ready to let it go. “Hurst,
what else do you feel?”
He closed his eyes. “He is watching but not here. Or not on
the floor.”
“He’s got an office here or a room of some sort,” Gray said.
“He is furious you are in his den, and he cannot do
anything. It isn’t time yet,” Hurst said as he opened his eyes. “This is one
sick bastard you are dealing with.”
Nico nodded. “We are well acquainted.”
“We need to leave, now,” Hurst said. The anxiety in his
voice had risen, and his eyes were dilated. Malik knew better than to question
his intuition. The connection to the sire had been lessened because Hurst had
been fed the blood of several Borns and not the one who made him. Still, Malik
didn’t want to chance it. They could return later with a greater group. This
was definitely the place to watch.
They slowly made their way out of the hell, and Malik drew
in a deep breath. A light drizzle was falling.
“I think we should get a handsome cab,” Saint said.
He glanced at Saint, who hated using any kind of closed
space to travel. There was definitely something wrong.
“We would need two, and there aren’t any here during this
time of night. We need to walk a few blocks this way,” Gray said. They walked
along, and Malik felt the air change. The hair on the back of his neck prickled
and a sheet of ice slid down his spine. Someone was watching them. Not just the
normal criminals who hung out in the stews. No, this was the same feeling he
had in the hell.
In the next moment, he heard the rush of steps behind him,
and then another group came up from the alley on their right. He looked around
and realized they had walked directly into a damned trap.
Nico heard the scrape of shoes against the cobblestone and
knew immediately that they had been followed. He settled his hand on the stake
he had attached to his belt and glanced at Malik. He nodded and they both
turned. There were only five men, Mades from the looks of them. The one face he
had not seen was Neal’s.
They turned to form a circle to face their attackers.
“All we want is Nico Blackburn,” one of them said. Their
eyes were red, as if they had not slept. Their expressions spoke of confusion.
They truly did not know what they were doing. Now, after all these years, he
knew exactly what Malik had been talking about.
Nico knew it would be easier to face Neal head on, but the
moment he stepped forward, Malik made a sound.
"Do not even think of it. I am not going back to
Cordelia to tell her you went with Mades to a man who wants to kill you."
"Forget it," Saint spat out. "If the bastard
wants a part of Nico, then he needs to come to him. Cowards don't get what they
want."
Bloody hell. He knew these Mades would not kill him before
they took him to Neal. He had heard that tone from both his cousin and Malik
before. They both would not let him go.
"Good enough for us," the tallest of the bunch
said. He was also the biggest. "We can take care of this lot and then take
you to our sire."
They all thought they were invincible. They were ready to
lay down their lives for their sire without a second thought because they did
not know any better.
"They really are stupid, you know?" Malik said
conversationally.
And they were. The big one stepped forward and tried to take
Malik. He met his blow by blocking it with his arm.
He struck the man with his right fist. The crack of bone
told Nico that he had broken the man's nose. Now they all came at them. The one
that took on Nico stepped forward. Nico fought him fist to fist.
He paid no attention to what was going on around him. He
wanted to make sure they kept one of them alive. They needed to know where Neal
was holed up.
Nico made quick work of his adversary. He gave him one last
punch, and the Made fell to the ground. When he turned around to face the rest
of the crew, he found that most of them had fled. The only one left was the big
guy, but instead of fighting Malik, it was Hurst that had his hands around his
neck, squeezing the breath out of the bastard.
“Tell me where your maker is. Tell me now!” Hurst commanded.
“You should know since he is your commander, too.” The Made
struggled against Hurst’s hands.
The comment had Hurst squeezing his hands tighter around his
throat. The Made’s face turned blue in the process. Hurst would not be able to
kill him, but the Made could not answer his questions. Before Nico could
intervene, the Made passed out.
Hurst shoved him away. The viscount's breathing was ragged,
and Nico could practically feel the rage rolling off him. He didn't blame
Hurst. If the same thing had been done to him, Nico would definitely want
revenge.
Both of the Mades left were unconscious.
"I can take them to my house," Gray offered.
"We have room, of course."
He shared a look with Malik, knowing that they would have to
question the bastards. Nico nodded.
"I better get back to the house. Can you handle
them?" Nico asked.
Gray nodded.
Malik reached to pick up one of the unconscious Mades.
"I'll go with Gray. Saint, you should go with Nico."
Nico frowned. "I don't need—"
"For the love of the gods, could you just do it, Nico.”
Malik seemed to be losing his patience. “You are the one with a wife, and your
mother is there. Gray's mother is safe, as I am sure that Saint's is. There is
no problem there.”
Nico agreed. They helped the men get the others into a cab
and then they headed on foot for home.
"You will be tested, you know this," Saint said.
"Tested? By Neal?"
"By the very thing you think you don't need."
He rolled his eyes. Saint was good at times, but many other
times, he irritated Nico. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his ramblings now.
They were back at his townhouse within minutes. He was so
bloody tired of this game. He wanted it to end. But he knew he had to stay to
protect their way of life.
Slowly, he walked up the stairs. The thought of what he had
seen that night and weeks prior to this made him damned sick.
He wanted to see Cordelia, to touch her, to know that all
that was good in the world was still there. But he wasn't sure he should bother
her. She needed her rest, and he smelled of whiskey and smoke. Still he wanted
to look in on her at least before taking his bath. He found her just where he
had left her, sleeping soundly. There wasn't a woman who could look so
innocent...but he knew better. She had a wicked mind and a quick wit, and she
was everything that was good to him.
He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. She
stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered.
"Nico?" she asked drowsily.
He should turn, leave, but he couldn't. After the last few
weeks, he had grown too accustomed to having her by his side. He didn't even
know when it became so damned important to have her there. He knew mating would
keep them connected, and the need to be near each other was normal. But this
was...overwhelming.
"I need to bathe."
She sighed and her eyes closed again. Wanting to avoid
temptation, he turned to go to the bathing room. Moments later, he was slipping
into a steaming hot bath. It worked on his muscles, loosening them up. It
wasn't helping the cockstand that he had gotten from just staring at Cordelia.
He was starting to fall asleep when he heard her soft
footsteps.
“Are you doing all right?”
The sound of her voice shifted through him. He was still
running hot from the fight, and he needed time to pull himself under control.
“Go back to bed, Cordelia.”
There was a pause, then he heard her move forward into the
room. He closed his eyes and tried his best to keep his beast under control.
“You sound off, as if something is wrong.”
“There was an altercation tonight,” he said, unable to think
of something else. All he could see was sinking his fangs into her neck and
feeding off her as he poured himself into her.
“Oh,” she said.
She made barely a noise, but he could hear her bare feet
patter across the tiled floor and the way her nightdress moved against her
skin. Worse, he could scent her blood. He ground his teeth together.
“No one was hurt?” she asked as he sensed her sitting on the
edge of the tub. It was a bold move for Cordelia. She wasn’t a prude by any
means, but she had never been so forward as to approach him while he was nude.
“No. We recovered two Mades. They are at Gray’s.”
“Are you angry with me?”
Hunger clawed at his belly. The spark of arousal he felt
earlier was now an inferno blazing through his blood. “No. I just think…” He
drew in a deep breath and counted backwards from ten. When he thought he could
control himself again, he said, “Please, it would be best if you left me
alone.” He ground out every word, his voice harsh enough to give her the
warning.
“Nico.”
He finally opened his eyes. “I am riding a fine edge of
control here, Cordelia. I don’t want to hurt you.”