Guardian (The Protectors Series) (22 page)

Mel said, “I’d rather you didn’t come in.”

“That’s up to you. I spent your first night here watching the house from inside my car. I can spend tonight that way, too.”

The implications of that burned in the back of her throat. “There’s no need for you to stay. I live alone in Atlanta, you know.”

“In the Southeast’s largest city, surrounded by other people.” She started to speak, but he rolled over her. “Your Glock won’t stop these things. I’d rather sit in my car for no reason than find out this bastard killed you while I was asleep in my bed.”

His eyes proclaimed his sincerity, and it chipped away at her resolve. Mel shook her head, rubbing her hand over her face. “Oh, Stefan, what do I say to that?”

“We’re together because we care about each other. That means we watch each other’s backs. Even when there’s static between us.”

 He looked so miserable that her heart cracked. He’d warned her this was all complicated, and he’d lost a friend who’d trusted the wrong person. Maybe he was doing his best. He was right that she’d asked him to take things slowly, though he’d also stalled when she asked to know more. So where did that leave them?

Wearily, he said, “Please trust me, sweet. Just a little longer.”

She’d thought the worst nine years ago and been wrong. Tonight, she’d rather err on the side of patience.

 “Okay.” Mel offered him her hand. “Come on in.”

He kissed her knuckles, sending white heat up her arm. Even though he and she were at odds, it flashed into her tightening breasts and farther down to heat her belly.

He released her hand but pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “I’ll grab my guitar from the trunk.”

As Mel started for the house, Stefan called after her, “Val packaged up some potato salad and—”

His words stopped in a cry. Mel wheeled as the reek of ammonia slammed into her nose. Rough hands grabbed each of her arms, and she groped for the weapon in her shoulder rig. Two men with purple eyes held her. She screamed and stomped the nearest foot. The guy didn’t even wince.
What the hell?

The other man clamped a vile-smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. Mel held her breath, straining to reach the Glock under her left arm. Where was Stefan?

Two other assailants held him, one clawing at his shoulder. Stefan shuddered.

Mel’s vision blurred. Whatever was on the rag…

Her fingers closed around the Glock’s grip. She pulled it out, firing under her arm toward the left-hand guy.

His body jerked just before everything went dark.

N
ausea and chills racked Stefan’s body.
Venom sickness
. His shoulder and back—though not at the nerve junctions, which was interesting—burned as though from acid where the claws had dug into him. Trying to move, he met resistance. He forced his eyes open.

The narrow, shabby room looked familiar and wasn’t much of a surprise. The padded table was the only furniture other than the toilet in the corner. Typical ghoul breeding shed…

Mel
.

Panic jolted through him. He jerked against the straps holding down his bare arms, legs, and chest, but nothing gave.

Opening his senses, he reached out to summon power, recharge, but couldn’t connect to anything around him. When Stefan turned his head, something hard bit into his neck and upper spine. He was wearing a collar, and its ensorcelled iron blocked his magic.

Bastards. Where was Mel? Had she escaped? That seemed unlikely, but he could hope.

Better that than having her here. Since ghouls couldn’t breed among themselves, they kidnapped Mundanes or mages for that purpose, forcing them to bear hybrid young, two-thirds of whom were ghouls. The others, they abandoned or ate.

The door opened. Two ghoul males walked in, one a stocky, thirtyish blond and the other slightly taller, older, and thinner with nondescript brown hair. They looked ordinary enough, but their jaundiced complexions, the muddy whites of their eyes, and the ammonia stench around them revealed what they were.

Stefan set his jaw. Neither threats nor protests would improve his situation. If he was terrified for Mel and not a little worried about his own helpless position, he couldn’t afford to let that show.

He had to do whatever would keep her as safe as possible and give his friends a chance to find them. When he and Mel didn’t show for Cinda’s memorial service, Marc would know something was wrong and alert everyone else.

The ghouls stood on either side of Stefan, arms crossed, and studied him as dispassionately as he might examine bacteria under a microscope. The blond said, “You got a liver we can use, mage. Best we’ve found yet.”

“Use for what?”

The ghoul slammed a fist down into Stefan’s gut. A choked sound escaped him as the edges of his vision went black. Bile rushed into his throat. If not for the straps holding him, the blow would’ve doubled him.

“Talk again without permission,” the ghoul said, “next one’s in your balls.”

Fucker
. Breathing through his nose, fighting the pain, Stefan glared at him.

“Since the liver regenerates—yours faster than a human’s—we can use yours like a farm, harvest and regrow, harvest and regrow. And our breeders are pleased to have a new male.”

Hell if he would breed for them. He’d rather kill himself, but not until he knew Mel was safe. Or dead. Please, not dead.

The blond studied him. “Or you can work for us. You got a rep as a researcher.”

How the flaming hell did they know that?

“We can use you,” the ghoul added.

Go fuck yourself
, he thought, but saying it might cost him the opportunity to learn what they planned. Stefan raised an eyebrow.

The ghouls exchanged a glance. The taller one said, “You can say yes or no.”

If he worked for them, what could he learn? But work for them, how? Remembering Nazis and experiments on prisoners, Stefan said, “No.”

The blond smiled, in the cold way a snake might smile at a mouse. “Don’t be too quick, mage. We’ve assessed your woman.”

So Mel was here. Damn. That was better than having her in some other, unknown nest but still horrible.

Stefan had never freed a female prisoner who didn’t describe the ghoul magic probing her womb and ovaries in assessment as excruciating. Despite his effort to suppress his reaction, something must’ve shown in his eyes because the ghoul’s smile widened.

“Her liver’s very promising,” the blond said.

Stefan froze.

Smiling, the ghoul continued, “We were coming for her, mage. You were an unexpected bonus.”

“Fertile womb, nice tits if a little small, and she’s very fit,” the dark-haired ghoul added. “A prime cow.”

Red flashed across Stefan’s vision. He gritted his teeth against a futile surge of fury.

The blond nodded. “That one can probably handle seven or eight rides a night.”

“Maybe even every half hour around the clock. Her master will have her breeding in no time. We’re all bidding on her.”

Rage seared Stefan’s throat. He forced his hands to stay loose, not clench on the table’s edge. The bastards were playing him, pushing him. He couldn’t let them see how much he wanted to wade into them.

The tall ghoul smirked down at him. “If she doesn’t work out as a breeder, she can contribute her liver. Sooner or later, she will anyway.”

“Still ‘no’?” his blond companion asked.

Not even to save Mel could Stefan torture innocents, nor would she want him to. If these ghouls knew anatomy, though, they didn’t need him for that. At least he could find out what they wanted. But he wouldn’t plead.

“What do you want me to do?” Maybe something that allowed access to sharp, pointed objects.

“Computer work, refining a formula.”

“What are you offering?” They’d mentioned livers and formulas. Were they going to let him see how they created the superghouls?

The taller ghoul’s lip curled. “A reprieve from breeding and having your liver harvested.”

They were prepared to do more, or they wouldn’t have mentioned Mel to him. “For the woman, too. And I see her every day in private.”

 This would all be alien to her. Wherever she was, she must be half frantic with fear. Stefan at least knew what was going on.

The blond shook his head.

“What?” Stefan demanded. “You think I can break out of here while I’m wearing this collar?”

“Breeders see only their masters,” the taller one informed him.

“You breed her,” Stefan said between his teeth, “and it’s no deal. The only way I’ll believe she’s okay is if I see her and talk to her in private.”

Again, the duo exchanged a look. The blond shrugged. “Give us good stuff for a week, and you can visit her then.”

“Tomorrow, and I see her first. And we get clothes.” Ghouls kept their breeders naked for convenience, but nudity also ramped up the fear factor. Especially for a woman.

The two walked out of the room. Stefan tightened his lips against the urge to call after them. Showing weakness to ghouls made them want to play with their prey.

Two burlier, dark-haired males walked in. One held a handgun similar to Mel’s, covering Stefan while the other unstrapped him. The nearer one shoved a wad of scratchy brown cloth at him. “Get dressed,” he ordered.

Drawstring pants. Stefan tugged them on and knotted the cord. They were cheap burlap, thin and too short but better than nothing.

“Come with us.” Flanking him, each with a tight grip on his arm, they hustled him down the corridor.

For a breeding shed, this was a big building. Was that all they did here?

From behind a door came the sound of a man’s voice begging not to be hurt again, then a woman’s laughter. Stefan’s fists clenched at his sides. He and Mel were getting the hell out of here somehow, and he’d bring back a mage army to burn this place to the ground.

Mel huddled in the corner of the thin, narrow mattress. Terror rolled through her veins like an icy flood and prickled along her neck and arms. Her belly still cramped from whatever they’d done. That probe had been energy of some kind, maybe electricity. Stefan’s energy had been warm, even enticing, but this had felt vile, stomach-turning, even before the pain.

How the hell had they done such a thing? It had to be a trick, something to scare her.

That had damn well worked, but she would hide her fear as long as she could.

Where was Stefan, anyway? What had they done with him? Seemingly out of nowhere, they’d appeared in the driveway and on the front porch.

Who the blazes were these fuckwads? They all looked like those guys in the swamp, like the perps she and Burton’s crew had been chasing, except the perps had purplish eyes, not muddy whites. Why hadn’t Stefan told her or Burton what they were up against?

These people were not normal humans. They all had the same look, the same claws as the man she’d killed in the road.

Had they used those claws on Cinda and Wiley? On Stefan?

Stefan would be okay. He had to be. Anything else was too awful to think about. Maybe he’d escaped and was looking for her.

Deep down, she knew better.

The skimpy little burlap pullover they’d given her barely covered her ass. Open at the sides except for tiny string ties, it offered little protection from the air-conditioning. Or the scrutiny of the women and one man who’d examined her so coldly while she was naked and strapped down, then left her in this room alone.

Rubbing her arms and keeping her knees bent, tight against her body, wasn’t doing much to conserve heat, either.

Her captors had talked of having comrades here, and they’d discussed her fertility. Breeding. Mel shuddered. They outnumbered her. If they chose to rape her, she couldn’t stop them, but she could hurt some of them before they pinned her.

A key rattled in the lock. Mel pushed herself to her feet. Fists loosely clenched, she balanced her weight in a ready stance.

The opening door revealed a burly man with the same yellow-tinged skin and muddy eyes as the others she’d seen. He leered at her.

Oh, God
. Mel swallowed hard, tried to control her breathing. Clearing her mind had never been so difficult.

The male jerked a half-dressed man—Stefan!—into view, then shoved him through the door. She rushed to him.

“Mel. Thank God,” he said against her hair. His arms closed tightly around her. The warmth and the forest scent of his bare shoulder eased the chill in her bones.

The guards slammed the door, leaving them alone.

Fighting tears of relief, she clung to him. He was alive, and they were together.

Stefan tipped her chin up. His eyes were steady. Determined. But he was shivering.

Before she could ask why, he kissed her. Mel threw her soul into the caress, welcoming him, trying to show him all she felt for him.

“It’s okay,” he told her, holding her close. “It’ll be okay.”

Maybe he had reason to think so, but… “You’re shaking.”

“I’m a little sick.” His face looked pasty, and lines bracketed the corners of his mouth. Four round wounds arced across his right shoulder, another four across his left chest.

The room spun. Mel gulped air. She couldn’t pass out, had to take care of him. A quick look at his side showed no damage in the area of his liver. That was one good point.

“Sit here.” She eased him down to the mattress and asked, “Do you know where we are? Why we’re here?”

Scabbed over in crusty brown, his wounds smelled like the attackers at Cinda’s house. Like the toxin in Cinda’s blood and Wiley Boone’s. When she rubbed a gentle finger over one, Stefan flinched.

“Sorry.” Mel slid her hand down to his forearm. “They’re like Cinda’s and Wiley’s, just not in the same places.”

“They were meant to disable, not to kill.” He hooked his arm around her. “Come here and listen. I have a lot to tell you, and they won’t give us long.”

They sat together on the mattress. If she rested her nose against his neck, his forest scent drowned the acrid one of his wounds. “What is this awful collar? Why put one on you and not me?”

“You can’t use energy the way I do. They’re afraid of that.”

Mel leaned back to look at him. “In the swamp, you killed a man…was that—”

“Energy? Yes, but most of us just call it magic.”

Her eyebrows rose, but Stefan didn’t seem to notice.

“The collar blocks my power.” With a weary sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall. “I was going to tell you, sweetheart, I swear. I only needed a little more time.”

“I know. We can worry about that later.”

“Part of it’s important now. Without the collar, I can get us out of here. I can translocate, shift us from here to someplace else.”

“Seriously? You can just…poof us out of here?”

“I can.”

He looked too earnest to doubt. Frowning, Mel traced his collar with a finger. “If we had something slim and sharp, I might be able to pick that lock. Lean forward and let me see.” When he did, she wrinkled her nose. “It’s longer in back. You won’t be able to turn it to the front, even if you get a chance at picking it.”

“I don’t know how, anyway, but since you do, what do we need? I can keep an eye out.”

“A thin, narrow piece of metal will do, though I need two of them sturdy enough to press the tumblers. A couple of big paper clips would do.” He nodded, and she continued, “What’s going on, Stefan? Who are these people and what do they want?”

“They’re called ghouls. They want me to do research for them, on the toxin, I think. As long as I do, they won’t hurt you.”

“But you…” She stroked gently beside the chest wound.

“That happened in the driveway. Do what they say, don’t make trouble, and I’ll figure out a way to get us out of here.”

 “They talked about breeding me. I figured they might be human traffickers.”

His arm tightened around her. “They’re worse. Don’t push them, sweetheart, please. Keep your head down and don’t challenge them until Burton can find us.”

“
If
he finds us, you mean.”

“I prefer to think about
when
. Besides, my friends will be looking, too.”

She took a deep breath. “Can they do the kinds of things you can?”

“Some of them, yeah. I was getting to that, too, damn it.” He turned miserable eyes to her. “I was working up to telling you everything.”

“I believe you, but we have more pressing issues.” Mel laced her fingers through his. “These people have kidnapped a federal agent. The FBI will be in Wayfarer now. They’ll be looking, too.” That was some comfort. Her fellow agents, always tenacious, would be relentless in finding one of their own.

“You’re strong and tough, Mel. We’ll get through this.” He kissed her softly, and she clung to him, needing the comfort, the little bit of normal.