The silence stretched out this time. Long enough that Lindsay feared she’d lost him. “Adrian?”
“I’m here. You just . . . surprised me. Your decision to leave in order to protect me is unexpected.”
“I’m not worth falling over,” she muttered. “I promise you that.”
“I disagree.” Although his tone didn’t alter, she sensed a change in him. “I like you, too, Lindsay. You fascinate me. For someone of my years, that’s a rare gift. I intended to let you go, if you agreed to stop hunting. But I’ve changed my mind. We’ll pick this up when I get back and reach a compromise.”
Lindsay’s brow arched. Adrian compromising on anything wasn’t something she pictured easily. He always seemed to end up getting what he wanted. He was a favored son, this warrior angel with his bloodstained wings. And he captivated her completely.
“I have to thank you,” she said, “for calling my dad. He would’ve worried himself sick.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“It means a lot to me that you thought of it.”
“I can’t help but think of you,” he said in a low, intimate tone. “I haven’t been able to stop since we met.”
God . . . she felt the same way. They were in such deep shit with each other. “Whatever you have to do, please be careful.”
“Don’t worry, neshama. Nothing can stop me from finishing what we started today.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re calling me?”
“Ask me again,” he purred, “the next time I’m inside you.”
Shivering against a sudden flare of sexual heat, Lindsay said a hasty good-bye and ended the call.
She knew she’d done the right thing by leaving, but that didn’t stop her from regretting it. Especially now that she knew he needed her with him to listen and offer support.
Damn it . . . she had to get a grip and think, but her lungs were constricted by a ferocious pressure to return to him. Although her mind knew the most reasonable and selfless course was to stay away, there was a driving need inside her demanding she go back and take him. Claim him. Make him irrevocably hers. The rapacious urge was so intense, it frightened her.
She’d never had trouble holding to her decisions, but with Adrian it felt like she was battling with herself . . . with a high risk of losing. He was a glorious being, proud and dangerously beautiful. His sole purpose was hunting the very creatures she hated and wished dead. If she destroyed him, if she derailed the work he did—which was so important to her—she’d destroy herself. But knowing the consequences didn’t seem to quiet the furiously whispering devil on her shoulder.
Holding to her chosen course of action by more willpower than she should have needed, she sent Elijah a text message: c u @ the Belladonna.
She was glad he was going to be with her. He was a straight shooter. He’d help her keep her head out of the clouds, where angels flew and mortals had no business treading.
“This is for the best,” she told herself, earning another wary glance from the driver.
The verbal reinforcement didn’t help as much as she wished it would.
“Whatever the most disastrous thing you can imagine is, the reality is worse.” Torque shoved a pillow behind his back and leaned into the headboard attached to the wall. He was careful to keep his leg away from the slender shaft of sunlight sneaking through a tiny parting in the blackout curtains of his motel room. “Word on the street says Phineas is dead—from an unprovoked vamp attack.”
There was a long pause, filled only by his father’s deep and steady breathing. “Dead? Are you certain?”
“As certain as I can be without hearing it from Adrian himself. He’s been out of town since I arrived. My guess is that he’s hunting down those responsible.”
“Without a doubt.”
Torque allocated unlimited resources to the cabal he’d managed to infiltrate into the area, which gave him—and his father—access to fairly accurate reports of Adrian’s and the other Sentinels’ activities. Of course, Adrian kept a high profile on purpose, and Torque had long suspected that the cabal members had gone unmolested only because the Sentinel leader willingly looked the other way. You can see me coming and I’ll still get the jump on you seemed to be his message.
“I was hoping to meet with him,” Torque said, toying with a throwing star, “to let him know we had nothing to do with this.”
“No. He might see you as a fair trade for Phineas—someone he loved and relied upon for someone equally valuable to me.”
“A small sacrifice to keep a war from erupting.”
“That isn’t your decision to make.”
“Isn’t it?” Torque threw the hira-shuriken at the wall, absently noting the star’s position in relation to the wallpaper pattern. His father was too protective, to the point that Vash served as his second-in-command to keep Torque out of the direct line of fire. While Torque understood the motives—and the paranoia that fueled them—it didn’t make the bitter pill any easier to swallow. He wanted to serve the vampire community to the fullest extent he could. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do or sacrifice to see them thrive and flourish.
“I’ve already lost one child. I won’t lose both of you.” Torque could imagine his father’s head leaning heavily into the headrest of his office chair. “Come home, son. We have the information we need. Now we need to figure out what to do with it.”
“We should send Vash on cleanup duty. If we police ourselves first, maybe that will reinforce our innocence.”
“Yes, you’re right. You can take over the hunt for Nikki’s abductors.”
“I’d like nothing more, but there’s something else.” Torque threw another star, embedding it in the wall directly beside the first. “Adrian’s been spotted with a woman recently.”
Again, a lengthy stretch of silence. “You think it’s Shadoe?”
“I haven’t known him to show interest in any other women. Have you?”
“Phineas is gone. Adrian will be deeply aggrieved, maybe enough to break a cardinal rule. We need to be certain of the woman’s identity before we take her.”
Torque’s hand relaxed. “I’ll keep digging until I know for sure.”
“If it’s your sister, we need to bring her home.”
“Of course. I’ll keep you posted.” Pulling the phone away from his ear, Torque turned it off and tossed it on the bed beside him. The hunt for intel distracted him from the grief he couldn’t bear to deal with now. When he’d Changed Nikki, he had done so because he wanted her immortally by his side. Nikki’s life was a sacrifice he hadn’t expected he would have to make. Living without her was killing him. He now understood the venom that coursed through Vash’s veins over the loss of her mate. His agony fueled him, keeping his focus sharp and his need for retribution simmering in his blood.
A couple more hours until dusk, and then he could hit the streets again. And god help any Sentinel unfortunate enough to cross his path.
Adrian had just reached Mesquite when his phone rang. “Mitchell,” he answered.
“Do you have an idea of how long the vampire was infected before you captured him?”
The somberness of Raguel’s voice snared Adrian’s complete attention. “No. Why?”
“The vamp is dead, and the blood sample degraded during testing. It was, I am told, as if his blood turned into a ‘motor oil–type sludge’ in an instant.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Furious was more apt, but he made certain that wasn’t evident in his tone.
“Whatever you are dealing with,” the archangel went on, “is apparently lethal and perhaps fast-acting, depending on when the subject was infected.”
“Thank you. Your help is appreciated.”
Ending the call, Adrian looked at Jason and Damien. They were waiting nearby, looking bleak and disheartened beneath a flashing neon keno sign. Adrian wished he could have spared them this hunt for one of their own, but he couldn’t risk losing Helena or her lyca
n if they decided to split up. Already Helena’s second guard was traveling separately from the couple, stopping less frequently and swiftly pulling ahead.
“We need to capture more minions,” he told them. “Infected and not.”
Jason’s golden good looks were made stark by concern. “What’s going on?”
“Perhaps the end of the vampires is finally nigh.” Adrian returned his cell phone to his pocket. Jehovah does love his plagues, Raguel had said. Perhaps the archangel had been onto something.
“What a blessing that would be,” Damien said grimly, following Adrian around the corner of the casino parking lot in preparation for takeoff.
Adrian didn’t voice the rest of his thoughts.
Or we are about to be tested in ways that may yet see the end of us all.
CHAPTER 15
Lindsay fingered the keypad on her cell phone and debated the wisdom of calling Adrian. She’d been strong the first few days and refrained from contacting him, but the night before had been hard. She had roused from sleep at three in the morning, her thoughts filled with memories from a dream so vivid she still recalled it eight hours later.
She’d been standing with Adrian in a lush valley. A massive river had flowed beside them, providing the water necessary to support the miles of grasses spreading outward from its banks. The sun was bright and fierce, the air humid and almost too hot. Adrian wore only coarse linen pants and leather sandals, his hair long enough to hang to the tops of his broad, powerful shoulders. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed, his sensual mouth thinned with frustration or displeasure. There was a blade in his hand—a thick, sturdy weapon that reminded her of a medieval sword or glaive, like King Arthur’s Excalibur. He spun it deftly, absently, his skill apparent in his easy familiarity with its weight and length. He was both regal and fierce. Heartrendingly beautiful.
As the wind slid lovingly through his hair, he looked at her with such torment. She felt pierced by his gaze, as if he’d stabbed her with the weapon he wielded with such obvious agitation.
Ani ohev otach, tzel, he’d said to her dream self. I love you, shadow. But I cannot have you. You know this. Why do you tempt me? Why do you flaunt what I crave, yet am forbidden to possess?
Her sorrow over his pain had constricted her lungs and created an ache so overwhelming it roused her from a dead sleep. She’d bolted awake to find tears wetting her face and pillow, and the remnants of sympathy and grief twisting in her stomach. He’d been talking to her, as if she was the source of his agony, yet she couldn’t imagine doing anything to elicit that devastated look on his face. She would die before she ever wounded him so deeply.
Spending the rest of the night alone in her suite at the Belladonna had felt nearly as desolate as when she’d talked to Adrian on the phone four days earlier. The urge to call him again was becoming too forceful to resist. She was worried about him and missed him more than she should.
She sucked in a sharp breath, fighting through a rush of greedy desire and feelings of possession she had no right to. She’d lived her entire life struggling to find a place for herself on the outside looking in at the “normal” people, but it had taken only a couple days to get irrevocably used to fitting in somewhere. Forging it alone after that acclimation was damn hard; wondering if Adrian might be feeling equally adrift was even harder.
Lindsay hit the DIAL button on her phone and lifted it to her ear.
He picked up almost instantly. “Lindsay—is everything all right?”
The knot in her stomach loosened at the sound of his warm, confident voice. “I called to ask you the same question.”
“Ask me . . . ?” His voice faded. “I—”
“Adrian? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to being asked that question. It’s been a rough couple of days, but it’ll soon be over.”
Her heart faltered a beat. He was so collected and smooth, so pulled together and in command of himself and others; she could see how easy it would be to assume he was always all right. Whom did he lean on when his burdens wearied him? With Phineas gone, did he have anyone?
He’d given her an outlet for her private self. If she could return the favor, if he trusted her enough to do so, she’d consider it an honor. “You don’t sound happy about that.”
“Someone I care about is hurting, and I will have to inflict more pain on her before all is said and done.”
Jealousy dug its claws into her, a response so alien and unwelcome it unsettled her deeply. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Just hearing your voice and knowing that you’re thinking of me is enough.”
Lindsay felt a fierce rush of pride that she might continue to be a source of comfort for him, despite everything that stood between them. “I dreamt about you last night.”
“Did you?” His voice took on a seductive smoothness. “Will you tell me about it?”
“You asked me to leave you alone. To stop tempting you.” Sighing heavily, she slumped over the table. “And some horrible part of me didn’t care that I was hurting you by making you want me. I was almost giddy over your anguish. It made me feel powerful to have such a hold on you. I wanted you—whatever the cost.”
He exhaled slowly. “The dream disturbed you.”
“Damn straight it did! I hate that I would think that way for even a moment. I don’t feel that way. I won’t.”
“Lindsay.” He paused. “I know you don’t. It was just a dream.”
“Which means that somewhere in my subconscious that thought exists.” She shoved a hand through her curls. “I don’t want to be that person, Adrian. I don’t want to hurt you, but look at me. I can’t even go a few days without calling you, even though I know we need to keep a professional distance between us.”
“You are not that person.” The gruff note of vehemence in his tone took her aback. “Just as I’m not the Adrian you dreamt of. If anything, the roles in your dream were reversed. You’re asking me to let you walk away, and I won’t. I know you want me, and I’ll exploit your desire to the fullest—I want you that badly. With every day that passes, with every conversation we have, I want you more. It burns in me, Lindsay. I ache for you.”
“Adrian—” Her eyes closed on a sigh. “I’m so sorry we met.”
“No, you’re not. You’re only sorry that there are risks involved.”
“I should run while I can.” She’d moved so far away from her dad for the same reason, because she knew it was too dangerous for him to be around her. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him because of her hunting, just as she’d never forgive herself if Adrian paid a price for being with her.
“I’d find you,” he said darkly. “Wherever you’d go, however you’d hide . . . I would find you.”
A knock came to the adjoining door, yanking her rudely back into the here and now. “I should let you go.”
“I’ll see you soon, neshama. Stay out of trouble until then.”
“No worries there. You’re all the trouble I can handle right now.”
She hung up, then called out, “Come in, El.”
Elijah entered. His hair was still damp from a shower and slicked back from his forehead. He was dressed in his usual loose jeans and T-shirt, and his gaze raked the room as it always did whenever he entered one. The man was a warrior through and through.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, even though she knew the answer already. The guy ate like a . . . wolf.
“Starved.”
“Can we please not have room service again? I need to get out of this hotel. It can’t be that dangerous to hit up the Denny’s around the corner, can it?”
“Hmm . . .” He glanced out the window at the cloudless, sunny day. “All right. Bring your bag of tricks.”
Lindsay stood. “I know it sucks for you to be stuck with me, but I’m glad you’re here.”
She adored Elijah, despite the fact that he was a constant reminder of Adrian an
d the life she could have shared with the angel, if only they were friends and not crazy with desire for so much more. After losing her mother, she couldn’t bear to lose anyone else she loved, and with her hunting, her life was too dangerous to pledge to someone else. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. But Adrian was special. He shared the life she did, and she resented that she couldn’t even try to have a relationship with him. After all the times she’d wished for someone who could know and understand why she hunted, she’d finally found him—only to discover they could never be together. Even the wind seemed to mourn that injustice, howling softly every time she stepped outside.
“This is a good place for me to be,” Elijah said, rolling his shoulders back as if the muscles were too tight.
“You’re bored out of your mind.”
“Yeah, but I need to keep a low profile now.”
She winced. “Because of me? Because I took off?”
“No.” He exhaled audibly. “I used to be a member of the Navajo Lake pack. Then I was sent to Adrian for observation. Right now, the less I’m observed, the more likely it’ll be that they forget I was any trouble at all.”
“I didn’t peg you for the troublemaker type.” He was too stoic, too honorable. He took his commitments seriously, as evidenced by the fact that he’d jumped on a plane to come after her in spite of being terrified of flying.
“I don’t think I am.”
“Hmm . . . Let’s head someplace to eat, and you can tell me about it.”
“I’m up for the food, not for the talking.”
She shot him a wry look. “After nearly a week in my company, you still haven’t figured me out yet?”
Elijah gave a long suffering sigh and gestured toward the door. “It was worth a shot.”
Lindsay managed to let Elijah mow his way through two full stacks of pancakes and six over-easy eggs, before she pressed him for more information. “So why do people think you’re a troublemaker?”
He dropped a pat of butter onto his hash browns. “I said I was being observed, not that I’m a troublemaker.”