Aflame (Apotheosis) (25 page)

For a moment, Zander floated on a cloud, surrounded by hazy, blurred images. He’d never used a drug in his life, but he imagined this was what it’d feel like.

“I think we found him,” Chelsea whispered. “He’s too drugged. We won’t be able to get anything.”

“Keep trying,” Zander pleaded.

“Oh.” Chelsea’s voice trembled. “There’s somebody with him.”

As if he were a television, the channel changed and horrifying images invaded his psyche. Blackness, pain and blood inundated his thoughts. Followed by flashes of Grayce. His knees would’ve hit the floor if it weren’t for Marcus.

As fast as they had come, the thoughts were gone. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. Oh God. What was that?” The tremor in her voice reflected the panic shredding his insides.

Fear bogged his brain, his skin prickled with dread. A horrifying black figure shimmied in his thoughts then disappeared.

“Zander. I’m so sorry you had to see that. It’s all my fault.” She clung to Nikolas.

A deadly, primal rage brewed in his chest, spread through his limbs. His arms and legs trembled with eruptive fury. “Nikolas. Get Chelsea home. Now.”

“What the fuck happened?” Marcus released his grip on Zander.

“He’s here,” Chelsea sobbed.

“Z, don’t do anything stu—” A bone chilling snarl cut Nikolas’ sentence short.

“Did you just fucking growl?” Marcus snapped.

In a flash, Zander was nose to nose with Marcus. “You didn’t see what he did to her.” His chest tightened and he couldn’t say another word. In that moment, Zander was no longer a civilized man. He was a brutal, barbarian warrior prepared for a bloodbath. His friends understood. They made no attempt to stop him. Grayce was in danger and that was unacceptable. Plain and simple. It’s how they were built.

Marcus took a step back and held his hands up in surrender. “Go get him.”

11

It’s inevitable. In everyone’s life at one point or another, they find themselves at a crossroads where their souls are on the line. Decisions must be made that will not only have a profound effect on their future, but could also determine their eternal fate.

Zander faced that crossroads. Instinct told him Tyr must die. Instinct told him Houghton must die. Conscience told him taking a human life was wrong. Society told him murder was wrong.

He’d never given a shit what society thought.

What would Grayce think? He’d have to answer to her alone. Her opinion would be the one that mattered above all others.

His brief look into Tyr’s memories burned horrifying, gut wrenching images into his mind. As those images stood forefront in his brain, he knew the right decision, the one proper course of action would be to strike those bastards from the face of the earth. He’d live with the consequences.

From the other end of the hall, he sized up the officers seated outside Houghton’s door. The tall one slouched in his metal chair. One hand rested on his holster, the other scratched at his crotch. His partner, a stalky, balding older man, nodded off behind the pages of his hotrod magazine.

Although Zander was able to move fast enough to avoid detection by the cameras, even these two fuckups would be able to feel something if he rushed past. He needed nothing more than a few moments inside, but couldn’t risk having the guards come in to check on their prisoner.

Fuck it.

Zander flew past, and knocked them each on the head. In the same heartbeat, he was in Houghton’s room.

* * * *

Unease sat like a cement brick in Tyr’s gut. Apprehension was an unacceptable character trait. It darkened his already sinister mood. If all went according to plan, Houghton’s announcement to the media would draw his little dove from hiding.

The story was only broadcast a few short hours ago, but really, he had nothing better to do than wait. He wouldn’t miss another opportunity to get her back. The current toy no longer gave him the buzz he needed and he’d grown extremely dissatisfied. She’d become a zombie right before his eyes. No longer showed fear. He would dispose of the useless bitch by day’s end.

The greasy fat man in the bed mumbled something inaudible in his unconscious state then pulled at his restraints. His face contorted as if haunted by a dream.

A moment later, Tyr felt a prickle in his brain. A probing sensation.

Odd.

Sitting with arms crossed and head held high, he recalled his play sessions with his little dove. What was it about her? He’d never been able to pinpoint it. What he did know was that she made him feel more alive. More powerful. Indestructible.

Memories of Grayce flooded his thoughts and gave birth to an erection. His ability to teleport surfaced after the first time he had his way with her. It took him weeks to understand that she alone was the trigger. The spark that started it all. The charge that kept his battery juiced. And that made him hate her all the more.

A whoosh of air snatched him from his reverie and before he could blink twice, the giant man from the gym was standing in the room. Even more spectacular up close, Tyr thought. Oh my, if only his playroom were ready, he’d drag the beast there right now. His imagination ran wild with possibilities.

The giant glanced at Houghton, who enjoyed a drug induced slumber, then back to Tyr. Blazing blue eyes promised a shit storm of wrath and fury.

“Today, you die.” A crushing grip choked him as he was lifted off the floor. The beast had one hand around his neck, the other holding his belt.

Tyr rolled his eyes in mach disgust. It was obvious this gargantuan thing in front of him could do serious damage. He wasn’t afraid. Fear was for the lesser. He drew his power from fear.

Words gargled up his trachea. “I can smell her all over you. She tastes exquisite, doesn’t she? Like a fine wine.”

Breathing was difficult but he feigned indifference. “Imagine what a team the three of us would make.”

The hand at his throat constricted.

“This is for Grayce.” The man with fierce blue eyes tensed his fingers with slow, torturous intent, and crushed his windpipe.

Tyr was no match for such physical strength. He would accept defeat, this time.

But never again.

When next they met, he’d be prepared. With the minuscule reserve of strength he had left, Tyr transported himself out of the death grip and into the safety of the tunnels. He was out cold the moment he hit the ground.

* * * *

Zander stood empty handed and dumbfounded.

What the fuck just happened?

Why didn’t he snap the bastard’s neck the second he entered the room? Why did he give the fucker a chance to speak?

He turned to the freak on the bed.

His fists clenched and unclenched, then clenched again. It was so unfair. He laid there, pumped full of drugs in peaceful slumber. Where was the justice in that?

Nikolas’ words reverberated through his skull. “Don’t do anything stupid.” God, he wanted to kill this man. Rip him to shreds for what he was putting Grayce through.

Withdrawals wreaked havoc on his body, so intense he struggled to focus. He needed to get this over with and get back to Grayce.

Could he take somebody’s life? Was that the man he wanted to be?

“Fuck!” Zander punched the wall and left a hole large enough to fit a basketball through. A gust of fresh air burst into the room.

With no concern for the man’s comfort, Zander ripped Houghton’s arms free of the cuffs. He didn’t bother to remove his catheter or IV’s. That was a kindness he didn’t deserve.

He threw the convict over his shoulder, bare ass hanging out. In a matter of seconds, he dropped Houghton face down in the center of the prison recreation yard, naked as a jaybird and passed out cold.

Let the other inmates take care of the pile of shit.

His conscience was clear.

* * * *

Each time the pain reached intolerable on the “how much can she take” scale, Grayce brought her fire to the surface of her skin, let it hover long enough to burn away the withdrawals, then drew it back in again. Stephen slept warm and peaceful at her side, unaware of the torment she suffered.

“Grayce.” Chelsea tiptoed into her line of sight.

“Holy shit.” Pillows flew and Stephen twitched. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Lost in thought?” Chelsea giggled and looked at the mess. “You two have fun?”

Grayce nodded and rubbed the lingering tears from her face. Not quick enough to hide the evidence from Chelsea.

“What happened? Is everything all right?”

Grayce slumped.

Nikolas trailed in behind his wife and scooped the sleeping boy into his arms. “I’ll take him to his room.” With a kiss and a wink to his wife, he headed down the hall.

“I’ll be there shortly, my love.” The smile she flashed her husband brought a blush to Grayce’s cheeks. Chelsea patted his firm ass when he passed, then replaced the vacant spot where Stephen had been curled up with her own rump. A loving arm wrapped Grayce’s shoulder.”You want to go first, or shall I?”

Laying a hand over Chelsea’s, Grayce released a drawn out sigh. “You go first.”

Chelsea proceeded to fill Grayce in on the happenings at the hospital. Listening with great difficulty, she tried to push the effects of her withdrawals to the back of her mind. She’d managed not to go insane yet, but if Zander didn’t return soon, she might have to jump off a tall building.

“So that’s it? You left and you don’t know what happened?”

Oh fuck. This was bad.

“He wouldn’t try to kill Tyr, would he?” Grayce wanted Tyr dead.

Duh.

But that burden shouldn’t fall on Zander’s shoulders. He represented what was good in this world. What would taking a human life do to him?

“I don’t know. His rage was palpable, Grayce. There was no talking to him.”

“Can you read him?” Grayce leaned her head into Chelsea’s, wondering if this is what her mother’s arms would have felt like, if she’d ever been able to offer comfort the way a mother should.

“No, he’s too far away. As fast as he travels, he’ll be here before I can read him anyway. He was a mess, from withdrawals I mean. I’m sure whatever he’s doing, it’s fast so he can get back to you.” Chelsea paused and kissed Grayce’s cheek. “Your turn.”

“Oh Chelsea, I don’t even know what to say.” Clapping her hands to her face, Grayce sunk deeper into the couch cushion that she’d occupied for most of the afternoon. “Can you just read me?”

“I already have, but sometimes it helps to say it out loud.” Chelsea snatched a pillow from the floor and fluffed it in her lap.

“He’s my little brother. I have a brother.”

“Nikolas tested his blood. We had our suspicions, but we didn’t want to say anything until we knew for sure.”

“What do we do? Do we tell him?”

“Let’s discuss this with the men after they get back. It might be better to wait until some of this blows over.”

“Chelsea, I still feel like I’m stuck in one big, crazy fever dream. I want to wake up.”

Warm solid flesh enveloped her. Hot air caressed her skin. Faster than her heart could palpitate, Grayce was transported to the bedroom and pinned against the wall.

Plush lips brushed the sensitive spot behind her left ear and worked their way up her chin to her mouth. Eager hands were hard at work unbuttoning her jean shorts. As they slid down her hips and fell to her feet, a fevered ache pounded between her legs.

Powerful fingers made their way under her shirt and hunted down her breasts. As he thumbed her hard nipples, soft spasms danced in her abdomen.

Shit. Two seconds with Zander’s hands on her and she was ready to come. The soft cotton of her baby-doll tank was no match for his determination to get her naked.

“That was my favorite shirt.” She pouted.

“You say that about everything you wear. Can I just apologize now, for all the future clothing I’ll shred? I need to be inside you.” His lips traveled to her breasts. His rough tongue flicked across her hard nipple. He pulled it into his mouth and sucked until it was a taut peak. Grayce’s knees buckled.