Grave Attraction (27 page)

T
he farther away from the city Adam drove, the stronger the bond pulsed in his blood.

Little by little, strip malls gave way to residential streets, which in turn gave way to marshy wetlands and the winding St. Johns River. He hooked a right onto an old country road, and when he sped past a trailer not too far from the swamp, the bond sizzled in his blood like a shot of adrenaline. It had to be the place where Marlena was being held. He made a U-turn and pulled the truck onto the soft shoulder about a hundred yards away and then turned off the headlights and engine.

There weren't any streetlights on the road, leaving it darker than pitch outside. While he waited for his eyes to adjust, he listened to the noises of the night. The chirp of crickets filled the air, mixed with the croaking of frogs and the animated chatter of raccoons. Somewhere in the distance, an alligator bellowed, and the sound gave Adam the creeps. He never had to deal with shit like that in Chicago, and even after four years of living in Florida, he still wasn't used to the wildlife.

Pushing the thought aside, he dialed Dmitri. The former reaper picked up on the second ring.

“Are you guys still tracking Marlena's phone?” Adam asked.

“Of course.”

“Good. She's in a trailer not too far from my position. I'm going in after her.”

“Why don't you wait until we get there? We're only about forty minutes behind.”

“She could be dead by then.”

He disconnected and shoved the phone in his back pocket before grabbing his gun from beneath the seat. Under cover of night, he darted across the quiet two-lane road and stalked toward the trailer. Brentwood's sedan was parked out front beside an old Chevy van.

Tiny cracks of light shined around the edges of the windows and front door of the mobile home. Adam paused, reaching out with his mind to scan for signs of life inside. Three, and one of them wasn't human.

His hopes rose. He wasn't too late.

Narrowing his focus, he concentrated on Marlena's life force, pinpointing her location to the far end of the home. One of the humans was with her in the room, while the other wasn't too far away.

Primal instincts pounded in his blood, demanding he take immediate action. They had his woman and planned to harm her. No way was he letting that happen. He'd save Marlena, and then he'd lay waste to the assholes who dared to hurt her.

His grip on the gun tightened as he crept across the overgrown yard. With only a sliver of moon in the sky, he couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him. To his right, he passed a fifty-five-gallon drum that reeked of burned-out trash. Mosquitoes buzzed around his face; he waved his free hand to shoo them away. Just another couple feet, and he could use the sedan for cover. The mate bond roared in his head as he neared, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from storming the trailer like a berserker.

How to get in, he wondered as he approached. He needed some kind of diversion to gain the upper hand, but what?

When he reached the sedan, he tried the driver's side door and found it unlocked. Quietly, he cracked the door open and peered inside. There was nothing of value, just a jacket tossed on the passenger seat and a wadded-up fast food bag on the floor. He checked the back, scowling when he found it empty. If he had a lighter, he'd set the damn thing on fire and use it for the distraction he needed. But he didn't, so he softly shut the door and moved toward the van. He was less than ten feet away when he heard a soft beep-beep-beep.

Shit, that couldn't be good. He froze, his gaze tracking toward the noise, and he spotted a blinking red light mounted on a nearby tree.

 

Inside the trailer, an alarm blared loudly enough to make Marlena's ears ring.

“Somebody's outside,” Jeremiah said, and she felt a flicker of hope.

His partner in crime didn't seem as concerned. “I don't see anything on the monitors. It's probably just a deer. They're all over the damn place out here.”

“Go outside and check.”

“Aw, man. I'm telling you, it's only a deer. They triggered the alarm last night too.”

“I don't care about what happened last night. She wasn't here last night. Go check. And bring one of the shotguns in case it's not an animal.”

The other guy let out an irritated grunt. “Yeah, fine, whatever.” Footsteps stomped to the other side of the room, and a second or two later the door opened and slammed shut.

To her right, she heard a lock engaging, followed by sounds of movement.

Jeremiah grumbled under his breath while he checked the restraints holding her prisoner. Apparently satisfied, he walked away, his pungent scent fading with every step.

Marlena cracked her eyes open and peered about the room. No sign of Jeremiah, so she tugged on the restraints, biting back a growl when they refused to budge. On the bright side, the collar wasn't connected to anything, so she was able to move her head around. Escape would be a lot easier if she could shift, but the collar made that impossible. She tried again, her teeth clenched tight as she applied strong, steady pressure against the metal cuffs.

Nothing.

Infuriated, she thumped her head against the gurney. She hated feeling helpless and weak.

Outside, a shotgun blast tore through the night. Must have been more than a deer after all. Footsteps pounded down the hall, and Marlena closed her eyes a split second before Jeremiah blew back into the room. She smelled gunpowder as he stormed past, muttering to himself.

“Idiot,” he said. The shade rustled. More footsteps.

She opened her eyes again once he left the room, and she watched as he walked down the hall and slipped out the back door.

From out of nowhere, her vision doubled, and a wave of disorientation swept over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ride out the dizziness, but it only seemed to worsen. Then she heard a familiar voice inside her head, and the dour British accent made her teeth gnash.

“Squander what?” she demanded, but Samuel didn't answer. She looked around the room but saw no sign of him.

Great, now she was hearing things. What a lousy time to lose her marbles.

Suddenly, the collar around her neck grew hot, and she flinched as it seared her skin. It felt as if her flesh was cooking, and for a moment, she thought she'd be sick. But then the collar went cold, and she realized it no longer shimmered with magical energy.

Which meant she could shift.
Oh, thank God.

Her senses sharpened, and the smile dropped away from her face when the mate bond roared in her blood. It was never this strong unless Adam was near, which meant her mate was outside with Jeremiah and his partner.

Another shotgun blast shattered the silence. Her breath caught in her throat. Adam needed help, and he needed it now.

Focusing inward, she summoned a partial change, making her hands longer and thinner so she could slip them out of the cuffs. Then she did the same for her feet. Shifting again, she turned her hands into blades and hacked away at the duct tape holding her prisoner.

Free of the restraints, she climbed off the table. Her legs felt shaky as she staggered to the window. She pulled back the shade and peeked outside, but all she saw was a car and a van.

Three more shots fired outside. They sounded different from the others, like they came from a pistol instead of a shotgun. The thought of what they might be doing to Adam made Marlena's vision flash red. She dashed to the back door and slipped outside, pausing long enough to elongate her fingers into claws and enhance her eyes for night vision.

A low growl vibrated from deep in her throat as she prowled into the darkness in search of her prey.

 

The trailer door opened, and Adam dove for cover when somebody stepped outside.

Even in the dark, he could tell the guy was built like a bulldozer. He held something long and slender in his hands, like a bat or maybe a rifle. He lumbered down the steps of the mobile home and plodded in Adam's direction.

To avoid being spotted, Adam scurried around the van. Slowly, quietly, he rounded the front end and watched the man skulk toward the edge of the property. A car sped by, and the passing headlights gave him a better view of the guy. Yep, he was a big boy all right, and he held a shotgun in his hands.

Adam stepped away from the van in order to get a clear shot. He crept closer and had the guy in his sights when something snapped under his foot.

The guy spun around, and the flash of a muzzle interrupted the darkness. The slug went wide, tearing into a tree, and Adam dove back behind the van.

“Come on out!” the man shouted, a heavy Southern drawl to his voice. “Hands up where I can see 'em.”

Yeah, like that was going to happen. Staying low, Adam ran between the two vehicles and peered over the roof of the sedan.

The asshole was moving in Adam's direction, his weapon raised and ready. He halted about twenty feet from the vehicles, his head cocked to one side as if listening for signs of Adam's whereabouts.

Reaching into his pocket, Adam dug out what little change he had. It wasn't much more than a few measly coins, but it was enough for what he had in mind. He cocked his arm back and heaved them in the direction of the fifty-five-gallon drum. When the coins clanged against the metal, the man whirled toward the sound and fired a shot.

In an instant, Adam popped out from behind the sedan, aimed his pistol, and squeezed the trigger three times. At least one bullet hit its mark, because the guy let out a strangled yelp and crumpled to the ground.

Cautious, Adam inched toward the fallen man. When he got close enough, he kicked the shotgun away and crouched down beside the body. In the pale moonlight, he could just make out the entry wound on the left side of his forehead. Pressing two fingers against the man's neck, he checked for a pulse to confirm what he already knew.

Leaving nothing to chance, he harvested the man's soul, not bothering to be gentle as he severed the spirit's bond with the flesh. He corralled the soul in the place inside his body that served as a holding cell for the recently departed. When the dust settled and Marlena was safe, he'd send the asshole off to the afterlife to contend with whatever fate awaited him.

“Drop your weapon and put your hands up,” a man's deep voice said from behind him.

Every muscle in Adam's body tensed. As instructed, he laid his pistol on the ground and raised his hands in the air. He stole a glance over his shoulder. Jeremiah Brentwood stood about ten feet away, his rifle trained on Adam.

“I called the police. They should be here any minute.” Adam hoped the lie would be enough to stall Brentwood.

Jeremiah stepped closer but not close enough for Adam to grab for the rifle. His gaze flicked to the man on the ground. “Elias?”

“Elias needs medical attention.” And a mortician, but Adam kept that part to himself. “Do you know CPR?”

Jeremiah motioned with the rifle for Adam to move away from the body. With the butt of the gun tucked against the crook of his shoulder, he knelt beside Elias. Reaching down, he checked the other man's pulse. His mouth dropped open, and he shot to his feet, his finger hovering over the trigger. “You son of a bitch.”

“You don't want to do that,” Adam said, his eyes never leaving Jeremiah. He mentally inserted the command into Jeremiah's mind, and the man's face scrunched up in confusion. “Put the gun down.”

The power of suggestion was a formidable weapon, but some humans were resistant to its application. Apparently, Jeremiah Brentwood was one of them. The barrel shook in the bastard's hands as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead.

“You're one of
them
,” Jeremiah snarled.

“Yes, I am.” And he wasn't about to let this asshole gun him down like a rabid animal. He planted the suggestion in Jeremiah's mind again, and fear flashed across the man's face.

Adam lowered his hands and took a step forward.

“Put your hands back up!”

“I don't think so.” Another step and he was within reach of the barrel. The only question was whether he could shove the gun aside before Jeremiah pulled the trigger. “Don't you recognize me? I'm the grim fucking reaper. I've already taken your friend's soul tonight. Do you want me to take yours as well? Now put. The gun. Down.”

Adam planted the mental suggestion once more, and this time Jeremiah lowered the weapon. He still held the rifle, but at least it wasn't pointed directly at Adam, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Movement in his periphery caught Adam's attention. As he peered to his right, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Marlena stalking toward them. Her face held no expression, and her eyes appeared almost feline. But her fingers had morphed into long, sharp claws, making her intentions clear.

“Marlena, wait—”

Everything happened so fast, and yet it seemed to move in slow motion. Jeremiah's head whipped in her direction, and he lifted the rifle as Adam tackled him. A deafening explosion filled the night air, and then the two men were rolling on the ground, punching, kicking, and wrestling for control of the weapon. There was another burst of gunfire, and Jeremiah jerked before going still. Ears ringing, Adam wrenched the rifle away and tossed it into the grass. The coppery smell of fresh blood fouled the air, and thankfully it wasn't his. Panting, he fell back against the grass and tried to catch his breath.

Marlena's face filled his vision, and he'd never been happier to see her.