Hunter's Rise (30 page)

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W

Sada tried to jerk away from his hands—she could get away. She could. Up the stairs, and then through that hidden door… the mirror. It had been behind the mirror. She did not remember much, but she remembered that, through the blood and the pain and the humiliation.

But his hands were so strong. So cruel and so strong. Memories flashed through her mind—those hands, ripping away the silk of her kimono, holding her down. No… she could not think of that now—she had to get away, had to…

J

It wasn’t the same mirror. It wasn’t.

And he was dead.

She’d planned to go after him— had even gone so far as to hire out for more help, because she knew she couldn’t take the man who’d made her. But he’d already been killed.

Rumor had it he’d been done by one of his own vamps— somebody else he’d made. It was sweet justice in Sylvia’s mind, but one she’d wanted for herself.

The mirror. Shit, that mirror… it couldn’t be his.

Face something from your past…

Setting her jaw, she stormed toward the table and threw it aside. It hit the wall in the room to her right with a crash, the crystal vase on it shattering into shards. “It’s nothing. You’re freaking over nothing.” She lifted a hand… and felt a faint draft.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed.

No.

She lifted her hands, feeling along the wall behind the mirror. When her questing fingers hit a small notch, she could have screamed. Instead, Sylvia pushed.

The door of the hell house where she’d been made had opened with a rough, grating noise— the sound of stone rubbing on stone. Here, there was barely anything, just the soft, almost inaudible whine of electronics whispering inside the wall.

As the mirror and the false wall disappeared into a recessed area, lights came on, illuminating the stairwell.

And the stink of death, blood and pain grew stronger.

Sylvia sagged to the ground, staring down those steps.

T

After all, Angel was parked there in a van, sitting in the open door with one knee drawn to her chest and a smile on her face.

Toronto hadn’t even completely stopped the bike when Kel was off and moving. Good thing, he figured. This way, Sylvia wouldn’t see he’d had somebody riding on the bike with him. While Kel was busy kissing his wife, Toronto let himself take in the night… and he didn’t like the feel of it at all.

Tension gathered inside him, edgy and hot, tightening his muscles, sharpening his senses. Things were getting ready to happen. He could all but taste it in the air.

He slanted Angel a look after Kel finally let her come up for air. “Kid, you know Rafe will have your hide if he knows how much you’re poking around in things.”

“I’m not worried.” She moved her shoulders in a lazy shrug, her fingers toying with the front of Kel’s shirt. “Besides, this mess is connected. I can almost see it my head.”

“I already figured that much out.” Toronto flashed her a wide grin. “And I’m not psychic. You losing your touch already, sugar?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, I just gave your girlfriend a very big piece of the puzzle, Tor. You should say thank you and go find her.”

“What piece?” He shifted, trying to see through the trees, but all he could make out was the bend of the driveway, what might be a house.

“Head on up the drive. Find her. You’ll start to figure things out. And you’ll find him soon.” She pulled away from Kel, a wicked look in her eyes. “You know, you two have a long drive ahead of you. Maybe you should let us take the bike back. You all can have the van.”

“She’d kill me— just have Lindsey head wherever with it. I’ll call her… make plans to meet up later, if you’re that certain we’ll need it.” Catching a hank of her hair, he tugged on it and then he shot Kel a look. “Make sure you floss tonight, Kel— gotta take care of those fangs and all.”

Kel stared at him balefully as Toronto took off down the driveway.

“I

“That’s probably why he does it. He’s just messing with you.” She pressed a kiss to his arm. “He’s different. Head isn’t quite so… wrapped around himself.”

Kel snorted. “He’s as self-involved as he ever was.”

She made a face. “It’s not that. And he’s not exactly self-involved. He’s locked up in his past and can’t seem to cut those threads, but it’s not choking him the way it was. He’s seeing others better than he usually does.”

*  *  *

N

Bad vibes.

That was all Toronto could think when he rounded the bend. Perched on the edge right above the water, it all but screamed money and power. It was also empty, except for Sylvia.

She was in there, somewhere.

And she was hurting. Pain, sorrow, joy and pleasure, all emotions had a way of scenting, coloring the air. And right now, the pain and fear was like a death shroud.

Drawing one of his blades, he held it close against his body, ready. He was pretty sure nobody was here… but that ball-busting little bitch wasn’t going to let just anything push her to fear. He could shift if he had to, but that would whisper through the air, a silent warning— he didn’t plan on giving
any
warning if he had to attack.

He ticked off the details as he went inside.

The door wasn’t locked— that was probably Sylvia’s handiwork. Door built to withstand a tank, practically. Solid walls. Vamp house. Cleverly disguised. Shallow outer rooms, light-safe inner rooms. Nothing set up to look like a prison, either, the way some vamp houses were laid out.

Whoever this was, the person had money, and he liked comfort.

Toronto scented the air, but the only person who’d been in this house recently was Sylvia.

And she was close—

There.

Sitting at the end of the hallway, staring down what looked to be a flight of stairs.

Still as death, pale as milk. And trembling.

“Sylvia?”

She didn’t move.

Closing the distance between them, he checked each room he passed— caution, caution… but there was nobody there, damn it. What the hell was going on?

Once he reached her side, he touched her arm and waited until she raised her eyes to his. “Sylvia, baby, what’s wrong?”

Her gaze lifted to his, and he saw something he knew very, very well… the shadows of old ghosts. Sighing, he slid the blade he carried back into his sheath and then settled beside her, touching her cheek. “What hurts you?”

“Toronto.” She blinked, a dazed look coming over her face.

She frowned, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize… shit. Stupid. I’m not being careful.” She went to get to her feet, but he reached out, caught her arm. “Shit like this can get somebody like me killed.”

“I think your body would have warned you if it had been somebody other than me.” He figured she’d pull away, but to his surprise, she didn’t. She closed her eyes and slumped over, burying her face in her hands. Shoulders bowed, she started to quiver.

Shit.
Don’t let her start to cry
, he thought, helplessness flooding him. Stroking her back, he stared down the steps while the wolf in him started to growl and pace. Whatever it was that had hurt her, it was here. So he just needed to find it, tear it apart and everything would be better, right?

“What’s wrong, Sylvia?” He leaned over, wrapping his body around hers and pressing his lips to the back of her neck. “You know… I can’t kill whatever it is until you tell me.”

She made a strange sound, halfway between a laugh and sob. “I can kill my problems just fine on my own, thank you.”

“But I’ll feel better if I kill whatever’s hurting you.” He nuzzled her neck. “And you can watch.”

“You can’t kill memories.” She sighed and lifted her head, staring down the stairs. “I was made over a century ago… in a place far too like this.” She shifted her gaze to the side and the haunted look in her eyes tore at his heart. “Made, then locked away, starved for the first few months. You want to know why I’m weaker? Why I can’t take sunlight? The bastard who made me crippled me. It wasn’t enough that he tortured me, that he raped me, that he stole my life… he had to make me so weak, it was a miracle I
was able to survive as long as I have. Those first few months, I didn’t even feed once a week.”

Rage snarled through him, tearing into him with jagged, poison-tipped claws. He’d hunt… and he’d kill—

“There’s a mirror,” she whispered. Swallowing, she eased away from him and stood up, beckoning until he came to stand beside her.

And he watched as she pushed on the side of the door. When it slid out, they were staring at what look like a wall, one that held a mirror. Beside him, she jolted, like she’d been jabbed with a silver blade.

“He had one like that. It hid a room, as well. That was where he kept me for the first few months. While he starved me.” Her lashes swept down, shielding her eyes from him.

“Who?” he demanded. The bastard had known what he was doing— depriving a newborn vamp like that was no different than depriving a human child. It weakened them.

Yet she’d survived. Pulled through and made herself a fighter in her own right.

“Who in the fuck was it?” he growled when she didn’t answer right away. He had to know, because he was going on a fucking Hunt right now— no. Shit. He couldn’t right now. Pulaski had to be dealt with. A child killer couldn’t remain free, but then, he’d go on a Hunt and that was all there was to it.

But he needed a name. Or a city. Something. He could go further back and pry into the details of her past without her help, but it would make it easier…

“He’s dead.” She slanted a sad smile at him. Reaching up, she touched his lips. “Were you going to track him down and do bad things to him, Hunter?”

“Yes,” he growled. He caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to the inside of it.

“Doing your job?”

“No.” Now he bit the soft pad at the base of her palm, then tugged her close. “I want him dead because he hurt you, tortured you, he did something he knew would damage you and he left you with fear in your eyes even after a century. I don’t like seeing you afraid.” He closed his eyes and shoved
the rage down. It couldn’t help now. She was wrestling with memories. She needed him to be a nonasshole, so he could help her with that. Taking a deep breath, he faced the mirror again. “Somehow I don’t think seeing a mirror would put you back in this spot.”

“It’s the same mirror.” She grimaced and reached up, touching her fingers to it. “It’s the same damn one, I’d swear on it. And the way he used it to mark the area he hid— it’s the same. Even the mechanism to open the door. I knew the moment I saw it.”

She swallowed and the sound was painfully loud. Stroking her back, he studied the mirror— he could break it. Easily. Even if he did believe in luck, what was seven years to a werewolf, right? “Perhaps one of his people.”

“Yeah. He liked making vamps.” The echo of pain lingered on her face as she rubbed the heel of her hand over her chest. “He liked torturing them even more.”

She sent him a sidelong glance. “There was a woman there… for a while. She smelled like Angel. He killed her not too long after he changed me. I remember the smell of her blood… it was… like a drug.” Pausing, she took a deep, steadying breath. “A strong, powerful drug. If I could have gotten out, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Gotten out.” Still staring at the mirror, he processed that. Easier to look at the mirror than her— if he wasn’t looking at her face, seeing that fear in her eyes, it was just a little easier to control the fury raging inside. “He kept you locked up.”

“Yes. In a room not much bigger than a closet.” Shooting him a quick glance, she moved away, shoving her hands through her hair before linking them behind her neck. “For the longest time, after I was away from him, I spent months, years running. Finally, I found a place to stay… a house I’d bought in Massachusetts. I made my own vamp room. Nothing fancy— just a simple, inner room with no windows and a door that faced north. And I stayed there. I left long enough to feed. Then I went back. All I wanted to do was feed and hide. Feed… and hide. Forget about those months with him.”

“How did you get away?”

“He got bored with me, and let me go.” She shrugged and
returned to stare at the window. “He’d already turned me. Broke me. Made me into a monster. What more fun could he have with me?”