Katie's Hellion (Rhyn Trilogy, Book One) (24 page)

She wondered if she’d freak everyone out with
a few Hello Kitty posters to take away the severity of the rooms.
They strode through the bedchamber to a small living room to the
side with a flat-screen TV and comfortable-looking couch. The
windows all faced east, over another valley, and a terrace was
decorated with dainty iron-scrolled chairs. Off the living room was
a private dining area.

Opposite the living room was a massive
bathroom with marble floors, a Jacuzzi, small sauna, and a large
shower with multiple shower heads.

"Doesn’t this make you feel so much better?"
Ully asked, envy in his voice.

She saw the glow of his eagerness and tried
to be more upbeat than she felt, for his sake.

"It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever
seen."

"I know!"

"And this is mine?"

"Yep! And Rhyn’s, unless he wants to stay
with the other Ancients in their hall."

She didn’t think he would but remained
silent. At least, she
hoped
he wouldn’t.

"I’ll leave you here. Make yourself at
home."

She didn’t fully register his words until the
door closed behind him. The bedchamber was silent. She looked
around, feeling very much alone in the cavernous room. She couldn’t
help but think the barracks and all their activity and life were
far more appealing than the solemn, stately apartment that was
hers.

Her sister would be in heaven.

She felt like crying again. She roamed the
apartment again and opened all the closets and drawers, not
surprised to find them filled, as if she’d lived there all her life
and hadn’t just arrived.

It was creepy. She left the apartment and
walked down the silent halls, turning down the hall with the common
areas in time to see the back of a silk ball gown disappear into
opened doors. She slowed until she smelled the scents of dinner.
Suddenly ravenous, she quickened her step despite her dread of
meeting one of the elitist mates.

Her gaze landed on the dining room, which
looked much like that of a fancy restaurant. Small tables seating
four were well spaced for privacy, with candles lighting each table
and an assortment of flatware she’d never seen before. The room was
warm and cozy, its walls done up in dark lacquered wood, the warm
glow of chandeliers non-imposing. The soft sounds of talk drifted
to her, but it was the dress of the women within that drew her
eye.

Few women wore similar fashions from similar
eras. There were wide eighteenth-century ball gowns, women in
little black dresses, one in a fifties poodle skirt, and several in
dark dresses with ornate brocade on the bodice, like that of
wealthy Middle Age royalty. One woman wore rustic battle wear from
an era she couldn’t name, another flowing Grecian robes, yet
another robes of a different era. While their dress was different,
their faces were similar: stunning beauties from across
history.

"Ms. Katie?"

The maître d’ looked at her skeptically, as
if the woman passing in a revealing Middle Eastern belly dancing
costume ahead of her was normal and jeans were not.

"Yes," she replied, her gaze going from him
to the grand buffet in the center of the dining room.

"Shall I seat you?"

She nodded, hungry enough to set foot in the
room with the most beautiful women in history. He led her to a
private table in the corner near the buffet, as if sensing her
unease. She had barely sat when a servant bearing a tray of coffee
and diet root beer --her favorite --set down the drinks in front of
her.

How was it possible they knew everything
about her?

Rather than go to the buffet herself, the
servant joined several others selecting morsels and food for her to
try. He returned and set it before her. She looked at him, then at
the silverware, and picked a fork she recognized.

The food was heavenly, the duck crisped to
perfection in a light, tangy sauce, the vegetables still fresh.
Even the honey butter was a perfect balance between sweet and rich,
and the rolls still warm when she bit into them. Dessert was a
slice of five different kinds of pies, and she dug into everything,
eating fast.

"…only fitting he’d choose a classless
barbarian. He’s a demon."

She froze at the cultured voice with its rich
accent, knowing the woman at the nearest table spoke about her. She
shouldn’t care, but part of her did. She was alone in a world she
didn’t fit into, and she wanted more than anything to escape.

She glanced around, abruptly aware of the
number of looks she received. Some were politely curious, others
pitying, still others resembling that of the maître d’. More than
one went beyond polite disdain and glared to the point of
hostility.

Declining seconds, she finished her meal and
rose, suddenly wishing she hadn’t been seated in the far corner.
Those at the tables she passed quieted and watched. Ignoring the
looks on their faces, she marched to the door. Once she was out of
sight, she ran. She didn’t know where exactly she went aside from
down from the top floor. She followed what she thought was the path
Ully had brought her on and found her way to the women’s
barracks.

There was life here, and friendly looks as
she passed. She made her way through the common areas to the dorms
and cautiously opened the door to the room that had been hers. It
was blessedly empty.

She flung herself onto the bed, tears in her
eyes. It still smelled of
him
, and she couldn’t help wishing
he was there, even if all he did was piss her off.

"Katie."

She wiped her eyes and twisted, surprised to
see Kris in her doorway. He gazed at her for a long moment, an odd
gleam in his eye. She sat uneasily. He entered and closed the
door.

"What do you want, Kris?"

"Why aren’t you in your bedchamber?"

"I like it here better."

His gaze slid to the floor, and he shook his
head ever so slightly, as if trying to shake free an unpleasant
thought.

"Did Rhyn make you cry?"

"No," she said, crossing her arms at the odd
question. "Rhyn’s been the only man to take care of me in this
godforsaken world."

His eyes flared amber. Before she could
blink, he snatched her and shoved her against the wall, pinning her
to it with his body.

"By all rights, you should’ve been
mine
!" he snarled in a low growl.

"Kris --"

"Shut up! He stole
her
from me just
like he did you."

She said nothing, afraid to move, afraid to
speak. She rested her cheek against the cool stone wall.

"The only human who can help us defeat evil,
and you chose
him
."

"Kris, you’re not yourself," she
whispered.

"You think I give a damn about one stupid,
feeble, weak human, especially one mated to Rhyn? You think I’d let
you stand between me and my fate?"

He wrenched her head back and gripped her
neck, nuzzling it.

"Kris, don’t do this," she managed.

"Whatever is in your blood can tame
evil."

She tried to pull away, but he pressed her
harder against the wall until she could barely breathe. His fangs
sank into her neck, and she jerked, feeling her skin and muscle
tear. She cried out and arched, blinded by pain as he held her
against the wall. He didn’t take blood gently as Rhyn did; no, Kris
wanted
her to hurt!

He drank deep and long until she began to
grow woozy. His erection pressed hard against her backside, and
tears slid down her face. She shook from pain and fear of what he’d
do next, if he was more like Sasha than Rhyn.

She closed her eyes and wished herself home.
The shadow world appeared hazily around her. She willed herself
there, concentrating hard to keep from losing the connection.

Kris released her and stepped away.

"Oh, god, Katie…" His voice was hoarse, a mix
of pleasure and horror.

She sagged against the wall and gripped her
bleeding neck. The shadow world swallowed her in its fog. There
were several portals, and she hesitated, focusing on the image of
her apartment. One of the portals grew brighter. She staggered
toward it, stumbled, then fell through it and landed flat on her
back on a familiar, faded red rug. It was dark, the spinning world
lit by the kitchen and hallway light.

"Mama!" Toby cried.

She closed her eyes, terrified of bleeding to
death right there in her own home.

"Wait in the kitchen." It was Gabriel’s
voice. He was blurry as he knelt beside her. His black gaze was
still visible in the dark living room. She felt him assess her
before he pried her hand free and rested his there, sealing the
wound.

"Juice, Toby!"

He propped her up, and she sagged against
him, unable to keep from crying at the thought of one sworn to
protect humanity nearly killing her!

Gabriel lifted her and carried her down the
hall. She shied away from her reflection, from the paleness of her
skin and the stark red of her blood soaking the cream sweater. The
death dealer set her on the bed. Toby clambered up beside her,
spilling the juice.

"Rhyn’s mate?" he exclaimed. "Wow, Katie,
wow!"

"Go make cocoa," Gabriel said, expertly
rescuing the juice before more spilled.

Toby obeyed. Gabriel waited until he was gone
before pulling a chair to the side of the bed.

"Rhyn didn’t do this," he observed, handing
her the juice.

She wiped her face again and shook her head,
pain thrumming through her body. Rhyn could make it leave. She
didn’t know how, but she knew he could. Gabriel touched her
forehead, and cold lightning buzzed through her, absorbing the
pain. She released a tight breath. His hand remained, and she felt
the cool lightning in her mind, ruffling through her memories.

"Gabriel," she objected.

"Kris?"

She said nothing.

"Rhyn needs to know."

"It’s the last thing he needs to know! He and
Kris are barely working together as it is. I think Kris is right
--the fate of humanity is more important than me."

"Doesn’t give him a right to break the
Immortal Code. You don’t touch another’s mate."

"The Immortal Code has done me no favors yet,
Gabriel," she said, beyond exhausted. "Can we talk about it in the
morning? Please?"

Gabriel fell silent, and she closed her eyes,
exhausted.

* * *

"His time is up, my pet."

Gabriel replaced the hourglass after several
unsuccessful attempts to shake it. The sand at the bottom didn't
move.

"He's almost there," he replied, facing the
bright figure that was Death.

She offered one of her warm smiles and
approached him, looking up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her
gaze. The heavy Caribbean air rustled the pages of the Oracle's
book. A storm brewed on the horizon, visible through the window
behind Death.

"What?" he asked warily. "The last time you
looked at me like that, I lost a bet."

"I guess it's cheating when you can see the
future," she mused.

"Damn right it's cheating."

"Then you better answer this question
right."

He crossed his arms, aware she was the only
creature not intimidated by his displays of strength. She whirled
away and crossed to the Oracle's book, closing it after his failed
attempt to see Rhyn's fate.

He watched her grab the hourglass and toss it
in the air. It disappeared before it could hit the ceiling. He felt
dread knot in his stomach at the sign she wasn't going to give Rhyn
yet another chance.

"Would you do anything for your friend?"

His jaw clenched at the question. She'd been
trying for years to have his voluntary service revoked.

"I've always done everything you asked," he
replied. "I've served you longer than any of the others. You'd put
me in the position of choosing my freedom or my friend's life?"

"I sensed a thaw in you. The moment one of my
assassins hesitates --or starts to care --I make them dead-dead. I
don't own you like I do them, and I like you, Gabriel," she
said.

"You're threatening to kill me now?" he
asked, bemused.

"We both want something. Just say yes, you'll
do anything for your friend, and I'll spare him a little
longer."

"How much longer?"

She looked at him knowingly before saying,
"You don't trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then say yes, Gabriel. You've served me long
enough to know what I am. Unless you were considering leaving
me?"

He said nothing, aware the thought had
crossed his mind more than once lately. His gaze went to the
incoming storm. His life wouldn't change drastically if he agreed.
He just couldn’t walk away.

Ever.

He'd taken Rhyn to Hell. This sacrifice was
the least he could do for his friend.

"Yes. Give him more time," he said
softly.

Death smiled slowly, satisfied with the prize
she'd won.

* * *

Katie was thinking of how much whiskey it’d
take to dull the edge of her headache when the phone rang.
Irritated, she would’ve ignored it if not for Toby, who snatched it
in excitement.

"What’re you doing?" Toby yelled into the
phone.

She looked at him. In four hundred thousand
years, he hadn’t learned to answer a phone right? He carried on a
conversation for a few minutes, and she rested her head back,
staring at the ceiling.

Though she hated to admit it, she’d hoped
Rhyn was calling. Her heart leapt then dropped to her feet when she
realized a man like that didn’t call. He’d just appear whenever he
felt like it. If he ever felt like it. If he cared AT ALL that his
blood monkey and mate had been totally abused. Again.

"It’s for you!" Toby called, holding out the
phone. "It’s Auntie Hannah!"

"Heya, Katherine."