Katie's Hellion (Rhyn Trilogy, Book One) (9 page)

"He can’t sense you while I’m here," Kris
whispered.

She watched as the creature neared in the
shadowy darkness. Katie's breathing grew shallow. Her eyes stayed
on the creature, which joined several more tattooed beings in the
hall before they all struck out in different directions.

As if on cue, the auxiliary lighting came on,
casting a romantic glow around her.

"No one should know you're here. We gotta get
out of here," Kris said.

His hand gripped her neck loosely. A pulse of
warmth dispelled the tunnel vision that had begun to form.

"We'll take a shortcut."

He took her hand and led her through the
crowd at a steady pace. She looked over her shoulder, uncertain
where the men with tattoos were. She didn’t know what they --or
he
--wanted, but if the man before her was worried, she
should be terrified. Kris reached an alcove out of sight of the
crowds and faced her.

"Close your eyes," he ordered.

She stared at him. He gripped her arm. Before
she could shove him away, the sounds of their world fell silent.
She looked around, stunned. Their surroundings looked as if someone
had left a fog machine on too long in a gym. Several doorways
glowed around her, and Kris yanked her toward one. She opened her
mouth to speak and then clamped it shut, her stomach turning. He
all but dragged her through one of the glowing doorways before she
vomited.

Kris muttered curses and touched her
shoulder.

Warmth and cold shot through her, righting
her stomach but bringing intense pain to her head. She pushed his
hand away, unable to stabilize the hot and cold racing through her
blood. Her teeth chattered and her body felt so hot she wanted to
scream.

"Stop it!" she all but shouted. "God, my
head!" She gripped it, vision blurred and balance precarious atop
the four-inch heels. He reached for her and she stumbled back,
holding up her hand to ward him off. He snatched both hands in one
of his, balancing her with his body as he placed his other hand
against her forehead. The sensations stabilized and then
dissipated.

"Enough, enough, enough!" she belted with a
shove.

Her vision cleared to reveal she now stood in
a luxurious living room with several people in front of her
displaying varying levels of alarm on their faces. She wiped the
tears from her face, feeling more torn up than she had the day
before. Tattoos flared on the arms and necks of the people in front
of her before fading and growing invisible again.

"Whiskey?" Ully was the first to speak.

"Two," Kris replied.

She caught her balance against the arm of a
sofa.

"Your rescue mission went well," one of them
commented with a half smile.

He was built like Kris with dark hair. The
similarities stopped at their tanzanite eyes and chiseled features;
the speaker’s skin was as dark as night.

"Are you all right?" he asked. He rose and
motioned for her to take his seat in a plush armchair.

She didn’t answer, concentrating on figuring
out where the hell she was.

"I’m Andre. This is Jade and Ileana. You know
my brother Kris. You also know Gabriel and Ully, I believe."

She lowered herself onto the sofa.

"Feels like I've been on a drinking binge,"
she murmured.

"Kris, real people aren’t supposed to go
through the shadow world," Ully said, wide eyes on the man with
glowing amber eyes.

"No shit, Ully," the man named Jade
responded.

"I went through the shadow world?" she asked,
brow furrowing.

"Technically, you may have died," Ileana said
with a sip of wine. "Death gets pissed when mortals go through the
shadow world."

Built more like the beauties her sister
surrounded herself with, Ileana was a natural bombshell with
pillowed lips and large eyes.

"Hey, we’re alike now!" Ully said, handing
her two glasses of whiskey.

She took the glasses from him and downed them
one at a time, then handed them back.

"Glad to see you’re taking this so well,"
Kris said.

Fury lit her insides at his calm words, as if
he wasn’t responsible for destroying her life! She rose, wobbled,
and pulled off her heels. She looked around until her eyes met
those of the death dealer.

"Gabriel, you’re taking me home," she
ordered.

The death dealer rose.

"Sit, Gabriel," Kris responded.

Gabriel obeyed, and Katie flung a shoe at the
domineering man with the jewel-toned eyes. He caught it with
reflexes too fast for her to follow.

"You
will
send me home, and you’ll
remove Toby, Gabriel, and every other interference you placed in my
life, down to the scuff marks in the hallway, which I know weren’t
there on Tuesday! No more dead doctors, no more kidnappings, no
more blood draws, nothing!"

The angrier she got, the calmer Kris looked.
His eyes went from emerald to tanzanite again.

"When you calm down, we’ll --" he
started.

"No. Now. I’m going home
now
. Back to
my boring life, my horrible job, my tiny apartment.
Now,
Kris!"

She saw the white of his knuckles as he
gripped her shoe hard and sensed she was pushing a wild animal. His
jaw was clenched and ticking as the muscles jumped.

He wasn’t going to budge. Neither was
she.

"Let’s take a step back, shall we?" Andre
said, stepping in front of her. "We shouldn’t take you through the
shadow world to return you. If Kris didn’t kill you on the way
here, he might on the way back. I’m going to send Kris away and
bring you a bottle of whiskey. Then we’ll talk. Is that okay?"

His presence and words were as soothing as
Kris’s were not. She felt herself relaxing at his even tone and the
words that seemed logical enough. She didn’t want to be dead, and
she definitely needed more whiskey. At her hesitation, he motioned
for her to sit again and turned, continuing to block Kris from
sight.

"Brother," he said with gentle command.
"Jade, you, too. Gabriel, do whatever you do."

The death dealer disappeared. She heard Kris
stir, and the cocoa-skinned Jade followed. Andre relaxed and sat on
the couch near her while Ileana drew close as well. Ully reappeared
with a carafe of whiskey and set it down, taking Andre’s head nod
as a cue to leave.

Andre poured her whiskey and sat back. She
sipped it, rubbing the back of her neck.

"You are handling this well," he said.

She eyed him. His words appeared genuine,
unlike Kris’s.

"You’d have to be pretty mentally tough to go
through all this without cracking."

"Oh, I’m cracking."

He chuckled. Despite her fury and fear, she
found his presence oddly calming, like sitting in a spa surrounded
by incense with her feet in a salt bath. The air around her felt
heavy and still.

He was doing something to her. Even with her
precious whiskey, she shouldn’t feel like she did. She shook her
head, trying to clear it of the fog he’d placed there.

"I don’t need you to placate me!"

He leaned forward, curiosity flaring in his
tanzanite eyes. Whatever fog gripped her dissipated suddenly, and
she breathed a sigh at the palpable release. She tossed back the
whiskey, meeting his gaze only when he placed his hand across the
top of the carafe.

"You’ve had enough," he said with genuine
concern. "I apologize. I won’t do it again."

She pulled the carafe from his hand and
poured herself another two shots. He pursed his lips then poured
himself a shot and sat back to sip it. They gazed at each other for
a long moment.

"Did I really die?" she asked at last.

"No. But mortals shouldn’t travel through the
shadow world. It’s hit and miss on what’ll happen."

"What exactly is going on?"

He leaned forward and placed the glass on the
table.

"It’s a long story, one you don’t necessarily
need to know to understand your circumstances. My brother’s people
found you and identified your unique gift for…blocking their
natural talents. It makes you valuable and dangerous. If our
enemies find you, they can take your blood and modify the creatures
who work for them to make them immune to us."

"Back up a sec. Natural talents?"

"Our ancestors were immortalized --albeit
incorrectly --in myths. Mages, vampires, elves, immortal creatures
with extraordinary powers who battle evil for supremacy and the
ultimate fate of mankind."

"And my unique gift could make the bad guys
immune to the good guys."

"Correct."

"Why is your brother so pissy when he
interfered with
my
life?"

"My brother is never pissy," Andre said with
polite offense. "He’s unaccustomed to having his authority
challenged. We nicknamed him the Phoenix, which is notorious for
not only rising from ashes but also for taking down everyone and
everything around them in flames. He’s forever in that stage that
precedes a perfect storm."

"Highly combustible, I get it. Send me home,
get rid of everything that shouldn’t be there, and move on.
Everyone will be happy."

"I wish it were that easy."

"Why isn’t it?" she prodded.

"Because our enemies have your blood and know
everything about you. This started out as a mission about us but
has turned into a mission about
you
."

"How did you trick my sister Hannah into
thinking I had a kid, when you and I know I don’t?"

"Angels must be raised by humans. It’s
something immortals learned long ago. Angels are mortals’ allies,
but they can’t appreciate the intricacies of mortals without the
years of exposure. When we placed Toby with you, we altered the
minds of those in your immediate family circle. We learned that
those outside of this circle are less likely to be concerned about
the appearance of the child. The human mind is quick to find
excuses to accept such things."

She gripped her head, feeling sick.

"Go and rest. We'll talk in the morning,"
Andre said kindly.

"I could use some food, though. Too much
alcohol on an empty stomach."

"I'll send dinner. Your room is the third on
the left."

He indicated a narrow hallway off the large
formal living room. She stood, wobbled, and then went the direction
he indicated. The room was dark, the floor-to-ceiling windows
displaying the incredible views of the Eiffel Tower , whose frame
was outlined by lights against the dark Parisian sky She was about
to step onto the balcony when a knock at the door drew her
attention.

Andre entered, followed by a second man
carrying a large tray of food.

"I included the whiskey, though I advise you
to stop drinking soon," he said with brotherly firmness. "We'll be
going to a soiree across the street in about an hour. You'll have
some peace, at least until tomorrow morning."

Katie offered a watery smile, eyes going to
the roast lamb, bread, and custard. They left, and she sat and ate
leisurely. When she finished, she crossed to the balcony.

She’d never left the country and couldn’t
help but stare in wonder at the romantically lit Arc de Triomphe.
The street below was narrower than it appeared on TV and packed
with cars and elegantly dressed men and women walking to a
gathering across the street --probably the soiree Andre had
mentioned.

In the distance was a dark swath of park
leading up to the lit-up Eiffel Tower, which was larger than she’d
imagined. The air was chilly, but she left the window open to the
street sounds and the cold, wanting to feel normal.

Wiggling her toes in the plushest carpet
she’d ever felt, she leaned against the window sill, exhausted yet
wired. Andre was the only gentleman in this outfit and the only to
take pity on her.

Her headache was gone, her stomach full, and
another glass of whiskey in her hand. By the end of this ordeal,
she’d be an alcoholic.

If
it ever ended. Andre and Kris
seemed to think she was there for the long haul. Her chest
tightened again, and she sipped more of the warming liquid. She
wondered if this was what immortality felt like, watching humanity
progress down a road unable to join them in soirees or understand
how precious every second of life was. Did humans understand both
their universal significance and their individual
insignificance?

She shook the thoughts away, suspecting they
weren’t hers. Whenever Andre tried his shit, her head felt foggy,
and right now, she was foggy.

"Stop it!" she hissed at him, suspecting he’d
hear her, even if he was one of those in attendance at the
soiree.

The sense eased. She slumped against the
sill, hot from the inside out while the late fall breeze chilled
her skin. Her eyes fell to the entryway in front of the elegant
building in which she stayed, then to the street further down,
where several forms moved from beneath a canopy, trailed by a
shadow darker than night. She saw Kris and squeezed her glass to
keep from hurling it at him. Andre was with him, the beautiful
woman, the dark man Jade. All trailed by Gabriel, who paused to
look up and wave at her.

She waved back, wondering how the most
damning of them all was also the only who seemed anywhere able to
feel sympathy. Gabriel disappeared. She imagined he went to her
apartment to check on Toby and was struck by her longing to return
to the tiny, cluttered mess of a life that was hers. She closed her
eyes, desperately wishing the whiskey’d take effect and knock her
out.

The boom of thunder and a bright glare made
her eyes open. It hadn’t come from the sky but from one of the
buildings across the street, diagonal to her. She suspected
fireworks and saw something streak into the sky. It didn’t explode
into lights but fell to her side of the street. She watched in
fascination, not understanding what it was until a floor several
below hers exploded into flying stone and fire. The impact of the
rocket knocked her on her backside. She heard another boom, then a
third.