“Gabriel, don’t! Shit.”
Gannon’s words barely carried over the gun fire and chaos,
but they didn’t stop his king from charging into the fray.
Going for his Glock, Gannon slammed the van door closed.
Rounding the vehicle, he pounded his fist along the side. “Get them to the safe
house. Silvie will be there. Go!”
Without hesitation or question, the driver sped off, tires
screeching. The pungent scent of burnt rubber mingled with the fragrance of sea
air, gun powder, blood, and death.
Just another Saturday night, Gannon thought as he sprinted across the cement dock after
his friend.
Joining his soldiers, Gabriel Erhard, King of the Tapfer Clan,
crashed into battle, armed with only a pair of daggers and a set of throwing
stars.
Naturally,
Gabriel brought blades to a gun fight.
Gannon knew his king and mentor was a Maniac, but he wasn’t sure if he should
tag on Homicidal or Suicidal to the beginning of the title. There was one thing
for certain, Gabriel was crazed and impossibly graceful as he fought. Slicing,
cutting, stabbing, dodging bullets and hurling stars, gliding through the
carnage with deadly elegance. He made murder and mayhem beautiful, like a true
artist.
Gannon emptied a clip and loaded another as he barreled into
the boathouse along with their soldiers. Boras’ guards were retreating, but
they had no chance or hope of escape. None would survive, Gabriel’s orders. Not
that anyone cared or would dare question their new king. As Clan leader,
Gabriel’s word was law.
Gannon snarled as a bullet grazed his right shoulder,
ruining his favorite leather jacket.
Son-of-a-bitch!
He fired back, taking down three more of Boras’ lackeys.
More bullets whistled past him as he fought to reach Gabriel’s side. With a
storm of gunfire surrounding them, Gabriel continued to strike, his gaze fixed
on Pavlo who, according to their intel, was the commanding officer of this pack
of slave traders.
Pavlo turned, abandoning his men. He ran toward the back of
the boathouse. In a blink, Gabriel was in front of the cowardly vampire,
blocking his escape. Unleashing an Earth shattering roar that drowned the
thunder of the gun fight, Gabriel grabbed Pavlo by the throat. The weaker vampire
struggled, scratching at Gabriel’s leather clad hand as he was lifted off his
feet.
Silence slowly rolled over the waterfront like fog as the
last of their enemies fell. Limbs, weapons, and shell casings scattered the
floor of the weathered boathouse.
Gannon reloaded, but didn’t advance. He remained as if stuck
in cement boots. The Tapfer soldiers did the same. Gabriel’s demon had joined
the party, making their king as volatile as a nuclear missile. Ready to
detonate at any moment.
As his current target of frustration, Pavlo was experiencing
Gabriel’s violence full force. The commanding officer flew through the air and
bounced off the side of an old fishing boat. The sound of cracking bones hissed
through the air as Pavlo rolled over bodies, his broken limbs flailed until he
tumbled to a stop at Gabriel’s boots.
Gannon wanted to ask if anyone
had seen their king move, but he kept his mouth shut.
Gripping a dagger in each hand,
Gabriel slammed the blades into Pavlo’s shoulders like meat hooks and hauled
him through puddles of blood. The commander’s flesh and muscle tore as he
thrashed helpless against Gabriel’s strength and fury.
Kicking open the door labeled “Manager’s Office,” Gabriel
threw the vampire inside sending him crashing against the cinder block wall.
Gannon holstered his gun and followed his king. “Find the
security room. I want every recording. And take anything you find that could be
of value. Plant the bombs, we’ll destroy what’s left,” Gannon instructed the
soldiers.
The sound of sirens rang in the distance. Mortals would be
here shortly. Gannon hoped Gabriel would be quick with his interrogation. They
needed to torch the place and split.
Gannon stepped into the office and closed the door. Gabriel
towered over Pavlo, who was now bleeding like a sieve. Gabriel pulled the
daggers free, wiped the blood on the guard’s shirt before returning the blades
to their sheaths, which were strapped to his forearms and hidden by the sleeves
of his tailored black jacket. With gentle fingers, Gabriel drew a photo from
his inside, breast pocket. A chill raced down Gannon’s spine. The woman’s image
had triggered Gabriel’s savage, relentless rampage and decision to destroy
Boras.
He shoved the image in Pavlo’s face. “This female, where is
she?”
No answer.
Gabriel pressed his boot into one of the vampire’s mangled
shoulders. “I know she was here.”
Gannon frowned. What made Gabriel believe the woman had been
here? There hadn’t been an empty cell when they freed the mortals and when
questioned, all the slaves had said they hadn’t seen her. Then again, the
guards might not have kept her with the rest of the humans.
He bit back a weary sigh. Gabriel was tipping over the edge
of madness and there was nothing Gannon could do to stop him. So, he would join
him. He didn’t mind. Shit, he’d follow Gabriel into the Devil’s domain, no
questions asked.
Gabriel had been infatuated with Jordan Culver, the mortal
woman in question, ever since he’d found her photograph at the first slave
warehouse they’d raided. He’d spared no expense to locate her, convinced that
she would be Boras’ next victim. Gabriel wanted to protect her and save her
from the torment that no doubt awaited her if she fell into their enemy’s hands,
but Boras’ men had gotten to her first.
After her abduction, Gabriel snapped. Over the past four
months, they’d raided half a dozen slave warehouses, burned nearly every one of
Boras’ clubs and attacked the depraved vampire’s allies, dismantling all of
their businesses, claiming their territory. Still, they discovered no new
information.
“Where is she?” Gabriel commanded.
Pavlo’s voice was a harsh hiss, “Fuck you.”
Gannon rolled his eyes as Gabriel slammed his foot down on the
guard’s shoulder again. Pavlo yelped in agony.
“Where is she?” Gabriel
roared.
The weaker vampire’s head lolled back. “She was m-moved,” he croaked,
choking on blood.
Gannon’s heart jumped with a twinge of hope. He was as
desperate as Gabriel to find the woman, but for an entirely different reason.
Gabriel wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted the human female. No. Wanted
wasn’t a strong enough word. Gabriel craved her. Never had he seen his boss so
twisted up over a woman. And there was the little fact that Gabriel had endured
the torment to become a Chieftain so that he would have the power and authority
to shut down the mortal slave trade for good, a move that ignited a war amongst
the Outcast Society.
Gannon took a step forward. “When and to where?”
More blood dripped from Pavlo’s lips as he laughed and shook
his head.
“Talk!” Gabriel demanded.
The vampire didn’t answer, earning him a vicious left hook.
Gannon’s fingers twitched for his gun. He wanted to plant a
bullet between the bastard’s eyes, but they had to rescue the female. “Share or
die. Where is she?”
The guard laughed, spitting blood. “You’ll never find her.”
Then the corners of his mouth lifted with a taunting smile. Gannon whispered a
curse and stepped back.
“Wrong answer,” Gabriel rasped past his fangs as a blade
dropped from its sheath into his palm. With an effortless swipe, he decapitated
the commanding officer. Blood spouted like a fountain, and Gannon took another
step back. He inwardly groaned. Oh, shit.
She was
here and they’ve taken her from me!
Rage.
It sank into Gabriel’s bones, invaded his heart, and
threatened to obliterate what remained of his soul. The sensation was nothing
new. It had been his constant companion of late, drawing his demon to the
surface. Fury heated his blood and honed his vision, turning his crystal green
eyes obsidian. Red flames sparked within his gaze; his lethal fangs glinted in
the darkness. Demonic shadows sharpened the harsh lines of his face.
This was to be a routine raid: infiltrate, rescue the humans,
kill the guards, and demolish the building. He hadn’t intended to fight, but as
he helped the human’s into the van, Gabriel had caught Jordan’s soft jasmine
scent on the breeze. The light fragrance whispered to him, summoned the
darkness within him. His demon uncontrollable, Gabriel drew his daggers and charged
into battle. Slicing through his enemies with cold, calculating precision,
consumed with the need to find her, free her. To have her.
Gabriel stroked the pad of his leather covered thumb over
her photo before he tucked it safely away, restoring the image to its resting
place over his heart. The delicate paper settled and pressed against his slave
brand, the sensation intensifying his anger.
Gannon’s shoulders quaked with an exasperated sigh, “Pavlo
must’ve been lying.”
Normally, Gabriel would agree but—he took in a deep breath—he
could smell her. The scent was faint, but he knew she’d been here, in this very
room, locked away. Kept from the general population.
Like he had been.
As a mortal man,
the Madame had feared exposing him to other humans that possibly carried
disease, worried that he may develop attachments to others, finding loyalty,
developing relationships and hope.
Alone. He’d always been alone. Until the Madame came to
him…until she changed him…until humans had been brought to him…locked in the
cell with him…
Gabriel’s fury erupted, the memories fueling his rage. He
lashed out. Wooden desks and chairs disintegrated as they collided with the cinder
block wall. Shreds of paper cascaded through the air like confetti as he tore
apart filing cabinets. Finally, with nothing more to destroy, Gabriel unleashed
an unholy roar, shattering the windows. Glass exploded, shards shot out like
shrapnel. Pieces landed on the tips of Gannon’s boots and tore at Gabriel’s
jacket.
Gannon remained silent and unmoving.
Smart.
Gabriel’s wide shoulders shook as he
struggled to suck in calming breaths. Air hissed past his fangs. Closing his
eyes, he focused on the soothing sounds of the night and the ocean. Waves
softly broke against the rocks below the windows. The salted air mixed with the
sweet scent of jasmine, burning his heaving lungs. Oh, how he loved it. The
darkness within him cherished the torment her scent inflicted upon him.
“God damn it!” Gabriel rasped. He
was going mad.
Gannon muttered a tired curse of his
own. “We’ve had our eye on this place for days. If the girl had been here, we’d
have known.”
“Her scent,” Gabriel whispered, briefly closing his eyes as
he inhaled her soft fragrance again. “It is light, but I’ve no doubt she was
here.” He could feel it in his bones.
“The men are collecting the security tapes as
we speak, but…Shit, man.” Gannon rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropped
to the floor. “We’ve been searching for the girl for months and nothing has
turned up. I hate to say this, but don’t you think it’s time you let her go?”
Gabriel scoffed. Did Gannon really
think he hadn’t tried to forget about the mortal female? He hated how she
plagued his thoughts, ignited his need, his hunger, his rage. She was a rare
beauty, tempting beyond imagination, but obsessing over her was insanity at its
finest. As the days had turned into weeks and weeks became months, he knew only
by divine grace would he find her alive. He’d prayed to any deity that would
listen to grant her a quick, painless death. And despite how futile it was,
every raid, every attack on Boras’ territory, every reconnaissance mission, he
allowed himself to hope, like a dumb bastard, that they’d find her. That he
would be able to take her in his arms and release her from the hell she
endured. Yet, every attempt produced empty results and the guilt had devoured
him, the sorrow haunted him, and self-loathing
settled even more deeply into his soul.
He’d failed to protect her, just as he’d failed his tribe and wife all
those centuries ago.
But Jordan is alive. She was here.
His hand flattened over his chest,
his palm pressing against Jordan’s photo.
Gannon lifted his gaze, paused on
Gabriel’s hand, and then met his king’s harsh stare. “I want to find the girl
too, but we’ve been chasing a ghost. You’ve tried harder and much longer than
anyone else ever would. There’s only so much you can do.”
“She resided on my territory,
Gannon. She was one of my subjects. Boras had no right to enter my domain
without permission let alone take what belongs to me,” Gabriel harshly explained.
The Outcast Society didn’t adhere to
vampire law set forth by the Clans, but they did live by a straight code and
Boras’ transgression demanded war.
Raiding the waterfront had been a
tactical move, another nail in his enemy’s coffin. The boathouse had been a
waystation for Boras’ slave trade, a place to hold his inventory until he could
arrange an auction. The vampire relied on his sales to fund his businesses and
support his meager army. Gabriel was systematically destroying him by freeing
his slaves, burning every club and property Boras owned. Even the twisted
vampire’s allies were abandoning him. Defecting, they came to Gabriel. Some
pledged their never ending loyalty to the first Chieftain of the Outcast
Society while others begged him for mercy. He had none.
“I understand. His blatant disregard
for the code and disrespect for your territory must be dealt with.” Gannon took
a deep breath as if summoning the courage to proceed. “I also understand the
need to end the slave trade, but, fuck, you’ve started a new Clan and a war.”
“I did what was necessary.”
The Outcasts Society needed to be
united. They needed order, law, and protection from cruel, corrupted vampires
such as Boras, who would use them, and the Red Order witches that would hunt
them to extinction. Gabriel knew creating a Clan and becoming King was the only
way to gain enough power, authority, respect, and support to accomplish his
goals: destroy Boras and his like, outlaw human slavery, unite, bring peace and
honor to the Outcasts. He’d do all within his power to elevate the Tapfer Clan
to the level of the old Clans.
“Ever since you found her picture in
that empty cell, you’ve been infatuated with her,” Gannon continued. “Hell, you
purchased a record label after you learned she was a gifted singer and even
flew to Denver yourself to sign her.”
Gabriel’s anger kindled and he
snapped, “Say it, Gannon.” He knew where this conversation was headed. Gannon
had remained silent for far too long regarding his obsession with the girl.
Gannon released a
string of curses. He scrubbed his face with his hands then met Gabriel’s gaze
once more. “I’m
worried about you, man. It’s as if she has you under some kind of spell. You’ve
been miserable and I can’t stand watching you torment yourself over her.”
“And?” Gabriel
insisted when Gannon fell abruptly silent.
Gannon sighed. “In
the 150 plus years I’ve known you you’ve hated humans.”
Gabriel’s hands
curled into fists at his sides. Yes, it was no secret he loathed mortals. They
were selfish, greedy, petty, weak creatures. Torturing himself over an
insignificant human was beneath him, it didn’t make sense. They were fleeting
beings, never worth developing an attachment to. He’d spent too much time,
energy, and man power hunting her. Why? He didn’t know her. He owed her
nothing. She was just like any other nameless mortal.
Focusing on
his mission—destroying his enemies—was paramount. Running Boras to ground,
uniting and strengthening the Outcasts and building his Clan had to come first.
Even if he did find
Jordan, there was no telling what condition she’d be in. Humans were fragile and
Jordan was small, delicate. He’d seen countless mortals like her who’d been
taken from the realm of light and imprisoned in the darkness. Beautiful females
were repeatedly raped and bled to the point of death until their souls perished,
leaving them hollow vessels—a twisted vampire’s favorite play thing. Jordan’s
fate would be no different, unless he found her.
Mine, the vampire within him snarled.
His demon side had
never craved a specific female. Hell, it couldn’t care less if he ever took a
woman to his bed. It existed only for blood and death. But it wanted her.
Gabriel shook his
head, confused by the driving, desperate need to hold her. To lose himself in
her bright violet eyes. To be entranced by her angelic voice and hypnotized by
her dance. To feel her. To possess her. Claim her.
He massaged his
temples, a pathetic attempt at trying to ease some of the tension that coiled
within him.
For fuck’s sake.
Gabriel didn’t know
how to respond to Gannon. He knew he couldn’t leave her to her fate and he
loathed to acknowledge her situation was alarmingly similar to his own. But,
she was mortal, and he cared nothing for their ilk. He used them, taking
advantage of their repulsive nature. From around the globe they flocked to his
city, Las Vegas, where he preyed on their sins. None were innocent,
but…Jordan’s vibrant eyes had been honest, her words true, and despite her
past, she was kindhearted. Someone like her didn’t stand a chance in the slave
trade.
Gabriel
imagined Jordan locked in a cell, shackles cutting into her delicate flesh, her
battered body trembling. He cringed thinking of her chained naked to a male’s
bed. Her beautiful face streaked with tears, her limbs covered with dark
bruises from greedy hands. Her neck and wrists gnawed raw by jagged fangs. He
knew her cries of pain would be ignored and her pleas for mercy would be
mocked. After four months, there was likely nothing
left of her.
Gabriel silently
begged the Graces yet again for Jordan to be a fighter. Only a warrior could
survive such torment.
You’ll never find
her. Pavlo’s words
drifted through his thoughts.
Gabriel cursed. “I
need to do this.”
Gannon nodded and
Gabriel was relieved his friend accepted his answer. He couldn’t explain, there
were no words that could describe the unbearable ache that constricted his
chest and heated his blood every time he thought of her.
“We should head
out,” Gannon suggested after a long silence.
Dawn was quickly
approaching. Gabriel should be pleased their raid had been successful. They’d
dealt Boras yet another blow, but the victory was hollow.
“Come on, man, we
need to get out of here. The mortals are getting too close for comfort,” Gannon
stressed, referencing the sirens that were drawing near.
Gabriel nodded and
turned toward the exit. The instant his frame moved from the moonlight, the
room brightened. Pavlo’s blood gleamed beneath the shimmering rays, the pool of
crimson soaking the discarded papers. A single, plain post card caught his
attention. Something
tugged at the edge of his memory, drawing him forward. Gabriel knelt, brushed
aside slivers of wood and glass shards to grab the card. Despite being removed
from the blood, the stain continued to spread, revealing elegantly scrolled
letters.
Gabriel’s heart
slammed to a stop, the air in his lungs painfully punched out as his brain
struggled to process what he’d found. Stunned, he traced the numbers and words
with trembling fingers. He hadn’t seen an invitation like this since his time
spent as a slave. It was an ancient trick to conceal messages, a paper specially
treated to share its secrets only when smeared with vampire blood.
“Find something
good?” Gannon asked.
Gabriel stood
motionless. The Graces had finally shone their light of fortune upon him.
Unbelievable. He shuddered. He had been about to leave and
burn the boathouse to the ground. God, the thought twisted his gut. This card
was the key to finding her and he’d almost destroyed it. He’d almost lost
Jordan forever.
Gabriel turned the
card in his hand to show Gannon the slowly fading words as the blood began to
disappear.
Gannon frowned.
“What the hell is that?”
The corners of
Gabriel’s lips slowly lifted into a smile. “An invitation.” He tucked the once
again blank, pristine white card into his pocket with Jordan’s photo.
“An invite?” Gannon
arched a brow and chuckled, “Our presence has been formally requested?”
“Night after next,
Boras’ head Slave Handler, Ross Klein, will be holding an auction on Mukwa
territory where, and I quote, ‘an exotic, burgundy haired beauty with striking
eyes will be the featured prize.’ What do you think,” Gabriel cracked his
leather-clad knuckles, “should we crash their party?”
Gannon chuckled
again. “I think we must. After all, we were invited and it would be rude not to
attend.”
“My thoughts
exactly,” Gabriel agreed as he removed the dagger strapped to his thigh.
Pressing a hidden button with his thumb, a pen sized bomb ejected from the
blade’s hilt. Gabriel tossed it to the corner of the office then replaced the
dagger. “Time to go.”
Gannon followed his
king; together they joined the soldiers and climbed into the awaiting blacked
out SUVs.
Gabriel nodded at
his explosives expert. Instantly, the building fell. Wood planks shot out in
every direction. Destroyed. The boom obliterating the stillness of the waterfront.
A dangerous calm
settled over him as they drove away, leaving the former slave house engulfed in
flames. The invitation had revealed much more than just a time, date and
location for the next slave auction. It exposed Boras’ secret. The card was the
vampire’s death certificate.
Destroy, the demon gleefully hissed.
Yes, Gabriel would
take tremendous pleasure in destroying his enemy and all of his allies.
He absently brushed
his hand over his chest, his fingers skipping past the slave brand on his left
pectoral before tracing the outline of the invitation and the edge of Jordan’s
photo.
He’d have her. In
forty-eight hours, she’d be his. Gabriel’s eyes darkened, and the tips of his
fangs sharpened; excited anticipation charged his body.
The vampire within
him growled low, Mine.
In this installment we feel the pain of both the
hero and heroine. Both are survivors of slavery. Our vampire hero was a
blood slave thousands of years ago and our heroine is currently being
held captive by an enemy faction. For the first part of the book we are
taken on the hunt as Gabriel seeks to free Jordan. Once Jordan is freed
the real falling in love happens. Gabriel has to come to grips with the
knowledge that there is someone for him to love.
