Dark Desire (23 page)

“Yes, are you
hurt?
Godsdamn
,
Lari
, I
thought I lost you. I thought … you dead.” His throat closed up as emotions
swamped him. If she died he knew he would follow. No way could he live without
this woman in his life. Instead of scaring the hell out of him the thought
brought a certain comfort. Here, surrounded by so much death, he found
salvation. His gaze caught hers in an unwavering stare. “I love you,
Laris
. You are my life,” he confessed.

Grey eyes
softened to the color of morning mist, her love for him shining through like a
ray of bright sunshine warming his soul as nothing before could. “I love you,
too, and I’m fine, honest.”

His heart nearly
burst from his chest as she spoke those three words he’d never thought he would
be so relieved to hear. His smile trembled, he knew, but the turmoil of his
emotions would not calm.

He felt her warm
palm on his bicep as she gave him a soft reassuring squeeze before she
continued. “I dove low preparing to hamstring him like you told me to, but
somehow he knew what I was doing and shifted just enough for my dagger to slice
only air. I barely had time to raise the dagger when he leapt on me. He impaled
himself on my blade, straight through the heart. Dumb luck, huh?” She gave him
a wobbly smile.

“If you two
lovebirds are through confessing your undying love, a little help here would be
great,” Tegan shouted over the sounds of battle.

Zeke swung
toward the sound unable to comprehend what he was seeing. A gasp of shock
escaped
Laris’s
lips as he registered Christophe in a
deadly fight with Cody. Or what used to be the easygoing Cajun with a smart mouth.
His red-eyed gaze glinted with blood lust, fangs dripping green venom as he
tried to rake his clawed nails across Christophe’s throat. He danced out of
harm’s way, a look of fierce concentration on his face.

“Get your ass
over here. I need backup now!” Tegan took up a defensive posture in an attempt
to keep any other
ferals
from interfering with the
two facing off.

Zeke grabbed
Laris’s
hand, pulling her forward as he took up a position
next to Tegan. Crouching low Zeke scooped up a discarded sword, and rising he
handed it to her.

She took the
blade and tested its balance nodding. “This will work.”

“Don’t let any
feral vamps scratch you. They hold a paralyzing toxin in their nails and
fangs.”

“Nice
to know.
Anything else I may need
intel
on?” she retorted
dryly.

Zeke shrugged.
“Don’t get bitten by a
Were
. You
know,
the usual.”

“Yeah,
the usual.
Got it.
Don’t get scratched or bitten.
Piece of cake.”
She gave a very unladylike snort.

He would have
given her a snappy retort, drawing out the sweet lilting sound of her laughter
to take the edge off the devastating destruction and bloodshed surrounding
them. He would have done a thousand things, but unfortunately, the advancing
ferals
had other plans.

All his focus
centered on keeping his woman and friends alive. Nothing else mattered but
survival.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Laris
tried to
swallow past her dry throat. Fear beat in time with her pulse, filling her ears
with a dull roar as she watched death surround their small group. Never in her
life had she felt so ill-equipped for the battle at hand. Raising her sword,
she spread her
feet,
knees bent at the ready, and
faced the oncoming threat. Amongst the line of
ferals
she saw a flash of steel, and screams echoed as
ferals
dropped from the advancing line. Hope stirred in her breast as she caught a
glimpse of Ryes brandishing his bastard sword, sweeping a wide arc of
destruction in his wake.
Navar
fought on one side
with Lucien and Temple on the other.

Filled with a
burning fire of purpose,
Laris
met the incoming wave
of attackers, all the while aware of the battle between Christophe and Cody
raging behind her. She flicked her wrist in a quick forward parry, feeling the
blade cut into flesh, muscle, and bone but refusing to think beyond the next
feral in her sight. Only focusing on surviving one more moment, she moved in a
deadly dance, her feet placing her body in front of the
ferals
trying to push past to get to Cody. Her breath turned harsh as her arms burned
with the weight of the weapon, dancing in for a kill and ducking under a
swiping claw.

A sword flashed
to her left, far too close for comfort, and she turned to engage, only to find
Ja’mel
at her side guarding her flank where needed. He
flashed
her a
grin as he plunged his blade through a
Were’s
heart.

“I’m impressed.
You have remembered your training. I didn’t think you would.”

Laris
did a mental
eye-roll. “If you even
think
of
calling me ‘young grasshopper’ like in that kung fu series on TV, I’ll run you
through, I swear. Just because I prefer words to swords doesn’t mean I don’t
know my way around weapons. Besides, I had the best teacher anyone could ask
for, brother mine.”

“You still watch
far too much television. And I had a talented pupil. Too bad you chose
diplomacy for your calling. I could use someone with your skill.” He sighed
with mock regret.

“I’m sure you
will get over it. To your right, three o’clock and coming in fast,” she warned,
deflecting a swipe of claws at her chest with a sharp downward cut of her
blade. The impact jarred her from wrist to shoulder, but resolutely she kept
her grip as she arched the blade up with a grunt of effort, gutting a
Were
before sinking the tip under his ribcage and to the
heart beneath.

Risking a quick
glance at Zeke, she marveled at his skill with his
sais
as his fingers became a blur of constant, flowing movement. His
sais
cut through the air with a soft whine. Pivoting on his
left heel he whipped into a turn,
sais
cutting a path
across the torso of an advancing vampire on the first rotation, taking his head
on the second. The poor bastard didn’t know what hit him, the look of surprise
still evident in the wide glazed eyes as the head rolled to a stop at her feet.

Yuck.
Her stomach threatened to rebel, and
she yanked her gaze up in time to see Ryes, bloody and breathing hard, closing
the distance between them. The rest of the Enforcers formed a tight circle,
each protecting the other’s back.
Laris
felt a wave a
relief to see the others relatively unharmed.

Taking a quick
look around,
Laris
was surprised to see the advancing
line of
ferals
diminished to just a handful. Taking a
long shuddering breath, she ignored the muscles in her neck and arms
protesting. The sound of fists hitting flesh followed by a grunt of pain pulled
her attention toward Christophe, who held Cody tightly, his arm pressing
tightly against his friend’s throat and a look of grim determination lining the
Enforcer’s dark handsome face.

“I’m not your
fucking enemy, Cody. Will you just relax?”

“K…
kill
. Me,” Cody gasped out, his voice thread thin with lack
of air.

“Not going to
happen, my friend.” Christophe hissed through his teeth and tightened his arm
even more against Cody’s throat.

Laris
watched with a
sense of deep sadness as the man struggled against Christophe’s inexorable
hold. It would be more humane to kill the feral vampire, but the bond between
sire and a newly turned vampire was not to something to be tampered with. So
she kept her mouth shut and played silent witness as Cody’s struggles weakened.
In seconds his body went lax, and Christophe gently laid his unconscious friend
on the ground. Tegan pulled his belt out from the loops of his jeans, handing
it to Christophe, who took it gratefully. Rolling Cody onto his stomach he made
quick work, lashing his wrists tight with the belt.

It dawned on her
in with a jolt of awareness that the deafening sounds of battle eased to
muffled groans and whimpers. Scanning the room, she looked for any impending
threat and found none. A dozen humans, reporters and cops, she surmised from
the uniforms and press badges, hobbled toward the Enforcers. Survivors, yes,
but far too many showed deep bite wounds. Some, if they survived, would never
be able to go back to the life they once had. They would all have their hands
full if these survivors lived through the transformation to
Were
.
Temple smoothly took charge of the surviving humans with soothing ease. Perhaps
there was more to the Pure Blood than what met the eye.

The dozen or so
surviving
ferals
were being bound tightly by
handcuffs, belts, anything the Enforcers could find. She gasped as her gaze
collided
with a pair cold black eyes
. The elf she’d
witnessed so dispassionately kill the poor reporter lifted a dark brow in
challenge as his hands were pulled roughly behind his back and bound by Ryes.
The giant bent to say something in the elf’s ear, and whatever he said wasn’t
pleasant by the anger tightening his lips into a thin line. Yanking her gaze
away
Laris
caught Zeke’s eye, his concern glinting in
the green and gold depths.

She gave him a
weak smile, amazed they lived through the battle, opening her mouth to assure
him she was fine. Before the words could form the double doors exploded. She
ducked, placing her arms protectively over her head against flying projectiles
of splintered wood. Her forearms stung as splinters embedded into her flesh.
She hissed in a breath against the pain and rose, looking for Zeke and the
other Enforcers.

Her relief at
seeing them none the worse for wear diminished before it could fully form as
the room filled with armored cops, rifles trained on them. Horror at the
carnage from the battle echoed in each of their faces, and accusing eyes
watched them warily for any sudden movement.

A thick blanket
of tension filled the air building to a deadly level between them and the armed
cops. It would take very little for this little stand off to turn into a mass
execution.
Laris
wanted to scream or cry at the pure
irony of it. They may have won one battle, but lost the war. Amari had played
her hand like a master. No matter what the outcome, she knew they would lose
one way or the other.

“Stand down
now!”

The voice echoed
off the walls, all male and full of command. The cops looked at one another,
obviously not finding merit in the order, but slowly complied, lowering their
assault rifles just enough to point to the floor.

“What by all
that’s holy happened here?” A man moved from the same hallway the Enforcers
used. Tall at six-foot-two, his face was all sharp angles and hollows with a
long straight nose. Short cut ebony hair showed silver at the temples, and he
looked fit and intimidating.
A warrior who commanded
attention.

Marcus,
Tambra
, Mari, Leola, and Kyra came into view behind the
man, their expressions a mixture of anger and frustration. The tight look on
Marcus’s face echoed what she already knew. They’d failed to contain the
threat.

Miserably.

It would take a
miracle for them to restore even a degree of goodwill now. There would be no
coming back from this. No common ground for them to stand on with humanity.
Hell, they would be lucky if they weren’t declared a danger to all mankind, to
be hunted down and killed with extreme prejudice. Her stomach twisted in on
itself at the thought, dread squeezing against her ribs making breathing
difficult.

She felt a warm
firm hand grip hers and looked into his beautiful eyes filled with compassion
and regret. Anger flickered to life in her gut, flaring into a wildfire. Damn
Amari for the treacherous beast she was. This bloodshed was her doing, and for
some reason
Laris
felt the responsibility to try to salvage
as much of the situation she could. Squaring her shoulders she moved toward the
tall man who was obviously in charge. “Allow me to answer your questions,” she
called out.

All heads turned
her way, but she tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the man before her,
yet grateful to know Zeke stood with her a calming presence she could draw
strength from. With a deep breath she stood a bit straighter as she met the
tall man’s hostile gaze.

“With
your permission, Marcus.”

The look of
relief he gave her would have made her smile in normal circumstances, but there
was nothing normal about this.

“How the hell
can you explain …
this
?” the man
barked, his arm shooting out to indicate the slaughter which surrounded them.

She needed to
work fast with this man. An idea formed, and she went on instinct born from
many years dealing with prickly diplomats. She stopped in front of him, never
dropping eye contact.
“A very strategic move to discredit our
kind and make you fearful of us.
And it would have worked if we didn’t
live in such an enlightened age.”