Chapter 8
Nick grabbed Simone and Tori by the hands, propelling both women toward the wall. “Jump and run,” he ordered, gratified when they both launched themselves into motion.
A ball of plasma smashed him square in the back, and pain exploded down his spine. The force threw him over the wall, and he flew face-first into an ancient headstone. Agony burst in his forehead. The stone cracked down the middle, and he kept going, rolling over wet grass. His vision clouded.
His back smacked a tree trunk, and his body folded.
Holy fucking damn it.
Roaring, he stood, turning to face the melee.
Simone and Moira had taken shelter on his side of the rock wall and were hurling fireball after fireball at the eight motorcycle riders. The men had created some sort of plasma shield and were advancing while throwing their own plasma. Their different-colored fire hit another shield hard and then spread. Brenna stood behind the other two, her eyes closed, her hands up.
She must’ve created and now was controlling their shield. Impressive.
Bear lay over to the side, out cold, his hair smoldering. The human female hunched over him, frantically patting out the fire. Nick hustled over to lean down and feel Bear’s pulse. Strong and steady.
“He jumped in front of, ah, fire for me.” Tori slapped flames off of Bear’s stomach. “I don’t understand.” Her widened eyes took in the scene. “They’re making and throwing fire. Real fire. I really don’t understand,” she repeated.
Nick winced. He had to get Simone out of there.
The shield wavered, and a plasma ball hit Simone in the stomach. She doubled over with a pained
oof
.
That easily, that quickly, Nicholai Veis lost it. His hands went up, his chin went down, and he strode forward while aiming a devastating blast of mental pain toward the male witches, watching his team through his peripheral vision.
Moira yelped and tackled Brenna out of the way. Simone slowly turned and straightened her body, still holding her abdomen.
The men’s shield shattered with an audible blast. The closest man screamed and grabbed his head with both hands, still holding plasma. His own fire bit into his flesh, and he screamed louder.
Nick spread out his attack, basically slicing right down the centers of their brains. He kept an eye on everyone around him, but his internal focus was on the enemy.
“Are you seeing this?” Moira hissed.
“Yes,” Brenna murmured. “It’s incredible.”
Simone moved to the side and out of his way.
Bear growled to the left, and there was a rustling of pine needles. “Status,” he barked.
Another two attackers dropped to the ground, one silent, the other keening.
An SUV rounded the far corner down the street on two wheels. Shit. Backup.
“I’ll finish with Nick,” Simone said urgently. “Moira, get Brenna, Bear, and Tori to a safe house. We’ll be in touch.”
“My job is to protect you,” Moira protested, hauling Bear to his feet.
Simone pushed her toward the headstones. “Nick and I will be fine. Brenna is pregnant, and Tori is human. Go.”
Moira grimaced but nodded. “Fine, but you call the second you can. We can’t go to the penthouse.”
“No. Run, now.”
“Human?” Tori said weakly, turning as Moira grabbed her arm and started running. “You’re
not
human?”
Nick kept his attack strong, and the remaining four men dropped into unconsciousness in a natural attempt to salvage their brains. The SUV careened closer, and another one came into view.
His hands shook, and something wet came out of his ears. Blood. He was bleeding. Attacking minds held risk.
Simone grabbed his arm. “Nick. We have to run.”
She was right. His knees weakened.
Sucking deep, he released the attack just as the SUV roared to a stop. Turning, he grabbed Simone’s hand. “Run, baby.” Trying to keep his vision somewhat clear, he allowed her to lead the way through the headstones. “Go north,” he whispered tersely.
Her steps hesitated, but she turned to the left and cut a path between the dead.
The slam of car doors and somebody barking orders filled the silence behind them. Thunder rolled high above, and lightning flashed down, illuminating grave markers. The rain increased in force. He kept his chin down and his senses tuned in to the men chasing them. There were at least six, and they moved well, spreading out to blanket the cemetery.
He’d told Simone to head north because the men had angled more to the south, but now they advanced quickly. What he wouldn’t give for the ability to teleport. Just once, to get Simone out of danger.
The graves turned to large tombs and overgrown trees.
She released his hand to yank open the door to a dilapidated tomb.
He clasped her arm to keep going. “We’ll be trapped.”
“Trust me.” She struggled but managed to pull it open. “Come on.”
He followed her inside, trying not to step on the colored concrete over the two graves, and turned to shut the door. “Simone, this is a mistake. If they find us—”
She moved a bunch of angels on the far wall into a different configuration, and the floor beyond the graves opened. “Hurry.” She ran down steps into the darkness.
He hustled after her, quickly descending until his feet hit dirt. She pushed a lever, and the opening closed. Darkness enfolded them.
“Just a second,” she whispered, fumbling around. A flashlight lit up. “Are you all right?”
He shoved wet hair off his forehead and nodded. “I am. The attack weakened me, but I’m regaining strength.” He kept his voice soft. “Where are we?”
“Escape route,” she whispered back.
He stilled. “If it’s a Coven Nine escape route, they may know of it.”
“’Tisn’t.” Her skirts brushed the dirt up as she turned to lead the way. “This is one of my family’s routes. We’ve had members on the Council since the beginning of time.”
For once, he appreciated the witches and their love of secrecy and drama. “Where does it lead?”
“It leads several different places, but I know of a safe one for the night. We can regroup there and figure out what to do next.” Her voice came back hushed as she hustled down the tunnel, ignoring several forks until finally turning down one.
“Who were the attackers?” he asked, his senses tuned in for any noise or scent that didn’t belong.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t the Guard, obviously. It doesn’t make sense that rogue witches would attack me, so maybe it had something to do with you? Or maybe Moira?”
Nick rubbed his chin. “I didn’t see the beginning of the fight, but it looked like Bear was a target. They hit him right in the head.”
“Perhaps. He did say somebody in Ireland was gunning for him.” Simone turned another corner and walked several yards into a dead end.
Nick paused. “You took a wrong turn?”
She patted the stone wall in a series of taps, and it began to glow. “No.”
Slowly, the wall parted, revealing a studio apartment of sorts. They walked into a cozy living room complete with leather furniture, next to a utilitarian kitchen. Simone pointed to a doorway off to the right. “The loo is through there. Last I checked, ’twas functional.” Now that she was home, apparently her accent was deepening.
He loved that accent. His gaze was caught by a loft beyond the sofas and round table. Five steps led up to the area, and a wide bed took up the entire platform. A plush midnight-blue throw covered the massive bed. His body tightened, and his pulse quickened. “So. What now?” he asked.
Simone gathered her wet skirts, reaching for a basket atop the counter that held several burner cell phones. She grabbed one and dialed, relief bursting from her when Moira answered.
“Are you safe?” Simone asked.
“Aye. We ran west, and the Guard picked us up, having heard the commotion. I believe several of the rogue witches who attacked us are now in custody, but I’ve heard they’re not talking. Are you safe?”
“Yes.” Simone wiped rain off her face. “We’re in the blue room.” Her cousin would know her exact location, but on the unlikely chance anybody had tuned in to the call, they wouldn’t have a clue where she’d taken Nick.
Moira breathed out. “Okay, good. That’s good. Stay low for a few hours, until we make sure the locale is safe.”
Simone nodded, her adrenaline still flowing. “I understand.” Some of the attackers might still be searching the cemetery. “The Guard is on the issue?”
“Aye. We’ll have all of the attackers in custody by morning.” Moira cleared her throat. “Bear is furious his hair was burnt. The man is rather vain.”
Simone winced. “It appeared that the attackers were aiming for Bear and not for me.”
“I’m not sure. It seemed as if they wanted to take all of us out.”
“No. Bear has mentioned other enemies, but he won’t tell me who they are. See if you can get the truth from him.” Were there rogue shifters in the area after Bear? If so, why wouldn’t he ask for help? Even as the thought crossed her mind, Simone mentally shook herself. Bear would never ask for help. “Tell Bear to stop being a dick.”
Moira snorted. “I’ll tell him, but he’s looking rather pissed off right now.”
“How is Brenna?” Simone kicked mud from her heels.
“She’s fine, but Tori is seriously freaked out.”
Simone caught her breath. “Does the Guard know she saw us fight?”
Quiet ticked by for a moment. “I’m not sure they’ve put it together, and we’re being deliberately vague. Hopefully we’ll get her back to the States without mishap.”
Oh God. Simone exhaled slowly. If the Guard knew Tori had seen them use powers, then she’d be in definite danger. No human could know about the immortals. “We have to protect her.”
“Aye. We will. Destroy the burner phone, and call again tomorrow morning. I’ll have a plan then.” Moira clicked off.
Simone swallowed and dropped the phone, stomping it into several pieces. Finally, she turned to face Nicholai. He leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed, his hair damp. Scruff lined his strong jaw, and a purple bruise marred his right cheekbone. His tie was gone, his dark shirt was in tatters, and his pants were covered in mud. Even so, a tension spiraled from the demon. “We, ah, just have to lie low for a few hours until the cemetery is cleared,” she murmured.
He didn’t move.
Her hands fluttered together. “I’m sorry to get you all mixed up in this mess.”
“Come here, Simone.”
She blinked. Heat slid through her like a fine wine. That voice. Sometimes, late at night, she remembered that rough voice. Panic competed with the heat, and she spun around to open a cupboard. “I’m freezing.” That’s why her voice shook. Aye. She was cold. Regaining her composure, she drew out two glasses and a bottle of decades-old whiskey. Splashing plenty into the glasses, she took one and held it out to Nick.
He crossed the room and accepted the glass. “
Slainte.
”
“
Slainte
,” she returned,
clink
ing her glass with his. Tipping back her head, she shot the entire glass. Fire exploded down her throat and into her stomach, billowing out to warm her limbs. “Better.”
“Yes.” He refilled their glasses and
clank
ed again.
She tossed back the whiskey. Instead of calming her, as she’d hoped, the alcohol increased her awareness through a heated haze. The demon studied her, his gaze direct and knowing. Her damp clothes suddenly felt restrictive and much too tight.
“You’re wet, Simone.”
She jerked and then realized he was talking about her hair. Her hand trembled when she brushed the mass away from her face. “I’ll dry.”
His lip quirked. “Want help?”
Her system went into overdrive, and she sought any bit of normalcy. A low chuckle escaped her, and she gestured around at the intimate apartment. “This is convenient.”
“There isn’t a damn thing about you that’s convenient.” He reached out and ran his knuckle down her cheek.
The touch was gentle and reverent, but an uncoiled tension filled the air around them. She cleared her throat. “Did you mean what you said? That you never thought we were over?”
“Yes.” His exploration continued down her neck and across her upper chest, that dark gaze following the path of his fingers. “My mission this last century was dangerous, and I figured I didn’t have much chance of surviving, even if I succeeded in changing the demon leadership. Letting you go made sense at the time. Now I find out I killed your father. I am sorry for that, Simone.”
“You killed him to save me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t know him, and those brief moments with him were enough to realize I didn’t want to.” The first time they met, the bastard had shot her.
“Aye,” Nick said.
Emotions, raw and real, ripped through her. Just standing next to Nicholai Veis softened her thighs, hardened her nipples, and created an ache deep inside her only he could satisfy. “My father, like many shifters, was crazy, and you saved me.”
Nick tucked two fingers in the neckline of her top and drew her forward. “Then you owe me.” He lips met hers, gentle and seeking, all heated power.
She moaned and stepped into him, tilting her head, taking him in. He kissed her, and his rough, unshaven chin rasped against her skin in delicious friction. Finally, he released her. “Is this going to happen?”
Her eyelids slowly opened. One night. Just one night to see whether it was as amazing as she remembered in her dreams. She was facing possible prison time, the loss of her powers, or even death. Why not have one great night of mind-blowing sex? She could keep it casual. “Yes, but it’s just physical. I won’t risk anything else with you ever again.” Sometimes honesty could protect a girl.
Triumph and an intimidating arrogance darkened his eyes. He swung her up and turned toward the bed. Then he paused.