Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) (15 page)

At least all the media had left my house. No news vans cluttered my driveway or the street in front of the house. It didn't matter—I would have gone elsewhere if they'd still been there. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be anyone except who I was. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I stalked through the back door and flopped onto a patio chair. My phone was in my hand shortly after, and I sent an angry text to Hank.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckoff
, I tapped before hitting send.

My next text wasn't quite as angry, but it certainly displayed my rebellion.
Bill
, appeared on my screen as I pushed letters on my phone,
I'll be going to KingDom's alone tonight. Tell Hank and Jayson to screw themselves. I don't need them
.

* * *

"What the hell did you do?" Bill wanted to yell at Hank, but he was at FBI headquarters in San Francisco and couldn't.

"Tried to get her to talk. Pushed a little too hard. That's what I did."

"I thought you were taking that trip to calm her down, not send her into harm's way."

"What are you talking about?" Hank's voice betrayed his worry.

"She sent a text telling me she planned to go to KingDom's alone tonight. I've tried to get triangulation on her phone, but it keeps breaking up. I don't know where she is."

"Jayson and I will go in as planned tonight. Have your people ready in case there are problems," Hank terminated the call.

* * *

"Did Gavin arrive safely?" Wlodek asked.

"Yes. He sent an email, telling me he arrived at the safe house," Charles set a folder in front of Wlodek. "These need your signature, Honored One."

"Thank you, Charles. That will be all." Charles turned to go. "If you hear anything else from Gavin, be sure to let me know," Wlodek added.

"I will." Charles walked out of Wlodek's study.

* * *

Lissa's Journal

"I don't know why I feel so unsettled," I rubbed my arms and paced at the foot of my bed. I was dressed in a sleeveless tank and pajama bottoms, but if Winkler had his way, I wouldn't be wearing them for long.

"I might be able to distract you for a while," Winkler lounged on the bed, grinning at me.

"You think you can, huh?" I wrinkled my nose at him.

"I know I can. Come here." My werewolf mate patted the bed beside him. Of course he was naked—werewolves are born without modesty. At least Winkler was.

"Are there any modest werewolves?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Stop teasing me and undress," Winkler's grin widened.

"Stop playing with your dangly bits, it's distracting," I pulled my top over my head.

"Mmmm, boobies," Winkler chuckled appreciatively.

"Are you twelve?" I huffed, shucking my pajama bottoms and stepping out of them.

"I'm a grown werewolf. There's a difference. And these are not dangling at the moment." He cupped himself.

"Everybody's a comedian," I slapped a hand over my eyes.

"Come on. Come to bed." Winkler folded to me, pulled my body against his and ran his hands over my breasts.

"Do you remember when we first met?" I blinked up at him.

"Yeah. You made my junk stiff every time I looked at you."

"Is that all?" I asked innocently.

"Enough of that," his arm went beneath my bottom to lift me against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist.

"This is nice," Winkler nibbled my ear. "How does against a wall sound, instead of the bed?"

"You're driving," I pointed out.

"Yeah. I guess I am. Now, what was it you were worrying about?"

"Nothing." I buried my hands in his hair as he growled against my shoulder.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

Yeah, having a drink in a bar before going into KingDom's probably wasn't a good idea, but I only intended to have one. I'd found a bar across the street from the upscale dungeon, and I was fortifying my courage. At least that's what I kept telling myself.

Probably the best decision I'd made after walking into the bar was choosing a back table so I could watch everybody who came in. Had I ever thought it a possibility? The breath was stolen from my body when the door opened again.

Making sure I kept my shield tight around me, I watched as Gavin Montegue,
the
Gavin Montegue from the past, strolled to the bar and casually placed compulsion on the bartender to answer questions about the deaths of persons active in the BDSM community.

* * *

"Nine-millimeter Beretta. Nice," Hank examined the gun carefully. Bill's Department was arming Hank and Jayson for the evening.

"Be careful, and approach Breanne cautiously if you see her," Bill instructed.

"Yeah. I hear that," Hank nodded before shoving the gun in the waistband of his leather pants. "I'll get her out of there as soon as it's possible, too."

"I've already sent three texts, Bell, begging her to reconsider. If she won't listen to me, I'm not sure she'll listen to you, either."

"If she were human, I'd pull her out of there kicking and screaming if I had to," Jayson muttered before stuffing his borrowed gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"But she's not, and you will do nothing of the kind," Bill barked. "Breanne is fragile, by your own admission, Bell, and you pushed her too hard today, also by your own admission. Whose fault is this?" Hank almost took a step back from Bill's anger. He'd misjudged the man, just as so many others before him had. Bill hadn't achieved his rank by being meek.

"You're right," Hank nodded, his eyes meeting Bill's. "We'll approach cautiously. I'll try to convince her to come to you if things get bad."

"This is a fact-finding mission," Bill growled. "Don't forget that. The guns are for your protection only, not for aggressive acts. Hear me?"

"I hear you," Jayson mumbled.

"Yeah," Hank agreed.

"Then go. Find out what you can. Find Breanne if you can. If you care for her at all, you'll get down on your knees and beg if you have to, to get her back to us."

* * *

"I don't know if I've ever had my ass handed to me like that," Hank muttered as he and Jayson crossed the street to KingDom's.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

Who needs to walk anywhere when you can mist through? Especially when the place in question is filled with little rooms where people are binding, gagging, flogging, piercing, fucking, crawling and kneeling. At least my anger at Hank kept my mind clear and separate from what was happening all around me.

Bill would be shocked, too, to hear that all the employees at KingDom's were obsessed.
Every one of them
. That was more than frightening. A few I read had committed murder. So far, they'd managed to get away with it.

The dungeon monitors on duty were doing little more than observing, even when things seemed to be getting out of hand. Why was that happening? Was there a purpose behind it? Since I couldn't read the obsession—past the recognition that the employees had one, I had no idea.

My mind raced through possibilities, and I discarded them almost as soon as they popped into my brain. That's when I saw them. Hank and Jayson, as promised. Well, they could go fuck themselves.

I hadn't found evidence of a Sirenali, either, so I had no idea where it might be. The only places I hadn't checked were the administrative offices, on the top floor of the three-story building. I misted in that direction.

Should I have suspected it, since all the windows were covered in thick, dark film? Keir Arthur and Oscar Forde were drinking from two women when I found them inside the main office. These women weren't willing participants in the bloodletting, either. Both were visitors to KingDom's, and both had compulsion laid to keep them compliant.

While I hovered overhead, waiting for the vampires to finish their meal and let the women go, the last thing I expected to happen did, and it sent me screaming into action.

Chapter 8
 

Breanne's Journal

Gavin burst into the office as if he knew what was happening inside. With claws and fangs out and a growl I recognized easily, Gavin rounded on Keir Arthur.

"Stand back or they get it," Oscar Forde hissed. Both women were held against his chest with one arm, while the other hand, equipped with long claws, lay across their throats.

That's when I pulled the women away in my mist and flung them toward the door before appearing in front of Oscar, my claws and fangs ready for battle.

"Just handle yours, this one's mine," I hissed at Gavin, who stared at me in shock. No, he didn't recognize me. This Gavin hadn't ever met me. What he did recognize, however, was my scent—I'd dropped my shields when I became corporeal.

At least Gavin quickly focused on Keir again—after Keir punched him in the jaw. That's always an attention-getter.

"Well, well, well, a female vampire," Oscar laughed as he took in my scent. "What do you think you might do against me?"

"Want to find out?" I wiggled my long claws at him. Oscar lunged. I went to mist. He slammed into the wall at my back.

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" Oscar said when I came back to myself. "Do we have a mister, here?" He eyed me speculatively as we squared off again. "I thought it took much longer for a vampire to turn to mist."

Deep-red eyes studied me while Gavin and Keir fought across the room. A lamp broke and the light dimmed while glass sprinkled against opaque windows. I realized I didn't have time to pay attention to Gavin's battle; I had to keep my guard up with Oscar.

"Maybe you're just hallucinating," I said as Keir thumped into a wall. Gavin was efficient when he fought, there was no denying that, and Keir was beginning to show signs of wear. Gavin, on the other hand, appeared almost fresh and untouched, except for the bit of blood on his chin where Keir's ring had clipped him.

"You're just a baby," Oscar tossed a barb my way. "Baby want a bottle?" he laughed. Well, he shouldn't have done that. I misted forward and allowed claws only to form. His head rolled across the floor only a blink later. Quick death, just as Hank said.

If I'd known what killing Oscar would trigger, I might have done things differently. No, I hadn't bothered to read him, and it was a little late for that, now. The administrative offices took up the entire top floor and vampires boiled in from surrounding rooms seconds after Oscar's death. Was I prepared to take on all of them, with only Gavin Montegue as backup? No way.

* * *

"Something's happening," Bill shouted into his cell. "Get the hell out of there!"

"We don't have Breanne." Hank's reply was terse.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

Why does time slow down at critical moments? I saw Gavin go down under a mob of vampires as I went to mist. If Gavin died, so much of the future would change or die with him. Yes, I should have been paying attention, but as someone pointed out to me before; I wasn't the Mighty Mind.

How many deaths would change the future? Who might be targeted? Gavin had become a target—that was obvious. The enemy, just as I suspected, was still alive in some way. Yes, I may have killed his slaves or servants, but he was still out there, determined to destroy what he could.

I couldn't
Change What Was
without making myself a target again. Expending power similar to a Larentii? That seemed to have no negative impact.

Diving into a pile of seething vampires, I pulled a semiconscious Gavin into my mist and flew through the roof. Then, while hovering over the building, I considered what to do next.

I'm sorry, Bill
, I sent, before extending power identical to a Larentii's and filtering the obsessed from those not obsessed. Hank and Jayson, too, I lifted away with the others who held no obsession. After dumping the innocent on the sidewalk across the street, I imploded the building beneath me. The boom shook the buildings nearby, but no harm was done to them. Nobody inside KingDom's survived, though, and that included thirty-seven vampires.

* * *

"What the hell just happened?" Thurman Bray, San Francisco's Chief of Police demanded.

"Thurman, there's no need to shout. I lost someone inside that building," Bill said. "If I knew what happened, I'd tell you."

"There's proof that the management was connected to those college girl murders two years ago," Jayson handed a flash drive to Bill. "Hank and I managed to get that before we uh, got out."

"Did you have anything to do with that pile of rubble out there?" Thurman tossed out a hand in disbelief.

"My agent here had nothing to do with that," Bill snarled. "And unless you can determine how a nine millimeter could cause that kind of destruction—because that's how he was armed—then shut the hell up."

"You think the management did that—you think they knew they were caught?" Thurman attempted to calm Bill down.

"That's my guess—that they had this in the plans in case we came snooping. We came snooping tonight. Now we're left with a missing agent, who knows how many dead and a big pile of rubble." Bill shook his head.