Domiel (3 page)

Ambrose must think her soft. It truly hadn’t occurred to her that he thought her this far gone. Domiel, for fuck’s sake. What bullshit.

Trained to react without fear or indecision, she slammed the vehicle into drive and peeled out of the parking space.
So much for being a memory before someone reported the car stolen.
Squealing tires and demon assassins aside, she was making quite the spectacle in the parking lot.

She gunned the car toward the assassin, but Domiel didn’t flinch. At the last second, she wrenched the car aside and narrowly missed hitting him. His reflexes were faster than she’d imagined. He yanked the passenger door open and got his big body halfway inside before she had time to blink.

She should have hit him head-on and not grown a conscience.

“I don’t think so, rookie.” She floored the gas, and the heavy door hit him, smashing his hand in the process. He still didn’t let go, so she slammed on the brakes, the propulsion of the sudden stop throwing him off balance and tossing him against the concrete of the parking garage.

“Still your fantasy girl, Domiel?” she taunted as she drove away, the car door slamming shut when she accelerated again. He’d heard her. Demons had excellent hearing.

She needed to ditch the vehicle as soon as she left the airport grounds. In no time the police and a half-assed trained demon assassin would be after her, both aware of what type of car she’d stolen. Not that she hadn’t been in worse situations before, but short on time and nerves … yeah. She wasn’t about to let some newbie assassin get in her way.

She made the last circle around the parking garage, fully alert for possible trouble. Domiel suddenly popped out from behind a cement beam, running toward the car to her left. A parking garage attendant stood outside of his station directly in front of her, a cordless phone in his hand. She couldn’t go right, because that would keep her in the parking garage. She couldn’t go left because the rookie was out to prove himself and would stop at nothing. No, she had to go straight.

Better move, idiot, I’m coming through.

White-knuckling the cold steering wheel, she ground the accelerator to the floor. The Hawaiian leis hanging from the rearview mirror flipped up and nearly hit the roof of the car.

The human’s lack of reaction actually aided her. Instead of jumping on the car, Domiel used his superior speed to pull the attendant out of harm’s way as she splintered the red and white block that failed to do its job. Domiel and the paunchy security guard barely cleared two feet from the speeding car.

How sweet. He’d played the Good Samaritan while allowing his hit to get away.

Dumbass.

Apparently airport security had been notified, since they pulled up on her ass with unusual quickness for rent-a-cops. Two white SUVs with flashing lights, a few humans in the front seat. Did they even carry weapons? Did she care?

Not about to find out, she never lifted her foot from the accelerator as she wove in and out of traffic.

So this is what it feels like to run from the Alliance.
Luckily she’d been trained just as well, if not better, than those who would be sent after her. Domiel would overthink every action, and the foreign adrenaline rush would cause him to make mistakes. She’d been an assassin for centuries. Her game was solid, no matter what Ambrose thought.

She deliberately steered her car down the wrong overpass to get out of the airport, and fifty yards onto the curved concrete bridge she turned on a dime, skidding the back tires until she faced those pursuing her, a white cloud of burnt rubber in her rearview mirror. A corner of her lip tilted up as she revved the engine of the tiny POS car.

This felt good.
Too good.

Back on the gas, she passed by their pathetic roadblock with a few swift jerks of the wheel. A quick glance in her rearview mirror showed them faltering to begin the arduous task of turning their SUVs around.

Running a few red lights, she tore out of the airport before she saw their headlights, but not before she saw another vehicle peel out of the shadows.

Damn
. She didn’t know he could drive. He’d just fallen from grace a few months ago, and she hadn’t been aware he’d taken his defensive driving lessons yet. The question was, had he passed, or had he merely made use of the backseat with one of his whores? With a smile on her face, she adjusted the rearview mirror. “Let’s see what you got, rookie.”

When his stolen ride pulled insane speeds and shot car-lengths closer in mere seconds, she realized her first mistake—underestimating him. Her smile faded as she noted the bastard had stolen a damn fine vehicle with flames licking the hood. She’d chosen a nondescript car in the hopes of blending in.

He flew up on her ass before she could find a side road to turn off. She could hear sirens in the distance, mocking her. If Domiel didn’t catch her, someone would, and that was entirely unacceptable. The situation had gone from bad to intolerable. How the hell could she outmaneuver whatever-the-fuck he was driving in a Corolla?

When he bumped her from behind, her steering wheel vibrated from the impact. Her fangs elongated in self-preservation, her animalistic side surfacing, her blood pumping. She laughed out loud, and though she sounded a tad crazy even to herself, she figured what the hell. God, she’d missed this. The action. The suspense. Too bad she didn’t have her flamethrower with her.

She made the first right she came to and nearly tipped the car in the process as she wrenched the wheel, hand over hand. No doubt Domiel left black skid marks on the concrete when he mimicked her turn, his back tires smoking. As she gunned it into the darkened streets ahead, houses began popping up. Wooden jungle gyms with swings and slides, manicured lawns, and cute little houses that would inspire Thomas Kincaid made her sweat.

Just when she was enjoying the car chase, she’d driven right into a suburb.

His headlights gleamed behind her as though she were tied down on wooden planks and a train ate up the tracks at full speed.

She didn’t do damsel in distress.

Kelsey deliberately turned her car toward a giant oak tree. Five seconds before collision she opened her door and launched herself out of the vehicle. She rolled with the impact and sprang to her feet in seconds, the deafening sound of the crash behind her, a memory she wished were never made.

The squeal of brakes prompted her to push herself harder and run faster, her tired body screaming in protest. Damn Jade and her training. The sound of a magazine being snapped into place wasn’t a good sign.
Will he have the balls to shoot me?

When a bullet whizzed by her leg, she had her answer.

* * * *

It took everything Ambrose had not to come out of his chair and show Alexia and Jade
exactly
why he was leader of the Alliance. Both knew he could read their thoughts, and both were concentrated on the same song, singing it over and over again in their minds.

“Quit with your rendition of ‘Smooth Criminal’ and answer me. Kelsey hijacked one of our jets, so we know she’s in Paris,
Alexia
.” Alexia sat before him, her gaze on the wall behind his chair, just over his right shoulder. Her bright blue eyes were full of mischief, insolence, and anger. He could surpass her in the latter. “I know you spoke with her. Domiel is two breaths away from catching her. What did you tell her?”

Nothing but the
King of Pop
in their minds.

Hold your temper.
“Innocent demons in Paris are committing suicide. No demon in their right mind would do that. Their souls go straight to the Pit. Witnesses say the demons seem to be in a trance when beheading themselves. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cut off your own fucking head? Forget for a moment that Kelsey is your friend, and remember why you fight. To keep innocents safe.”

Alexia started tapping her foot to the beat in her head. Jade showed no sign that she’d even heard him.

His temper threatened to snap. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall opposite his desk. His light blue eyes had gone completely white. No pupils whatsoever. He looked every bit the fallen angel slash vampire, and the two women sitting before him were completely daft to believe he wouldn’t use his powers to knock the damned smirks off their faces.

Didn’t they realize that he loved Kelsey like a daughter? All three assassins had wormed their way into his heart, but especially Kelsey. She’d never told him—nor anyone, for that matter—of what she went through right before she’d been turned. But he knew. He’d known for years. No one should have to go through what she had. After she’d been kidnapped last year, he’d personally ripped apart every foundation in Paris looking for her.

Kelsey had shut him out for the last few months, but he refused to let Alexia and Jade shut him out now.

“Jade, you forget that I can still put your ass on probation. I DVR’d that episode of
COPS
you were featured on.”

When Jade’s lips twitched in what he believed to be amusement, he lost it. “You’re both out.
Out!
Do you understand me? Until we find Kelsey, and I can be sure you’re not communicating with her, you’ll remain under lock and key. The second this is over, you’ll be packing your things and leaving.”

Alexia raised a brow, finally making eye contact with him. “You’re forgetting something, Ambrose.”

Her insolence would get her killed. “And that would be?”

She smiled wide, flashing her fangs. “You can’t keep us from sleeping.”

He rose to his feet slowly and leaned over the desk, barely restraining his volatile powers. For the first time in centuries, Lexie’s face paled. “This is not a game, you understand? Last night the heads of the Alliance came together, and we looked over all the evidence concerning this case. This shit hasn’t gone down overnight. The evidence has been piling up for weeks. Sven, Roger, and I spoke to a demon last night who accused Kelsey of trying to murder him. I used my powers to read his mind, and he’s telling the truth. I saw it all in his memories. In the vision she attacked him.”

“Kelsey would never do such a thing,” Jade insisted.

He’d known these women would blindly offer support to their friend, no matter the evidence. He’d been subjected to all the reports as they’d come in, which was the only reason his trust in Kelsey had faltered. He couldn’t argue with proof. “I’ll bring in the documents and show you the evidence we have against her. What I can’t have is you two working against me.”

“If you have all this evidence, then why haven’t you put a hit on her yet? You told Domiel you only wanted to talk to her.”

He glared at Alexia. “How did you know that?”

She lifted her chin and kept her mouth shut.

“Fine. Keep your secrets. It’s not going to change the outcome.”

Jade, a filthy mess from training, sat straighter in her chair, her long, dark hair stiff with dried mud. “So you want her to be brought back for questioning when you have ample evidence that proves she’s a cold-blooded killer? Why didn’t you just send out the hit?”

He simply couldn’t. He’d spoken to Sven and Roger for the past few days, and each of them had thought up some way to keep from putting the hit on her. Kelsey had suffered at the hands of demonic spirits for days, so perhaps she’d benefit from seeing a psychologist. Problem was, he didn’t think that would solve Kelsey’s problems, and he had obligations as leader of the Alliance.

All of that, however, was none of their business, so he simply replied, “I’m afraid that’s what this will come down to if Domiel is unable to bring her back in any other capacity. I’m not giving him much time. If he’s not back within twenty-four hours his mission will change from bringing her back for questioning to assassinating her.”

“I can’t let you give that order,” Lexie said softly.

A part of him wished she
could
stop him. “You have no say in the matter.”

* * * *

Kelsey kept running, her white sneakers a blur in the darkness. Domiel took aim again, only this time it wasn’t to give a warning shot. He slowly squeezed the trigger, aiming for her right thigh.

She stumbled when the bullet made contact, but still didn’t go down.

Her tenacity didn’t surprise him. Ambrose had said she’d run, that it would take more than weapons to bring her down.

Domiel had trained with her, side by side, for weeks. He recalled the times she’d come to training smelling of soap, her hair pulled back and damp, her clothes clean and fresh. But on more than one occasion she’d arrived with dark circles under her eyes, and it had been obvious she’d just rolled out of bed. Those days she’d been unapproachable and locked deep in thought. They were also the days when she’d lacked skill and technique while training. She’d broken bones and acquired bruises even her vampire traits couldn’t heal in mere hours.

Guess this was one of her good days. He’d known she was tough, had prepared himself for it, but this was insane.

Her strength, grace, and tenacity were the very things that drew him to her, and yet it was all working against him at the moment. Causing her pain wasn’t going to endear him to her, but what the hell was he supposed to do? She was a target.
His
target.

Ambrose’s threat loomed in the back of his mind. He didn’t have a choice. He had to bring her back or face losing his job, but he wasn’t about to pepper her with bullets, either.

He watched in awe as she cleared a six-foot wooden fence, her Olympian jump so perfect he doubted the obstacle had thrown her rhythm off. He could do her one better. Using his demonic powers he materialized on the other side. His longer strides brought him on her heels lightning-quick. Blood seeped through her pink jogging pants, and he felt a second’s worth of unabated guilt.

Thankfully the unfamiliar emotion was fleeting.

He threw his body into hers and tackled her to the ground. From her face-plant she elbowed him in the gut as he reached for his handcuffs. The blow stopped him from breathing, but not from securing her arms behind her back and snapping the cuffs around her slender wrists.