Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2) Page 2

  Oh, God, Ben. My husband’s right-hand man.

  The man who took pleasure in watching me suffer. Who got off on it. I hated him. Maybe more than my husband, because in some demented way, my husband did all this for the purpose of science. It was wrong. It was cruel and I was a product of that, but Ben…he enjoyed hurting others.

  And I’d enjoy hurting him.

  My grip tightened on the handle of the knife as I jabbed it as hard as I could backward into his thigh. The second it hit flesh, it was like plunging into a sponge. It jerked to a stop when it hit bone and jarred my hand.

  “Fuckin’ bitch,” he screamed, then looped his arm around my neck while his other hand knocked the knife from my grip, yanked the blade from his thigh and tossed it to the floor.

  “Let her go, dickhead.” The Scar stood several feet away, gun pointed at us.

  The cool hard metal of Ben’s gun came to my temple. He cocked it. “How about you drop it before I put a bullet through her skull.”

  The Scar laughed, but it wasn’t a good laugh. It was rough with a harsh tone that sent shivers down my spine.

  “You won’t kill her.” His dark brows flicked up and he smirked at Ben. “Her husband will cut off your balls and shove them down your throat if you do. And despite wanting to see that, I’d advise letting her go before I kill her myself.” He readjusted his aim from Ben to me. “I live. She dies. Then her husband tortures you. Seems fair enough.”

  “JUST ONE TASTE, SWEETNESS. That’s all I ask. A drop to ease my suffering.”

  I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Your self-control is that of an ant at a picnic. One taste and you’ll be back for more, and I’ll become a dried-up piece of beef jerky.”

  One taste and I’d be breaking the Scars’ law—thou shall not willingly allow a vampire to drink thy blood. Vice versa was a bigger no-no. Balen knew that first-hand.

  Actually, sleeping with the enemy was not much better, but it wasn’t breaking any laws.

  “Mmmm, I like beef jerky,” Liam said as he slid his hand down my inner thigh and back up again. “And I like you.”

  He liked that I was a Scar and against the rules. Blood—my nickname for Liam—might have a truce with the Scars, but he was a vampire and could never be trusted. I was here because he couldn’t be trusted and it was a good way to keep a close eye on him.

  “A lot,” he continued, while his fingers trailed to where just minutes ago he’d thrust with furious passion.

  Shit, I needed to get out of here before he coerced me into staying another five hours in bed.

  “Stay the night,” he said, lowering his lips to my neck, his velvet tongue sweeping across my heated skin.

  So not happening. Staying the night spelled ‘Relationship’ in big, bold letters. And this was far from any sort of relationship.

  I caught his wrist and pulled it away from between my legs. “Can’t. Have CWOs to hunt. Short-staffed tonight and it’ll be noticed if I don’t report in.”

  The Center World Others were being assholes lately, and the news reported numerous gravesites that were missing bodies. Bodies CWOs used when whichever bug they descended from crawled up from the core of the Earth and stole it in order to walk among us like humans.

  But they weren’t humans; they were bugs. Parasites that enjoyed killing people.

  “To Waleron?” He raised his thin, dark brows as he leaned over me.

  He had magnetic eyes—brilliant charcoal gray that curved downward in the outer corners, like a sad puppy dog in a window. Deceptive as hell. And irresistible when accompanied with his charm and experienced hands.

  I’d been hanging out at his club, a place no Scar was welcome until Liam and I hooked up, so it gave us an in. There’d also been a young witch there recently and Liam had taken an interest in her. Witches were on our side, so that wasn’t a good thing.

  “The man you can’t let go of,” Liam drawled.

  Maybe true, but coming from a vampire’s mouth, it pissed me off. “Fuck off, Blood.” I threw back the sheet and coldness sank into my bones. “And turn up the heat next time I come over.”

  He grabbed my hand before I managed to climb out of bed.

  He was strong, a benefit of the vampires, but as a Scar, I was a match for him, although I pretended not to be. Liam was an arrogant bastard and he wouldn’t like a woman being able to beat him at anything.

  “Hands off. I need to go.”

  The corner of his lips curved upward and the flash of battle flared in his eyes. Crap, he was eager for a fight, and I didn’t have time for his bull.

  “He has you wrapped around his little finger. A whisper of a word from him and you come running. I beg you to come to me more often, and you wave me off like a pesky fly.”

  “He’s my Taldeburu.” And Waleron was an Ancient and one of the most powerful Scars in the world. You tried not to fuck with him, although I failed because I naturally pissed him off. “And don’t put pressure on what’s between us. Sex. No strings. That’s all I will ever give. You knew this from the beginning.”

  “But I didn’t know how much I’d like you,” he said, and with a sharp tug, he pulled me beneath him and pinned my arms to the mattress with his hands on either side of my head, his weight on my midsection.

  I sighed. Liam had that charisma thing going—sexy, alluring, and charming all rolled into one hot package. We didn’t need condoms, as vampires didn’t carry diseases or impregnate, something I didn’t need happening ever again.

  And he was against the rules. I was good at breaking the rules. Problem was I always hated myself after I left his place, hated that I did this to ease another kind of pain.

  “Jedrik will be wondering why I never checked in,” I said.

  “Since when do you check in with anyone? And Jedrik’s a pansy.”

  “Sharpshooter with an arrow and has a hate-on for vampires."

  “He also went out of the city tonight,” Liam said with a smile.

  Shit, he knew everything that went on in this city, and I had yet to figure out how. His contacts stretched further than the Scars. “Got me,” I said.

  “Not yet, sweetness. But one day I will.”

  Yeah, right. He can have me the day Waleron quits being a Taldeburu—which means never.

  Time to get him off and me out the door. “God, you’re relentless,” I muttered.

  “Am I?” he drawled, lips inches from mine.

  I freed my arm and reached between us and found the hard, heated length, curling my fingers around the thickness. “Are we going to do this or what?”

  He chuckled. “Anything for you, sweetness.” Then his mouth slammed down on mine.

  The baldheaded dickhead wouldn’t kill her. From what I’d seen on the rooftop three weeks ago, this chick was too important to her husband. The question was why. She was obviously abused, and I’d seen the bastard hit her.

  That fuckin’ shit didn’t go down well with me. Not one fuckin’ bit. Didn’t care who the woman was or what she’d done, no man took a fist to a woman.

  The most I’d done was smack Balen’s girl, Danni, when she’d been in a full-blown panic and I couldn’t get through to her. It was to shock her. It worked. She snapped out of it.

  Of course, if the chick was a CWO bitch Lilac or a vampire, my morals shifted.

  Shit, the witch Trinity deserved a knife in the heart, but I’d never hit her. Pathetic assholes hit women.

  And now, seeing dickhead with a gun to her head, it seriously pissed me off. Given, I was easily pissed off, but this was more than that.

  What I was about to do was irrational and would put both of our lives at risk, but I rarely thought about consequences. I acted on gut instinct and lived with the outcome.

  Her russet eyes widened at something over my left shoulder.

  Fuck.

  I leapt forward at the same time as a gunshot exploded behind me. A searing pain hit the back of my shoulder as I slammed into the girl and her captor. We crashed to the floor, a
nd the gun he’d held to her head slid across the linoleum.

  I moved to my knees and, at the same time, hooked my arm around her waist, yanking her away from dickhead, then shoved her aside before I turned and fired my gun at whoever had put the fuckin’ lead in my shoulder.

  “Put it down,” a woman shouted from the end of the corridor.

  I snorted and slowly smiled. Bitch had no idea who she was dealing with. I wasn’t going to hit her, but I was definitely going to kill her. “Fuck you.”

  I shot a round in her direction, but the woman dove into an alcove. I leapt to my feet at the same time as dickhead scrambled to his knees and went for his gun.

  I fired.

  He rolled and the bullet ricocheted off the floor.

  The air shifted and a familiar scent wafted into me from the direction of the woman who shot me—Fuck. That was the smell of lilac and that meant a CWO Lilac.

  Lilacs were dangerous and rare. They had webs that shot from their fingertips that could trap you in a cocoon. And not sticky, soft webs, these had to be cut off with a fuckin’ knife.

  There weren’t many of them around, and I hadn’t seen one in years. Made me wonder why the hell one was here, because they certainly weren’t fans of humans.

  Lilacs lured men to their beds then trapped them in their cocoon, sometimes for weeks or months, the webs soaking up nourishment and feeding the Lilac for her to stay alive. And since Lilacs were beautiful, they easily wooed unsuspecting men.

  I sure as hell didn’t want to mess with one when I had the girl, Rayne, to keep safe. “Babe, we need out. Now.” I grabbed the back of Rayne’s sweatshirt and hauled her to her feet while running for the door leading outside. I snatched the knife Rayne had dropped off the floor as we ran.

  “A blast about now would come in handy,” I said using telepathy to speak with Quill.

  “Location?” he asked.

  “West doors. We’re fifty feet away, so don’t blow us up for fuck’s sake.”

  “Right. On it,” he replied.

  Within seconds, a loud blast vibrated the ground, throwing dickhead off balance and giving me the opportunity I needed. I aimed and fired as I ran, hitting the baldheaded bastard in the chest.

  His body slammed into the wall and blood stained his grey shirt.

  His eyes widened and his hands went to the fatal wound before his body slumped, sliding down the white wall, leaving behind a streak of blood.

  The two steel foyer doors exploded and the metal frame crumpled. The girl stopped to look at me, but I kept running as I pushed her ahead of me. “Outside.” I turned to cover our backs while she climbed through the wreckage.

  I waited until she was clear before shooting off a few rounds toward the direction of the Lilac, although I couldn’t see or scent her anymore. It wasn’t like a Lilac to run from a fight, but then, her being here was fucked up.

  I waited a few more seconds to make sure we weren’t followed then shoved through the damaged doors. The sunlight blinded me for a second and I didn’t see them right away.

  But when I did, anger erupted like a building tsunami.

  The hilt of the knife dug into my hand as my grip tightened. The gun lay in the other, my finger twitching on the trigger.

  Mr. Pompous-ass husband stood with his hands in a chokehold around Rayne’s neck as he dangled her off the ground. Her lips quivered and turned blue as she struggled for air while her hands clawed at his vicious hold, feet kicking and body wiggling as she fought for air.

  A trickle of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth and white-hot anger ignited into a volcano of rage.

  Disgusting, pathetic bastard. I fuckin’ hated this asshole. Hated most people, but there were levels, and her husband took the top level of me willing to do anything to see him die under my knife.

  “Calm down, man. Don’t get her killed acting stupid,” Quill said. “On my way.”

  There was one choice. One chance. “I never act stupid.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” her husband shouted at me. “She’ll come after you—”

  I threw my knife before he said another word.

  It drove into his shoulder, skimming Rayne’s ear and a drop of blood dripped onto her shirt. He wailed in pain and let her go, his hand reaching for the knife to yank it out.

  She fell to her hands and knees on the gravel, head bowed as she sucked in large gasps of air.

  Her husband threw the knife aside and pulled out a gun from beneath his jacket.

  I fired and rolled at the same time as he fired. Then I was moving. I dove to the right and rolled before jumping to my feet again and running at him. I could’ve shot him, ended his wretched life with one bullet, but there was no satisfaction in that. He deserved pain before he died.

  “Quill, get her the hell out of here.”

  I jumped over Rayne and plowed my fist into her husband’s face. I smiled when I heard the distinct crack of his nose. A fine mist of blood sprayed from his nostrils and hit my shirt.

  A human was no match for me, even one as muscular as the girl’s husband. Hand to hand, a Scar was ten times stronger, and since this asshole had been experimenting on Ryker, he should know that.

  I pounded my fist repeatedly into his face, sending him stumbling backward until he fell to the ground.

  “Fuck. Stop. Take her. Just take her,” he begged.

  I straddled his pitiful form as he cowered on the ground, attempting to protect his face. “Oh, I’m taking her. After I beat the shit out of you. Then kill you.”

  The tsunami hit with full-blown rage as the image of Rayne dangling from her neck, eyes wide with horror, lips trembling.

  “Kilter. End it. We need out. Now!” Quill ran at me, grabbed my arm and pulled me off the wheezing husband. “We have two minutes before this place blows.”

  I yanked my arm from his grip, bent, and threw another punch so hard my knuckles cracked as they hit his skull.

  “Stop. He’ll be dead soon enough.” Quill shoved me in the chest. I shoved him back then took a step toward her husband again.

  “I want to see this bastard die.”

  I heard the choked sob behind me and looked over my shoulder. The girl’s eyes were wide and horrified as she stared at her husband. His face was unrecognizable, eyes swollen shut, nose off to the side, teeth missing and blood everywhere.

  I glared at her. “Don’t tell me you give a shit about him?”

  Her gaze darted from her husband to me. Then she stepped back, head shaking side to side. It took me four strides to reach her.

  “Kilter,” Quill warned.

  I ignored him, grabbed her hand, yanked a knife from the sheath attached to my thigh, and slapped the hilt into her palm. “Finish him.”

  Her breath hitched as her eyes darted to her husband then back to me. “I… I can’t.”

  I grunted. “He deserves to die.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And you should be the one to do it for whatever the fuck he’s done to you.”

  She swallowed, eyes shifting to her husband who was currently moaning while he rolled around on the ground.

  She didn’t move.

  Fuck it. Fine. She didn’t have the stomach for killing, I did.

  I snatched the knife from her hand and strode over to her husband, straddling him. Then in one fluid motion, stabbed the dagger into his stomach.

  A gurgled sound escaped his throat and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “You won’t die for a few minutes yet. But you will die. It’s a fatal wound.” I lowered my voice and leaned closer. “Enjoy the pain.”

  “Let’s get out of here, man,” Quill said.

  I wiped the blood from my dagger on my khaki cargo pants then put it back in the sheath before I stalked to the girl, grabbed her hand, and then hauled ass to the wall.

  JEDRIK FLIPPED OUT THE moment I walked through the door into the Toronto Talde house. Actually, flipped out was too mild of a description. More like he seriou
sly freaked and was one pissed off Scar.

  By the time I left Liam’s, it had been sunrise, and instead of going home to Danni’s gallery where I currently lived, I came to the Talde house to use the state-of-the-art gym in the basement. Even though Jedrik lived here, along with the other Toronto Scars, I’d expected him to be either in bed sleeping or in the bed of his flavor of the week.

  He wasn’t.

  He was up raiding the fridge.

  “This is flippin’ bullshit, Delar. Are you shittin’ me? Liam? I can smell the bastard all over you. Goddamn stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Okay, it compares to hooking up with hothead Edan—fuck, what are you doing? Liam? A goddamn vampire?”

  “Okay, you’ve said that,” I muttered as I leaned up against the wall in the foyer.

  Jedrik paced the Persian runner, head low, blond curls bouncing with each furious step. “A vampire? A bloody vampire?” Jedrik repeated himself when he was angry. Maybe because it was so unusual he ever lost it that he needed to double up on the rare occasions he did. “Waleron hears of—”

  “He won’t,” I interrupted.

  Tac, aka Waleron, finding out I was sleeping with a vampire would be the kicker to my already screwed-up extracurricular activities. That controlled cool he exuded might just crack. Or he’d have to pop a few more of those fucking pills. Either way, it wouldn’t be pretty.

  Maybe in some masochistic way, I wanted Jedrik to find out. I needed him to yell and scream and tell me how stupid I was being.

  “He found out about Edan. What the hell is with you lately? You take off for two years, no email, no text, no nothing, and then reappear as a Wraith’s sex toy. And now you switch gears and you’re a vampire’s sex toy.”

  I stiffened. “This doesn’t concern you, Arrow.”

  “Yeah, it does concern me because you’re my best friend.” Jedrik shook his head, hands clenched at his sides. “Liam. Fuck.” He snorted. “It’s Waleron. This has something to do with him. Right? Of course, I’m right. It always has to do with him.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer as he continued. “You’re using these guys like he does Trinity for her visions. Except with you, it’s more than that, isn’t it?” I tensed at how close he was to the truth. “Is it working for you? Well, I sure as fuck hope it has worked its way out of your ass, because I’m not going to stand by and lose you again. Liam finds out you’re using him, he’ll kill you and screw the truce.”