Part 13 (1/2)

Outside, the only source light emanated from a giant fluorescent bulb hanging over the front entrance of the building. There wasn't even a light pole in the parking lot. And to top it all off, there was a new moon tonight.

”Lovely,” she muttered as she stepped out of the glare of the light in hopes that her eyes would adjust to the darkness. When they didn't, she closed them, and tried to focus on listening. She hoped she could hear something, anything that would give her a clue as to where everyone went.

Unfortunately, the night was so quiet, she didn't even hear birds chirping or bugs making noise. Of course, it was the middle of winter, but still. The only thing she could hear was the sound of cars zooming past on the freeway two miles to the east.

Sydney squeezed her eyes more tightly, frustrated that she couldn't hear anything, anything at all. Suddenly, a white light appeared behind her eyelids. It wasn't the same as the dots she saw earlier when the concussion was affecting her. This was different. It was only one light, one large light, and it seemed to be trying to tell her something. She opened one eye, just in case-and the light was there, too. It bobbed a few feet in front of her, quivering slightly, as if it understood the sense of urgency she felt to find Gavin.

”Gavin?” she asked haltingly. She had no idea if he sent the light or not, but when she said his name, the thing bobbed around like a hummingbird, so she decided to believe that was its purpose. What the h.e.l.l else could it be?

”Okay,” she said as she took a step toward the glowing ball. ”Lead me to him.”

The ball bobbed in place for the s.p.a.ce of two heartbeats, and then it zoomed away toward a nearby cl.u.s.ter of trees.

”Hang on!” she called as she struggled to catch up. ”I can't run that fast! Don't lose me! Wait up!” She plunged into the snow bank at the edge of the parking lot, and waded through knee-deep snow, following the ball of light she fervently hoped was not leading her to her death.

Chapter 11.

They aren't killing me. Why aren't they killing me?

These thoughts drifted through Gavin's head as he floated in and out of consciousness. He was in the middle of the woods, his wrists tied with a thick length of rope that had been thrown over the lowest branch of a st.u.r.dy oak tree. One Rakshasa held the other end of the rope, keeping Gavin's arms suspended above his head, while the rest took turns beating the h.e.l.l out of him.

But they weren't planning to kill him. That much was apparent to the one who had once ruled a Rakshasa pack. When he had been in charge, they didn't mess around with torturing s.h.i.+fters or humans or Chala. They killed them outright. There had only been one time, when they'd homed in on a Chala, some three hundred years ago. His pack mates wanted to know if the Chala was really as great as the Light Ones believed. Considering the way those guys acted about the rare females, they figured she must be pretty d.a.m.ned amazing in bed.

So Gavin let them have their way with her, before they killed her. Afterward, they claimed she wasn't any better than the waitress from the last bar they'd hung out at. Gavin now knew they had been lying about the experience. Either that, or Sydney was an anomaly. The Fates knew, she was fan-fricking-tastic in bed.

Speaking of Fates, he hoped to h.e.l.l William was taking care of her. And Brandon. Hopefully, William would get over whatever issues he had with Brandon. It was obvious Gavin wasn't getting out of this experience alive. They hadn't killed him yet, but they were keeping him alive for a reason. And once that reason was realized, he would be dead. He knew it like he knew what it felt like to have Sydney's arms wrapped around his waist, or her inner muscles wrapped around his c.o.c.k.

At least he'd had the pleasure of that experience, almost nightly, for the past month. He could honestly say he had realized all of his dreams before dying. Well, almost. He hadn't done two things. He hadn't told Sydney he loved her-probably because he hadn't even realized it until this moment. And he didn't know if she was pregnant yet, from their one moment of unprotected s.e.x. She hadn't had her period since then, so there was still hope. He decided to cling to that hope. He had nothing else to cling to.

He must have pa.s.sed out again, because suddenly, someone was slapping his face.

”You didn't kill him, did you? We're supposed to keep him alive, remember? You'd better not have-oh, there he is. Rise and s.h.i.+ne, a.s.shole. Welcome to your worst nightmare.” The face of an ugly s.h.i.+fter swam before Gavin's blurred vision. He blinked blood out of his eyes and tried to focus.

”Definitely a nightmare,” Gavin muttered.

It took the s.h.i.+fter a moment to realize Gavin had just insulted him. He slugged Gavin in the gut before someone else jerked his arm away.

”Knock it off. Alive, remember? Come on, I think he's coming.”

”Who?” Gavin asked.

”None of your f.u.c.king business, a.s.shole.” Another punch to the kidneys.

”Fates,” Gavin gasped as he coughed up blood.

Suddenly, William stood before him, looking as bewildered as Gavin felt.

”You summoned me?” William asked, a.s.sessing the situation.

”Accidentally,” Gavin muttered through swollen and cracked lips. ”Untie me. Hurry. Their boss is coming.”

”Their boss?”

”Too late,” Gavin muttered, as two s.h.i.+fters grabbed William from behind, twisting his arms around his back and wrenching his shoulders.

”Ow,” he complained.

”What the h.e.l.l is this?” the ugly s.h.i.+fter asked.

”A Fate. Kill it. It'll disappear that way,” another s.h.i.+fter replied.

”I can't hit no guy in a skirt.”

”Take the G.o.dd.a.m.ned skirt off then.”

The ugly s.h.i.+fter reached over and grabbed William's skirt. He yanked and the cloth ripped at the seams, revealing a s.h.i.+ny red thong.

”Jesus, William,” Gavin muttered.

William shrugged helplessly. ”You never know when you're going to get lucky.”

”You're banging Quentin nightly. You know d.a.m.n well when you're going to get lucky.”

William actually turned red before someone delivered him a punch to the face that knocked him out cold.

”He didn't disappear.”

”That's cuz you didn't kill him. Leave him. He's unconscious. He won't bother us. Come on. He's here. It's time to collect.”

Gavin was left alone with an unconscious William as the rest of the pack of Rakshasa moved to the other side of a moonlit clearing, presumably to wait for their boss.

The entire thing was a setup, Gavin realized now. It wasn't Sydney they wanted, it was him, just as he expected. Except somehow, they'd caught Gavin unaware, and the only way that was possible was if they had inside help. Someone on his team was a traitor. Someone on his team had sold Sydney out. If he got out of this alive, he would kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d with his bare hands, very, very slowly. But since it didn't look as if he would get out of this alive, his next best hope was to wake William and warn him, so he could get Sydney out of there, fast.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gavin reached as far as the rope around his wrists would let him, trying to toe William in the leg.

”Don't waste your time.”

Gavin froze when he heard the voice. He knew that voice. He recognized that voice. Slowly, as he fervently hoped he was wrong, Gavin twisted his head around.

And found himself staring into the face of the man he had intended to mate with Sydney.

”f.u.c.k me,” Gavin muttered, staring at Brandon, who walked through the gang of s.h.i.+fters as if he owned them. As if he was their boss. As if he was the one who had set this entire scene up in the first place.

”No thanks,” Brandon said as he nudged William's arm with his foot. William groaned and rolled over, face first, into the snow. ”You look like h.e.l.l, Gavin.”

”Yeah, getting the s.h.i.+t beat out of you while you're hanging helpless from a tree tends to do that to a guy. Why don't you let me down? Give me a fair shake.”