Vengeance (The Captive #6)(72)
“This way.” Kane jerked his head down the road toward the hotel.
William struggled to keep his feet under him as he was propelled down the road in between the two men. Four more men flanked him, two on each side. He remained as unresponsive as possible, searching for weaknesses in the guards surrounding him. He had to play opossum, even though he could feel his broken bones knitting themselves back together already. Tempest’s blood in his veins helped to accelerate the process; he hoped it would be fast enough.
He subtly stretched his back, relieved to find the vertebra completely healed. He didn’t understand the strange power of Tempest’s blood continuing to swirl through him, but he knew it would help to get him through the rest of this.
***
“Tempest, you can come down now.”
Tempest’s head snapped around when Pallas’s whispered voice floated up the stairs. She’d fled to the attic when she’d seen Kane walking toward the home and spent the past ten minutes restlessly pacing the floor. Her nails would be nothing but nubs if this continued. She glanced in disgust at the dried blood on her index finger from where she’d bit her nail to the quick. She forced them down to her side before rushing over to the other door.
How could she possibly go down there? Kane had been about to enter the house when she’d last seen him, unless William had somehow found him before he could come back inside. She’d never heard the front door open, or the sound of their voices. She had no idea what had happened, but she couldn’t shake the certainty something had gone wrong, and now she’d be separated from William forever.
Fighting back tears and the lump in her throat, she opened the door and poked her head around to peer down at her friend. The color of Pallas’s face and the haunted look in her hazel eyes told Tempest immediately her concern that something had gone wrong was correct.
“What is it?” she demanded as she practically flew down the stairs to her friend. She didn’t think her feet touched a single stair on the way down.
“They have William,” Pallas murmured.
Tempest fought back the waves of panic trying to drown her. Her stomach twisted in such a way she feared she might vomit for the first time in her life. If this didn’t work, if William couldn’t get free, she may have just lost him forever. A sob lodged in her throat, a strangled sound escaped her as her hand flew to her mouth.
What had they done? Why had she agreed to this plan? She should have tried harder to get him to agree to leave. Then she recalled his words about war and saving lives. Recalled the haunted look in his eyes when he’d spoken. She knew he didn’t sleep well at night, knew his memories of battle haunted him, and he was determined to prevent that from happening to someone else. This was the right thing to do. She kept telling herself that, but all she really felt like saying was screw it all; none of it mattered, she wanted him back.
“Come,” Pallas said and rested her hands comfortingly upon hers.
Tempest’s legs quaked as she followed her to the steps and down to the first floor. Abbott stood by the front window with the same appalled look on his face Pallas had. “Where did they take him?” Tempest demanded.
“The hotel,” Abbott replied.
“At least that has gone right,” she murmured.
Abbott glanced outside before focusing on her again and giving a brisk nod. “Yes it went… ah… well.”
“What happened?” She hurried over to join him by the window.
Abbott tried to hold her back, but she nudged him out of the way and pulled the curtain aside to peer out. Her eyes went instantly to the shattered porch railing and the blood stained snow. There was so much blood. Streaks of it stood starkly out against the gray exterior of the orphanage and a thicker red puddle had formed beside the porch. She couldn’t think about the cause of it or who had lost the most; she knew her answer would be William.
“Oh.” Her hand flew to her mouth. She took a step back before moving forward and practically sticking her nose to the glass of the window.
Pallas rested her hand on her shoulder. “It was what he planned, and not all of the blood is his.”
“How bad was it?” Her voice squeaked when she spoke through the lump in her throat.
“Bad, but if he hadn’t planned to be taken alive, he would have killed Kane. Kane never saw him coming and got an ass whooping he won’t forget anytime soon,” Abbott gushed out. The excitement in his voice caused her to shoot him an angry look. “What?” he asked as he held his hands innocently out before him. “It sucks that’s the way it was supposed to play out, but it was pretty awesome to watch. I don’t know where or how you found him, but he is freaking impressive.”
“Boys,” Pallas said with a roll of her eyes. “But he’s right, it was impressive. Is he really who he says he is, Tempest?”
“Yes.”
“Wow,” Pallas breathed. “Let’s just hope the rest of this works out the way he planned. You trust him?”
“With my life.”
Pallas folded her hands before her. “That’s good enough for me.”
Tempest couldn’t look at either of them again; her gaze was drawn back to the blood stained snow. Lifting her eyes, she stared at the hotel beyond. More vampires than normal were milling around the hotel and gathering on the street. The numbers were swelling to the same as those she’d seen gather during the first burning. They pushed closer to the door, but the curtains remained drawn over the windows.