Dark Secrets (12 page)

“It’s cold outside,” I said and pulled away.

Marianna glanced down at my forearms covered in sheaths and
gleaming blades. She looked up, met my gaze. After a long moment she nodded
once as if she understood. Whatever it was, I’d take it and get the fuck out of
here.

Micah strode out of the room and I waited until Hannah
exited before I took up the rear.

“How do we get out of here?” Micah asked and drew a hand
through his shaggy hair. He looked down one side of the hall, then the other.

Hannah stayed silent a moment while she searched her vast
memory for the correct blueprint. “There’s another staircase if we take this
hall down, turn left, left and then right. It’ll bring us to the back of the
hospital. We’ll have to circle around to get back to the fence we cut.”

“Let’s go then.” Micah led the way, his strides long and
sure, forcing me, Hannah and Marianna to walk double time to keep up with him.

Every room we passed made me ill.

“What about all these other people?” I asked, struggling to
keep pace with the group. Words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop
them. “We can’t just leave them here.”

The approach of footsteps was louder, closer, a mocking
answer to my questions.

“Ella,” Micah growled. “We don’t have time.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and stopped in the middle of
the hall. Red corkscrew curls haunted me. I’d made fun of that girl long, long
ago—called her weak and pathetic because she’d cried after being punched in the
stomach. I’d decreed that anyone who couldn’t take a simple hit shouldn’t have
been in training to become a hunter.

“Those are other people’s mothers, daughters, sisters. You
read the files—you know what was done to them.” I close my eyes and spoke the
truth. “We can’t leave them.”

His heavy sigh washed over me. “What do you want me to do?
We can’t pick every lock, Ella.”

“I…” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and knew he was
right. “I know, but…”

“Kick the doors in,” Hannah suggested.

I opened my eyes and stared at her for a long moment, knew
we didn’t have time to spare.

“And then what?” I asked, desperate for her to come up with
a plan, some kind of solution. I’d failed mankind, failed the vampires, even my
sister. But these women, I could do something for them.

“Shit,” Micah said, his gaze focused on a spot behind my
right shoulder.

I turned as four armed guards rushed from the stairwell and
into the hallway. Two dropped to their knees, took aim, their matte black
rifles long and wicked looking. Instincts took over and I reacted without
thought, that special spot inside me, the one my shadow lurked in, opening
wide. I phazed the distance in a blink of an eye, grabbed the barrel of one
weapon, kicked the other. The two other guards who’d kept running in our
direction turned at the commotion.

Micah rushed into the fray and swung out, his fist
connecting against the guard’s jaw. I didn’t have time to watch the perfection
of his movements or how freaking sexy he looked while kicking ass.

“Fucking vampire,” one of the guards hissed and launched
himself at me.

He wrapped his large, meaty hand around my neck and squeezed
as his buddy withdrew a knife from his boot and lunged. I fitted my fingers
around my attacker’s forearms and yanked him forward, slamming my forehead
against him. I lifted and turned, using the man as a shield. The blade intended
for me slid into the guard’s back and he screamed in pain.

He let go of me and I spun, kicking my leg out until my boot
connected with the second security officer. Two more thuds hit the ground and I
looked as Micah swiped blood from a cut at the corner of his mouth.

“You hurt?” he asked me curtly.

I shook my head and glanced at the men writhing on the
ground in pain. Alive, wounded, but not getting up anytime soon. I motioned to
a random door, gestured Micah to another identical entrance. He drew in a
breath, nodded and we parted ways. I positioned myself in front of the door,
kicked out and put as much strength as I could into breaking it down. I aimed
for the space below the knob, where it would be the weakest.

The door crashed open and was quickly followed by a second
crash, Micah kicking open his door. I stepped inside and had an awful flashback
of Hannah strapped to a medical table, naked and bleeding. Only, this patient
wasn’t bleeding or struggling. She had pale-blonde hair and glassy blue eyes.
The woman stared at me with a helplessness that tore at my heart. What really
got me, what had me covering my own belly, was her stomach swollen to bursting
with child.

I rushed forward and slipped a blade free as I went. My
knife, razor sharp, melted through the restraints at first her wrists, then her
ankles.

“Can you walk?” I asked, already striding for the door.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I looked over my shoulder. She cupped her belly and
struggled to sit up. Ugh. I crossed back, helped her to a standing position.

“We don’t have time to talk. If you want out of here, we
gotta go now.”

In the hall, I focused on the next door and kicked it in.
Some patients were restrained, but the less lucid ones sat on their beds or in
hard plastic chairs. By the time we finished clearing the hall, women dressed
in gowns similar to Marianna’s drifted from their rooms. Some were young,
barely eighteen—others were just starting to gray and wrinkle.

Once the last door was breached, I grabbed Hannah’s arm. She
stood silent, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” I said.

She shook her head. “Take Marianna.” Hannah shoved Micah’s
mother into my arms.

“Hannah!” I hissed as my sister strode passed Micah.

Hannah gathered the zombie-like patients who wandered down
the hall in confused, wandering circles.

Micah shook his head and threw his hands up in the air. “What
the fuck is she doing?”

Pride had me grinning from ear to ear. “She’s giving them
direction.”

“I know this is confusing and scary, that you’ve all been
through a lot,” Hannah said loudly, “but we’re here to help. If you want out of
here, follow us. You want to stay, fine, but more guys with scary guns are on
their way.”

Once Hannah had everyone walking in the right direction, she
jogged up to me and linked her arm with Marianna’s, pulling her from me. As a
pulsing, loud, ungainly group, we started for the staircase.

I motioned to Micah. “Stay up here with your mom and Hannah,
I’ll take up the rear.”

He gave me a brisk nod and took the lead. For the first time
in my life, the karma fairy—bless her black, bitchy heart—looked the other way.
We made it down the stairs and through the halls without encountering a single
soul.

Outside, the frigid wind slapping me in the face had never
felt better. That lasted for about two seconds. Guards, alerted to the
break-in, charged us the second we made it into the open. Micah and I fought,
kicked and punched side by side while Hannah stayed with the shivering women,
ushering them closer to safety. I lost myself for a few moments, seduced by the
wind, by the scents in the air, by how it felt to smash my fist against flesh
and bone.

A bullet thudded beside my boot, snapping me out of my
trance. Startled, I looked up at the gun trained on me from one of the guard
towers. The shadow inside me pulsed, taking over. Without any real effort, I
phazed the distance, appeared at his side and grabbed his gun. I looked down at
Micah wrestling two men at once and worked quickly to take out the other man in
the booth.

The world spun around me as if it slowed to give me extra
time. I phazed back to the fight below, grabbing the gleaming knife aimed for
Micah’s kidneys. I saw the guard’s fear, smelled it. His emotions poured into
me as if I’d somehow sunk into his head. His secrets hit me one at a time, a
filthy stream of words I devoured. The lethal predator inside me latched onto
his fear. I shoved the black putrid ball of terror back at him.

“No, no, no,” he cried, backing away.

The scent of urine filled the night and yet I still pressed
forward, filling him with horror. I grabbed the man’s hand, clutched until bone
crunched and he dropped his knife.

Stepping forward, I licked my lips, my fangs fully exposed.
I glanced at his throat and imagined the blood racing in his veins, wondered if
his fear would add to the taste of him. The scents pouring off him filled me
with an incredible high.

A roar filled the night, snapping me from my thrall.
Horrified at what I’d just done, I pulled out of the man’s head and looked up
as a large yellow lion raced to us. From the other end of the compound,
Eli—still in wolf form—charged. All hell broke loose. The women screamed in
panic, and Hannah, bless her heart, did her best to calm them.

“To the woods,” Micah yelled, struggling to hustle everyone
in the direction of the chain-link fence, our last obstacle to freedom.

Shouts rang out in the distance, followed by the revving of
vehicles. Alarms screamed through the night and made it hard to think past the
noise. Micah was a blur of action, creating a way to freedom and ushering
everyone through the hole he’d made.

When the last person was accounted for, Dante and Eli joined
us. A gunshot rang out, followed by an awful howl. I froze and turned in slow
motion. Eli dropped to the ground, his large wolf body twitching as two more
shots rang out and hit their target.

My heart stopped, an anguished “No!” tearing from my lips. I
stumbled, nearly tripping over my feet.

“Eli!” Micah yelled, his shout eclipsing mine. He changed
directions, splitting from the group to sprint to his fallen brother. Grief
slammed into me. Try as I might, I couldn’t look away from the dark-red blood
spilling onto the snow and saturating the ground.

A flash of blinding light radiated from the shifter, and I
lifted my hand in front of my face to shield my eyes. Mid-step, Dante morphed
from lion to man—a seamless transition that reminded me of water flowing down a
river. He made it to the fallen wolf before Micah and scooped him up off the
ground.

He motioned Micah back. “I got him, go!” Dante bellowed and
cradled the large animal against his naked chest.

Micah pulled out his phone and hit a button as he ran. We
reached the forest line and I hung back, heart in my throat, tears in my eyes,
making sure there were no stragglers. The second I heard Micah’s words, the
furious tone behind them, I knew who he’d called.

“Need a portal, now. Eli’s been shot.”

When we reached the jeep, Micah kept sprinting until he
reached a clearing a little way past the access road. The air crackled with
static and as a unit, the group came to a stop. Electricity sparked. Bright,
illuminated lines streaked to morph and split apart. A hole formed, revealing a
swirling black vortex that had me sucking in a breath.

Hannah didn’t waste a second. The moment the portal
appeared, she grabbed arms, gowns, anything she could reach to usher the women
to safety. When everyone was inside, she took Marianna’s hand, met my gaze and
stepped through, vanishing from sight.

Without a word, Dante, Eli still cradled in his arms,
followed the others to leave me and Micah alone. Boots crunched through snow,
getting closer. Wind whipped, blowing the strands of my hair all over the place
and obscuring my view.

“He’ll be okay,” I whispered, wishing my words would make it
true.

Micah shook his head and stepped through the portal. The
bond between us stretched, ripping and shredding my insides as I literally felt
Micah moving through the different dimensions. Crippling pain had me stumbling
forward, into the vortex. The air was thick and hard to navigate. My stomach
clenched, churned and my skin crawled for the split second it took to cross
into hell.

I stepped from snow and ice into the Vault, an underground
demon dimension that doubled as a nightclub. The place was completely empty, a
state I’d never seen before. The women huddled together, Hannah doing her best
to settle them. Out of a tunnel, Castro stepped forward, a pained, almost
desperate expression on his face.

Marianna took one look at the demon and screamed. Hannah
clutched her close, and Micah’s mother burrowed into her for protection. Micah
strode the distance between him and the demon lord, his every step a loud
reverberation against the sparkling stone walls.

“You fucker,” Micah hissed, drew back his balled fist and
drove it forward, straight into Castro’s face.

Sights and sounds faded under the onslaught of pure,
penetrating rage. Nothing mattered, not my mate or my brother, only vengeance.
Castro would pay. One punch after another, I unleashed the Feurety demon I’d
inherited from the asshole in front of me. Heat seared through me, curled up
from my skin in a mocking reminder of who’d sired me. The roiling ball in the
pit of my gut churned, waiting for me to release it.

I’d let it go, but not until this piece of shit experienced
my wrath.

He’d raped my mother.

I swung out and my fist connected with his nose, the
resulting crunch a deep satisfaction. Blood sprayed, coating the front of my
shirt and eating through the fabric as if it were battery acid.

Someone screamed behind me and I shoved the sound away,
pushing everything to the background.

He’d lied to me.

Surging forward with an anguished war cry, I angled my arm
up until the point of my elbow connected with his throat. When that wasn’t
enough, I swung my fist in the direction of his face. The demon lord flew back
from the impact and landed in a heap on the stone floor.

“Fight back, you pussy!” I raged, went at him again.

I was a demon because of him. I was evil because of him.

“Micah!”

I ignored my name. Ignored the way Castro’s mouth moved as
if to signal he was speaking. Fuck him and his excuses. He could write me a
goddamn letter from hell after I sent him there.

I stalked the distance between us and kicked, burying my
boot into his ribs. Once. Twice. He lifted off the ground with each blow and I
drew pleasure from his grunt of pain, from the blood smearing across the floor
when he turned to it.

Palm held up, I called the fire coiling inside me and willed
it to surge through my veins. Blue flames licked from the pattern embedded in my
flesh and for just a moment I held it there to let the anticipation of what I
was about to do simmer.

Pain. Death. Vindication.

“Don’t!” Ella’s voice pierced through me. It took me a
second to realize she’d moved in front of me to block Castro.

I snarled, shoving her to the side. “Move. The. Fuck. Out.
Of. The. Way.”

Ella grabbed my hand and curled my fingers into a fist that
extinguished the flames. She held tight—tighter when I tried to shake her off.
She cupped my cheek with her free hand, forcing my gaze to hers.

The murderous haze faded and her blue eyes sharpened into
focus. Pain. It filled her eyes and overflowed, infecting me. Had I hurt her? No.
That wasn’t right. The hurt was familiar—it was…mine.

The demon retreated and I shook my head, trying to clear my
thoughts.

“Stop.” Her voice cracked with emotion as if she were on the
verge of tears. I looked around the room, at the group of women huddled
together in terror, at Hannah, who clutched my sobbing mother close. At Dante,
who held my brother’s lifeless body. Elijah. Half my flesh and blood. My
family.

“He isn’t your father, Micah,” Ella said. “Listen to him.”

“I’m not interested in his lies.” My words were a fierce
whisper.

Castro rose from the ground, a dark fountain of blood
dripping from his swollen face. I bared my teeth as a new wave of anger
surfaced. At my side, I curled my fingers into a fist. “This piece of shit
raped my mother. He played me and now he’s going to pay.”

I stepped forward, but Ella was there, her slight frame
blocking my path. I glared at her. “Move.”

“Listen to him, Ella. I don’t need your protection.” Castro
wiped at his dripping nose. “Micah, I didn’t rape your mother. I swear to you.”

Bullshit.

“Your word means nothing. Not anymore. I saw the file, your
picture. I know what you did to her.” I ran a hand through my hair and felt the
first hints of pain at the splits—maybe breaks—in my knuckles. “Is that why you
wanted me to bring her here, so you could take up where you left off? Is this
some kind of a game to you?”

Castro shook his head. The tie holding the dark strands of
his hair had fallen out and a curtain of black flowed around his shoulders.
Emotions battered me from all angles and I knew he was trying to control me, to
calm me. The attempt pissed me off. I’d let Richard and the Shadow Agency
control me for a good portion of my life.

I wasn’t that confused, misplaced little boy. Not anymore. I
knew exactly who I was.

“I’m not the one playing games. Nothing is as it seems. Don’t
you know that by now? The demon in the photo was my twin brother.”

Was. His words hit me, the sorrow behind them potent enough
to penetrate, to burrow in and make me experience his pain. Confusion warred
with grief. I stumbled back, my legs weakening.

“Micah, you’re my nephew.” He stepped close and I retreated
until my ass hit the rough stone wall. I couldn’t comprehend his words.

He stopped advancing as if he knew I needed space to digest what
he’d said. Ella burrowed herself against my side, wrapping her arms around me.
I cupped the back of her head, buried my fingers in her silky soft hair and
held her closer.

“I asked you to bring your mother to me so I could protect
her. Derrik, your father, loved Marianna with his entire soul. Before Richard
got a hold of her, she loved him too. This,” Castro turned to indicate the
Vault, “was created by him to keep her safe.”

I looked at my mother, who sobbed in Hannah’s arms. I couldn’t
reconcile the facts, couldn’t picture her as anything other than Richard’s
wife. I’d never comprehended she’d had a life before me, never thought to ask.
And now she was a broken woman with a fractured mind. What the fuck had Richard
done to her?

My gaze shifted to Dante, to where he held my brother. Blood
dripped to the ground in large, fat splatters. The anger I’d held onto melted
away and I stumbled to the lion shifter. His eyes met mine and I saw, felt, my
own pain radiating from his gaze.

As carefully as I could, I took Eli from his arms and
cradled him to my chest. I started down the stone tunnel, one foot in front of
the other. Dozens of rooms passed in a blur I was aware of but didn’t really
see. For years this place had been my sanctuary, a place where I could be me.
Ella jogged to keep up with my strides.

In the medical ward, the cave transformed from rough slabs
of stone and expensive furnishings to a sleek, sterile room. In a strange
mixture of Eastern and Western medicine, herbs and tinctures lined one wall, while
another held a glass cabinet with medicine bottles.

Heavy gray smoke hazed the air, the scents of rosemary and
mint overpowering. The second I walked through the doors, two half-pint trolls
not much taller than my waist sprang into action.

“Give him here,” one of them rasped.

When I didn’t immediately let him go, they pried Eli from my
arms and glared up at me with orange, beady eyes that matched the shade of
their riotous hair. The wolf’s mass had to be at least ten times their combined
body weight.

“Micah, let them help.”

I looked into Ella’s eyes and let myself sink into her
strength, the trust I saw in her gaze. They would take care of Eli—they would
fix him. Slowly I released my hold, terrified it would be the last time I held
my brother. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to step in and help when the
trolls set Eli on a gurney. Ella urged me back, clearing space for the trolls
to move about.

I sank to the floor and hoped my anger hadn’t cost my
brother his life.

“He’ll be okay,” Ella said softly.

She sat next to me and lifted my arm, scooting closer to lay
her head on my shoulder. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared unerringly at
the flurry of movement. The doctors worked quickly to remove the bullets. They
were surprisingly efficient considering their short, stubby fingers were
gnarled and wrinkled, a texture that matched the rough appearance of their
grayish skin. Once the last slug plunked into a metal bowl, the duo slid their
hands through Eli’s fur.

I was on the verge of protesting when the blast of magic hit
me, sending a wave of energy that ruffled the hair on the back of my neck. On
the table, the wolf contorted as if in agony.

“What the fuck are you doing to him?” I snarled, my mate the
only thing stopping me from carnage.

I sprang to my feet, but Ella held me back. “Wait.”

The silvery-blue fur receded, leaving naked flesh in the
shape of a man—of my brother. Where the bullets had hit and then been removed,
gaping holes cut open Eli’s pale skin.

One of the doctors looked up at me with glowing eyes. “He’s
too young to shift on his own. Every time he transforms, he heals a little bit
more. Our magic only extends so far. Castro has called in an outside pack to
help force the shift.”

Frustration filled me. “Why not use the Fenrir?”

The troll scowled at me and I came damn close to punching
him in the face. “It’s my understanding that your brother’s wolf would not have
responded well to their influence. The Argent clan has a strong alpha, he’s a
good man.”

“How long will it take for them to get here, can Eli last
that long?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, two men pushed through
the door and stalked inside, filling the room with a sharp bite of energy that
played across my skin. Both were tall, muscled and had identical
don’t-fuck-with-me looks on their faces. Their matching black hair, squared
jaws and vibrant green eyes hinted they might be related. The similarity
between them ended there. The taller of the two wore an immaculate suit, the
other ripped jeans and a worn black tee that was nearly threadbare. Where one
had a short, all-business haircut, the other wore his shaggy and unkept, as if
he didn’t give a fuck about personal hygiene.

“Marcus.” The doctor bowed his head to the man in the suit.
The alpha, I assumed.

After a quick acknowledgment to the troll, the shifter
turned in my direction and locked his gaze with mine, obviously assessing me.
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Marcus Argent and this is my brother, Nikos.”

I pressed my palm to his and we shook hands, the custom more
a measure of each other’s strength than a nice to meet you.

“You can help him?” I asked, motioning to my brother.

Marcus dropped my hand. “We can try. Rogue wolves can be
temperamental.”

“Rogue?” Ella asked.

Nikos bared his teeth in a way I thought might be a grin.
There was a feral gleam in the shifter’s gaze I didn’t like aimed at my woman.
The wolf licked his lips—a deliberately sexual gesture—and drew his gaze down
her body. I curled my upper lip, the growl rising from my throat a low rumble.

“Nikos,” Marcus chastised. He glared at his brother and I
got the impression if they’d been alone, he would have smacked the back of his
head. “Knock that crap off. Let’s get started.”

The duo turned to Eli and I held my breath as I waited for
the next step. Ella grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers together, giving
me a semblance of self-control.

“Will whatever you’re about to do hurt him?” she asked.

Nikos snorted. He glared at her, the hunger from before now
hostile. “Does it matter? This will save his life.”

“Then do it,” Ella demanded.

The alpha closed his eyes and pressed his palm flat to Eli’s
barely moving chest. Beside him, Nikos went on alert, as if his sole purpose
was to protect his brother while he was distracted.

When Marcus spoke, it was a strong, dominating command.
“Shift.”

The energy swirling in the room quadrupled. Eli’s back
bowed, lifting off the gurney. Light shone, blinding me to the transformation
back to wolf.

Marcus’s voice, a deep rasp of sound as if he were
struggling to form words, rang out. “Again, wolf.”

My brother convulsed, a pained, low-pitched whine leaving
his throat. Back and forth, wolf to human, he morphed—each shift more violent.
Nikos swept in, pinning my brother down. I gritted my teeth, struggling to
leave the Argents to their work when I knew what they did hurt Eli.

“This will take some time,” one of the doctors said. “There
is no need to experience his agony. You’ll only be in the way. As Eli gains
strength, he’ll only fight harder to defy being ordered to shift. Go, he will
survive this.”

Ella straightened her shoulders, finding her voice before I
could. “We want to see him as soon as he’s awake.”

“That won’t be for a while, but I will send word. Castro
says to pick any room you want—he’s seeing to the ladies you brought with you.
Hannah and Dante have chosen to stay with your mother.”

Numbness invaded and I found myself nodding. I navigated the
interconnected rooms of the Vault until I found the room Ella and I had claimed
when she’d been brought here after her encounter with Lizbeth. Ella shut the
door behind us and sat on the purple bed, her gaze tracking my every move.

Agitation filled me, made it difficult to stop moving. I
paced the small confines of the room. The more I walked, the hotter I burned.
My palm ached and I curled my hand into a fist. The wolf’s residual energy
vibrated through me. My skin crawled as if it would split apart. I tried not to
think about what Eli was going through, tried to push away his sounds of pain
echoing in my head.

“Talk to me,” Ella said softly.

“Don’t feel like talking,” I growled, never stopping the
rhythmic squeeze-release of my clenched hand.

She positioned her body in front of me, forcing me to stop
wearing a path in the plush rug I trampled. The second I stopped moving, the
demon surged, filling me with fire. It had the taste of blood and wanted more.

Ella rested her hands on my chest and looked up at me. I
peered down at her and the colors around me shifted as I struggled for control.
She should run far, far away.

“We’ll get through this,” she said.

“Will we?” I grabbed her forearms and dug my fingers in,
readying to push her away before I inadvertently hurt her. I was a liability.