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His voice cracked with a mix of worry and barely repressed fury - everything that wasn't showing on his face. I squeezed his hand. I could only imagine what he was going through, and as frustrating as his reactions were at the moment, they were also totally understandable. Hell, there was no way known I would have been as calm as he currently was if it had been my soul mate out there in the operating room.
Quinn sat back down beside me, pressing his warmth against my side and helping to battle the chill threatening to overwhelm me. He, like me, smelled of old blood, but my scent was also mixed with the aroma of fear and dried sweat, and it was decidedly unpleasant. As was my dress, which had become stiff and uncomfortable with all the dried blood on it. I plucked at the material lightly with my fingers. It was yet another dress that would end up in the trash. This job was playing havoc with my wardrobe. And my life.>I made my way through the trees and the shadows, stepping carefully but quickly, keeping low where possible. It was tempting to shift to wolf shape, because she was quieter and far more deadly in the forest. But if Young happened to see me and attack, my wolf would be at a distinct disadvantage. Teeth against fist and feet - especially when they had the speed of a vampire behind them - was never a good thing.
The blood and fear scents were growing stronger, and with them came the sound of voices. One of them I recognized. Liander.
He was alive. I briefly closed my eyes and said a silent thank-you to fate.
And yet the knowledge didn't ease my tension one little bit. Because there was another voice riding the wind besides Liander's, and that one didn't sound particularly calm or sane. I eased up on the speed and, using a rock as cover, peeked out into the clearing.
Liander and another man were tied by their wrists to a huge branch that overhung the clearing. Both men had been stripped naked, and their feet hung several inches off the ground. It had to hurt to be suspended like that, but there was little evidence of pain on Liander's somewhat-battered features. His body was littered with bruises, evidence of the fight he'd put up and the pain Rhoan had felt, but the thin man hanging beside him was almost unmarked, except for his wrists. Though I suspected the bloody condition of those were not through anything Young had done, but rather his desperate writhing to escape.
I had no idea where the other captives were. They certainly weren't in the clearing, but then, the van Young had driven up in was nowhere in sight, either. Maybe he was keeping everyone else tucked away to play with another day. Quinn would find them, and keep them safe. I doubted if even a bhuta would have much hope against someone who had spent two hundred years as a vampire assassin.
I couldn't see Young, but I had no doubt his was the other voice I'd heard. Part of me wanted to rush out there right now, to grab Young and pummel him senseless for what he'd done to Liander and the other man. But there were still two minutes of Rhoan's five to go, and I had no doubt my brother would pummel me if I didn't do exactly what he asked. Besides, not only was he the senior guardian here, he had a whole lot more at stake. I silently blew out a breath and settled in to wait.
And I was betting the two minutes would seem like an eternity.
I've found the van and the other people who were kidnapped, Quinn said.
I hesitated, fearing the worst, then asked, Are they all alive?
Yes. Beaten and bloody, but alive. I won't move the van because Young will hear it, but you can be sure he won't get near these people again.
That was one vow I had total faith in. Thanks.
Just be careful, Riley.
Now you're starting to sound like Jack.
His warm laughter ran through my mind. My lips curved into a smile, but it quickly faded as Young came into view. His thin face contorted with rage and lank hair slapped at his back and shoulders. His hand struck his thigh in time with his movements, and with every blow the scent of blood became stronger. I frowned, concentrating my gaze on his hand and seeing for the first time the sheer length of his fingernails. They had to be a good inch long and were razor sharp. Every time he slapped himself they were tearing through the fabric of his stained jeans and into his flesh.
He didn't seem to notice. Or care.
The image of Ivan's back rose - the torn and bloodied strips of flesh that hadn't appeared cut by a knife or a whip. Was that how Young was killed? I hadn't thought to ask Vinny that question.
"You have no idea what these people did to me."
Young's voice was high and uneven. He continued to pace the length of the clearing as he spoke, slapping away at his thigh. The scent of blood continued to grow, and so did the mad spark in his eyes. Working himself up to the task almost at hand, I realized suddenly.
"And you have no idea how they wrecked my life."
"No one can understand what you've been through," Liander said, his voice very calm and very even despite the pain he had to be in. "And you have every right to be angry."
He was trying to empathize with Young and diffuse the situation. Worth a try, I guess, but Young wasn't your everyday madman. He'd had more than twenty years to fantasize about his revenge, and I very much doubted that a calm, sympathetic tone would help.
"Those bastards left me for dead. They sliced me open and left me for dead." Blood splattered wetly now when he slapped his thigh, and his teeth had begun to protrude from his lips. "But I didn't die. I found a way to live, and I will have my revenge. On everyone."
"If you didn't die, then you weren't meant to. Fate obviously had other plans for you."
As Liander spoke, his gaze went from Young to the trees surrounding the clearing, and I knew then he was aware that we were here. God, I hoped Young didn't come to the same realization.
I glanced at my watch. Still thirty seconds to go.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and tried to stifle the growing sense of anxiety.
"But not everyone here was responsible for your death, Aron," Liander continued, still in that soft, calm tone. "Not everyone deserves to die."
Young swung around and stalked to Liander, his face inches away and spittle flying as he said, "No one here lifted a finger to help."
