Chapter Eleven
Marcus sniffed disdainfully at the guard he’d dispatched. He’d expected better security from a vampire. Make that less human security. If this was all the man had then this would be easier than he’d expected. But just in case the vamp proved to be stronger than his magic, he needed to move faster for the sun had begun to dip.
He debated for a moment, coming back the next day, bright and early. He’d meant to arrive earlier when the sun still sat high in the sky; however, locating the house had proven trickier than expected. The problem with leaving now was the string of dead guards he’d left in his wake that would notify them of this infiltration in short order. With the kind of funds this vamp appeared to have at his disposal, he could have her out of the country in a heartbeat.
Fuck it. He’d snag the stupid girl and be gone before the sun set. Inching closer and closer to the house, he couldn’t believe his dumb luck when Ella of all people came out of some French doors at the back of the house cradling a steaming cup.
The power will be mine soon.
* * * *
“Hello, Ella.”
She almost dropped her cup of coffee when Dr. Peters came strolling nonchalantly through the hedges that bordered the patio and pool.
“Dr. P-Peters,” she stuttered in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Why I’ve come to take you back, of course. You didn’t really think we’d just let you walk away, did you?” he said smiling, even as he kept approaching.
The voices hissed in her mind.
“Bad man. He wants to hurt you.”
“Quick. Someone wake the vamp.”
“Run, foolish girl.
Ella cocked her head as she listened to what the voices had to say. Straightening her spine, she regarded the doctor coldly. “Stop where you are.”
“Why? I won’t hurt you.”
“Liar. Did you forget?” She smiled at him, a knowing smile that made him falter. “I hear voices, and they don’t like you.”
“Smart spirits,” replied the doctor and he threw something at her face, something that burned and made her drop to her knees with a cry.
Wrenching hands pulled her arms behind her back and bound them.
“There’s no use calling out. The sun hasn’t quite set yet, and I’ve taken care of the staff,” taunted Dr. Peters.
Ella cried out anyway. “Zane!”
Dr. Peters slapped her across the face, cutting her lip. Ella could taste blood in her mouth, and it hurt, but she could also sense her power coiling as she and her little friends upstairs got mad.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a low voice, pulling in more of the power, the voices cheering and babbling in her mind.
For a moment, she thought she’d won, but with a chilling smile, Dr. Peters pulled out a lighter and flicked it. The flame burned steadily and as she watched, almost hypnotized, the doctor, pulled out a bottle with a rag stuck in it.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously, a sickening dread in her stomach.
“Fight me and this Molotov cocktail gets lit and thrown in the house,” he said tilting his head towards the open patio door. “What do you think will kill him first? Smoke inhalation? Or will he burn to death?”
“No, don’t.” Ella held out her hands beseechingly. “I’ll go with you, just put the fire out.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” boomed Zane’s voice as he stood in the shadow of the door.
* * * *
Zane wanted to bellow and curse at the predicament they found themselves in. He’d heard Ella’s cry for help even as he slept. He’d woken instantly and known she faced danger. But watching the unfolding scene, he burned with helpless anger for the menace threatening his love lay out of his reach in dratted sunlight. He tried to take a step forward. Instantly burning pain sizzled through his body and his exposed skin smoked.
“Zane, no,” Ella cried. Hissing, Zane took a step back, cursing his impotence.
The man, whom Zane assumed to be the doctor who’d come sniffing around earlier, smiled nastily. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Ella.” He used one hand to pat her on the head where she knelt and the foolish girl didn’t look scared, she looked pissed.
A look that turned into rage when the puny man lit a bottle and threw it at the house.
Zane wasn’t stupid. He knew what a Molotov cocktail looked like. He let the flaming bottle crash over his head, not crazy enough to catch the bottle that would explode. He called out to Hendricks whom he sensed entering the room, out of breath as if he’d run.
“Get the extinguisher.” Because I’m getting Ella, daylight or not.
But in the seconds he’d been distracted, Ella had taken matters into her own hands—
ghostly ones. Screaming in rage, she stood with her hands free while her hair floated in a halo around her head. Even more amazing, she floated a few inches off the ground.
Zane’s heart almost burst with love and his cock with lust, as his moonbeam, energized by her soul companions and looking like an absolute goddess of vengeance, lifted the doctor up kicking and screaming.
“How.” She took a step towards him her eyes glowing translucently. “Dare.”
Another step. “You try to hurt Zane!” She shouted. A flick of her hands and the doctor flew backwards and hit the wall beside the door with a crash. Snaking an arm out and swallowing at the burning pain, Zane snagged the limp form of the doctor and held him up with a snarl.
“You shouldn’t have touched her,” he said simply and with his other hand, he slashed the good doctor’s throat and tossed him to the side.
The he held his arms open for the frail form that hurtled into them.