Blood Rites: (Royal Blood #3) Page 10

  I stepped into my shoes and went for my phone and purse.

  “Don’t be too long,” he said, not attempting to hide the worry in his voice.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” I said, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “And Hawkes will be with me the whole time. I’m sure I’ll be needing another shower when I get back.”

  A lazy grin pulled at Vaughn’s lips. “One can never be too clean.”

  “Miss Lansford.”

  I smiled at Hawkes as he held the door open to a sleek, black sedan parked out the front of Vaughn’s house in Bloomsbury. I glanced back at the man himself, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a sly smile on his lips.

  Shaking my head, I slid into the back of the car and the door closed. As we drove away, I waved, already missing Vaughn way more than was sane for a two week long relationship. Especially one with as many drama laden secrets as ours.

  I turned my attention to the road ahead, my gaze crossing Hawkes in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t see his expression from the back, but I’m sure it was all kinds of burly and impassive. He seemed just as professional as his boss was.

  “Have you known Vaughn long?” I asked, wondering if the beefy bodyguard would give me the inside scoop.

  Hawkes glanced at me in the mirror, then back to the road. “A long time, Miss Lansford.”

  I wondered how far I could push it. “Do you trust him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes.”

  I frowned. So, not talking then.

  “He doesn’t lie, Miss Lansford.”

  Yeah, I got it. “He just doesn’t tell the entire truth.”

  He shook his head slightly, but didn’t reply. Vaughn obviously commanded a great deal of respect from the man and from overhearing my father talk over the years, I knew it was a great quality to have.

  Hawkes pulled the car up out the front of my apartment and turned the engine off. I didn’t need much, just my work laptop, toiletries and some clothes. I’d be out in twenty minutes, then Hawkes would come to the gallery with me. It’d be okay. Vaughn said it would be okay.

  Hawkes was tough stuff, apparently.

  I went to open the door, but it was locked. Glancing up at Hawkes he nodded, his gaze connecting with mine in the rearvision mirror.

  “Please wait in the car, Miss Lansford. I will escort you inside.”

  “Is it really that bad?” I asked, my brows knitting together in a frown.

  “I don’t want to take any chances,” he replied.

  “Who are they? The men who threatened Vaughn?”

  Hawkes glanced away. “That’s not for me to say, Miss Lansford.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve been advised to use lethal force and I will be by your side at all times.”

  Lethal force. It was bad then.

  Hawkes slid out of the car and rounded the hood before opening my door. Stepping out, I glanced up and down the street, suddenly feeling exposed. It didn’t seem real while I was with Vaughn, but now…I was on edge, the seriousness of my predicament sinking into every pore. I was in the shit, big time. I should be mad with Vaughn, I should be ripping him to shreds or calling the cops, but I was trusting him, falling for him…loving him.

  You’re bloody crazy, Lorelei, I thought. Absolutely bloody bananas.

  “I will enter the house first, Miss Lansford.” Hawkes held out his hand for my keys and I dropped them into his palm. “Please stay close.”

  I nodded and followed him to the door. As he placed the key into the lock, there was a loud squeal of types and I spun with a gasp as two black sedans pulled up and armed men swarmed out onto the footpath.

  I was frozen to the spot, shaking like a leaf, heart pounding. That’s when Hawkes stepped in front of me and drew his gun from the holster at his side. Were these the men Vaughn was trying to protect me from?

  The sound of multiple guns cocking brought me to life and I turned, making a run for the door. My fingers fumbled with the key, trying to turn it so I could escape inside. There was no other way to go but in and find a way out the other side. Fuck, were they going to kidnap me? Kill me? What about Hawkes? My fingers slipped, the keys falling from the lock and clattering to the ground.

  That’s when a loud bang ripped through the air as a gun went off and I turned just in time to see Hawkes jerk and fall to his knees. They’d shot him, they’d shot him…

  “Hawkes!” I shrieked as something dark was yanked down over my face. I thrashed, trying to kick and punch anything that came within striking distance, but it was futile. Arms held me tight as I was hauled through the air and tossed down onto something hard. There was the sound of a car door closing and boots thumping on the ground outside.

  I tried to rip the hood from over my head, but I was pinned down by another set of hands. They’d kidnapped me! Hawkes could be dead…bleeding out on the footpath…

  “Let me go!” I yelled, my heart thundering. “I’ll kill you!”

  There was a sharp pinch as a needle punctured my arm and I kicked out, my feet connecting with nothing but air. I was pulled upwards and held tightly against someone’s chest, arms around me, pinning my limbs in place. I struggled at first, but my movements became sluggish and I was disoriented by the darkness.

  Vaughn…

  As the drugs took hold, I slackened, my limbs feeling like air.

  Vaughn, where are you? Vaughn…

  I was going to die, wasn’t I? This was it. This was how it was going to end. I wasn’t going to die of old age in the arms of my husband, I was going to kick the bucket in the back of some psychopath’s van.

  I tried to hold on, but consciousness wasn’t in my control, and I slipped away into darkness.

  It wasn’t until that moment, when everything went quiet, the moment right before I slipped away, that I realized the men hadn’t uttered a single word.

  Sixteen

  Vaughn

  Hawkes was meant to contact me the moment they arrived at the gallery, but it was ten past nine and nothing.

  I paced back and forth across my office, from the bookcase to the window, my anxiety levels rising. I should’ve gone with her.

  My phone began to ring and I sighed in relief. Sinking into the chair, I picked it up. “Hawkes?”

  “Vaughn.” He sounded breathless and panicked. I jerked out of the chair, standing tall.

  “What’s happened?” I barked.

  “I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. They shot me…”

  “Fuck,” I roared, pacing back and forth, my heart beating painfully. I drew in a deep breath. “Were you wearing your vest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see who they were?” I didn’t have to ask that question, I already knew, but I wanted faces, names, a list to execute.

  “Necromancers. They were gone before I could drag myself to the car… I didn't have a chance at following them.”

  “Lorelei?”

  “They hooded her and threw her in the back of a car. She’s gone…”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I began pacing again, running my hand over my face.

  “Sir…”

  I waited, not trusting myself not to say something I’d later regret.

  “I’m sorry. I failed you.”

  My jaw tensed. “Come back to the house. When we get Sykes’ demands we will paint the streets with his blood.” I disconnected the call and tossed the phone on the desk.

  Caring for her, loving her and knowing that Sykes had taken her to fuck knows where…it was doing dangerous things to my temper.

  What was I going to do? I could wait for Sykes’ terms, negotiate her release, or I could go right for the jugular. Kill him before he could even think about touching her. Assassins didn’t exactly grow on trees. Who did I know… There was one man who might be willing to get me what I wanted for the right price. Xavier Blood.

  They said he was just another lackey in Royal Blood’s
army of biker thugs, but he had a dark reputation. He was cold, calculating and much too intelligent to be running with those dumb fucks. On the few occasions I’d met him, he’d struck me as the type of man who was capable of absolutely anything. He had to be something else…something more. It was no secret that they had their own hitman, an assassin of high ability…a ghost. Many suspected, but nobody but a handful knew of his true identity.

  To me, it was clear. Xavier Blood was Royal Blood’s weapon of choice.

  I dialed the number and a moment later, he answered.

  “Blood.”

  “It’s Vaughn.”

  Silence. “What do you want?” That’s the thing I liked about X. He got to the point with no piss-farting about and in my current state, I needed the point.

  “I want Sykes dead and you're going to do it for me.”

  “In what world is that a good idea?” he asked.

  “C’mon,” I hissed, “I’m smart enough to know who you are, X.”

  “Do I have to do something about that?” The threat was clear in his voice.

  “He has something of mine and I want it back.”

  X was silent for so long, I wasn’t sure he was still there. Then he asked, “Something or someone?”

  “Will you help me or not?”

  “You know I can’t, Vaughn. I’m Royal Blood. If I took out the Necromancer’s top dog, I’d be in a hole next to him. You’re on your own.”

  I thumped my fist down on the desktop, rattling the entire thing as the line disconnected. I was in this on my own then. Me and Hawkes.

  The office door opened and Hawkes strode in, the hole in the front of his shirt indicating that he had indeed been shot and at close range too.

  “Talk to me, Hawkes,” I said thinly.

  “They ambushed us out the front of Miss Lansford’s apartment,” he explained. He winced slightly as he sat, the only indication that he was hurting. That bullet must've hurt like a bitch. “Two black sedans and at least eight men.” He didn’t have chance. “I stepped in front of her and she went for the door, but they didn’t hesitate. They shot me point-blank and grabbed her. By the time I managed to get to my feet, they were already pulling away from the footpath. I got in six shots.” He shook his head.

  Hawkes was made of tough stuff. He was ex-military with a long string of heroic accomplishments and a loyalty that was unfaltering. I knew it had taken a great deal for him to even stand after taking a hit that close. He should be at a hospital, but even he knew that hospitals meant unwanted attention. It was in their jurisdiction to contact the police if anyone set foot inside the ER with a gunshot wound and police all over this wasn't what we needed right now. This had to be dealt with under the radar.

  “Sir?”

  I glanced at Hawkes, my lips thin. “There was nothing you could’ve done. We couldn't have anticipated such a strong response so soon.” I contemplated asking him if he needed medical attention for a single beat before dismissing it. Hawkes knew when to call it and me asking would hurt his pride.

  “Has he made contact?”

  As if on cue, my phone started to ring. Glancing at the screen, I held up a finger to silence Hawkes. It was Sykes.

  I accepted the call and snapped, “Where is the girl?”

  “I’m going to talk, Mr. Vaughn, and you’re going to listen,” Sykes drawled.

  I tensed, wishing he was right in front of me so I could shred the life from his body with my bare hands.

  “I have your woman. You’ll get her back if you do what I say. No deviations, no double-crosses.”

  “I want her back unharmed,” I hissed, leveling my gaze at Hawkes.

  “I’ll give her back to you in whatever condition I choose,” Sykes replied. “The quicker you comply, the more pristine she will be.”

  He was talking about Lorelei like she was a thing, a commodity. This was a man who was trying to break into the human trafficking trade which meant that he was capable of doing anything to her. Fuck, no…I couldn’t bare to think of him taking her and leading her into that kind of life… I wouldn’t allow it.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I hissed.

  “Everything that is yours, Mr. Vaughn.”

  I stilled, my blood running cold.

  “The terms have been sent to your email.” The line went dead and I tightened my fist around the phone, my rage simmering.

  Hawkes narrowed his eyes. “What are his terms?”

  I set the phone down, my hands shaking. I wanted to burn the world to get her back. Burn it with Sykes tied to the pyre, right in the fucking center.

  “Everything,” I murmured. “He wants everything.”

  My kingdom for Lorelei.

  Seventeen

  Lorelei

  At first all I could see was darkness.

  My limbs ached, my head felt like it was clogged with cotton wool and my tongue felt thick, like it wasn’t my own.

  I groaned, rolling onto my side. The ground was hard and cold, concrete, and I shivered violently.

  There was a click and light flooded my surroundings, overwhelming my senses. I blinked furiously, trying to make sense of where I was so I could plan my escape, but the moment I realized what was waiting for me, I wish I had of kept them closed.

  A man was staring down at me, his expression cold. His face was pockmarked with scars, his hair gray and stringy. He wore navy overalls and his hands were clad in latex gloves. He looked like he was about to paint a room and in a way, I suspected he was.

  Alarm bells began ringing in my mind and my body took flight, scrambling backward across the concrete. I hit a wall and scrambled, terror overtaking any kind of coherency I might’ve been able to scrape together. I was going to die and I was going to die horribly.

  It was enough to terrify even the most sane of people.

  Who was I? Just a rich little girl who fell in love with a criminal mastermind with a list of enemies longer than his arm.

  “Who are you?” I croaked, my throat feeling raw and painful.

  “It doesn't matter what my name is,” the man said, his voice rasping like he'd had one too many cigarettes. “If you wish to call me something, you can refer to me as The Watchman.”

  This wasn’t happening. My gaze darted furiously around the room. There was a chair with straps in the middle, a table to one side and chains. Chains with hooks hanging from the ceiling, like we were in some kind of perverted meat locker. A psychopath, a serial killer, a sick and twisted masochist had kidnapped me.

  I felt tears streaming down my cheeks as terror took hold of me with steadfast iron claws.

  The outside door opened and two men walked in and grasped my arms. I began to thrash violently, but they didn’t seem to care as they slammed me down into the chair.

  “No!” I shrieked. “What did I do to you? Let me go! Please, let me go!”

  The Watchman ignored my pleas and began strapping my arms and legs, securing me to my fate. I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t win…I had to keep trying… Vaughn would come. Vaughn would save me. Vaughn.

  Once I was secure, the two men left, leaving me with The Watchman and his table of tools. He lingered a moment before selecting a scalpel from the tray at one end. He was going to cut me open, bleed me, hurt me.

  “You belong to me now,” he said, standing over me. “The sooner you accept the pain, the sooner it will be over.”

  “No.” I shook my head desperately as he approached, the silver blade in his hand. Sleek, sharp, deadly…

  “Accept it.” He lowered the blade.

  And I screamed and screamed until I could no longer recognize my own voice.

  Eighteen

  Vaughn

  The instructions were clear and so was my response.

  I was in love with Lorelei Lansford and I would tear the world apart to get her back.

  Hawkes drove us through the streets of London with me up front, all sense of boundaries, refinement and class that I usually adhered to, thrown totall
y out the window. It was dark out, the orange glow of the streetlights around us casting everything in an otherworldly glow.

  We were to meet Sykes and his man at a warehouse in Vauxhall, no back up, no weapons, no authorities. Just myself and an extra man and the same went for him. I had a package to deliver and so did he. The exchange would be quick and simple and it would all be over in the space of thirty minutes. We would both walk away with what we wanted and what we did after that was up to us.

  What I was going to do was go back for Sykes' head.

  Finally, Hawkes pulled us up into the lot of a warehouse on a quiet service road. There was one other car, but other than that, the whole place looked disused and deserted. The perfect place for a lot of nasty shit to go down.

  I climbed out of the car, hauling the briefcase with me.

  Hawkes appeared at my side, rubbing his chest. I’m sure he had a motherfucking massive bruise from his morning gunshot, but we didn’t have time to deal with it.

  “I’ll have eyes on his man,” he said. “We’ll follow the protocol and Miss Lansford will be escorted straight to the safe house.”

  I knew he was setting it all out for me in simple terms. If I kept my mind on a schedule, I was less likely to fly off the handle which I would at the slightest provocation. I was on a knife’s edge.

  Earlier, I’d arranged a safe haven for us outside of London, on the outer edges of Brighton, near the coast. If need be, we could cross the channel into France and beyond until things died down. I’d never let her out of my sight again after this was over. Lorelei was my world, my everything.

  I nodded curtly and crossed the yard to the door of the warehouse. The door was ajar, light streaming from inside, the silhouette of a man fanning out onto the concrete. Sykes’ goon, most likely.

  The guy nodded as we approached. “Arms up,” he commanded and proceeded to check us for concealed weapons, patting me down first, then Hawkes. Once he was satisfied, he jerked his head to the hall behind him. “Door on the right. No funny business.”

  Glaring at him, I shoved past, our shoulders slamming together, and strode down the hall. Without hesitation, I walked into the room and the moment I laid eyes on Sykes, an inferno of rage boiled inside of me.