HunterUndone Page 15

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her just how crazy he was about her. To tell her she wasn’t getting rid of his grumpy, slightly psychotic ass without a crowbar and banishing spell. But Leith chose that moment to slow the Suburban down and pull over. In the far back seat, Garret leaned forward, while Deacon twisted in the passenger seat.

  “It’s not a barn.” Deacon said.

  “All right.” Tyler was vaguely aware of Shay’s hand wrapping around his. “So, what is it?”

  Without breaking eye contact, Deke rattled off the address of the last house Tyler had lived in with his mother. “Jackson’s owned it for thirty years. He’s the one who rented it to your mother.”

  It should have surprised him. He sure as hell didn’t believe in coincidences, but three more disappearances and Jackson’s own mention of Gemma had destroyed any misconception about what had happened to her back then.

  Shay squeezed his hand. “Ty— “

  “It’s fine.” He nodded as he cut her off, squeezing her waist in apology. “It explains the scorched earth of the yard.”

  Only black death magic could leave a yard that decimated.

  Because they were still a quarter mile from the house, they unloaded the SUV, and gathered around the hood. Unable let her go, Shay stood in front of him, his arm still wrapped possessively around her waist. His chin alternated between resting on her shoulder, and on the top of her head.

  Deacon folded his arms on the hood and concentrated on Shay. “You said they’re all in one cage?” His voice was measured, almost calm, but there was a time bomb behind his eyes just waiting to be shown the target, and Tyler was worried if they didn’t point him in that direction soon, he’d self-destruct and they’d lose him.

  Shay bobbed her head. “I think it was the basement, because it was one giant, dark room.” She glanced at all of them, before tilting her head back to look up at Tyler. “Jackson needs them to maintain his strength, but that doesn’t make him weak. He’s not going to give up his immortality easy.”

  Tyler nodded. “They never do.” On the other side of the truck, Leith was meticulously checking weapons before strapping them on. “I’ll go in through the front door. Cause enough chaos to distract whatever demons are guarding the place.”

  Garret crossed his arms over his chest. “Give me some weapons, and I’ll cover the garage.” When they all just blinked at him, he braced his hands on the hood and leaned forward, snarling. “They have Ivy. I’m not fucking sitting this one out and twiddling my fucking thumbs. You brought me because you need me, so use me. And we don’t have time to argue about it, so get the hell over it.”

  Deacon scrubbed both hands over his face before he nodded. “Then the three of us—me, Tyler and Shay—will go in through the back. Use the distractions to get us to the basement. Shay can get them out while Tyler and I take care of any stragglers.”

  A low, vicious sound rumbled in Tyler’s chest. “And just so there’s no question about it, that fucktard Jackson is mine. Unless he’s getting ready to poof into thin fucking air, no one touches him. Got it?” He waited while they all nodded, before stepping back. “Alright, let’s do this.”

  ***

  As they cut through the neighborhood, Shay couldn’t stop staring up at Tyler. Despite his complete and utter focus on the houses and shadows around them, he was constantly touching her somehow. A brush of his leg on hers, a quick squeeze of her fingertips, and a gentle nudging of his body against hers.

  Everything inside of her wanted to launch at him, tackle him to the ground, and let him fill her up again right there in the middle of the road, not because she was wet and achy, but because she was afraid. For her, and for him. When he wrapped that powerful body around her, she knew she was the safest she could ever be.

  “Shay.” Leith’s cold voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she realized for the first time that they were just a house over from Tyler’s old one. “When you and the women are clear, get them the fuck out of here. Go straight to the hospital. We’ll meet you there.”

  Tyler pressed a set of keys into her palm. “There’s enough cars around here. If we need to, we’ll boost one and worry about getting it back to the owner tomorrow. Just get to the hospital and stay together until we find you.”

  Tyler squeezed her hand once, before they all turned as a unit toward the house and moving off into their separate directions.

  Leith tossed a hornet’s nest grenade into the front window, lighting up the rundown neighborhood and shattering the stillness of the pre-dawn night. Screams of pain and rage echoed the small distance.

  Men poured out of the house, weapons at the ready and trained on Leith, who grinned like a madman. “Evening, gentlemen.” He raised his hands slowly. “Who’s ready to party? We’ll provide the bonfire…”

  In the shadows at the far side of the house, Garret tossed a match. The ramshackle, detached garage went up like tinder, flames licking skyward.

  . Drawn by the noise and fire, good Samaritan neighbors rushed out of their houses. Using the roar of the fire to cover the sound, Deacon broke through the back door. Three men were waiting, charging them like mindless beasts, their eyes glowing red.

  Knives at the ready, Tyler disposed of two of them with barely a flick of his wrist, and without making a sound. As they dropped, Tyler spun on his heel, grasping the third man by the shoulders. Deacon’s knife rammed home in his gut, slicing upward.

  As the man crumpled, Deacon moved in front of Shay while Tyler took up position right at her back, covering her from both sides. They headed for the basement door in the kitchen. Anxiety tightened her skin as they made their way down the stairs, dread settling like concrete in her belly. This was too easy. She felt it in her bones.

  Hoping it was just worry for her friends instead of a premonition, she held her breath. Deacon kicked open the door at the bottom of the stairs. When all that greeted them was absolute silence, he looked at them over his shoulder with what the fuck? written all over his face.

  Pulling the sawed-off shotgun he had strapped to his back over his shoulder, he took a breath and started into the dank space.

  Tyler wrapped his hand around her shoulder. His body pressed up to her back as he slipped a knife into her hand. “Put your back to the wall and stay here. Stab anything that gets close.”

  She glared at him as he physically moved her to where he wanted her, but she gripped his hand before he could follow Deacon.

  “Don’t go. Just wait.” Unable to help the distress in her voice, she swallowed hard. “Something isn’t right.”

  Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, under her hair, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Hard. “I know. I feel it, too.”

  She should have relaxed a little knowing he was on alert, but it didn’t. This was wrong.

  She knew the layout of the space from her dream. The stairs were on the far right side of the house and there was a wall at the bottom, which left only one way to go—left. The space opened, then, and the cage with her friends should be on the farthest wall from where she stood, with the altar between them.

  Realizing she should have told them about the layout, she took a step forward, prepared to yell for Tyler. Everything went dark. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face.

  Then the soul-destroying screaming started, a low, humming chanting pulsing underneath it.

  It came from everywhere, as if the sound filled the air itself, pressing down on her shoulders like a physical presence. Tyler shouted for her, but her name cut out on a roar, as if something had silenced him.

  Terror weakening her bones, she did the only thing she could think of—she started toward the room where Ty and Deke had entered. She didn’t know what she planned to do, just that she couldn’t stand there and wait for someone else to save her. Not when everyone she cared about was in this room, in danger.

  “See?” Jackson’s satisfied voice drifted over the screams. “I
told you she’d come rescue you.”

  There was a low sound that could only be Tyler cursing, before he growled. “Goddamn it, Shay. Run.”

  She shook her head, not caring that no one could see her in the absolute darkness. “Let him go, Jack. It’s me you want, right?”

  “It was, yes. But then you went and fucked this bottom-feeding hunter, so now I have to make him pay for sticking his dick in what’s mine.”

  Tyler snarled. “Oh, fuckhead, you are so goddamn dead.”

  Jackson’s laugh wasn’t tinged with madness—the insanity ran through it, twisting the sound into something horrific. “That’s original. And stupid, considering how vulnerable Shay and the other women are, and that I hold you and your little cop buddy’s hearts in my hands.”

  Hearts. Shay stopped her forward momentum. The reminder of her earlier dream about holding Tyler’s heart in her hand invaded her memory. Bile choked her.

  He was going to die because of her, and she had no power to stop it from happening.

  Her knees went weak. She started to drop to the floor and beg Jackson to let him go and do what he wanted to her. A blast of cold air hit her, so frigid her breath froze in her lungs.

  Her chin lifted. She stepped forward, her gaze finally adjusting to the blackness, just enough she could see the cage, and Deacon chained next to the wall next to it. “It’s me you want, Jackson. Let them all go, and I’ll stay with you forever. As long as you want me.”

  “The fuck you—” Tyler’s bellow cut off on a groan as the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated through the air.

  “It’s too late,” Jackson snapped. “You have nothing to bargain with. So I’m going to kill them all while you watch, and then I’ll live forever. And I’m going to start with your little fuck toy here.”

  He flicked his hand out, illuminating the space.

  Tyler spun on his heel and jammed both his knives into Jackson’s throat. Robed fingers came out of the shadows.

  Shay ran toward the cage.

  The robed figures swarmed Tyler. With a desperate glance at her friends huddled in the cage, Shay changed direction and went to help Deacon.

  One side of his face was swollen, his eye purple, but he grunted when she started tugging on his shackles. “Blood magic.”

  She blinked up at him as she tried uselessly to yank the iron from the wall. “What?”

  He dropped his head down as if it was too heavy for his neck to hold up. “He used blood to seal it.”

  Blood. Of course.

  Using the knife Tyler had given her, she cut into her palm and spread the blood over the runes scratched into the chains themselves. The chains snapped open. Deacon grabbed her knife and barreled past her to where Tyler took on the robed men.

  Hoping the same blood magic would work on the cage, she found the lock and smeared the sticky substance over it. She nearly shouted in victory as it snicked open.

  Instead of rushing out, Ivy looked up at Shay with tears in her eyes. “Come on, Malia’s hurt. Help us get her out.”

  In the back corner, Malia was crumpled on the floor, unconscious. Blood dripped slowly from a gash in her hairline, and her face was way too pale.

  Despite Malia’s small, delicate size, none of them were big enough to lift her, let alone carry her out. But with the sounds of battle still echoing through the basement, they didn’t have any other choice.

  “We have to carry her.” Swallowing hard, Shay grabbed her feet and nodded at Ivy and Hayden. “Hold her under the arms.”

  When her friends were in position, she nodded. They lifted her. Hunched in an awkward position, Shay backed out of the cage.

  They’d only taken a couple steps when Leith was suddenly there. His face was stricken as he gently lifted Malia into his arms, before he jerked his head toward the stairs. “Stay with me,” he snapped at them.

  Just as they reached the top of the stairs, Garret bellowed. “Wade, Stone, behind you!”

  Shay spun around. Gemma stood in the middle of the basement, between Tyler and the robed figures. Her arms were outstretched, but her eyes were locked on her son. The ground began to quake beneath their feet.

  Gemma nodded at Tyler, her eyes sad. “I love you. Now run!”

  They ran. Tyler swept Shay off her feet as he ran up the stairs, their friends on their heels. They’d barely made it over the threshold before the explosion rocked the foundation, sending them all flying.

  CHAPTER 21

  “All right, asshole, look.” Bracing his hands against the desk, Tyler leaned into the young doctor’s face and bared his teeth. “Tell me where she is, or I will start tearing down doors until I find her myself.”

  The charge nurse, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, took a step back, staring at him through fear-filled eyes. “You’re not a relative or spouse. I can’t release that information.”

  Nodding, Tyler moved to step around the nurse’s station, deliberately closing the distance between them. “Deacon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Give me your gun.”

  Instead of answer, Deacon sighed and gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him to a stop. “No killing the nice man, Wade.”

  “I’m not going to kill him.” Tyler smiled, so close to violence he could feel it boiling in his blood stream. “Just peel his skin from his bones.”

  “None of that, either.” Sighing, Deacon jerked his chin at the nurse, who’d somehow even gone more wide-eyed. Christ, how old was this idiot? “I’m Chief Stone. This is a police matter, so I’d appreciate it if you could just tell me what room Shay Evernight is in.”

  Looking like he was about to piss his pants, the nurse kept as much distance as possible between himself and Tyler as he cautiously moved to the first desktop computer.

  After a few keystrokes, he swallowed hard and nodded. “Room 211. She’s in the ICU.”

  Tyler staggered backward, sure someone had just reached in and physically removed his heart from his chest. Vaguely aware of Deacon thanking the doctor, Tyler took off at a dead run for the stairs, too impatient to wait for an elevator.

  Not particularly caring that he scared the nurses as he crashed through the door on the second floor, he shouted the room number and was already running toward it when one of them pointed him in the right direction.

  God, what the hell had he missed? And how the fuck could he have failed this badly? She’d been fine when they’d all gotten to the hospital, and she’d gone with Ivy and Hayden to get Malia checked out, while Tyler had reluctantly stayed downstairs with Deacon to get their stories straight.

  But then they’d all come back down together, minus Malia, who was being kept overnight for observation, and Shay. Tyler had lost his fucking mind.

  How many goddamn times was he going to have to do this? Let her out of his sight, only to find out he’d fucked up and she’d gotten hurt when he should have been there to protect her?

  He slowed to a stop outside her room and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe evenly. No matter what the fuck he found on the other side of the door, he wasn’t going to lose his shit. She didn’t need him in psychotic, kill everything mode.

  But, Christ, he wasn’t even sure he had other modes at the moment.

  As he reached for the door handle, he braced for the worst. The door swung open before he could even touch it, and he stood there like an idiot.

  Shay blinked up at him, concern darkening her beautiful face. “Ty? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  He let out a harsh sound. “I have.” He scowled and took a step toward her, crowding her space and backing her into the room. “You look fine.”

  This time, it was temper that lit in her eyes. “Well, thanks. You look fine, too.”

  Ignoring that, he moved in even closer, then kicked the door shut behind him. “Where are you hurt? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

  “Hey.” She frowned up at hi
m and slowly lifted her hand. A white bandage had been wrapped around it, but as far as he could tell, it was the only wound on her. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “Then why the fuck are you in the ICU?”

  She blinked, before the clouds cleared in her eyes, replaced with emotion.

  “Oh, Ty,” she murmured, moving into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m fine, really. I got a little lightheaded from the blood loss while the doctor was examining Malia, and they just gave me a room nearby to stitch me up.”

  He wanted to believe her, but his brain wouldn’t kick in to gear. “Don’t lie to me, gypsy.”

  “Please.” She placed her free hand on his chest and pushed, giving him no choice but to fall back into the room’s only chair. Without saying anything, she placed her knees on either side of his thighs and braced her hands against the back of the chair, near his shoulders. Leaning forward, she pressed her brow to his. “I can’t keep secrets from you. Haven’t you figured that out? I can’t even keep my emotions from you. I don’t know how you do it, but whenever you’re near, the last thing I want is to hide. And I hate it. I hate it, because this isn’t me. Or, it’s not supposed to be me. I’ve never given control of my emotions over to anyone, let alone my heart, but I can’t seem to stop doing it.”

  “I don’t know what the hell any of that means.”

  To his surprise, a laugh bubbled out of her and for the first time in more than twenty-four hours, that smile he loved so much lit up her face. “It means I’m not lying. It means you’ve got me where you want me, so now the only question is what the hell you’re going to do with me. Just be aware, I don’t intend to let you out of my sight, ever.”

  Not sure what was harder in that moment, the pounding of his heart or his dick, he cupped her ass and searched her face. “You scare me, gypsy, but God, I love you.”