Undiscovered Angel Page 10

  “My sister, Callista.” Kat hadn’t heard Alec come up behind her. She jumped guiltily and snapped the album closed.

  “Sorry,” he smiled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “No, it’s fine. I didn’t hear you. I was being nosy, I guess. I came in to look for a book and found the album. She’s beautiful.” Why hadn’t Kassian mentioned that he had a sister?

  “Yeah, she was.”

  “What are you doing out of bed, anyway? I would really hate to have to explain to your brother when he comes home and finds you in a heap on the floor. You should have called me if you needed something.” Shouldn’t he be pale and weak looking? He actually looked remarkably recovered and…virile. Her eyes darted to the bandages on his side. There was no evidence of blood seeping through. Before she had time to think or protest, he tore them off and tossed them in the wastebasket. Where the horrible gash had been, only an angry-looking pink line remained.

  “I guess Tall, Dark, and Ugly wasn’t kidding when he said you were a quick healer.”

  “Dimitri? Don’t let him hear you say that; he thinks he’s quite a ladies’ man.”

  “Well, I guess it depends on your definition of a lady.”

  “You don’t seem very surprised to see me up and about.”

  “After the day I’ve had, I’m not sure much of anything could surprise me.” She smiled ruefully. “But maybe you should go back to bed; it looked like you lost a lot of blood. I could get you something to eat if you’re hungry? There’s some leftover Chinese. I’d be happy to heat it up.”

  Alec shook his head and lowered himself stiffly into one of the leather chairs and patted the seat of the other, inviting her to do the same. She perched on the edge, eyeing him cautiously. Alec McAllister was a truly beautiful man. Tall, broad, and well-muscled like his brother, he had a mass of thick, dark curls, piercing blue eyes, and deep dimples when he smiled as he was doing now. Curiously, while she could admire his prettiness, she didn’t feel the least bit physically attracted.

  “I’m good for now...maybe in a while. So what’s the story with you and my brother?”

  “Well, that’s kind of a personal question to ask someone you just met,” she replied cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

  “Couple of reasons. One, I wanted to know if you were available.” He laughed when she blushed uncomfortably. “But mostly, because you make him laugh. I haven’t heard him laugh in a very long time. It’s nice to see him happy.”

  Kat hesitated, unsure how to answer. What was the story with her and Kassian McAllister? He didn’t think she was a freak. That alone was enough to win him some points. Being with Kassian gave her a peace she’d hardly ever known in her life. She didn’t feel different with him, she felt…at home. She felt an almost unnatural attraction toward him. One look from him could turn her bones to butter. But she was only here because he felt responsible for her and though he seemed to like her well enough, he hadn’t given her any indication that he felt any real attraction to her since that first kiss when she’d awakened in his bed.

  “I’m not sure.” She answered honestly, at last. “We’ve only just met, actually.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “So, I...um, gather that your brother wasn’t expecting you?”

  “You picked up on that, huh? Smart girl. I heard Jacques was back skulking around; I wasn’t about to sit on my hands this time and do nothing no matter what my brother said. It was more…expedient not to let him know about it ahead of time.” He flashed those deadly dimples again.

  “I gather Jacques isn’t a very popular guy?”

  “That doesn’t even begin to cover it, sweetness.” Alec flashed his teeth, but the smile had no humor in it.

  “But why? I mean aside from the obvious fact that he’s a conscienceless serial killer,” she added quickly. “Your brother…you all… seem to have some personal stake in this. He told me the murder last night was a message for him.”

  Alec took a deep breath and rubbed a hand wearily over his face. It was obviously not a topic he was comfortable with. “I guess in human terms, Rapier might be considered a sociopath,” he began slowly. “Back then, it was known as moral insanity. Fallen are evil by nature, but usually with some self-serving purpose…Rapier has a complete lack of regard for any moral or legal standards…not society’s, not even those of the Fallen, such as they are. He was someone that probably tortured small animals as a kid for no other reason than because he could. No sympathy, no remorse, an overdeveloped sense of entitlement and invincibility…completely oblivious to the devastation he causes, unwilling to accept blame…well, you get the picture.”

  Kat nodded, and gripped the arms of the chair, bracing herself. She tried to read him but he had his blocks firmly in place. Curious, she followed the pattern. It was different from Kassian’s and unlike anything she had tried herself and she made note of it. Still, her empathy felt the anger and grief coming off of him in waves. Between that and the look in Alec’s eyes, she knew whatever was coming wouldn’t be pretty.

  “Rapier had a twin brother, Jean-Marc. If there was anyone on the planet Jacques cared for, anyone who was able to control Jacques at all, it was him. He knew what Jacques was capable of, but he thought he could keep him on a tight enough leash, keep him out of trouble. But, Jacques was clever and managed to get away from him and that was when the Whitechapel killings began. The Rapier brothers were hundreds of years older than any of us, so I’m sure it wasn’t the first time Jacques went on a killing spree; but it was the first time he’d crossed paths with Kassian.”

  Alec stood and began pacing the confines of the office restlessly. Kat sat quietly, waiting patiently for him to continue. She’d figured out earlier that this wasn’t Kassian’s first run-in with Rapier, but a knot of dread had begun to settle in her stomach as Alec talked. Whatever had happened back then was much more personal to Kassian than she had imagined.

  “Anyway,” Alec continued, stopping with his back to her and looking out the windows into the darkness. “We all knew that he needed to be stopped. Callista was distraught because all of the women he killed had frequented her shelter, House of Angels, at one time or another and she felt responsible, which was ridiculous, but that was our Calli.” His short laugh was bitter. “She was a lot like Kass in that way. Jean-Marc was desperate to find Jacques and get him back under lock and key before the Defensori found him, or someone among the Fallen decided to take him out on their own. He wasn’t exactly keeping a low profile and it called attention to those who would have preferred to fly under the radar. Jean-Marc found his brother at Miller’s Court about the same time the Defensori did. In the ensuing battle, Jean-Marc was killed; at the end of Kassian’s sword. Jacques went wild. I guess he cared for Jean-Marc as much as it was possible for him to care about anyone, and he swore vengeance. Callista, stubborn female that she was, made it easier than it ever should have been. Kass had ordered her to stay home, behind locked doors, protected by guards and sigils, but as soon as he left, she found a way to sneak out and tried to make her way to the shelter. At least, we think that’s where she was headed. I guess she thought she could help, but honestly, I don’t know what she was thinking going off on her own like that. She never was cut out to be the properly obedient Victorian lady.” Alec sighed sadly. “She should have trusted that Kass and Luca knew what they were doing. When they got back she was gone. No one had seen her. She never made it to the shelter. Kass knew how stubborn and determined Calli could be and he’s blamed himself for what happened ever since.”

  “Oh my God, Rapier killed her,” Kat whispered in horror. Her chest ached with Alec’s grief.

  Kat held her breath waiting for the answer. They both knew the cruelty Rapier was capable of; and it had been over a hundred years. Alec turned back to Kat with a look of despair etched deeply in his beautiful face.

  “God, I hope so.”

  Chapter 7

  Jacques Rapier was a creature of the dark. He lived for it,
breathed it, and embraced it. Tonight, once again he’d been a faceless prowler of the night lounging against the cold stone of the art deco building, indistinguishable from the shadows that concealed him. He was hungry for the thrill and hoped the whore would be leaving soon; he had been patient for so long, and patience was not an attribute that came easily to him. As if she heard his silent command, there was an increased volume of slurred shouts and laughter across the way heralding the opening of the door of the after-hours bar across the street. His red eyes narrowed to speculative slits. Finally! It wasn’t the one he’d been waiting for; he preferred brunettes, but it was getting late. The blonde would have to do. He pushed all other thoughts aside, growled in satisfaction and anticipation…and melted into the shadows in her wake.

  Jacques relished the sound of the rasping breath in the darkness as the woman realized that she was being followed and quickened her pace. He smiled delightedly as he scented the sickly tang of terror. Those arrogant Defensori thought they knew him; thought they understood him. It amused him to no end that McAllister thought he wouldn’t be able to resist making an appearance when the modern day House of Angels was dedicated. It was such an obvious in-your-face ploy that Jacques had been more entertained than tempted. The publicity blitz put on by McAllister Publishing for that silly woman’s book was yet another poorly concealed attempt to bait him. He’d been such a good boy for so long. It was time to show McAllister that the Defensori were no closer to catching him now than they had been a century ago. He was smarter than all of them and he would always elude them. Killing McAllister would be too easy; no, he wanted him to suffer. He had planned to tweak McAllister’s rage and then resume a low profile to emphasize the fact that he could. But it was turning out to be so much more of a rush than he remembered, and now it looked like McAllister might have even more to lose. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the Shephard woman. After he had his fun with her, he would conveniently disappear again, leaving McAllister to marinate in his misery and his failure.

  He turned to the young blonde who now shivered in terror against the packing crates. The disturbance above was getting closer. He lived for the anticipation, but it was time to begin if he didn’t want the evening to be a complete waste of his time. Jacques loved the delicious thrill of death. A slice to the throat to silence the voice, slick and clean and only deep enough to postpone the inevitable while watching the fear growing in the eyes as life slowly ebbed through the garish necklace he so lovingly bestowed. A few stabs, not too deep at first, but sufficient to cause pain and heighten the terror. The adrenaline rush was without equal. The best ones were the ones who died slowly, pain and terror mounting as he savored the catch of cold steel segmenting cartilage and bone, carving through the skin. The worst ones ruined his fun in minutes, bleeding out too quickly or taken by the terror before he had a chance to enjoy himself. His eyes took on a demonic, red glow as he reached for the terrified girl, his blade winking wickedly in the dim light. It was important to him that McAllister know that he had been oh, so close, but too late once again. He was a little annoyed that he would have to hurry with this one, but her death was really little more than another turn of the screw and he knew it was only a matter of time until he could satisfy his hunger again.

  ****

  Kassian and Luca materialized almost simultaneously behind the House of Angels, regaining solid form under a cold drizzle that was valiantly trying to turn to snow. The shelter was quiet, with only the faint glow of a nightlight burning in the hallway on the second floor. The building itself was well protected with sigils, so the sleeping inhabitants were safe for the evening. Dimitri was already waiting. He and Galen had taken the liberty of vaporizing the animorti that had been killed earlier before returning to Kassian’s with Alec; all that remained was a tell-tale trail of inky slime left involuntarily by the few that had gotten away. The alley was dark, cast into the deep shadows of the surrounding buildings and ripe with the odors of alcohol, urine, and cheap, stale sex. An icy breeze came out of nowhere, ruffling orphaned newspaper pages and empty plastic wrappers and dispelling the odors for a few brief moments.

  Dimitri took the lead as they set off in the direction the escaping animorti had taken. Though large, the Defensori were used to secrecy and concealment. They moved with stealth, their black-leather-clad bodies blending into the dark, using the shadows for cover, and becoming part of them. No one paid attention. People of the night weren’t exactly the upstanding law-abiding sort who wanted to call any more attention to themselves than necessary. These were the miscreants and malcontents, the seedy looking for the seedier, a subculture of society who were greedy for sin and ready to roll. They were happy to remain anonymous and generally looked the other way regarding anything that didn’t directly involve them.

  The warriors followed the faint trail through the alley until they felt the pin pricks racing along their nerves, a sure sign they were getting close to something unsavory. Shrinking back against the rough caress of the brick building, Kassian eased forward to peer around the corner. Two Fallen stood facing in his general direction, heavy boots planted on top of the rusted metal doors of a backstreet freight elevator. Well, what have we here? They’d been expecting animorti. Killing a few soulless sponges was exactly what Kassian needed to take the edge off. The opportunity to take out a few Fallen was a bonus he hadn’t dreamed of.

  Kassian felt a black aura of barely suppressed rage surrounding him and his lips stretched taut in a lethal smile. He was more than ready for the fight. These two were connected to Rapier; they had to be. It was too much of a coincidence that they were here at the end of the animorti’s trail. He withdrew the long deadly blade from his back and silently opened his sleeves as he discerned Luca with a dagger already in his hand and an expression on his face that could freeze molten lava. The muscles in Kassian’s arms twitched in anticipation. Dimitri had circled around the building to come in from the other direction and do some recon. They didn’t want any unexpected surprises.

  Dimitri sent the message that he was in position and they began to move in, nothing more than deep shadows in denser darkness, yet the two guards had become visibly edgy as if sensing they were no longer alone. Luca and Kassian stepped into the dim light of the bare bulb hanging over the doorway behind the Fallen at the same time, their heavy boots callously shattering the glistening panes of fresh, thin ice skimming the tops of shallow puddles. The Fallen froze for a heartbeat before palming their weapons and falling into a crouch. Luca tossed his dagger carelessly from one hand to the other, wearing a come-and-get-me sneer, his eyes deepening to the dark gray of tempered steel. A low growl issued from the Fallen on the right as he and his companion moved forward with slow, plodding steps. Luca and Kassian moved to their right, forcing the Fallen out into the alley and away from the relative protection of the building at their backs. They had been fighting side by side for years and each knew the other’s next move like partners in a well-rehearsed dance.

  “Well, well, well …the dynamic duo, predictable as ever, I see,” taunted the larger of the Fallen.

  “Hell, Degnan, you didn’t think we’d miss a chance to catch up on old times now, did you? Things must be pretty rough for you if you’re desperate enough to throw in with a lowlife like Rapier,” Kassian countered in a bored voice, his eyes never leaving the other man’s. Fallen didn’t answer to one another as a rule; arrogant and autocratic, they despised any authority but their own. Of course, Rapier would have no pangs of conscience about using and sacrificing some of his own kind. “Too bad you picked the wrong circus to join…I doubt either you or your misguided friend here really believes the sick bastard is worth dying for…but hey, your call, man.”

  “Rapier’s money is as good as anyone else’s,” Degnan growled, confirming Kassian’s suspicions that they were affiliated with Jacques. “As for dying, didn’t your mama ever teach you not to count your chickens before they’re hatched, McAllister?”

  Kassian’s eyes neve
r wavered from his opponent. He was so going to enjoy this. He saw the precise instant the attack would come and steel met steel with a resounding clash, sparks lighting the darkness like a kid’s sparkler on the Fourth of July and reflecting on the wet pavement of the alley with every impact.

  “You really should choose your friends more carefully, Degnan,” Kassian grunted as he parried and spun away from the Fallen’s lunging blade yet again. The force of the last thrust had put Degnan off balance and Kassian planted his feet as he came out of the spin and brought his sword up and across the other man in midstride, slashing a deep gash that looked like a wide, macabre cummerbund across his torso from side to side. Degnan went down with a breathless grunt, first to his knees and then flat on his face, his steel clattering away into the darkness as he kissed the cold pavement. Kassian was barely winded. He glanced to his right and saw that Luca had his opponent well in hand. They were nowhere near evenly matched and Luca was amusing himself more than anything. Dimitri leaned against the building near where the Fallen had stood, arms crossed and looking bored, ready to step in if either of his brothers needed assistance.

  Kassian rolled Degnan onto his back with the heel of his steel-toed boot. The Fallen had a glazed expression of disbelief in his eyes as he stared straight up, the wet snow melting on his face as it landed. Better enjoy it now, sucker, there won’t be any snow where you’re going, Kassian thought grimly. Not unless hell actually does freeze over. The Fallen’s great, black wings were half unfurled, bent and crumpled beneath his dying body. He’d waited a heartbeat too long to attempt an escape.