Despite the fear turning her blood to ice water, Caitlin glared at the creature threatening her. Unlike the rogues who had come after her, Isabelle didn’t reek, she certainly wasn’t homely and she didn’t have a vulnerable bone in her body. “Jon and Luc,” she told her proudly. “And they’re going to send you to hell where you belong.”
Isabelle smiled, showing her lethal fangs. “We’ll see about that.” With a twist of her wrist, she sent the red haired woman flying towards the pool, watched dispassionately as her body bounced with bruising force off the diving board then topple into the water. “The first one to go after her dies,” she warned them as several women attempted to do just that. When they froze, she looked around slowly at the women so cherished by the brethren, her lip curling in a sneer. Not a one could hold a candle to her, she thought with conceit born from surrounding herself with those who adored her. “I want Damien’s mate. Come forward and you can rescue your pathetic little friend.”
Abby didn’t hesitate even though sick fear was coiling in her stomach when she stepped forward. “I’m Abrielle.” She breathed a sigh of relief when Ava and Susan dove in after Caitlin and pulled her limp body over to the steps, noting she was still breathing. Her vision was suddenly blocked by Isabelle and Abby looked into the most chilling face she has ever seen. Not as brave as Caitlin, she stood her ground quietly, her mind reaching out for Damien in desperation.
Damien, Isabelle is here.
“Son of a bitch,” Damien swore as Abby’s frightened voice put a sudden stop to their search. They were about to leave Isabelle’s private chamber to search deeper in the mountain retreat for her whereabouts, but instead he looked at his comrades who, by the looks of dread on their faces already knew what their next move was. “Go!” Damien was already dematerializing when he gave the order, fear for Abby and the others clogging his throat.
Within moments the brethren were shimmering into view in the yard, facing their worst nightmare. “Let her go,” Damien demanded without preamble, striding with angry purpose toward where Isabelle stood behind Abby, one arm wrapped around her neck, her other hand pressing against Abby’s skull. One jerk, one minute twist, and she’d snap Abby’s neck.
Malicious triumph lit Isabelle’s eerie red eyes as she cooed, “Now, why would I want to do that, lover?”
She was delusional, Damien decided with one look. Wobbling on the edge of insanity, centuries of torturing and killing innocents had finally taken its toll. “Because it’s me you want, not her.”
“Wrong,” Isabelle snarled. “I want you to suffer like I’ve suffered, to know the pain of losing the only person who matters before I end your miserable existence.”
Damien held his hand up, stopping the forward movement of the brethren who had formed a half circle behind him, effectively putting up a barrier between Isabelle and their mates. All except Abby, who was doing her damnedest to hide her fear from him. Her bravado warmed his heart, the way she kept her eyes on him, showing him she had complete faith in him helped him remain calm.
“You blame me because Vladamir got caught unawares by vampire hunters? If you two hadn’t been terrorizing the countryside by attacking innocent people, he might still be with you today.” Taking another step forward, he demanded, “Let her go, Isabelle, and you and I can return to your home and hash out our differences.”
“No!” Abby’s vehement protest was accompanied by a murmur of protest behind him, but he ignored them, keeping his focus on Isabelle.
“Tell me something, Damien,” Isabelle said, ignoring his suggestion as she ran a razor sharp nail down Abrielle’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. “Does your whore know about the poor, young girl you fucked to death while gorging on her blood?”
Damien ignored the pain of having his deepest, darkest secret exposed in front of everyone he cared about, a pain that was every bit as sharp and cutting as a knife. Refusing to look at Abby’s face, he kept his focus on Isabelle, watching her closely for any small, telltale movement that would signal she was making a final move against Abby.
“You know I haven’t,” he said tightly, offering nothing in the way of his defense.
“I wonder,” Isabelle murmured, her lips caressing Abby’s ear, her nail cutting into her neck again, “if you would have spread your legs for him if you knew he was capable of draining the life from a person, sucking the poor young thing dry while he was fucking her raw. It was a beautiful sight, if I do say so myself.”
Abby suppressed a shudder of revulsion, not at the words intended to hurt Damien as well as her, b
ut at being so close to such malevolent evil, her fear now more for Damien than herself. The brethren’s clothing was blood soaked, all bore bleeding wounds and faces grim with contempt, but not a one aimed that look at Damien. They stood as a united front, both in protection of their mates and in support of their leader and friend, regardless of what Isabelle said. Damien, please look at me, she pleaded with him silently, the bleak resignation in his dark eyes telling her he thought she would turn from him now. Swallowing convulsively as Isabelle bent her head and licked the blood dripping down her neck, Abby told her hoarsely, “I would gladly spread my legs anywhere, anytime for my mate. Too bad you can no longer enjoy that pleasure.”
Before Damien could recover from the shock and fear of Abby’s deliberate goading, her cry of terror laced pain rent the air followed swiftly by a hair raising snarl from Micah as he came barreling out of the bayou and took a flying leap against Isabelle’s back. Isabelle’s teeth barely scraped Abby’s neck instead of ripping into her tender flesh as she was knocked sideways and then flattened by the five hundred pound feline. Damien was grabbing Abby before she hit the ground, pushing her towards the other women then turning back to see not only Micah, but Tasha pinning Isabelle to the ground with their huge paws on her back and their jaws clamped around her neck.
Isabelle bucked against their combined weight, her strength waning with the massive blood loss, but was still strong enough to dislodge both cats off her back. But their tenacity and combined brutal power was enough to keep their jaws embedded in her neck. Their death hold had torn her neck open from front to back, their massive jaws and canines cutting through blood gushing arteries, exposing ripped muscles and tendons and crushing bones.
The brethren surrounded her prone figure, every one of them watching avidly as her neck showed signs of healing as fast as the cats were ripping it apart, their hands holding their daggers at the ready. A wink of metal flashed in Damien’s hands as he went to his knees, straddled her back and raised his arms. With every ounce of his strength he buried the blade into her back, her guttural scream of rage abruptly cut short as he pierced her heart, pinning her to the blood soaked ground by burying the tip into the earth. He didn’t order the cats off her, or get off of her himself as he waited with baited breath for her to turn to ash. By the time her body was nothing but a pile of soot under him, the tigers had completely severed her head, her mouth open on a silent scream, her eyes glazed over in accusation their last sight of her before her head also turned to ash, making doubly sure she was out of their lives for good.
Silence descended on the yard as they all stood around in stunned stupor, the women eyeing their mates closely, assessing their injuries and bloodied clothing, the vampires not quite ready to relax their guard, not trusting that she was actually gone for good.
Damien finally allowed himself to look at Abby, and when he saw nothing on her face except calm understanding backed by the utter faith she has always had in him, he felt like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders and he could finally breathe easily. He then looked at each member of the brethren, surprised then grateful to see nothing but the unflappable support they have always given him, not one sign of condemnation on their faces for the death he would always hold himself solely responsible for.
But just as everyone started to move at once toward the welcoming embrace of their mate, the men slowly became transparent, their solid forms turning ghostly, the looks on their faces ones of astonishment and then pain filled resignation as they each caught and held the eyes of their mate as they disappeared from sight.
“Oh my God,” Abby breathed in stunned despair as they stood there staring at the lawn where the men had simply vanished from, leaving behind no sign or indication of where they went or what happened to them.
Chapter Twenty One
Epilogue
One month later
Caitlin went downstairs to unlock the doors, still not used to the earlier hours. After Jon and Luc’s vanishing act a month ago, she found the nights difficult to get through. Not that the days were any easier, but by opening in time for a lunch clientele and turning the bar over to Bobby and her new part-time bartender to handle the late-night crowd, she was able to fall into exhausted sleep for a few hours. She still couldn’t believe they were gone, that they had such an impact on her life in just two short weeks that she was still having trouble coping with their loss after over four weeks of dealing with their abrupt absence. Bobby’s budding relationship which had him positively glowing most of the time, didn’t help matters. She never imagined she could feel jealous of her friend’s happiness, but she did.
Grace and Abby weren’t faring much better, but their frequent visits to the Down and Dirty as well as their Sunday dinners at the plantation the past three weeks had helped them cope with their mutual loss. The rest of the women had spent the day following their mate’s disappearance at the manor, the thirteen of them holding out hope that they would reappear as quickly as they had left. The despair they all felt when they didn’t was almost unbearable, their tears mingling as they hugged each other good-bye, promising to keep in touch as they caught airplane rides home.