“Yes,” Roland drew out the word, as if Valin was being particularly dense. “But do you know whose stronghold specifically?”
“Should I?”
“This was Christos’s power base. There are dozens of other vampire safe houses around the city, but this is where the bastard lived.” He hesitated. “Gabby too.”
Valin turned his gaze back to the home of Gabby’s youth. The place where for seventy-nine years she’d been subjected to whatever forms of torture Christos could think up in his attempt to break her. And though he wanted to personally dig up the bastard’s body and decapitate him again, Valin couldn’t help but be proud of his mate because Christos had never succeeded. Gabby had fought, slithering countless times from his grasp of evil, bending but never breaking beneath his will. She’d persevered and eventually clawed her way free.
But she’s back in there now. And you know what they’ll be doing to her. You’ve seen it in her memories.
He shook his head, unwilling to go down that road. He’d helped her move beyond the horrors of her past before and he’d do so again if need be. The important thing now was getting her the heck out of there. As quickly as fucking possible.
“I’m a great fucking father, aren’t I? Leaving her there.”
Valin turned to look at Roland. Realized the vampire-Paladin must be referring to past mistakes rather than discussing strategies of the present. Good thing, too, as Valin would have cut off the man’s balls before he let him walk away. Furthermore, he really couldn’t argue with Roland’s self-assessment of his former stellarness. Though in all fairness, Roland had a shitload on his plate back then, and hadn’t actually known Gabby was his. From snippets around the Paladin water cooler, Valin heard that Roland had tried to help her where and when he could. That, added to the fact Roland was here now, risking both his and his mate’s life on a potentially already doomed rescue mission?
“You’re not the shittiest father of the year.”
“Gee, thanks,” Roland muttered, eliciting another pull at the corners of Valin’s mouth. The fact of the matter was Roland was here, by Valin’s side, ready to fight. And Gabby was in there waiting to be rescued, which they were going to do in mucho más rápido fashion—as soon as Bennett and his buddies got their asses in gear, that is.
Valin cleared his throat, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. While he was waiting, there was no time like the present to kill…or be killed, right? “I’d ask you for her hand so that when we get her out of here…you know…but frankly I don’t give a damn if you approve or not.”
Roland shifted, and damn if Valin couldn’t feel the weight of his crimson gaze on him. “That’s okay. I don’t care if you want my blessing or not.” He paused, leaning in closer to whisper, “Just know that if you ever hurt her, if you ever cause her so much as one tear, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Roland!” Karissa gasped, but Valin ignored her, turning his head to meet Roland’s red eyes.
“I would never do that,” he vowed.
Roland lifted his brow, a blatant not-buying-it-bastard.
“She’s my mate.” Emphasis on the she is, not was. She had to be in there. In there and alive.
Roland’s eyes narrowed, the crimson subsiding as he glanced past Valin to meet Karissa’s gaze. Valin felt the soft brush of their silent communication. Roland’s probably asking WTF, does he actually believe that shit? and Karissa’s own perplexed believe so.
“Yeah, unfuckingbelievable, right?” Valin cracked his neck first one way, then the other. “Bands of misfits, vampire-Paladin who walk in the sun, freaks of darkness like me. Makes you wonder if He’s even still up there or not.”
“He is,” Karissa said, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. “And He has a plan.”
Valin’s brow furrowed as he turned to stare at her, wondering when she’d grown two heads. “Then why the fuck is Gabby in there?”
It was Roland who answered, his hand gripping Valin’s shoulder to draw his attention back to him. “Have you forgotten it’s our duty to make sure His plan comes to fruition? Annie, Karissa, Gabriella…they are as much His warriors as the rest of the Paladin. You know as well as I that being one of His soldiers often comes with hardship.”
Valin chewed on that, not liking the thought that Gabby, if truly one of His warriors, would be called upon to place herself in danger. If they got her out of there—no, when they got her out of there—he wanted to carry her away, wrap her up in silk, and stuff her as far away from Lucifer’s hordes as he possibly could. But if she was His, then Valin wouldn’t be able to do that, nor would she let him.
He squirmed, thinking his ability to play in the gray area between good and evil could be part of some grand plan, that he might be as beloved as someone like Logan or Alexander—it just felt odd and somehow blasphemous. “You really think that what I am, what I can do, is really part of His plan?”
“No, I don’t know what the fuck you are, you freak.” The quip was delivered with such indifference that Valin had to chuckle.
“Takes one to know one, huh?”
“Damn straight.” Roland sobered, his face grim as he met Valin’s gaze. “I don’t presume to understand how we fit into His greater purpose. But I know one thing. If you’re my daughter’s mate, then you’re not half as bad as I or even you think you are.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Don’t thank me.” He looked back at the shuttered mansion. “Just help me get Gabriella out of there.”
Unloved. Unwanted. Evil…Monster.
Gabby lay on the floor, her body twisting and contorting to escape the horrific truth seeping through her veins. Like black oil, the dark poison eating at her caught and flared, burning away the agony of her loss until she didn’t even remember what that loss was. All she knew was the fire’s blistering heat had come, consumed, and obliterated everything but the last command her master had given her.
Stand. Stand and fight.
Breathing through the smoldering heat in her lungs, Gabby pulled herself up to her feet. Not sensing anyone nearby to actually fight, she surveyed the room. The dark paneled walls stained darker by their gaslights, the floor sticky with blood, the hook in the ceiling, and the coil of rope tossed negligently in the corner. Something about it all struck a deeply buried chord of familiarity. She tested the connection, automatically recoiling from the images that swept over her, before she forced herself to stand before the onslaught.
That’s right. That had been her life. Though no longer. Now she had but one purpose. One reason for being here: revenge.
Stand and fight. Kill all the bastards who’ve done this to you.
Good idea. Now all she had to do was find them.
She moved out into the hall, making her way on some sort of subconscious memory toward the main stairs. The place seemed strangely empty. As if there had been a mass exodus by its occupants. As if they knew she came and thought it prudent to vacate the building. Wise, but it did nothing to ease her hunger.
Blood. Death. Destruction. Nothing else would feed her need for revenge.
She neared the central landing. Movement caught the corner of her eye, someone making his way down the last curve of twisting stairs. She edged forward toward the banister, twisting her head. The soft hiss of arguing voices rose like sweet music to her ears from the hall below.