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Prince of Shadows

Paladin Warriors - 3

by

Tes Hilaire

To my wonderful street team, Hilaire’s Hellions. Imagination is just the beginning of the journey to completing a book. Your help and encouragement dispels the darkness along the way.

Prologue

Four months before…

Valin fought to breathe through the layers of dust shifting through the stale air of the cave. One aftershock tremor after another rumbled through the cavern.

He blinked, striving to make out anything in the darkness. Nothing could have possibly survived that blast. Even Valin’s skin felt singed, and as a Paladin he was supposedly immune from the burn of heavenly light. Unlike the vamps and demons they’d been battling in this godforsaken place.

He shuddered, dread settling in his core. Gritting his teeth, he pushed out with his senses, striving for any signs of a living, breathing essence. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Because you’re too late. Just like you were with Angeline. Too late to protect her. Too late to save your unborn child. And now your little vampire is dead too.

He clenched his jaw. He would not believe Gabriella was dead. She might have been a vampire, but she was his vampire.

“Fuck.” He raked his hands down over his face. “What the hell am I thinking?” He’d just met the pint-sized pain in the ass. He knew nothing about her other than that she was stubborn, annoying, and…brave. So fucking brave. Brave enough to face down him, her natural enemy, while chained to a wall. Brave enough to stand against her master. Brave enough to run toward death in some vain hope that she might save the lives of two others. Stupid, impossible brat.

Swearing, he pushed off the clammy wall, stumbling along, randomly picking tunnels whenever he came to a split. Maybe she made it far enough. She was fast and determined. Maybe…

His boot kicked into something soft, causing a pile of ash to billow up around him, clogging his lungs.

He ground to a halt, breath trapped tight behind his ribs as he sifted his hand through the cloud of ash. So soft, so light, and all that was left of a life. His hand began to shake, pain radiating from behind his ribs, even though he knew, knew it could just as likely be some random bloodsucker who’d decided to take their chances in these caves rather than facing the Paladin who’d come to eradicate them.

This wasn’t her. He’d prove it. He clenched his hand into a fist, taking another step into the darkness. He just had to find her first.

Chapter 1

It’s not her blood. Not Gabby.

Valin’s hand shook as he splayed his palm across the splotch marring the pavement. The slick fluid masqueraded as nothing more than the leftovers of a long-sitting vehicle, though it wasn’t. Black, oily blood. Blood from a creature so inherently malicious that its dark essence had leached into the blacktop upon its death, leaving a pall of evil.

Definitely not Gabby’s blood. Sitting back on his heels, he dragged his hands down over his face, half-surprised to feel the stubble on his jaw. Endless nights of searching, sleepless days of worrying. How long could he keep this up? Four months of nothing, then last week he’d seen her. It had been from a distance on a dark street and she’d been wearing a wig, but something deep in his gut had screamed that it was her.

He had to find her—alive and well, and most importantly, before any of his brothers did. Every time one of his Paladin brethren claimed another kill, his gut tightened into knots, his fear that this time one of his seemingly offhand inquiries would yield a tale of a redheaded vampire’s demise and he would completely lose it.

Like you did when Angeline died?

He swore, closing his eyes. It would be worse than when he’d lost Angeline. She’d been his best friend, their unborn child his heart and hope, but Gabby…She’s my mate. My very soul. He hadn’t even claimed her yet and it seemed the universe was conniving with friend and foe alike to take her from him too.

“What is it, Valin?” a voice rose from behind him. “Can you tell what happened?”

Valin tensed and twisted, quickly closing in on his shields as he glared up at the blond Paladin who’d snuck up behind him. And wasn’t that just great? Caught having a “moment” by Bennett, the one Paladin who had a shit’s chance in hell of reading him. Luckily the empathic warrior didn’t seem to be attributing Valin’s case of nerves with his spiraling grasp on his sanity, his focus solely on the stain at Valin’s feet.

“I can say pretty definitively that someone killed a merker here.”

“Dead?” Bennett’s brow winged up. “How, though?”

Valin shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer the question, more that he wished he knew what the answer was. It wasn’t easy killing a merker. Slice ’em up, fry the heart and gray matter in His light, and serve was the only tried-and-true recipe he knew of, but given the potency of the residual stain, it was just as obvious that someone had found another way.

“Bloody hell.” Bennett took a deep breath, running his hand back and forth across his short, spiky hair. “It’s one of them, isn’t it?”

Valin’s brow shot up. As in one of the gifted humans who’d managed to send the council all in a tizzy after their little surprise break-in last week? Not only had the group’s actions compromised the safety of the Paladin sanctuary Haven, but the misguided band had just enough power to be dangerous—to themselves, to others, and to the random merker, it would seem.

“You think?” he replied, sarcasm dripping heavily in his tone. Not like there were many other options.

Bennett didn’t rise to Valin’s sarcasm. His face was solemn as he met Valin’s gaze. “No Paladin has reported a kill in this area, so yes, I do think so.”

Valin sucked in a breath, acid churning in a stomach already raw with nerves at the mention of the daily kill reports the council had taken to posting. Eleven vampires and three succubi in the last week and a half alone.

But none of them were Gabby. She’s tough. Smart.

A memory surfaced, Gabriella’s lips curling to reveal her pretty little fangs as she jerked at the manacles. “Do I look like the fucking enemy?” she’d demanded, her sinful red locks sticking to the trails of salty tears coating her cheeks. The truth was she hadn’t—which was his reason for not immediately staking her. Chained in that dilapidated coalhouse, a cloud-break away from extinction, attitude had poured off the pint-sized vamp, exposing a backbone that may well have been bent, but never broken. He’d known instinctively that she, like his brother Roland, had had no choice in her turning, and the IV bag lying on the floor beside her proved she fought her nature tooth and nail.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t matter to a Paladin that she’d been turned against her will. Didn’t matter that she was free now, her maker Christos having fallen to Roland’s blade. Nor did it matter that Gabby had always seemed to bat for the good guys. Nope, the only thing that would matter to his brothers if they were to come face to face with her was her heritage. Part succubus and all vamp—not exactly the credentials to put on an application for the angel-blood-only club.

“Hey, mate…you in there?”

Valin blinked, taking in Bennett’s pinched face, the suspicion burgeoning in his eyes. Not cool. He didn’t need his Paladin brothers watching him too closely. Play along, go with the flow…find her. The rest of the shit he could figure out later.

“I’ll be fine,” Valin replied, tugging up his hoodie’s zipper. “Just cold and cranky.”