“Aye, namely the fact that she would be positively lethal to us if she were to be captured by Ganelon and subsequently used against us.”
Jacob didn’t even blink at the mention of Lucifer’s right-hand man but met Bennett with a straight face as he said, “Annie would never allow herself to be used.”
Valin felt his brow quirking and his lip turning up. Annie? As in little orphan Annie? Or perhaps she was named for Annie Oakley in Annie Get Your Gun. That image fit a bit better with the Amazonian null who’d been hustled out of the room.
Bennett shook his head. “She wouldn’t have to allow it. If Ganelon got a hold of her, he’d find a way to force her compliance. Ganelon has…mastered the art of persuasion.”
It was hard to miss the way Jacob’s face paled, or how it took him a moment to regain his composure. Either he took his troops’ welfare very seriously or there was something personal here. Was he Amazon’s older brother maybe? There was a bit of a resemblance, in height alone if nothing else. In fact, Trigger Happy looked a lot like him too. Way to keep it all in the family.
“Annie your sister?” Valin asked.
Jacob rounded back on Valin, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Annie is off the table of discussion.”
“Fine, but she needs training. And Bennett here is the best man we have for the job. Unless you have someone who’s even better at shielding. Like, say, a certain vampire and succubus that you all seem to be acquainted with.”
Bennett stiffened at the same time that Jacob choked out, “Succubus?” His gaze skirted briefly to Trigger Happy. Something in Valin’s gut hardened, his blood pumping double-time. Why the fuck had Jacob looked at trigger-boy just then? As if Gabby being a succubus explained something. It better as hell not.
Trigger Happy’s mouth thinned. “Get the hell out. We don’t need you and your friend in here trying to scare us shitless by spouting lies.”
“I’m not going anywhere without talking to Gabby.”
“I don’t know about that. Hell is a place, after all,” Trigger Happy said, twisting his gun in true gangsta fashion. Was this guy for real?
Maybe yes, maybe no, but that gun is. So if you want to see her, you might want to play nicer.
“I’ll talk with him,” a voice cut through the tense silence.
And there she was, standing just inside the doors at the far end of the cafeteria. Even from here the sight of her was like a brick to the jaw. The urge to plow through all obstacles or, hell, give up the clothes and knife he’d made such a big deal about and ghost over to her was intense. He wanted to touch her, push back the hefty hunk of hair that obscured half her face just to be sure it was her. Yes, he’d seen her twice now since the mines where he thought she’d died, but the first time he hadn’t recognized her and the second he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced. He was now though.
“Gabriella, you don’t have to do anything for this asshole.” Trigger Happy all but growled, his gun shaking in his hand.
“It’s okay, Aaron. Valin just wants to talk.” The corner of her full lips tipped up slightly on one side, not an amused smile, more a look of self-recrimination. “My fault, probably. Our good-byes were a bit rushed last time.”
“Try nonexistent,” Valin muttered. And he still wanted to throttle her for it. Not the lack of good-bye so much, but the fact that she’d taken off in the first place and put herself in danger. Whenever he thought of it he remembered the soul-clenching sense of panic that had consumed him as he’d searched those mines. It wasn’t until he’d finally given up, returning to the surface, and gotten the shocker of his life when he’d seen both Karissa and Roland standing, unharmed, in the sun that he’d begun to believe it possible Gabby still lived. Gabby had been given Karissa’s blood, and it seemed Karissa’s blood was the cure-all for the whole vampire-to-ashes thing.
“You coming?” Gabby said over her shoulder by the main doors of the cafeteria, pulling him from the chest-tightening memories.
Valin realized that a pathway had opened up before him. Well, almost; he still had to step around the gun-loving Aaron. Ignoring the itch in his shoulders that came with turning his back on potential danger, he did.
Gabby had already left by the time he made it to the other side of the cafeteria, the heavy doors swinging back and practically hitting him in the face.
Little chit. If he wasn’t so happy to see her he’d want to wring her neck.
Despite the fact he’d been pretty convinced it was her the other day, he still couldn’t believe he was here with her now. In a weird sort of surreal daze, he followed her as she turned off the main hall down a smaller side one, then stood drinking her in as she paused to open a door at the end. What he didn’t like is what he saw. Those were no socks filling out that bra. These were the curves her younger body had promised. And though she was still petite, the lean muscles over the rest of her had similarly matured, firming at some point into textured hardness.
Gabby was aging. That was no makeup job the other night and not the harsh lighting that had chiseled the youth from her face. And those were actual lines—though faint—that fanned the corner of her eyes as she shut the door, flipped on the light, and turned her full-fledged glare on him.
“What the hell has happened to you?” he demanded, noticing how limp and flat her normally lustrous red hair looked in the light.
“And hello to you too. I’d say you look well, but it might further inflate your ego and spin you off into the atmosphere.”
And tired. Pale and tired. And were those dark circles under her eyes? God, what had she been doing? Or maybe the better question was what hadn’t she been doing?
“Are you feeding enough?” he demanded.
She flashed her fangs, letting her eyes drift to his throat. “Every chance I get.”
“Really?” He grabbed his shirt, stretching the neckline and exposing his throat. “Then go ahead, cookie.”
She hissed, fear skittering in her eyes as she clamped her jaw tight and turned her head away, though not before Valin saw the flare of red in her black pupils.
Fuck, yeah, she was hungry. Hell, the air was so heavy with the pheromones she was putting off, he could practically taste her need. And what do you know, that was his second brain rising to attention. He tried telling it that it was simply a vampire’s nature to equate feeding with sex, but the damn thing didn’t give a shit. All it knew was that they’d been reunited with their mate, and that, holy hallelujah, their mate no longer lived in a body that could be considered jailbait. Far from it.
“Gabby…” He reached for her, wanting to soothe her obvious agitation, but she skirted away, dodging behind the metal desk butted against the wall in front of the cot, clenching the edge of it as if it were a lifeline…or like she might grab it up and toss it at him.
“I don’t feed from humans…or Paladin,” she quickly tagged on as if she expected him to toss out that argument.
“Where are you getting your blood from then?”
“None of your business.”
“Gabby, everything with you is my business,” he told her, rather proud of how he managed to keep the agitation out of his voice. Didn’t she feel it too? Or, fuck, was he the only one suffering here with the need to claim his mate?
She looked at him straight on, her dark pupils that couldn’t decide between black or crimson narrowed. “In your dreams.”
“Exactly.” He smiled, taking a step toward the desk.
She eyed him warily, but he couldn’t miss how her pulse skittered at the base of her throat or how her breathing had sped up.
Not so indifferent to me, are you, cookie?
She cleared her throat. “What was so vital that you had to track me down here, anyway? Is Roland okay?”