“I know. But I have a feeling they’re out already and I need to patrol.” Or stay here with the hard-on from hell until he lost what little sanity he had left. As Oscar Wilde once said, he could resist anything except temptation.
Before Rafael could make it to the door, his phone rang. Without looking at the ID, he answered it.
“Rafe?” It was Jeff whispering in a panicked tone.
“Yeah?”
“There’s a group of Daimons here at the marina.”
“It’s too early for them to be out.”
“Tell them that!”
“Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s spooky as hell. There’s some kind of party going on at the houseboat next door that started at sundown and I just saw six of them heading for it.”
“All right. Lie low and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Celena frowned at the concern in Rafael’s voice. “Is there a problem?”
“Major Daimon alert.”
Before she could ask anything else, he was gone, but his words rang in her ears. Major Daimon alert…
This could be bad.
You’re a Squire. Her place was at home, especially after dark. And then she saw Eamon’s face in her mind. His smiling face as he teased her about not eating peas.
“Did ya do yer homework, lass?”
God, how she’d loved that man. He was like an older brother, a best friend, and a father all rolled into one. And in one heartbeat, the Daimons had killed him.
Let’s face it, with the exception of Ephani, you’ve had a bad run with Dark-Hunters. The more she cared for them, the more horrible their deaths.
And she loved Rafael. She’d loved him since the first moment she’d met him after she moved to West Point, Mississippi. He was intelligent, smart, and he had a wicked sense of humor.
Now he was going to fight the Daimons. Alone.
A thousand scenarios went through her head, with all of them coming to one single conclusion.
Rafael dead. Panic set her heart to beating furiously as she looked about his home. She couldn’t pack up another Dark-Hunter’s home. She couldn’t hold another vigil service to pay respect to someone she loved.
She couldn’t.
And before she could stop herself, she grabbed the tracer off the table and her keys.
4
When Jeff had said that there was a group of Daimons heading for a party, Rafael had taken that to mean that there were only six Daimons at a human party. You know – a regular party with teenaged or college-aged humans groping each other while drinking heavily. The kind of party that he normally crashed so that he could protect the humans from the Daimons who wanted to feast on their souls.
What the rocket scientist had failed to mention to Rafael was the small fact that the Daimons were headed into an Apollite wedding reception. Something he, himself, hadn’t realized until he’d walked onto the boat that was filled with tall, gorgeous pale blond preternatural people.
Oh yeah, the six-foot-six bald black man dressed all in black leather really didn’t blend into the overdressed crowd of Nordic vampires. And Rafael had to admit that right now, looking at the Apollites and Daimons who were staring angrily at him, made him feel like the last steak in the Kennel Club.
It was so silent, the only sound he could hear, even with heightened hearing, was his own heart beating. Though there was blood in their goblets – he could smell it – there didn’t appear to be any humans around who needed saving.
Except for, maybe, him.
One of the Apollites closest to him arched a brow before he spoke. “Bride’s side or groom’s?”
“I’m with catering,” Rafael said in a flat tone.
A Daimon stepped forward to give him a cold, feral once-over. “Yeah, you look like food to me.”
The Daimon female beside him smiled, showing off her fangs. “We can’t really eat him, since his blood is poisonous to us, but killing him should have some entertainment value. What do you think?”
Yeah, he’d walked right into the lion’s den. There were at least twelve Daimons that he could sense. Add another twenty Apollites. Normally Apollites didn’t fight against Dark-Hunters, since Dark-Hunters were forbidden to touch them until they stopped feasting on fellow Apollites and began feasting on human souls, thereby becoming Daimons. Then it was open warfare between them.
However, this group didn’t seem too concerned with keeping the unspoken truce between Dark-Hunters and Apollites. They truly were bloodthirsty.
And now they were attacking.
Reaching under his coat, Rafael grabbed his steel stake and plunged it into the heart of the first Daimon to reach him. With an anguished cry, the Daimon exploded into dust. Two more came at him. He caught the first one a quick hit that sent him flying backward, into the arms of another Daimon, while he flipped the second one over and stabbed him straight in the chest.
Before he could straighten up from the kill, the Daimons overran him like ants over a sugar cube. He hit the ground face-first as they clawed at him. He could feel something biting into his back that felt like a knife wound, but it was hard to tell as he struggled to get them off him.
Celena knew she was breaking the rules, but Rafael didn’t have to know it. All she was going to do was make sure he was okay, then head back to his house. No one would ever know what she’d done. No one.
She parked her car as close to the docks as she could before she took off running toward where the tracer in her hand said Rafael was. A thousand fears shredded her as she relived the night Sara had died. Celena had been trying to get to her. They’d been on the cell phone together as she raced to make it in time.
The last sound she’d heard had been Sara screaming as she burst into flames.
Grief threatened to overwhelm Celena. She couldn’t lose another Dark-Hunter. And especially not Rafael. She’d loved him far too long to let him die.
With no clear thought of what she had in mind to do to help him if he was in trouble, she ran onto the boat, then skidded to a stop.
It was total chaos.
But more than that, there was no sign of Rafael anywhere. He appeared to be buried by the large stack of Daimons and Apollites in the center of the boat.
Her eyes welling with tears, she met the gaze of a woman in a wedding dress for only an instant before she pulled a stake out of her coat.
“Rafael?” Celena cried, heading for the fray.
A Daimon turned on her then. Celena kicked him back and kept going toward the largest group of them. She knew that was where Rafael had to be.
She couldn’t see anything as she pushed, kicked, and fought until she finally saw what she’d come for. Rafael knocked a Daimon off him while another was trying to pin him to the ground. But what made her panic swell most was the Daimon coming toward them with an axe.
If they managed to cut off Rafael’s head, it was over.
The Daimons pulled back as someone grabbed her from behind. Reacting on pure instinct, Celena head-butted her assailant with the back of her head and launched herself at Rafael who still lay on the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw the axe falling.
She curled herself around Rafael’s head and waited for the pain of the axe slicing through her.
It never came.
There was a sudden silence that rang out as everything seemed to freeze into place. Her heart racing, Celena opened her eyes to see the Apollites and Daimons staring above her. She rolled over to find the Daimon who’d held the axe. Only now the axe was gone.
It was in the hands of the groom who stared not at them but at the others with a stern glare. “Enough!” he roared. “This is supposed to be my wedding!” He looked over at the bride, whose face was pale, her delicate lips trembling. “And you’re upsetting Chloe. I’ve only got five more years with her before I die and the last thing I want is to have what few memories I have left ruined by a bunch of bloodthirsty assholes.” He picked out with his gaze the ones who must be Daimons. “No more bloodshed!”
The Daimon next to Celena curled his lip. “He killed my brother.”
The groom snarled. “Your brother was a dickhead and he’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I told all of you that you weren’t to cause any problems tonight, didn’t I?”
The Daimon turned sheepish.
The groom tossed the axe overboard before he approached them. To Celena’s complete shock, he held his hand out to her.
She exchanged an uncertain look with Rafael before she reached out, clasped the groom’s hand, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
“You can’t let him go,” another Daimon sneered.
“It’s my wedding. I can do what I please. This is supposed to be a night of celebration – ”
“Then let’s celebrate by killing a Dark-Hunter.”
The groom looked disgusted. “Someone stake that bastard, please, and for the sake of the gods, dust Benny off the table by the fountain. That powder’s disgusting and it’s getting into the blood.” He helped Rafael up. “Don’t worry. It’s not human blood. It’s ours.”
Rafael wasn’t sure what to think as he faced the Apollite in front of him. They could have killed him and Celena both. He was having a hard time believing that they would just let him go.
“Why are you doing this?” Rafael asked.
The groom looked back at his bride. “Because life’s too short to spend it fighting when you could be holding the one you love. And love’s too rare to squander it with petty concerns.” He took his wife’s hand in his and held it tight. “I’m lucky I have Chloe and I have no intention of letting a war I didn’t start rob me of one second of my time with her. Go in peace, Dark-Hunter.”
Rafael was surprised by his words, but even more so by his charity. “You’re a good man.”
The Apollite scoffed. “I guess we’ll see in about five years, huh? If I die peacefully, then I’m good. If not, then we’ll face each other again as predators.” He indicated the ramp with a jerk of his chin. “Now go before I change my mind.”