Taken (Ava Delaney #4) Read online

  Taken (Ava Delaney #4)

  By Claire Farrell

  Edited by Lynn O’Dell

  In the months since Ava fooled the British vampires and dealt with Becca for good, life has been easier, but not without its problems. Her deal with the twins is physically harming her, Peter’s grasp on sanity is slipping, Carl is struggling, and Esther is losing her edge.

  Ava’s been asking questions in an attempt to fulfil her various deals, but her persistence turns out to be the biggest problem. She’s not the only one asking questions, but somebody wants her to stop, and finding out who’s in charge is a lot more difficult than taking care of her new houseguest.

  To survive, Ava must take control of her own destiny for a change. That might involve swallowing her pride and accepting help from those she doesn’t trust because new foes are on the horizon, and the number of people needing her protection keeps increasing.

  Smashwords Edition

  August 2012

  Copyright © Claire Farrell 2012

  [email protected]

  Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.thedarkrayne.com

  Licence Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  I followed Peter past a couple of blocks of run-down flats, growing more concerned with each step. Sweat trickled down my spine in anticipation of encountering the unknown. The endless, likely self-induced, premonitions of imminent disaster, not to mention the racing of Peter’s pulse, forced me to mouth numbers under my breath. Counting only helped a little; the area itself thwarted any attempts I made to calm myself.

  Sounds echoed strangely in the night, and the buildings loomed ominously, the windows more like hooded eyes peering straight through our intentions, recognising our secrets. Figures moving along the balconies created shadow giants on the ground, and I grew jumpier by the second.

  Cackles of obnoxious laughter from three blocks away erupted as if right over my shoulder, yet whispers from a couple of yards away couldn’t be heard clearly. Something surreal lingered in the air, some knowledge that dark things were among us, yet nobody cared.

  A gang of kids who should have been home in bed at that time of night heckled as we passed, and I resisted the urge to flash some fang. An unseen arm flung an empty bottle from the depths of the flats; it landed a couple of feet behind me with a clatter. By the giggles and sounds of running feet, I guessed a child had been the culprit. The only people in Dublin brave enough to give Peter and me a hard time were ten-year-old boys. Sometimes I wished for their innocence.

  The streetlamps ended, and we were mired in mostly darkness for the rest of the journey, except when a random gleam of moonlight brightened our path. The sounds from the flats died and left us completely alone. Somehow, that was worse. A shudder ran down my spine when shadows closed in on us. As we surrendered ourselves to the blackest black, Peter never once looked back, but I kept following him, waiting for the clouds to uncover the moon again.

  This traditionally poverty-stricken part of Dublin’s inner-city had always been dark, always clouded with misery, a stark reminder of my old succubus-ridden flat. That night was no different, but I felt something… other in the air, and my base instincts said to run.

  Peter didn’t say anything as he led the way to our latest victims. I couldn’t think of a better word for what we made them, and it was from us I wanted to run. We had become unofficial voices of the Council, pushing our way through our world to find the answers we needed. My conscience bit at me on a regular basis. We stepped lightly over deep puddles that had formed over somewhat ominous holes gouged out in the concrete until we came to what looked like a group of abandoned warehouses.

  “In here,” he said gruffly, his heart rate increasing. Excitement or fear.

  The building he indicated rose over us like an angry monster preparing to chomp down on intruders. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to play the game again. But Peter wasn’t going home without at least asking some questions, and I couldn’t walk away either. I had too many bosses on my back, too many favours owed.

  Peter pushed at the large door, found it locked, and shrugged. “We’ll need to go around the back.”

  The buildings stood tight together, so I turned to go around the long way.

  “No, this way. It’s quicker.” He took my hand and led me to the end of the row of buildings. A small space was between two of them, barely large enough for us to walk through sideways. Trying not to get freaked out by the close quarters, I side-stepped after Peter, cursing him inwardly.

  “You hate me, don’t you?” I hissed.

  He stayed silent, although his lips quivered a little in the dim light. The walls were wet with some kind of slime, and a weird stench seemed to erupt as we moved further into the alley. I screwed up my face in disgust, but he kept moving steadily. If I gave up, I would never hear the end of it.

  We finally made it to the end of the line, and I gazed at him, wondering what he would suggest next.

  He gestured upward. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

  I stifled a groan. Not climbing. Not again.

  “It’s not so bad. We just need to walk the wall around and back up to the warehouse.”

  “Right, but what’s the smell?”

  “Them, I suppose.”

  “And they are?”

  His gaze locked onto mine. “I didn’t stick around to ask for details, Ava. All I know is these people might have answers to our questions. So here we are.” He bent his knee as much as he could, which wasn’t particularly far at all, and held out his hands.

  Steeling myself for the rest of what was turning out to be an awful night, I grabbed his hands, stood on his thigh, and hauled myself up onto the wall, praying I wouldn’t fall. It wouldn’t be the first time. I faltered, scrambling to hold on, but he planted his hands on my backside, pushing me up. I managed to pull one leg over the wall and ended up straddling it, leaning forward as I reached down to help Peter.

  He ignored me and basically walked up the wall by using the opposite wall, his hands and feet spread wide, balancing himself perfectly.

  “Show off,” I hissed as he sat next me, a smug expression on his face.

  “Lots of practice growing up.” He cocked his head to the side. “You should have climbed more when you were younger.”

  “I had more sense. Obviously, that went out the window when I met you.”

  He lifted my legs over his and pulled me closer to him, heat generating in his hazel eyes.

  I gripped the wall frantically. “I could fall!”

  He rolled his eyes and freed me. I balanced myself warily, getting to my feet as slowly as possible.

  Peter looked up at me with amusement. “Vampires jump off buildings, and angels are… well, angels. So what’s wrong with you exactly?”

  I closed my eyes and held out my arms to find my centre. “I just don’t do well with heights, okay? You know it, yet you seem to find great pleasure in getting me to climb. Can we get on with this, please?”

  He held my hand, his strong fingers around mine, steady and warm, and I felt relief. He wouldn’t let me fall. I opened my eyes and swallowed hard as he led me slowly along the surface of the wall with no more showing off. My difficulty with heights was all in my head. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from wobbling.

  I counted my steps, stopping every time I reached five, much to Peter’s frustration. “I’ll fall on six,” I tried to explain, but he just shook his head.

  The smell grew stronger, a weird, rotting, earthy smell, and I heard noises as we moved around to the back of th
e buildings—a discussion, although I didn’t understand the words.

  “Definitely not empty,” I whispered.

  He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the back of the warehouse. I spotted no movement, but in the dark, it was hard to tell. A glimmer of light flickered from somewhere, and I held my breath, waiting for something to attack. Nothing happened, and Peter yanked my hand roughly, urging me to keep walking.

  We made it to the warehouse without me falling or screaming like a little girl. Sometimes I acted altogether too human for Peter’s liking. He jumped off the wall and landed on his feet, making only a slight scuffling noise. I tried to climb down, but as I lowered myself, his firm hands on my waist helped me before I fell and alerted anyone to our presence. Sometimes his presumption that I would mess up bothered the hell out of me.

  He held on to me even after I landed, fingers digging into my waist to push me against the wall as I turned to face him, his body barring my way. His lips found mine before I could protest, and as his cinnamon scent surrounded me, I couldn’t remember what I was protesting against.

  That was Peter: excited from the hunt and ready to temporarily let me into his world. My fingers gripped his sandy-brown hair, and he broke away, panting, wildfire in his eyes.

  “We’re leaving through the front door,” I warned him. I received a grin in return. That didn’t help my already edgy nerves. I knew him too well.

  “Sure how we’re playing this one?” he asked.

  I nodded. He pointed to an open doorway, but I gripped his arm to stop him while I reached out with my senses to see what might be inside. All I saw was a large, squirming mass of murky teal.

  “What the hell are they?” I whispered.

  He shrugged. I could only sense what seemed like one being inside, a large being that I had never come across before.

  We darted across the concrete to the unguarded doorway, and the smell almost overcame me. Holding my breath, I followed him inside, taking small, light steps. I blinked rapidly in the sudden darkness and random glow. Once my eyes adjusted to the change, I saw that tiny lights lit up the room. Smoke filled the air, and I realised my mistake. It wasn’t one being, but many beings who shared something—a mind, an instinct, a cause, something that entwined them together. I hoped that was the only similarity they shared with the succubi.

  They all watched us warily. Peter moved to the closest figure and asked him some questions. The being shook its head, obviously irritated.

  All of the creatures, for I knew their human-looking masks weren’t real, slowly shifted into their true forms: almost translucent grey skin, angular features, pink doe-shaped eyes. Hairless, heartless beings. They wouldn’t help us.

  Peter seemed to realise the same thing because his pulse hitched up a notch, and I saw the shaking in his hands.

  I should have known he would start something. Anyone else would have expected it, but I wore rose-tinted glasses whenever I looked at Peter. So I thought this time would be different. This time we could ask questions without having to fight our way out. This time we would get the right answers.

  I saw the gleam in his eye a half-second before anyone else. He would go into one of his Cúchulainn type frenzies if I didn’t stop him. Not that I had ever stopped him before.

  “Maybe they don’t know anything,” I murmured, all too aware of the strange eyes on me.

  As their eyes burned into one vibrant flame red, I knew we were only seeing what they wanted us to see. Anyone else would see a bunch of squatters lounging around, smoking joints. They made sure we saw enemies, ready to pounce.

  “They know something,” Peter said through clenched teeth. Quick as a flash, he dragged one to the wall, his fingers wrapping around the… whatever’s neck. “Tell me what you know!”

  And so it was up to me to have his back. While he indulged in a little torture, I had to fight the creatures gunning for his heart. One by one, they slunk closer to us. They were slate-skinned and alien-looking, with tongues that slit in two like serpents, thoroughly freaking me out.

  “Not today,” I said to the one closest to me. “I am so not in the mood for this.”

  It hissed, sliding along on the balls of its feet, and my heart sank. Not again.

  Something moved under the surface of the creature’s skin, from its shoulders right down to its wrist. Its hand clawed into something spectacularly repulsive and whipped out at me, almost catching my face.

  “Not the face,” I insisted in a mocking voice, kicking out at the thing so it would back off. Another one flew at me from the right, slamming us both into Peter’s back. He shoved right back, and my attacker and I rolled on the floor until I jumped back to my feet and took out the dagger. The weapon glowed in the strangely dull lighting, a cooler blue than usual, and they all took a step back, the one on the floor crawling backward rapidly. Their wariness intrigued me. Everyone seemed to know more about my weapon of choice than I did.

  “All we want are a couple of answers, okay?” I held up my dagger to make the most of the threat. “That’s all. We were told to come here, and we’ll leave as soon as we’ve gotten the information we need.”

  The group separated as one swayed in between them. “We have no answers for your kind,” it said. I thought it was a male, but couldn’t tell for certain. The creatures were pretty androgynous in appearance out of their human forms.

  “Then why are we here?” Peter yelled from behind me, making me jump.

  Glancing at the heavens, I took a deep breath. “Someone knows something. What if some of your own people are in the slave markets, trapped without a chance?”

  “We can’t mate with humans. None of our offspring could end up there.”

  “So you’ve heard of it?”

  “Everyone hears whispers. None of us can help you get there. And none of us particularly care what is done there. It affects us not.”

  I laughed. “Just give it time, mate. Haven’t you heard? There’s a war coming, and everyone’s going to be dragged into it. Whether we like it or not.”

  The voice of the group ignored my words, but the others tensed collectively when I mentioned a war.

  “Leave now, and we won’t try to stop you.” But his tone held more pleading than demand.

  I shrugged. “I think I could take a few of you down with me.”

  “We’re a peaceful species, protected by the—”

  “Yeah, and I have the say so of an angel, so we kind of outrank your bullshit. I mean, I would go. No bother. I couldn’t care less about this crap right now. But him?” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at Peter. “He can’t walk away. He has a problem. Even if I manage to drag his arse out of here, he’ll be back when you’re asleep to set the whole building on fire. Like I said, he has a problem. So give him something good, and maybe he won’t act like a prick later.”

  The thing stared at me. I had been expecting something a little more humanoid, but the more I looked at it, the more alien it appeared. Finally, it nodded, and inside my stomach, the ball of panic deflated a little.

  “One question,” it said. “Because there are scarier things out there than a human and his half-breed pet.”

  “I’m nobody’s pet.” It never failed to annoy me when people said that.

  “Really? You aren’t doing his job for him? You aren’t working for the vampire queen? You aren’t working for the Council and the traitor angel? From where I’m looking, you’re a pawn in a game that’s far larger than you imagine. A dumb attack dog with an unworthy master.”

  “Fill me in, then. If you know so much.” Damn it, the creature had me excited. I kept getting closer to revealing the secrets, but never quite finding myself there. It was infuriating.

  “One question,” it repeated, and a ripple moved under its skin.

  “All right,” I said hastily. “Peter, one question. Make it a good one.”

  “Where did they take my son?”

  Maybe not the best question, but there was no talking to him somet
imes. Another night wasted.

  The creature looked from me to Peter and spoke one word in a calm voice. “Hell.”

  With a harsh yell, Peter let go of the creature he still had pinned to the wall and swung around. I ducked in time to feel the faint breeze from a dagger flying over my head. The knife hit the creature in the neck.

  Always with the dramatics.

  The thing didn’t drop. It pulled the knife out of its neck and threw the dagger straight into the wall. Its wound knit together rapidly with only an insignificant loss of dark blue blood. “Get out of here.”

  Clicking noises echoed behind it as its people prepared for battle.

  “Come on,” I said to Peter. “They’re nobodies. They know nothing worth knowing.”

  We backed out of there.

  A scornful voice called after us, “I didn’t lie, and I wasn’t mistaken. If they took that child, then they took him to hell.”

  With a hand on Peter’s arm, I pushed through the crowd to the front of the building, pulled him outside, and ran, dragging him behind me.

  “Hold on,” he said, shaking me off. “I need to hear it.”

  “You don’t. You don’t need to listen to some idiot creature showing off about things he doesn’t understand.”

  “What if he’s right? What if Emmett went to hell? What if he suffered?”

  The pain replaced the madness in his eyes. What ifs. The things that hurt us most. I shoved him against the wall and pressed myself against him. “Shut up. Shut the hell up. You’re not this stupid, so stop acting like it. What’s with you?”

  He wrapped his arms around me, laying his chin on my shoulder, and I was so surprised that I let him. We were so bad together, so bad for each other, but the comfort was so worth it. If only it were always that way.

  “Ever feel like time is just slipping out of your hands?” he asked. “We aren’t getting anywhere with this, and you have other stuff you need to do. I feel as though I’ll never find out what happened to my family that night, and I’m starting to think I don’t want to know.”