Chapter Seven
Katie awoke in a mental institution. At least, that was her first impression of the eight-by-eight room with its steel-framed bed, simple mattress, and no furniture. The wooden door and whitewashed walls--along with the open window above the bed allowing in balmy air--soon brought to mind a more tropical place. She rose and flinched, expecting agony as she moved her arm. It was bandaged and stiff, but there was no pain.
She tugged the heavy door open by its old iron handle and gazed into a large square of grass, a courtyard, around which many similar rooms with heavy doors were arranged. Airy hallways led through the hacienda style structure on either side of her. There were more buildings past the hallway to her right. The hallway led into an open area with one car in the large parking lot and a medieval stone wall and turrets surrounding the entire hacienda. The heavy wooden gates marking the entrance to the compound were closed.
Stairs traced the inside of the thick wall, and she walked up them to figure out where exactly she might be. The effort made her dizzy. She leaned against a wall, overlooking a stretch of rocky terrain punctuated with patches of yellow-green grass. In the distance, she saw the blue of an ocean meet the horizon.
And one dark form seated on the rocks, staring at the walls like an angry puppy thrown out of its master’s house. She touched the tattoo at her throat.
Serves you right, she thought darkly then said outloud, "I’ve saved your life twice now, jackass."
He flipped her off, confirming he heard her.
"Vile creature," a cool, crisp voice said.
She turned, surprised to see the middle-aged woman in grey robes and sharp brown eyes.
"But he did save you," she allowed. "There’s something in that."
By the austere clothing and stern features, Katie assessed she was in some kind of religious convent.
"Come. We’ll feed you real food. You needn’t worry about him," the woman said in her crisp voice, leading her down the stairs. "He can’t come in the walls."
"Is this a holy place?"
"It is."
"Will he burst into flames or something?" she asked.
The woman chuckled. "No, we’ll just kick him out again."
Katie trailed the fit woman through the hallway, past her room, and down a second corridor. The scents of fresh bread and some sort of meat cooking nearly nailed her to the ground as she rounded the corner. The woman led her straight into a small cafeteria with rustic tables and benches, an open fireplace, and a sagging buffet table along one wall. The windows were open with no glass, and heavy iron chandeliers hung from thick wooden rafters and were burning real candles.
"What is this place?" she asked.
"Have a seat. This is a Sanctuary, one of four remaining in the human world."
As soon as she sat, another woman in similar robes with a flushed face appeared, serving tray in hand. She placed warm rustic bread, whipped honey butter, and water before her. Katie bit into the bread, determined not to eat like a heathen that would shame her sister. At the first taste, she wolfed it and three more pieces down until the edge of her hunger disappeared.
"Wow," she murmured, and gulped her water. "What exactly is a Sanctuary?"
"We're like the Switzerland of the immortal world. All four Sanctuaries are neutral territory, governed by Death," the woman said with a small smile. "Any immortal who comes must check their weapons--and their talents--at the door, or be rendered dead-dead by Death. Only the Ancient Ones and Death may pass with their powers intact. We normally expel the Ancient Ones. They disturb the order here."
Katie sat back with a contented sigh, gaze dropping to her arm. She frowned. Rhyn had never hurt her until then. Granted, he wasn’t exactly himself at the time, near dead, starved, weak.
She’d never thought a creature like him weak. Yet she’d felt it when their bodies touched. His guard was down, and she’d felt just how weak he was despite taking her blood. She knew he could’ve taken so much more, made himself stronger by bleeding her dry. He didn't, instead taking only what he needed to survive.
"He brought you here," the woman said, her eyes on Katie’s bandaged arm. "We have a member of the healing guild on staff, but her skill wasn't old enough for you. We did what we could. You’ll have full use of your arm, even if it's scarred."
"I’ve gotten so many…marks…the past couple of weeks. Don’t think another really matters at this point," Katie said.
The woman’s gaze dropped to her neck, and Katie caught the troubled look in her eyes before she hid it. There was reason to fear the Ancients, especially this Ancient, who seemed to have no alliance to anything good or bad and was so unpredictable. At least he’d thought enough of his blood monkey to bring her here, if only to keep her healthy so he had a food source.
She frowned, troubled by her thoughts. Rhyn was weak but drew only what he needed to survive; he was both hunter and hunted. He’d claimed her, whether in a fit of jealous fury after hearing Kris’s name or for some other purpose. In her mind, dragging a human around seemed like a pretty serious liability.
She didn’t understand him. Or this world. Or why she couldn’t just go back to her life and be normal again. Her throat tightened. Willing herself not to cry, she pointed to her neck and said instead, "Do you know what this means?"
The woman hesitated and took a slice of bread, toying with it.
"You’re his mate," she said at last, as if this should mean more than it did.
"I know. So?"
"You’re his mate."
"Assume I never knew this underworld existed before a little over a week ago," Katie said dryly.
The woman studied her for a long moment. The second woman with the flushed face returned with a plate heaped with half a cooked chicken smelling of garlic and spices, rice, and fried plantains. Katie dug in, unconcerned with the woman’s silence while there was food in front of her.
"If it helps, I’m allegedly special somehow," she prodded around a mouth full of food.
"Of course. You were born an immortal's mate,” the woman replied. “Still, you'd have to be something more to attract an Ancient."
"Why?"
"It’s just the way things are." She paused then shook her head. "I’m Daniela."
"Katie."
"Welcome, Katie. Your mate dumped you on me in the middle of the night. I knew he was an Ancient--a powerful one--but he wasn’t much for talking."
"Yeah, he’s like that. Drags me around the world without telling me where or why we go anywhere," Katie said.
"You said you’ve known him a week?"
"I’ve known him a few days. I was introduced to this world a few days before that. I don’t know anything about either."
"Very, very unusual. No Ancient would…" Daniela drifted off, thoughtful.
Katie held her breath, awaiting the awful news. Daniela shook her head again and smiled.
"What’s so significant about being his mate?" Katie asked.
"It’s hard to explain to an Outsider. There are only so many immortal mates born into the human race, far fewer than there are immortals. It was believed that no Ancient would ever take a mate, because none ever have. For all other immortals, they get only one shot at a mate in its life cycle. One mate. That’s it. Many immortals go extinct without taking a mate at all. They wait so long, they forget they can have one, or they choose not to have one, or they simply just don’t."
"Why would any Ancient creature choose me?"
"I don’t know. I’m sure he knows."
"I’m not so sure about that," Katie said with a shake of her head.
"There is the theory that the mates of Ancients are predestined like those of other immortals, that if the Ancients don’t find their mates during the mates’ life cycle, they never will," Daniela said.
"That’s kind of sad."
"Yeah, it is."
"I buy into this preordained theory. Rhyn wouldn’t saddle himself with a blood monkey he had to actually take care of volun
tarily. Doesn’t seem like the type who wants to be slowed down by a liability like that," Katie mused.
Daniela shrugged.
"Or he wants to use me for my talent," Katie added. "I could see that."
"Unlikely, since he only gets one, unless he planned on dying dead soon. If he doesn’t die-dead, he’d have to spend eternity with you. Maybe it is predestined. He’s the least friendly Ancient I’ve ever met."
"He’s been in Hell for a long time," she replied. "Wait, did you say eternity?"
"Of course."
A familiar headache started, and Katie stuffed the last few bites of food down her throat, feeling ill for a different reason. She hadn't been able to keep a job or a boyfriend for more than a few months, let alone an eternity!
"You got whiskey?" she asked.
"We make our own alcohol. It’s closer to brandy."
"Bring it out."
As if on cue, the flushed cook returned for her plate, and Daniela ordered the brandy and two glasses.
"I don’t get this whole free will thing," Katie complained when the cook returned. She poured herself amber liquid and took a long swallow. "It’s not really free if the choice is made for you."
"The immortals must give humans a choice. It’s Immortal Code. They’ve been working for millions of years to get around this one; they’re quite crafty at it. You may have wished your life to be different or made some statement in anger. They’re better than lawyers when it comes to taking things out of context, and there are no judges keeping track of what really happened," Daniela explained.
"It’s a sham."
"It exists to protect mortals, and in many cases it does. In some, it doesn’t. It just depends on the immortal and how he or she chooses to interpret the Code."
Katie wasn’t sure if the homemade alcohol was stronger than normal or if her weakened state made her more vulnerable to its effects. After two shots, she felt woozy.
"Are there any benefits to being an Ancient’s mate?" she asked.
"Prestige. You move to the head of the immortals’ hierarchy. Immunity to Death, children with magical powers--"
"Children?"
"--protection from enemies, a really comfortable lifestyle, and some mates even are able to tap into their immortals’ talents."
Eternity. Children. She couldn’t have one day without some sort of surprise or other? As if sensing her distress, Daniela poured her another two shots of brandy.
"Where are we?" Katie asked.
"In the Caribbean on an undeclared island."
"Undeclared?"
"Protected by magic. No one knows we’re here, except those seeking refuge," Daniela said.
"Is refuge…free?" Katie asked.
"Always. We sell our liquors and also are the beneficiaries of various immortals. The Ancient Andre, who became dead-dead recently, left us his fortune, as have many others before him."
"I met him. He seemed like a good man. Ancient. Whatever."
"He was the glue that bound the Council That Was Seven. Seven brothers with one common immortal father and seven separate mothers. Their father fought the Dark One and left his children to carry the torch. Only, the siblings couldn’t ever get along. It was said two of them turned on the others, aligned with evil, and only Andre had the power to kill any of the others. He was their elder, the peacemaker, and the executioner. He sentenced both brothers to Hell for eternity."
"Sasha and Rhyn," Katie said quietly, touching her throat again. "What did they do?"
"They turned on their brothers and against humans and the order of good. Massacred millions. The human race barely survived. The legends are thick in every culture, from floods to plagues to volcanoes and the ground rising up to swallow people, to the influence of men who slaughtered whole nations for entertainment."
"They did all that?"
"According to the legend. Sasha was the first to align with the Dark One, and Rhyn…"
"Rhyn what?" Katie demanded, holding her breath.
"They say he went mad when the woman he’d chosen as his mate chose Kris instead. She died at Rhyn’s hands. The legends don’t say what happened, but after Rhyn killed the woman, he tried to kill Kris. Andre stopped him, and Death made him disappear."
"How awful," Katie breathed. "Does that mean your theory about mates is wrong, if they fought over one woman?"
"Maybe, maybe not. It’s hard to know. Maybe she was an Ancient's mate, too."
Rhyn was a mass murderer, a creature who had tried to wipe out the human race. The story didn’t sit well with Katie. It explained his and Kris’s palpable animosity, but it didn’t explain why Rhyn was a prisoner. Or how Sasha swayed Jade. Or how Andre died.
Or why Rhyn kept her around, unless it was purely for her ability to make him immune from the magic of other immortals.
Katie drank more brandy, a familiar sense of panic deep in her chest. It and impending doom had been with her since meeting Gabriel. Her headache pulsed and she felt hot from alcohol.
"Think I’ll go for a walk," she murmured. "Thanks for the talk. Mind if I take this?"
Daniela filled her glass with two more shots and smiled. Katie raised the glass in a salute and left. It was muggier than she was used to, the air clinging to her already hot skin. It was near dusk, with the sky growing dark in the distance. She made her way to the wall, needing to feel the cool ocean breeze. Rhyn was gone, and she leaned against the wall.
A hand took her brandy and flung it and the glass over the wall. So he wasn’t gone after all. She glared up at him.
"You’re not allowed in here," she told him.
"You’re not allowed alcohol."
"If I didn’t keep learning how insane this world is every second of the day, I wouldn’t have to drink!"
His eyes glinted rather than flashed, his copper skin tight across perfect, chiseled features. He didn’t have Kris’s noble look or Andre’s delicate features. Rhyn was a wild animal with a wild beauty, harsh angles and planes, a body built for survival. He said nothing, and she offered her good wrist.
"You’re weak," he scoffed.
"So are you."
She dropped her arm and gazed up at him, troubled and lightheaded.
"You don’t look like someone who could kill millions," she murmured. "Then again, I saw what you did at the Arch." She shivered involuntarily. "Did you really almost annihilate the human race?"
He said nothing and mirrored her position, leaning against the wall in what she knew was irritated mockery.
"I don’t believe it," she went on.
"You’re a fool,” he replied. “I killed over a hundred of Sasha’s creatures at the Arch with only a fraction of my power. You think I can’t do the same to a bunch of weak humans?"
"You can’t hate humans so much if you chose me as a mate. Why did Sasha send his creatures after you?"
"I took you from him and escaped. He’s pissed and wants us both back. Probably heard you’re my mate." His silver gaze went to her neck and flared. She didn’t know how to interpret his look. His eyes slid away to the distance.
"Is it your duty to protect humanity?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
"More or less, as long as they’re not in my way."
"And I know firsthand how you take your duties."
He gave her a sidelong glance.
"You take them pretty seriously," she added. "You could’ve killed me a million times over, but I’m your mate. You haven’t, yet, because protecting me--albeit poorly--is still your duty. No, you didn’t try to kill humanity off. One stupid little human is so much easier to kill than a few billion, and you chose duty instead."
"You drink too much and talk too much. You should’ve died in Hell," he said.
"Tell me about it. Might have made life easier."
At her bitter note, he looked at her again. She felt angry tears welling and forced them back, soon distracted by the warmth in her blood. Other thoughts collided with her emotions, ones that reminded her tha
t she was forever trapped with some otherworldly creature that viewed her as a food supply and nothing more.
"Eternity’s a long time," she whispered.
"Longer than you know."
"You’re welcome for saving your ass, by the way."
"You interfered," he replied.
"It’s not how I remember things! I saved you from Hell, and I saved you from those things at the…at the Arch." Memories of the massacre made bile rise and her chest clench. "I’ll be a raving lunatic at the end of another week!"
He didn’t disagree. She wanted to scream at him, hit him, send him far away. Instead, she slumped against the wall, defeated by alcohol and impotent rage. It didn’t matter what she said or did; he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d made his claim clear.
You. Are. Mine.
"You chose me," she said. "I want to know why."
He was silent.
"You owe me this, if nothing else!" Her words were accompanied by a punch to his arm, one that merely earned her an impatient look.
Still he said nothing.
"Tell me why, Rhyn," she ordered, pushing him to face her. She glared up at him, swaying toward him.
His gaze slid over her face and down her body to her breasts. She gritted her teeth and waited. It was hard to reconcile the man before her with the creature that tore apart bodies like meat in a blender.
"I wanted you," he said in his low growl, the one that gave her chills.
"Why? So you could block others? Revenge against Kris? An easy food source following you around for the rest of all time?" She jabbed him in the chest with each question, unwilling to back down.
He snatched her upper arms and pushed her against the wall, his body close enough for their chests to brush when either breathed in. The silver eyes were fiery, and apprehension fluttered through her. His scent tickled her senses, his nearness making her warm body warmer.
"I. wanted. You." His words were forced through clenched teeth.
"There’s gotta be more!" she returned. "You’re immortal. You could have any woman you wanted in any time you wanted, including one who’d be far more docile than I am."
"You came after me at the Arch."
"Yeah. So?"
"Why?" he demanded.
"I knew you were in danger."
"You could’ve left me to my fate, and you didn’t. You were a loyal blood monkey."
The thought of leaving him to die had never crossed her mind. However, the thought of swan diving off a cliff the next time he called her a damn blood monkey was getting more tempting with each day!
"I can’t do this much longer," she whispered. "I can’t deal with all this shit."
"You’re strong. You’ll survive."
"I don’t want to survive! I want to be happy and not worry about creatures trying to kill me or how often I’ll be wandering into one of your massacres!"
"This--"
"I know, I know! This is my life, and I belong to you. You're such an insensitive bastard."
She strained against him. He didn’t budge. Exhausted, she rested her head, then her body, against him. She was tired of fighting, tired of his attitude, tired of everything.
He’d hugged her before, an anomaly, she was sure, until his arms now moved around her again. Would she ever understand him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and he sounded as if he’d rather she jump from a cliff than bother him.
And then he brought her here to be healed. He held her. At one point, he’d called her beautiful and tonight, he’d called her strong. He rested his chin on her head. She liked the way he smelled, how strong and solid his body was. It was more than comforting; she wanted to melt against him and stay there.
The intense sensation startled her. That a mass murdering demon was the only man she’d ever felt so comfortable with made no sense. She’d risked her life to rescue him because it was what good people did. After all, in his own twisted way, he'd tried to help her.
"I still don’t believe you," she murmured. "There has to be another reason you chose me."
He said nothing.
"If you’re hungry…" …you should eat. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
"Whiskey tastes like shit," he replied.
"Now who’s whining?"
"Careful, little girl," he growled.
"You’re not going to kill me. Might try to chew through my other arm. That hurt, Rhyn. You owe me for that. And for rescuing you twice."
"More fish?"
"You won’t even apologize for my arm, will you?"
"You should’ve left me," he said.
"So you repay me for rescuing you by eating my arm."
"You can’t face those things. You were a fool to follow me."
"I didn’t follow you," she snapped. "I traveled through the shadow world, which is also how I got you back! You think I lugged your heavy ass for two miles?"
"You found your way through the shadow world on your own?" His words were measured enough that she looked up.
"Got a problem with that, too?"
"It’s as it should be."
She studied him. There was some satisfaction in his response, the first shred of positivity she’d heard from him yet. Their gazes locked, and she felt a different kind of warmth slide through her.
Could she really be sexually attracted to an immortal mass murderer of millions? It was not a stretch, not with his muscular body pressed against her and his rugged features so close. Even the liquid silver eyes that once terrified her were hauntingly beautiful, when not glowing like some hell-beast’s. She liked his smell, his warmth, his strength…even his snarkiness.
She was crazy. There was no way a monster like him would ever be interested in his blood monkey!
He touched her neck, and she waited, assuming he’d take blood from her despite his distaste of alcohol. His thumb traced the line of her jaw lightly, and heat skittered through her. He lowered his head, and she bared her neck. Though his hot breath tickled her, he didn’t bite her. The pad of his thumb traced across her lower lip. She closed her eyes, breathing growing shallow.
He nipped her neck, and she gasped, embarrassing herself. Her blood was thrumming even faster than the alcohol alone would have caused, her body growing too warm for comfort.
His lips traced the line from her neck to her jaw with small, hot kisses, sending exquisite shivers through her. There was a pause before he kissed her lightly on the lips, his full lips oh-so-warm. God help her, she responded! She tried to tell herself it was the alcohol scattering her thoughts and not the growing feeling of respect or concern she felt toward him.
Sensing her yield, he deepened the kiss. It became less of a request and more of a demand, with his tongue flickering to taste her. He tasted like he smelled, rich and musky, his kiss intense enough to dispel the fogginess of alcohol. She’d never felt anything like his kiss or the warmth that flowed through her. She wanted more of him, all of him, and the heat of need settled into her lower abdomen.
A throat cleared behind him. Rhyn twisted his head away with a warning growl, and the world crashed down on her.
What in the name of everything holy was she doing? Getting ready to tear her shirt open and throw herself down for a monster? She felt the heat--his heat--within her, branding her from the inside out.
"Sire, you’ve been warned," Daniela said in her crisp tone.
Rhyn turned to face the robed woman, and Katie slid away from him. Her thoughts jangled in her head, some desperate for him to continue, others claiming she couldn’t go home if she started down this path, and still others saying she was screwed either way, figuratively and literally.