Page 184 of Vampire so Virtuous
“No sign of him, but we’re getting our asses kicked.”
Damn.“We’ve been played, Gabe. I was the diversion. You’re the real target.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
“Where are you?”
“Top of South Tower.”
“What, South Station?”
“No, mine. Avery street. Above my penthouse.”
“Too many damn towers.” Antoine checked his GPS. “Half an hour away, but the traffic looks heavy.”
“It’s Boston, my friend. Of course it’s heavy. Try to get here within the hour? Maybe you can mop up the blood.”
The line went dead.
“Noah? Get all the thralls we have near Gabe’s territory to make for Avery Street. The rooftop.”
“Sure, Boss.”
His pulse quickened and he reached for the bond, confirming what he already knew as it pulled him east: Cally was at Avery Street. Gabe had said he wason topof the building? His mind rushed, tangling with images of her—vulnerable, exposed.
They couldn’t know. Could they? If someone went after her… It made his stomach twist in a way he hadn’t felt in decades.
He cursed, his teeth grinding as he forced himself to relax his grip on the wheel. She wasn’t just his responsibility. Without her, he would not survive—but it wasn’t only that. The thought of them taking her, using her against him, sent a sharp, unbidden anger through him. That made her a weakness in more ways than one. If they got to her, it would change everything.
It couldn’t be Belle. Could it? Belle would’ve killed them both by nowif that was her goal. No, it was Minh—Minh and his damn schemes. Cally was just another piece. But no… she was more. She always had been.
Whatever trap Minh had planned, it had been triggered, and Gabe was exposed. If he fell, Cally would die too, whether or not she was the target.
How the hell had Minh learned they’d allied?
But the answer was obvious—they’d been careless at the meeting with the Curia.
Antoine wove through the traffic, ignoring the blaring horns. A car jerked aside to avoid him, triggering a four-car pileup in his rearview mirror.
The roads were too busy to make it in less than an hour, but darkness had fallen. He’d go as far as he could, then he’d abandon the car and take to the rooftops.
Forty-two – Cally
Joon was teaching his usual black belt evening class when she walked in. There only five students, all rising stars on the way to their second dans—except for one familiar face, who might be aiming for his third.
She leaned against the wall, watching as Joon corrected one of the students’ technique. He exchanged a quiet word with the student before heading toward Cally, the class continuing their sparring.
“Did we have a session this evening?”
“No. Just a spur-of-the-moment visit.”
“You missed your last two sessions.”
Cally winced. “I know. I need to talk to you, okay? Are you free after this?”
“Yeah.” He paused, studying her. “You all right?”
“Something’s happened, and, well, let’s wait until the class is done.”
