Page 112 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
“You have something that’s mine,” said Christian, his voice deadly soft. A shadow moved across one of the windows inside God of Vengeance, and Christian’s gaze snapped to the movement.
Top deck. Gotcha.
“Well, hello, friend! I’ve been so hoping we could meet,” came the hissed reply. “In fact, your girlfriend and I were just talking about you!”
Christian curled his hand so tightly around the phone the plastic casing cracked. “If she’s hurt, you’re going to wish you were never born!”
“Oh, she’s fine, aren’t you, little rabbit? A little bloody, a few broken bits, but she’s none the worse for wear.”
Christian went hot with rage at the intimate tone in Caesar’s voice and the suggestion—he hoped to God it was just a bluff—that Ember was broken and bloody. The world went black for a moment as fury blinded him, but he inhaled slowly and deeply, calming himself, willing his anger to focus.
Wanting Caesar to think him still at the bunkers so he retained the element of surprise as he silently crept nearer, Christian said, “I know it’s me you want. So I’ll make you a deal. Tell me where you are and I’ll trade—”
Caesar laughed. “No deal. At this point, I couldn’t care less about you. The cat’s out of the bag. My colony is already compromised, so I don’t need to kill you to stop you from outing my location to your little coffee klatsch anymore.”
He was referring to the Council of Alphas. They’d just love hearing themselves called a “coffee klatsch.”
“And now that I have September…well, we can just call it even for the two men of mine you killed. You took two, I took two. Tit for tat, so to speak!”
He laughed, a self-congratulatory, maniacal sound that sent something unpleasant crawling down Christian’s spine.
Tit for tat? What the hell was he talking about?
Then the yacht’s idling engines changed gear, and it began to glide away from the dock.
Christian had two choices. If he approached in human form and jumped on before the gap between the dock and the yacht widened too far, he’d give himself away; they’d hear him and scent him. If he Shifted to Vapor, not only would he have to stage a surprise attack totally nude, which was less than appealing, but he’d lose the weapons he’d gained from the guard’s clothing—a wicked folding blade, a handgun and the rifle. None of those would take care of Caesar permanently, but they’d certainly take care of whoever else was with him, and at least Christian would have a chance to snatch Ember and get the hell off the yacht before Caesar could heal from the magazine of ammo that had been unloaded into his brain.
But until then, there really was only one other option:
Swim for it.
Like all his kind, he hated getting wet in his animal form, and avoided it at all costs. But as a man, Christian was a strong, fast swimmer. And water had the added benefit of dampening his scent. If he was quick and lucky, he could swim to the stern and climb aboard unnoticed, all while keeping his weapons.
Decision made.
Christian growled into the phone, “We’ll never be even, you piece of shit. And I’ll see you in hell before I let you have her!”
Then without even bothering to disconnect the call he dove into the cold water of the marina with a neat, noiseless splash.
Caesar smiled at the look on Ember’s face as he lowered the phone to his side.
“In case you’re getting the wrong idea, your boyfriend isn’t coming to the rescue. He’s looking in the wrong place. Even as we speak, he’s probably sifting through dead bodies to find you far, far away. But he’s never going to find you, rabbit. You and I will have plenty of time to get to know one another properly.”
This was spoken in a tone of gleeful delight as he swaggered toward her. Halfway there, he stopped, frowned, and looked down at the phone in his hand. “Though I’ll have to jam the locator on this, we don’t want him figuring out—”
He cut off abruptly. He punched something into the phone, paused for a beat while he stared intently at the screen, then screamed “No!”
Nico darted in from another door behind her. “Sire? What is it?”
“He’s here!”
The instant he spoke those words, Ember saw a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. With an animal snarl, a dripping wet Christian bolted into the room and dropped Nico with a brutal fist to the face before he could turn. Nico crumpled to the floor at his feet, Christian grabbed the rifle he had slung over his shoulder, and Caesar turned and began to run.
Christian fired a volley of rounds that pierced Ember’s ears like cannon fire. A spray of bullets punctured the walls and shattered two windows before the gun jammed and Caesar vanished down a hallway. Blood misted the corner of the doorway he’d just disappeared around.
“Shit. Saltwater,” muttered Christian, jerking the magazine out and peering at it. Then, as if he’d just noticed her cowering on the couch, he spun and stared at her.
He dropped the rifle. In a heartbeat he was beside her, vibrating rage and danger, big and brawny with scalding green eyes as he knelt down and grasped her arms, his expression horrified, tender, and furious all at once.
