The Kindred

Her temper pricked. “It means,” she shouted over the god-awful techno music, “that this isn’t a safe place for either of you boneheads.” She took a breath, but it didn’t help. Now that they were out of Fabian’s range, she all but exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking to come here without me?”

Aware of their cover, Luther glanced around, and that infuriated Gaby, too. “Give it a fucking rest, will you? No one normal can hear or see in this fucking atmosphere.” She forged forward. “Let’s go. By now, Ann is probably so pissed off she’s ready to kill.”

They passed a guy holding a hypodermic, ready to inject a willing woman. Luther paused long enough to lean down and growl something dire in the guy’s ear. When the young man handed over the hypodermic, Luther expressed the liquid into the air, broke off the needle, and pitched it all against the wall.

With a shove, he sent both the guy and the girl toward the entrance.

Gaby shook her head at the futility of it. “This place is fucking crawling with imbeciles. How the hell do these people survive, being so stupid and so incredibly reckless with their own lives?”

Looking like a thundercloud, Luther replied, “Damned if I know.”

Everywhere Gaby looked, perverse activity took place. She couldn’t take it. She wanted to start busting heads—and yeah, that was likely why Luther hadn’t invited her along.

Knowing that and liking it were two very different things.

With Gaby leading, they turned a corner and went down a quieter corridor. She opened a lock on an isolated and unused office.

Before she could turn the doorknob, Ann burst out, red-faced and vibrating with fury. “Damn you, Gaby. How dare you lock me away?”

Stunned mute, Luther stared at Ann, and no wonder. Her hair rioted, her face flushed, and the veins in her temples throbbed.

Resisting the urge to point out her state of disarray, Gaby rested back against the wall. “I dared because that skinny vampire-worshiping boy you wooed had a sedative-filled needle hidden in his pocket. He planned to stick you with it the first time you blinked—with or without your permission.”

Ann blanched even as she continued to breathe hard.

Gaby waved a hand. “This whole fucking place—”

“God almighty, Gaby.” Luther glared at her. “Find another adjective, will you? Even for you, the language is a bit much.”

Gaby tucked in her chin. So now he wanted to remonstrate with her on her guttural speech?

She clenched her fists. “This fucking place is filled with perverts and predators hoping for an opportunity to take advantage of everyone else—including you two.”

Flattening a hand to her forehead, her eyes showing her shock, Ann sucked in three deep breaths.

Reluctantly, she looked at Gaby again. “How do you know that?”

“How do I know anything, Ann? I just fucking do.” Doing her best to tamp down her rage, Gaby shoved away from the wall. But, damn it, as much as Ann irked her, she didn’t want the woman hurt.

She didn’t want anyone hurt—except the few she targeted herself who had it coming.

Pivoting, Gaby went nose to nose with Ann. “After he had you all pliable, you wouldn’t have had much say in anything he did. At least this way, you got to keep your wits and your high-class virtue. I figured you’d prefer that to rape in a dirty corner with a lot of yahoos watching, cheering him on, and maybe taking turns.”

Ann’s mouth opened and shut with nothing coming out.

“Yeah.” Gaby smirked. “You don’t strike me as the type to enjoy a gang rape much. You’re a little too cultured for that sort of play.”

“Gaby,” Luther chastised, but he sounded tired.

Knowing she wouldn’t get a thank-you, not even expecting one, Gaby added, “I stuck the little creep with his own damn needle and left him passed out on the john floor. Whatever happens to him, I don’t much care.” She turned to lead the way back out.

Before she’d taken three steps, Ann’s hand closed on her shoulder.

The contact was so ripe with emotion, Gaby paused without complaint.

Seconds ticked by with no sound other than the repetitious music. And then Ann said, “Thank you.”

Gaby didn’t face her. She couldn’t.

Luther stepped up alongside her. “Now what?”

Gaby used her elbow to viciously smash a glass cover on a wall-mounted fire alarm. “Now we get wet.”

She grabbed the handle and yanked it down.

Piercing alarms cut through the bedlam, and sprinklers sprayed out icy water, dousing everyone and everything and sending the doped patrons to scatter.

“This way,” Gaby instructed, leading Luther and Ann to a side exit unmanned by the coordinators of the rave.

Once outside, Luther turned his back on Gaby and pulled out his cell phone. He put in an official call and within minutes cruisers were in the area and had the building surrounded. As he, Ann, and Gaby stood off in the shadows unseen, arrests were made by the dozens.

Everyone with illegal drugs in his pocket or in his blood was hauled in.

Luther and Ann watched the controlled confusion without comment.

Gaby watched them.

Seething tempers formed steam that rose from their damp clothes. They didn’t look at her.

They were still furious, but they were safe, and in the end, that’s what mattered most to Gaby.

It’d be a long ride home, she knew, but what the hell. She had unspent energy, so if they wanted to fight, she’d oblige them.

Chapter 11

Still burning with irritation, Luther looked at Gaby but spoke to Ann. “We met someone, Fabian, who might be key to all this. Tomorrow evening we’ll visit him on the pretext of Gaby getting a tattoo.”

“No pretext to it.” Gaby shivered with the cold and wet, but tried to hide it. Susceptibility to such commonplace weaknesses didn’t jibe with her self-imposed purpose on earth.

Luther reached for her arm, saw her slight flinch away from him, and almost lost his control. He clamped a hand on her, met her furious glare, and hauled her closer. “Let’s go.”

She tried to jerk away, but he kept a tight hold on her.

“Don’t manhandle me.” She dug in her heels.

Luther dragged her along. “The car is over here.” And then, because the thought of her self-sacrifice infuriated him, he added, “And you are not getting a tattoo.”

“Wanna bet?” She stuck a foot out and tripped him, which effectively freed her from his hold. Nearly dropping his bundle of drugs, he stumbled and almost hit the ground. He had to stop to grit his teeth, his rage clamoring for release.

Ann touched his shoulder. “Not now, Luther. Let’s get out of here first.” She shivered. “I’m tired, disgusted with it all, and freezing.”

“At least two of us are human enough to admit that.” He saw Gaby stiffen and almost regretted the verbal jab.

But damn her, she had treated him like a child, like an unskilled buffoon incapable of handling the very fiber of his job. And on top of that, she planned to get a tattoo just to facilitate a closer inspection of Fabian’s tattoo parlor.

Out of habit, and because she was close, Luther put a warming arm around Ann.

As if she had eyes in the back of her head, Gaby stalled in front of them. Slowly, so slowly that Luther could almost hear a drumbeat crescendo accompanying her movement, she turned to stare with deadly intent—at Ann.

Saying nothing, not moving, she stood there until Ann rolled her eyes and inched out of his reach.

“Let’s don’t provoke her,” Ann suggested. She strode ahead of Gaby and opened the car door to get in.