Night Unbound(107)

Zach wasn’t nearly as tired as Seth and suspected he would have a hard time reining himself in, too. He wanted the bastard dead in the worst way now that he knew Aidan was guilty. He turned to Chris. “Can you do anything to prevent Aidan from freeing himself by using mind control on the guards and getting them to unlock his prison door once he’s in custody at the network?”
“Yes,” Chris responded. “Teleport me there now and give me a couple of hours. I’ll have my guys weld the door of one of the holding rooms closed so the guards won’t be able to free him even if they want to.”
“What’s to keep him from teleporting out?” Zach asked.
Chris swore. “Can you sedate him when you capture him?”
“Yes.”
Seth spoke up. “Use the same dosage the new vampires used on Lisette. Even as old as he is, it should knock him out for a day or two. Have Melanie prepare an auto-injector for you before you leave.”
“I’ll do it now,” Zach said.
“No, let her rest a little longer. Chris needs the extra time to weld the door shut anyway. And chain Aidan with the strongest chains available. If he should awaken earlier than we expect and is chained, he won’t be able to teleport without taking the whole damned building with him.”
“Oh, I’ll chain him.” Dark anticipation rose within Zach. “Trust me. He won’t escape. As soon as Chris calls me and lets me know they’re ready for him, I’ll bring his ass in.”
“Don’t kill him,” Seth reiterated.
“I won’t,” Zach promised.
He never said he wouldn’t hurt him.
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Chapter Sixteen
Aidan sat in darkness. Alone. Waiting.
He had sent his Second on a series of errands that would keep him away until sunrise, so the modest home they shared was quiet.
Aidan knew what was coming.
Or who was coming.
The soft leather of his favorite wingback chair, worn smooth by the many hours he had spent in it over the decades, creaked as he slid his booted foot off his knee and planted both feet on the floor.
His arms rested upon those of the chair, his hands dangling over the ends.
Aside from the beating of his own heart and the nearly undetectable rustle of his clothing as his chest rose and fell with each breath, no sound infringed upon the night.
Quiet, once a balm, now pricked him like needles.
He had to force himself to remain still, to suppress the desire to pace. To rage. To commit violence.
Someone had been inside his home.
He had known the instant he had awoken. Someone had been inside his home and inside his head.
Aidan had found a single drop of blood on his pillow. Had felt something . . . off in his mind. In his thoughts. And he’d known.
Only one immortal could’ve entered his home without alerting Aidan’s Second. Only one immortal could’ve then forced Aidan into a virtual coma while he dynamited the walls Aidan had erected in his mind, prowled around, and stole memories that didn’t belong to him.
Seth. Leader of the Immortal Guardians.
Once a friend.
A friend no longer.
Aidan’s fingers curled over the ends of the chair arms and gripped the leather.
He had heard that some hitherto unknown immortal had been fielding Seth’s calls for the past couple of days. Rumors had been flying over why. And over the mysterious immortal’s identity. Apparently he was ancient. Yet no immortal had ever heard of him.
Aidan didn’t know the who, but—unlike the others—he didn’t have to speculate on the why. Seth knew. He knew an immortal had betrayed him and, like a bloodhound, had been sniffing out the culprit.
Aidan didn’t know why Seth hadn’t confronted him after scouring his damned brain. Something must have called him away. Perhaps the mortal woman, Ami, whom Seth had come to love like a daughter. Rumors abounded over her, too. But Aidan didn’t concern himself with such.
Seth knew.
And, when he returned, there would be a reckoning.
Aidan tensed as he abruptly heard the heartbeat of another.
His eyes pierced the darkness, his vision sharper than a cat’s, yet failed to find the elder.
He rose. “I know you’re there. You may as well show yourself.”
The silence stretched, broken only by that slow, steady heartbeat.
“Seth . . .”
The air stirred. A fist plowed into Aidan’s face, striking him so hard that Aidan flew backward and went through the wall behind him. A shadow, moving so quickly that even Aidan couldn’t see him clearly, poured through the gaping hole he had created and delivered another blow. And another.
Aidan fought with nearly three thousand years of training at his back and barely managed to land a punch. It was like trying to fight a tornado.
Fingers wrapped around his throat, lifted him, and slammed him down so hard the wooden floor buckled and Aidan damned near fell through to the first floor.