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Replica(38)

By:Shannon Mayer


My dreams caught hold of me as I slept.

The smell of oak on Antonio had stirred up the darkness of my past, dredging up memories I had avoided—no, run from.

The dark of the night caressed my skin; I hated it. Hated that I had become the very thing I’d fought for so long to destroy. I went to the only place I could find respite, the haven that had taken me in after my family had been shattered.

The Cazadors held their secrets tightly, and their places of safety even closer. The crumbling castle didn’t look like much, but it was in the hidden passageways that led downward that I finally felt my fear slip from me. Death was not something I ran from, no. I would be with those I loved.

With those who had loved me.

The passageways were silent as always, but the smell rolling up through them caught me off guard. Blood.

Far too much blood for a sanctuary.

I ran toward the smell, feeling it on my skin like a band that strangled me as it grew stronger.

In the last few steps, I stumbled and fell to my knees. The scene was straight out of my nightmares.

The bodies strewn about, the blood on the walls, viscera coating the floor.

“No, no!” I screamed the word over and over again, my head flung back.

We were the last band of Cazadors, the last of those who hunted the night.

“I found them through your memories.”

I was on my feet in a split second, facing the direction I thought the voice had come from. “I will find you and spit you over an open fire!”

“And laugh while I scream? Rather melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“I will kill you.” I spun again, the voice seemingly behind me now.

“I doubt it. You are weak. You want only death, but you are death, Cazador. That is your calling now, to prey on the weak. To feed from them.”

“NEVER!” The word ripped out of me and I ran from the place I’d called home and into the dying night. Never. I would never prey on the weak. I would hunt down the one who’d made me.

The one who’d taken my second family from me.

I jerked awake as the jet gave a shudder. Captain Johnson’s disembodied voice crackled over the speaker. “We’re getting ready to land at Heathrow in about an hour. Shouldn’t be more than another one-hour delay. Everyone stay on the plane.”

“Lea, you okay?” Rachel asked.

I turned to her, realizing only then that I still had my fingers on her wrist. I pulled back.

“Yes.”

“Nightmares?”

That she’d guessed so easily should have upset me. But it was a relief to share even a small part of myself with her.

“Yes.”

“Bad.”

I nodded. “I’m going to chat with the captain. Make sure the compulsion is still on him.”

Rachel’s blue eyes softened—only a little, but I saw it. “You want to talk?”

“Not yet. Maybe later.” I stood and walked away from my first friend in a long time.

I paused mid-stride and couldn’t help but glance at Ivan. He slept still, snoring softly. Maybe two friends in a long time.

What in the world was happening to me? If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up going soft.

And soft wasn’t something I could afford to be.





CHAPTER 18





RACHEL



Lea disappeared into the cockpit and I turned in my seat. Antonio sat in the last row, on a front-facing seat across from a back-facing one. He flashed me a grin that pissed me off six ways to Sunday. I had no idea what he was up to, but I sure as hell was going to find out.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and moved to the back of the plane, sitting in the chair across from his. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” I said sarcastically.

His grin spread and he sat upright in his seat. He gave off an air of nonchalance, though he was anything but. As his sharp eyes watched me, his fists slightly tensed. “I believe I introduced myself when you got into the car.” He shifted, then held out his hand. “Antonio Valdez.”

I sat back in the seat and crossed my arms. “Rachel Sambrook, but you already know that, don’t you?”

He winked.

I stifled a groan. One of those assholes who thought he could get a woman to do whatever he wanted. “You work for Victor?”

“Everyone needs a job, no matter how unsavory.” A non-answer. His gaze flicked to the front of the plane. He was talking about Lea, but I wasn’t sure in what context.

“So where do you fit into the whole supernatural hierarchy?”

He shifted, resting his arm on the armrest, but his grin never wavered. “I’m on the outside looking in. Courtesy of my job, of course.”

“Oh, really? Did your job have you working on the subway last night? Where I just happened to run into you. And you just happened to be carrying an extra silver blade. You need to renegotiate your contract if you’re really working 24/7.”