Forbidden Passion Page 12

  Marlena’s pulse kicked up, and she followed him into his lab. He gestured to a printout from the lab. “Take a look.”

  Marlena studied the notations. “There’s an extra chromosome, and other genetic abnormalities.”

  “Yes. I checked the subject’s file and this sample came from Gerald Daumer.” He glanced up at her over his thin wire-rims. “This mutated gene might prove that your theory is correct. That his condition is biological and chemically related.”

  Hope bubbled in Marlena’s chest. If they discovered other similar genes and isolated specific abnormal genetic properties, maybe they could alter them, thereby altering the violent behavior as well.

  Dante clenched his jaw as he stared at the Vaitrez men. “I don’t have family. Never have. Never will.” He jerked a thumb toward the door. “So get the hell out.”

  Quinton’s eyes turned to lasers, piercing and defiant. “Yes, you do. I have premonitions.” Quinton removed a newspaper article from inside his jacket.

  Dammit, a story Jebb Bates had written.

  “When I held this photo, I had a vision of you as a child,” Quinton continued. “I saw us together when our mother left us with the Monks. We’re fraternal twins.”

  “Your last name is Zertlav,” Vincent said. “Zertlav is Valtrez spelled backward.”

  Dante’s ears buzzed. “What kind of game are you playing? I never knew any Monks.”

  Yet even as he protested, déjà vu struck Dante. Something about another boy as a child.... He’d been small, scared, as he’d looked up at two mysterious men wearing long dark cloaks. Later they’d locked him in a tiny, dark concrete room.

  Was that a monastery?

  “The Monks separated us to keep us safe from our father,” Quinton continued.

  Dante’s gaze locked with Quinton’s. The man’s eyes were just like his. Dark brown, bleak, filled with horrors. Cold, as if he could kill without blinking an eye.

  And other resemblances—the wide jaws. High cheekbones. A hint of devil in the voice.

  Still, he didn’t dare trust them. This could be some kind of trap.

  He had no family. He was alone, belonged nowhere, belonged to nobody but himself. And he didn’t want it any other way.

  “Bullshit,” Dante said. “My family was killed long ago.”

  Quinton frowned. “You were raised by demons. They probably lied to you about your family.”

  “I didn’t believe we were related in the beginning when Vincent came to me,” Quinton said in that deep hypnotic voice again. “But blood tests proved Vincent and I are related. Marlena Bender conducted the tests.”

  Then she’d studied their blood. “Marlena knows you’re demons?”

  Quinton’s sarcastic laugh boomed through the room. “Not exactly.”

  Vincent dragged an amulet from inside his shirt, and Quinton did the same. “Our mother was good. She gave us these for protection. My bloodstone stands for courage and Quinton’s clear quartz stone symbolizes his clairvoyance. She left you an amulet as well.”

  “I don’t have an angel amulet,” Dante growled, although another distant memory niggled at the back of his mind. Had he owned one at one time? Had Father Gio taken it from him?

  Vincent shifted, his frown deepening with suspicion, then he crossed the room and grabbed Dante by the collar. “We know you’re a firestarter. Did you kill those two women and set them on fire?”

  Dante ripped Vincent’s hands from his collar and shoved him away. “No.”

  Quinton started forward, but Dante threw up a hand in warning, his fingers burning with the itch to attack. “And for your information, the first woman bled out from bite wounds. The torching was only a cover to hide the real cause of death.”

  Surprise registered on both men’s faces. “Someone drained her blood?” Vincent asked.

  “Bastard left a Satanic S symbol at the kill,” Dante growled. “Now, why in the hell are you two really here?”

  Vincent muttered a string of expletives.

  Quinton scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We already told you.”

  Dante scoffed, then went to the bar and poured himself a scotch. He’d learned the hard way not to trust anyone or let down his guard.

  “I don’t play games, and I have a demon to find. So either spit out your real agenda or get the fuck out.”

  “This Torcher serial killer in Mysteria may be related to other crimes we’ve investigated.” Vincent cleared his throat. “Crimes orchestrated by our father, Zion. He’s the new leader of the underworld.”

  Dante downed the scotch in one quick shot, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Something he’d heard when he’d first gone to live with Father Gio nagged at his subconscious.

  A time when he’d heard Father Gio talking to the elements, ranting that Dante was meant for bigger things. That he had powers that he hadn’t yet come into. That one day when he embraced his destiny, they would bow down to him.

  But then he’d defied them.

  And now they viewed him as one of the fallen ones. As a weak link unworthy of their respect because he’d failed their tests and hadn’t killed Marlena.

  Dante frowned. The possibility that the Valtrez men spoke the truth yanked at another memory trying to claw its way from the buried spot in his soul.

  He’d been a little guy, three or four maybe, when Father Gio had taken him in. He’d heard rumblings about Zion, about his sons’ being all-powerful, future leaders of the underworld.

  Then Father Gio had separated him. Exiled him to live with the worst of the demons. They’d put him through hell. Tortured him. Taught him to hunt and maim his prey.

  Forced him to live in near isolation and the dark until he was returned for the initiation.

  “Zion wants us by his side,” Vincent stated. “He’ll do anything he can to turn you, go to any lengths to bring out your dark side and convince you to embrace it as he did.”

  “He’s already made attempts on both of us,” Quinton said. “But he failed, so now we believe he’s targeted you. One of his soldiers may be in Mysteria now in disguise.”

  Vincent folded his arms as if in challenge. “If you don’t believe us, get tested. Marlena Bender has our blood. See if we’re blood-related.”

  Back to Marlena. He didn’t like the fact that these men knew her, that they’d shown up in the midst of a demon attack. That their story was too damn sinister to believe.

  That part of him sensed it might be true.

  Marlena met with Dr. Sneed and Dr. Raysen for a consultation over the results of Gerald’s bloodwork. A knock

  sounded on the glass partition, and she glanced up to see

  Dante on the other side.

  The troubled expression in his eyes sent alarm through her, and she waved him in, then introduced him to both doctors.

  “We hope you find this killer soon,” Dr. Sneed said.

  “Yes,” Edmund said. “Then the people in town can sleep again.”

  Dante tensed. “I’m doing everything I can.”

  The doctors excused themselves to go back to work and Marlena turned to Dante.

  “What’s wrong?” Marlena asked. “Has there been another murder?”

  A vein throbbed in his neck, drawing her attention to his scar again, but he shook his head. “No. I’m still waiting on the ME to identify the second victim. You haven’t heard anything from Daumer?”

  Not a word.” She rolled .her shoulders, aching from studying her notes.

  “I need you to run a blood test for me.”

  Marlena frowned. “Whose blood is it?”

  “Mine.”

  She dug one hand into the pocket of her lab coat, confused. “What?”

  He sank into a chair, rolled up his shirtsleeve, and propped his arm On the patient armrest. “I had two visitors today. Vincent and Quinton Valtrez. They said you took their blood samples.”

  “Yes,” she said cautiously. “Why are you interested in them?” Both men had volunteered thei
r samples, but their blood had revealed abnormalities.

  Vincent had even admitted to having violent tendencies, but claimed he channeled them into his police work.

  An odd, almost pained look crossed his face, but anger simmered beneath the surface. “They paid me a visit claiming to be my brothers?’

  His declaration shocked her. “I thought you said your family was dead.”

  “They are.” He scrubbed a scarred hand over his head, spiking his black hair. “At least I was told they were.”

  “What makes them think you’re related?”

  “One of them, Quinton, claims that he has psychic abilities, that we’re fraternal twins, and that he saw us together as children, that our mother abandoned us.”

  Marlena’s head spun with questions. Questions she was afraid to ask. If Dante was related to these men, would his blood also have abnormalities? If they had supernatural powers, did he? “You don’t remember either one of them?”

  “No?’ Her eyes flickered with pity as she stared at his scarred arm, and he gave her a self-deprecating look. “I know it’s ugly. Just take the damn blood and test it, will you.”

  She clenched her jaw, grabbed her supplies, and wiped an alcohol swab across his arm, searching for a place that wasn’t scarred to draw blood.

  Dante’s scars had never bothered him; they were part of who he was. But the look in Marlena’s eyes tore at him. He was evil, ugly, scarred inside and out, and he lived with the knowledge that he used that dark side to track down predators and demons to protect the town.

  But having her see him exposed for the monster he was made his lungs squeeze in pain.

  A pain he’d never felt before. One he sure as hell didn’t want now.

  And judging from the odd look on her face when he’d mentioned Quinton’s power, she must have discovered something disturbing about the Valtrez brothers’ blood.

  “Marlena?”

  She jerked her eyes away from his puckered flesh and gave a quick nod. “Yes?”

  Her emotions evaporated into a cool professional mask, and she jabbed the needle into his arm. Her hands felt warm, tender, to his skin, and he gritted his teeth at the irony of having a woman who wanted to cure evil taking his blood. Her gaze locked with his, heat flowing between them along with unspoken desires, and for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t a demon.

  Rita Herron

  A bitter laugh threatened to escape. Hell, maybe she would find some kind of genetic way to cure the darkness inside him and save him.

  “There.” She removed the needle, pressed a cotton ball to his arm, and tagged and stored the sample. “I’ll run it

  ASAP.”

  He gritted his teeth as she applied a Band-Aid, then he rolled down his sleeves, buttoned the cuffs, and stood.

  “I have stuff to do. Call me if you hear from Daumer or if there are any problems.”

  She nodded, and he strode out the door wondering just what she’d find in his blood sample. If she figured out who he was, what he was, maybe she’d run from him to protect herself.

  He hoped to hell she did. Each time she touched him, his hunger for her mounted.

  Determined to get some answers, he had to find Father Gio. Confront him about the past and find out what he knew about Zion.

  More storms threatened as he drove to the mountain entrance to the underground tunnels.

  For the next two hours he combed the underground searching for Father Gio, at home in the tunnels and the darkness. But his thoughts were in turmoil. He wanted Marlena, but he couldn’t have her.

  He didn’t want brothers, but he might have two. Either that or they’d been sent to destroy him.

  And Father Gio and Zion might both be behind their visit and the killer.

  Ten minutes later, he paused beneath a jagged overhang and listened to a zombie and a vamp conversing.

  “Father Gio is back. I’ve heard the elements are planning a coup.”

  “He’s holed up in the north quadrant,” the zombie said. “Word is that he’s going to torture that sheriff for his defection years ago.”

  “Why now?” the vamp asked.

  “He has his orders.”

  A smile curved Dante’s mouth. The north quadrant. He knew exactly where Father Gio was hiding.

  It was time his old master gave him some fucking answers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Noises and voices reverberated through the tunnels as Dante strode through the labyrinth of corridors toward Father Gio’s haven. The Master had chosen a cave buried deep within the mountain, both for its intense darkness and for its isolation from the others.

  Stone pillars supported the front indention with sharp angles jutting outward like spikes, and images of vultures had been carved in the dusty gray concrete. He rapped the gargoyle knocker, causing a resounding lion’s roar to thunder through the tunnel.

  Shuffling inside alerted him that one of Gio’s minions was coming to answer. The heavy stone door screeched open, and a Scorpion demon stood on the other side, assessing him.

  Dante adopted a calm expression, not wanting to raise the demon’s suspicions. “I need to see Father Gio.”

  One claw reached up to motion him in. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  Dante set his jaw to control his burgeoning temper as he paced to the fire beside Gio’s throne, where he sat like the Master of Darkness that Dante had always known him to be. In spite of his defection, heat from the flames felt like heaven to his skin, and he drew strength from its warmth and vibrant glow.

  But he had to fight its intoxicating draw.

  “So you dare to return?” Gio said.

  “I didn’t come to stay,” Dante said, knowing he’d never join Father Gio’s side. Not after what he’d done to Marlena’s family. “I’m here for answers.”

  Father Gio’s scaly thick skin crackled as’ he smiled. ‘Answers to what?”

  “How I came to live with you. About what happened to my family and the recent demon attack.”

  Father Gio ran his fingers through his long white mane. “Your family is dead.”

  So who was lying? He had no reason to believe either the Valtrez men or Father Gio.

  The primal urge to throw fire nearly overcame him, but he quelled it. “Two men visited me, claiming to be my blood brothers. They’re demonborn just as I am.”

  Father Gio simply stared at him, his silver eyes sparkling with menace, as if he was weighing his answer. Finally he sighed. “I see. So they finally found you.”

  Dante swallowed back rage. “So it’s true? They’re my brothers?”

  Father Gio shrugged as if his lies and secrets made no difference. “Yes. The oldest, Vincent, killed your father years ago. I wanted to protect you from them. He might have killed you, too.”

  “Vincent claims that my father killed my mother,” Dante said, the pain of betrayal stabbing him. “That she was an Angel of Light, of good.”

  “Your mother had no place with your father. She almost ruined him,” Father Gio said harshly. “I couldn’t allow you to suffer the. same fate or be sidetracked from your destiny. I knew one day Zion would need you. You had to be prepared.”

  Heat speared Dante’s fingers, sparked by his rage. Father Gio was admitting what he’d done. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep me away from my brothers?”

  “Because you had a path to follow,” Gio said. “Your destiny is to use your powers for the underworld. I tried to teach you that. And we all believed that one or both of your brothers were the weak links.” His long, disappointed sigh echoed in the stench-filled air. “But then you fail you betrayed us, weren’t as strong as any of us thought.” Because he hadn’t been able to kill a little girl.

  Was that what his father had wanted him to do? Had he been born from that kind of demented evil?

  If so, maybe his mother had been right to send him away.

  “My destiny is to do as I damn well please.” Dante raised his clenched fist, ready to battle
.

  Father Gio threw up a warning hand, his eyes filled with wrath. “I wouldn’t start a war with me.”

  Dante’s gaze fell to the topaz angel amulet against Gio’s neck, and fury sizzled through his blood. With one hand, he jerked the amulet off the old man he’d once considered his father and held it in his palm.

  Instantly the topaz stone burst to life, an overwhelming heat radiating from the stone as it shot off crystalline red and yellow sparks. Dante felt stronger, empowered, as ii he had finally regained something he’d lost long ago.

  “You stole this because it gives me power and strength and protects me.” He threw a fireball, but Father Gio caught it in his hand with a snarl and tossed it back. It exploded at Dante’s feet, heat searing the soles of his boots.

  “You don’t want to battle with me,” Father Gio roared. “I have an army of demons, Dante, many Who don’t give a damn if they raise Zion’s ire by vanquishing you. If you start this war, you’ll lose.”

  Dante gritted his teeth. Father Gio was right. He could defeat a single demon, even two or three, but not Father Gio’s army.

  And not Zion.

  Together our powers are magnified, Vincent and Quinton Valtrez had said. He might need them to defeat Father Gio and Zion.

  But he wasn’t ready to trust them yet. And he’d wait to find out the results of the blood test before he truly believed they were related.

  “Are you behind the two bloodletting murders in town?” Dante asked.

  Father Gio barked a long hideous laugh. “Bloodletting is not my style. But this new demon, he is quite entertaining.”

  Dante barely resisted the impulse to attack.

  “Get out now,” Father Gio growled. “I don’t intend to help you defy your father. He is our leader and will rule the world. And I will help him.”

  Dante cursed. Not if he destroyed this demon and Zion first.

  Marlena left Dante’s blood with the tech at the lab to run the tests, then headed back to her office. She was still contemplating the fact that he might be related to the Valtrez men.