Chapter 21

Freddie

A s Freddie sat in the front row of the opera house, staring at the lush velvet curtain, his emotions churned in his gut. He was proud, so proud of Anthony, that he would make his debut at Manhattan Lyric Opera. He was thrilled and nervous to watch his love perform, but it wasn't enough to overcome the dread that the Azarians might take advantage of their few minutes apart to attack.

As the orchestra took up the strains of the overture, the mournful sound of the French horn washed over Freddie.

The opera began, and Freddie found it hard to focus on the chorus of villagers, or even on the lively soprano who played the title character of La fille du régiment . She was doing well, as far as Freddie could tell. She was certainly loud. But he was itching to see the face of his beloved.

As the chorus of soldiers filed in, Freddie's whole body tensed. He knew that something was amiss. He'd watched Anthony rehearse the entire show, running staging and traffic patterns in their hotel room. He knew the soldiers should be chasing Anthony, but his mate wasn't on stage.

With a confused look on his face, the baritone sang the line that would require Anthony's vocal response.

"Eh quoi! c'est l'étranger qui t'aime!…"

The silence that followed lasted an eternity. Before the stage manager could get on the microphone to stop the show, Freddie was out of his seat and had leapt onto the stage, not caring in the slightest that the audience of humans might question his supernatural athleticism.

"Come!" he cried out as he hit the stage, and Rose and Lillian dove from their two parterre boxes on either side of the proscenium.. Lillian fell into a roll, and Rose caught herself with her hands as she hit the deck.

They trailed behind Freddie as he rushed backstage, weaving in and out amongst the confused stagehands and supernumeraries. He couldn't scent his lover anywhere.

"He never even made it backstage!" he yelled as Rose and Lillian caught up with him.

"The stairwell from the dressing room is back there." Rose gestured to an exit off in the stage left wing.

Metal screamed as Freddie ripped the door from its hinges, bounding up the concrete steps three at a time. The scent of his mate's blood stopped him in his tracks.

"He's been hurt." The growl ripped from his throat, and his vision clouded over with the red mist. He was losing control.

The slap across his face came hard and stinging. "You can't rage right now." Lillian brushed the hair from her face nonchalantly. "We need you here with us. Find Anthony."

He squeezed his eyes tight. Freddie fought back against the crimson surge that threatened to overwhelm him. Locked in place, he was striving to keep his wits about him. Two firm hands pressed against his cheeks, and Rose's voice cut through the fog.

"Your demon can trust us, Freddie. We will find him. You are not alone."

His eyes popped open, and his breath burst from his lungs as he struggled for control of himself.

"My mate…I have to…"

"I know," Rose said. "We're here. I've fought under you. You've protected the coven with courage, even while you held yourself apart from us. Now you've found your mate. That is not a weakness. It is not a weakness to connect. We're here. We won't let you down."

Rose's eyes sparkled with determined compassion, and the wild rage flared inside him and died down. It wasn't gone, but it was under his control.

He nodded. "Thank you."

Rose removed her hands and stepped back. Freddie knelt down where the odor of Anthony's blood was the strongest. There were traces of it on the steps, but nothing to indicate a fatal blow.

"He is alive. Unconscious, I think. His dresser, Gabriela, was here, but I can't smell anyone else."

"How well do you know her?" Rose's eyes turned sharp and cold.

"Well enough. Anthony worked with her in Barcelona and he asked her to come along. She was charming and did her job well."

"She became his personal dresser after only a couple of weeks?"

Freddie nodded, then blinked, confused. It was odd that he hadn't even questioned it.

"Was she charming, or did she Charm you?" Lillian chimed in uneasily. "In the way of the old world vampires?"

"It's…it's possible. She'd have to be older than me, though, much older, old enough that she could Charm me without my knowledge. There are only a handful of vampires left who are that ancient, and I know all of them. I've never seen her before."

As he finished his words, he let out a gasp and touched his cheek. No blood, but that was the sting of a claw or knife cut. He was sure of it. Rage rumbled in his chest.

"Whoever has him is going to die," Freddie growled.

"What was that?" Lillian asked.

"Anthony is my mate. I think…I'm feeling his pain through the bond, even though we haven't completed it. We need to figure out who did this, and where they've taken him."

Rose and Lillian made eye contact, dread on their faces.

"What's wrong?"

"Gabriela de Aragon." Rose took a deep breath. "She died decades before you joined the coven. A mutually fatal fight with a thousand-year-old vamp from the Carpathian Mountains."

"Or at least we thought she died." Lillian sighed in frustration. "She had a tendency to turn sociopathic humans into vampires."

"She sired Charles Azarian," Rose said, her eyes hard.

Freddie growled and punched the wall of the stairwell. The surface of the concrete crumbled at the blow, and cracks spidered down to the floor. He surveyed the area one more time and sniffed.

"Whether it was Gabriela or Azarian or someone else, they cleaned up well. There's no scent trail from here. We have no way of following."

"The Azarians have multiple strongholds in Manhattan," Lillian said. "They have several large ships docked on the Hudson somewhere around 55th, and they've got their claws in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and hideouts underneath—"

I'm underground, in a room. There was a train. I'm not sure if I'm at a station or not.

Freddie put his hand up, cutting Lillian off as Anthony's voice filled his mind. "He's underground." He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate.

That Anthony could communicate while still human spoke to the strength of their bond, and the intensity of his emotions. The sending was faint, but it was there.

I'm coming, my love. Freddie doubted the words would reach him, considering Anthony was human, but even if the specifics didn't come through, the intention might. Freddie opened his eyes.

"Wherever he is, he can hear the train."

"The Azarians have control of several tunnels," Lillian said. "It has to be somewhere near here."

We're in an abandoned subway station. Please come for me, Freddie…

"They're in an abandoned station." Freddie shouted. "We have to get to him!"

"91st Street Station." Lillian started bounding down the stairs, and Freddie followed. "That's the closest of their hideouts."

"I'll catch up." Rose had her phone out. "Garrett needs to know where we're going."

They moved with inhuman speed, darting between pedestrians and cars so quickly that Freddie doubted anyone even sensed they were there. Fear pulsed through his bond from Anthony. It spurred him on.

When they reached the doors, Freddie snapped the padlock off like a toothpick, and kicked the thick metal door, which collapsed in half. They were down the stairs in a moment, and the minute they hit the platform level, Freddie could hear Anthony's heartbeat, fast but still strong.

The sound pulled Freddie forward. He followed it towards an area of the station that must have been closed to the public. As he almost reached it, a voice in his mind stopped him in his tracks.

Freddie. Report, Master Hughes commanded.

They have Anthony. I'm going to kill Charles Azarian.

Waves of disapproval pulsed through the coven master's bond with him.

No. Give us time to get there.

Freddie froze, paralyzed. He could not disobey Master Hughes, but his mate was in danger, steps away.

Master…

No, Freddie. We have to—

Freddie sensed the whimper through the incomplete mate bond before it hit his ears. Anthony was hurt. Taking a few steps closer, the rusty aroma of his love's fresh blood hit his nose.

He's injured. The old law releases me from your command.

Freddie!

There were few things that modern vampire society held onto from the bad old days, when the only rule was "might makes right." The one sacrosanct tenet from the beginning was that the safety of one's mate overrode any other command. Partly because the death of the vampire's mate would be followed swiftly by their own, and partly because the pain at a mate's injury was incapacitating.

Freddie burst into the room, flinging the door off to one side. Inside the dirty, deteriorating subway office, a tall, effete vampire flinched, fear flashing on his perfect face. That had to be Charles Azarian.

Gabriela showed no emotion. Her clawed hand was around Anthony's throat.

The crimson surge no longer fought to control Freddie. His demon knew Freddie would give it the blood and carnage it desired.

"Gabriela de Aragon."

"Ah, the muscle finally did some research." Gabriela's voice wasn't angry or maniacal. It was matter of fact, as if the situation was a mundane business transaction.

Freddie sensed Lillian enter behind him and stand off his right shoulder. "Why aren't you dead?" she asked.

"Some decrepit Carpathian hermit couldn't take me out. But he was a convenient excuse. Too many people were interested in my comings and goings. I needed a new beginning."

"Don't talk to them, Mother!" The words poured out of Charles Azarian in a hoarse screech. "Until we can set up a meeting with Oliver, we have nothing to say."

Freddie turned to the tall vampire, whose petulant expression betrayed his calm elegance. "I speak for my master."

"Bullshit! I want to see Oliver."

Rose entered and flanked Freddie on the left. "The coven master is mated, married, and has an empire to run. He has no time for your petty desires." Her bitter tone echoed her twin's.

"Oliver is mine! His coven is mine!" Charles touched the scar on his throat as if reliving a memory. "When Oliver betrayed me, when he gave me this , he forfeited his life. All of you will serve me."

"I don't think so." Freddie took a step towards him.

"Mother!" Charles let out a shrill whine as he stomped his foot like a child.

Anthony yelped as Gabriela's claw tightened around his throat.

"No, no, no. None of that," she said.

The powerful grip pressed around Freddie's own throat as he experienced Anthony's pain secondhand. Freddie's veins burned with their need to punish his mate's attacker. Rose placed a hand on his arm to steady him.

"Yes, calm the brute." Charles was still vibrating with anxious energy, but his smirk showed that he thought he had the upper hand. "Dear Freddie wouldn't want to see his mate's lifeblood spill out on the dirty concrete."

A sharp growl sounded from the door. As one, they turned to see the source. Garrett stood in the doorway, his eyes feral and his claws long and sharp, more animal than human.

The room erupted into chaos.

Garrett flew across the floor in a storm of bloodlust, separating Gabriela from Anthony and slamming her into the nearby wall. Rose and Lillian lunged for Charles, and Freddie was at Anthony's side in an instant, his claws slicing through the ropes that bound Anthony's hands.

"My mate…" Freddie's words caught in his throat.

"I called to you. You heard me." Anthony rubbed the wrists of his now-freed hands. He brought them up to rest on Freddie's chest.

Freddie nodded, getting lost in Anthony's eyes as he looked down at him. "You are mine. I will always come for you."

"I love you." Anthony's eyes shone in the dim light. "I do."

Freddie kissed him, hard and desperate, needing to feel his mate, to calm the demon beast inside of him. He would never allow himself to be separated from Anthony. Anthony would never face this kind of danger again.

A loud shriek broke through their quiet bubble, and Freddie slid in front of Anthony. No one would get near his mate.