Bonedust

you can keep him and the vampire will someday catch up with him and kill you both—your choice.”
    Urban snarled and hung up, stalking across the snowy drive. He thrust his hands into his pockets, but they were restless. He stared at the moon in the sky, but it seemed to mock him. “Fuck!” he screamed, not caring who he woke up or what hour it was in the morning. His heart twisted; if he didn’t give Gabe up, Jeremie would find him. It was just a matter of time. Urban had hoped they could outrun his past, but you couldn’t. You could never outrun your past. It always caught up with you. Urban knew that better than anyone.
    Gabe wouldn’t make a good hunter—Dante would turn him cold, emotionless. His fear would turn bitter, into dark hatred and he’d be no better than Dante. He pressed his eyes shut, pacing the ground. But wasn’t that better than Gabe becoming the very thing he hated? A vampire, to live the rest of his life the slave bitch of a sadistic master?
    He felt the burn behind his eyes, in his sinuses, and he focused on breathing.
    Gabriel would choose Dante over a life stuck with Jeremie. And Urban wanted to do what Gabe would want to do, even if it killed him. Blinking back tears, he headed back for the apartment. One more night with Gabriel, cuddling the man to his chest. One more night and then he’d set him free…
    He swung the door open and froze. The room was exactly as he’d left it just minutes before, but something was off. Emotion hung heavy in the air, like a scent you could try and try to get rid of but it never left. And his eyes fell to the bed, the sheets twisted but empty. His heart slammed into his throat.
    “Gabriel!” he barked hoarsely, sliding towards the bathroom—please, Halcion, let him be taking a leak. But the light was off, the room cold. Empty. His eyes lingered on the pillow, to the strange shape there. He tore back blankets to find a canine skull, bleached white and cracked along the gum line, like the dog had suffered a slow and painful death.
    The Bonemaster had Gabriel.
    His world spun, dizzying circles that made him run for the bathroom. He retched, but nothing came up. He sucked in breaths, forcing himself back to reality. Gabriel was gone. Gabriel had been kidnapped…
    He had to find him. If that was the last thing he did, he would find the man and stake the blood-thirsty fucker who had taken him.
    “Pandora!” he yelled, and the hound appeared at the door, a silhouette against the moonlit night. “Let’s go. Hunt, girl. Hunt!” He jerked the sheets off the bed and offered them to her. She looked perplexed, but quickly dropped her muzzle to the ground, turning on a dime to dart out the door.
    His finger pressed the button in his ear, dialing Dante’s number one final time. “Ta?”
    “I don’t care what it costs—I need your help. Gabriel’s been kidnapped. I’ll be in your debt forever, but Halcion help me,” he pleaded. “Meet me at the Boneyard. Gabriel said it was in western Cable. I’m sure that’s where Jeremie took him.” He didn’t wait for a reply; he pressed the end button and took off at a dead bolt, his feet pounding the asphalt as he ran, but he knew it would never be fast enough.
    Please, Goddess, please…

    ***

    Gabriel’s eyes shuttered open, then closed once more. His chest was tight, fire burning along his ribcage. His arms… He tried moving them, but they were leaden, stiff. No, wait. His eyes slammed open as he struggled, but a glance up showed his hands uselessly encased in crystallite shackles, chained to either bedpost on a cruelly familiar bed.
    No… No. Halcion, no! A strangled sob escaped his lips and he tore his gaze around the large bedroom. Done up in reds and blacks, it probably pleased its vampire master.
    His heart lodged in his throat, beating helplessly like a caged bird, as he saw Jeremie. The man stood in the doorway, arms braced on either side of him, wearing nothing. His skin was as pale and smooth as alabaster, his hair framing his face in blond curls—a face that made any angel look hideous. His deep red eyes gleamed with pent up emotion: betrayal and pure, liquid fury.
    Jeremie stalked closer, then pounced onto the bed. “I can’t believe you,” he hissed, fangs flashing. “Leaving me behind, leaving little darling Caine to pick up the slack while you traipsed around and fucked a snake !” His roar rattled the glass in their panes. “You’re mine.” He raked claws down Gabriel’s