Graves of Wrath

by Lina Gardiner

  She’d been burned by holy water more than once, but since she’d arrived in Paris, she’d taken to carrying a bottle of it, just in case. Tonight, she’d neatly hidden it in her pocket. She popped the cork stopper and held it aloft. “Try to avoid letting any of this hit you, Morana. It’s holy water, and it burns.”

  “Jesus,” Morana screamed, stepping back and letting Jess toss the contents at the looming beast. The water hit the shadow’s center mass. At first, it didn’t seem to have any effect, but two seconds later, it started to sizzle and steam. A keening moan echoed inside it making it waver, then diminish in size. That gave Jess the idea of reciting a prayer. A prayer of salvation.

  The shadow instantly shrieked and flattened onto the sidewalk before slithering into the cracks of the wall so quickly, it was hard to follow its movements.

  Suddenly, her head started spinning. She might have passed out for a second because suddenly Britt was crouching beside her, taking her arms and helping her up. She wondered why, until her legs gave out and she collapsed against him.

  That was when he picked her up as if she were weightless. “Crap, Jess. I should have come with you.”

  “Where’s Morana,” she asked weakly.

  “Your so-called twin? She took off,” he said, acid dripping from his words.

  A weird sensation rippled through her. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, noting that even her voice was weak and her body felt drained of most of its energy.

  Britt gave her a serious once over. “You’ve been sliced open. You’re actually bleeding, and your wound looks very bad.”

  Bleeding. Vampires didn’t bleed. She glanced down to see her inner arm had been opened. “It must be poisonous. That kind of injury shouldn’t even slow me down.”

  “We’ve got to get you to Regent and Sampson. The toxin is spreading way too fast.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m a vampire. I can survive this little wound,” she said. “I can probably walk by myself, too. I have something important to tell you . . . .” No sooner had she uttered those words than she felt the last vestiges of her energy draining away.

  She fell into the void and then was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  BRITT RACED DOWN the street on pure adrenaline, with Jess in his arms. He knew there were certain things that killed vampires instantly. So far, she was still alive, but he had no idea how she’d been affected by that demon. His heart raced at the thought. He couldn’t lose her.

  Her skin around the wound had turned black, with arterial lines spreading and moving up her arm toward her face. By the time he neared Regent’s apartment, her neck had been compromised. Before they made it inside, the black lines had spread and moved along her jaw. What would happen when her face was completely covered?

  The security door was always locked, so Britt slammed his elbow against the buzzer to Regent’s place.

  “Yes?” Regent said. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me,” Britt shouted. “Open the door—Jess is hurt.”

  The buzzer rang like a friggin’ firehouse siren in Britt’s head, echoing his panic. He tore up the steps and kicked Regent’s door open before the priest had a chance to open it. Jess had gone slack in his arms.

  Was he too late? Dear God, it couldn’t happen this way.

  Both Regent and Sampson crowded around Jess who was still in Britt’s arms. Sampson grabbed his doctor’s case then asked, “What happened to her?”

  Britt gave them an immediate account.

  “Get her on the couch,” Sampson said in a stern voice.

  Britt shoved through and gently set her on the couch. Her head flopped sideways while her eyes stared unseeing at the wall behind him.

  “Dear heaven! Look at her arm,” Regent said, immediately putting a sash around his neck and starting to pray.

  Sampson got out a syringe and injected some of his own blood along the slash line. He had healed her this way once before. Was it possible again?

  Britt moved out of the way and waited at the end of the couch while Sampson worked on her.

  He started his own private regime of silent prayers, intermittently broken by panic. How in hell were they going to fight off these demons? If Jess survived. Dear God! No, don’t think like that. And that bitch Morana ran off and left Jess to die.

  Anger welled up inside him until he got control in order to open his heart to recite a healing prayer for the woman he loved beyond life itself. He’d think about that coward Morana when the crisis was over.

  Sampson had sweat glistening on his forehead. Regent’s lips were moving, his eyes closed. Every now and then, he’d open them to look at Jess’s injury, then close them again, and go right back to praying more fervently than before.

  Finally, Britt couldn’t wait any longer. “It’s not working.”

  Sampson stopped injecting the blood and leaned back on his heels. Regent opened his eyes and tears slipped quietly down his face.

  “It’s not a vampire injury,” Sampson said. “It’s demonic. What works on a demon?”

  “Holy water, for starters,” Regent said. “But that would make things even worse. The prayers are having minimal effect.”

  Sampson dug in his bag for anything else he might use. When he came up empty, he shook his head slowly.

  Britt’s gut tightened so hard, it felt like a muscle spasm. “You’re not giving up,” he said, scanning Jess’s features now that more of the black poison had worked through her system, patterning more of her face. “Regent, have you got any herbs left?”

  Regent nodded quickly, but more tears spilled down his cheeks. “But she always says they don’t work.”

  “Anything is worth a try right now, isn’t it?”

  “I think Britt’s right, Regent,” Sampson said. “Who knows? Maybe the herbs, in tandem with the blood injections, will heal her.”

  Regent rushed into the tiny room off the kitchen and opened a cupboard. The odor of dried herbs filled the small apartment instantly.

  Regent pulled leaves from several bags and used a mortar and pestle to crush them before he added the tiniest bit of holy oil. He stirred them all together quickly with his hands, praying for salvation the whole time.

  The scent of the mixture changed once the oil had been added. It was pleasant, and Britt couldn’t stop from inhaling deeply. It seemed familiar to him, somehow. Was that the scent he remembered when he’d been brought back from death? After the bastard vampire named Constantine had killed him?

  At least, everyone had thought he was dead . . . until he’d been stolen from his coffin and taken to where a secretive group of monks were holding out in New York City. For weeks, he’d suffered endlessly. He had no idea at the time that his body had died and that someone with great ability was in the process of reanimating his veins, tissues, and organs. The pain had been merciless, but the scent of the oil had helped to calm him. He had to pray it would do the same for Jess.

  Regent sprinkled the small bits of herbs into her open wound, then placed both hands over it and prayed even louder.

  Suddenly, Britt had the urge to touch Regent’s hands, which were holding the bandage on Jess’s arm. Britt placed both hands over Regent’s, and pressed until a blue light erupted from his solar plexus and slid quickly down his arms. It hovered for a moment and then pushed itself through their hands and into Jess.

  The process created a burst of air, forcing their hands away when the light impacted Jess’s flesh and melted into her. Britt hoped to hell it didn’t kill her. Uriel had told Britt he couldn’t harm Jess with his light, but did that mean he could heal her?

  Sitting back, he waited where he could better see the subcutaneous movement of the light as it moved through her. The black arterial lines were slowly receding, but Jess was still unconscious.

  Finally, her incision bega
n to heal, slowly at first and just at one end. But as the extensively branching black lines disappeared, the wound seemed more able to heal itself.

  When her flesh was clear of all traces of the infection, the light erupted from Jess’s flesh just above her heart and flew back into him. Britt felt nothing, could feel nothing, until he knew that she would make it.

  Sampson bent over Jess and patted her hand gently in an attempt to revive her. “Jess. Jess. Wake up. You’re going to be okay,” he said.

  “Jess,” Regent urged. “Wake up, please!”

  Britt’s knees turned to jelly. He dropped to the floor beside her because his body had virtually become boneless. His world would end without her. He willed her back to him, but she remained unconscious. What had happened to his damned blue light? Why hadn’t it worked?

  He barely dared a glance at Regent. “Is she—gone?”

  Regent’s frown lines suddenly dissipated at the sight of the burgeoning morning sun through the living room window. “Maybe not—if she’s gone into stasis.”

  Britt followed his gaze. “OMG! We have to get her into a room with no windows fast,” he said, grabbing her and lifting her quickly.

  “The hall closet is the only place that is completely sealed when the door is shut,” Regent said. “Let me quickly clear out the shoes and coats.” After he and Sampson emptied the closet, Regent grabbed cushions off the sofa and made a quick mattress for her.

  Britt clung to the hope that Jess was merely in stasis—that they had actually healed her. Dawn was fast approaching and there was a chance that she’d merely moved into that undead state until nightfall. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t know if she’d made it until later that evening.

  Regent shut the door tight and they looked at each other. It was going to be the longest day of their lives.

  DURING THE DEMON assault, Morana ran like a scared schoolgirl, leaving Jess at the mercy of that horrifying attacking shadow. After all, she’d put herself in that position. No one had asked for her help.

  Still shaking from actual goddamned fear, she ran toward sanctuary—LaCave. The club had closed two hours ago, making it the perfect place to go. At one point, she’d halted and pressed her hands over her face, thinking about how Jess had been slashed open. It would have been her body cut like that, if not for that stupid woman’s intervention.

  Yeah, she’d seen the shadow slice Jess open, just as she’d torn away into the night. But at least Morana would live to fight another day. She looked out for number one. Her twin should have learned that lesson long ago. Too bad that Regent would be so broken up over the loss of his sister. Irritation spread through her body. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think she’d fill in.

  Since sunrise was imminent, she’d have to use her secret room in the catacombs for stasis.

  Before she entered the tunnels, the reality of what had happened tonight fully hit her. She slammed a hand against the wall, making part of the brick crumble away.

  She was a coward! She’d always believed herself to be the bitch who feared nothing, but now she had to face the real truth—she’d panicked and left Jess to die. She could pretend she didn’t care about everyone else, but inside, she was the only one who knew that she ruined everything she touched. It was Sinclair’s fault. He’d raised her that way.

  An ugly sensation burned in her stomach. Britt had witnessed her cowardice and she was sure he wouldn’t let her get away with what she’d done. Maybe she was more afraid of retribution from him than the fact that she’d abandoned her sister.

  She gasped as her arm suddenly burned. Smoke wafted off her when a thin beam of sunlight reached her. Uttering a string of curses, she dove down the stairwell and landed at the bottom with a few more burns. Shit! That smarted. But the wounds would heal during her dead time.

  But first, she needed to get to her secure location. It wouldn’t be good to be caught down here by a cataphile or a cop while she was in such a vulnerable state.

  She surged down the tunnels at a speed only a vampire could manage. The darkness and damp air soothed her burned flesh. If only she could gouge out the image of the shadow ripping Jess’s arm open and seeing her fall to the ground, just as easily.

  Relief flooded her when she made it to her safe room and quickly locked the metal door. She’d cut it close before, but never this close. She hadn’t quite reached the bed when her world went dark.

  She smiled. Morana looked out for herself—always.

  No one else mattered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BRITT SAT WAITING while Regent and Sampson had tea and toast. Personally, he couldn’t eat a thing until he knew Jess was okay. If only he could check on her, make sure she hadn’t turned to dust inside that closet.

  “She’s okay, Britt. She’s going to be okay,” Regent said, as if he could read Britt’s mind. Hell, whatever he was thinking was probably written all over his face.

  Britt lowered his head and gripped his hands tightly on his lap. “What if she’s not?”

  “She is! Think, man, you sent your healing light into her—the same light that saved Uriel from vampirism, the same light you used to save yourself a few nights ago. You have the power to save Jess. Your love will not fail her,” Regent said.

  Weight edged slightly off his shoulders. Regent had a way of making people believe him. “I couldn’t have done it without the herbs,” Britt said, releasing his hands from the grip that had made his fingers practically numb. “The more I think about it, the more I realize there was something about the odor of the herbs and oil that struck a chord in me. That scent forced the light out. Hopefully, it managed to heal Jess.”

  Sampson shook his head. “I wish I could test your blue light. Take a sample and see what it’s made up of.”

  “Is that possible?” Britt asked.

  “Probably not. It’d be like trying to bottle lightning.”

  “I will submit to tests whenever you like,” Britt said. “But not until Jess is okay.”

  Sampson looked heavenward. “That’s okay, Britt. There are some things we have to take on faith. Your light is one of those things. I believe in you and your light, and so does Regent. And Jess believes in you more than anyone.”

  Britt hated the pressure they’d put on him without meaning to. If Jess died, that would mean he’d failed her. His blue light wasn’t a gift but a horrendous burden. And worse, how would Regent take it when Britt told him that Morana had run off and left Jess to die?

  She’d taken off like a scared cat. Vampires didn’t do that. They were usually fearless. His Jess was fearless. Britt had known from day one that Morana was trouble, yet even he was surprised by how much of a coward she was. If Jess died because of it—and because he’d waited too long on the bridge—he’d never forgive himself . . . or her.

  Regent appeared to be using his skills as a priest to keep himself from falling apart. He couldn’t properly concentrate though, often stopping mid-sentence and staring at the closet door. Then he’d get up and stalk around his apartment, looking at every knickknack, before lowering his head again in prayer.

  All three of them were very aware when the sun finally lowered in the sky. It seemed to take forever, but the second it extinguished, no one moved. Instead, they sat at the kitchen table, staring at the closet, waiting for the door to open.

  Britt listened for any sound, but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart driving blood through his veins and into his brain.

  When the closet door rattled and Jess opened it, the three of them jumped to their feet simultaneously. Her hair was a mess and her skin had pink marks everywhere the veins had been black. She had deep shadows under her eyes and was still sitting on the floor after she’d thrown the door open. She looked like hell, but she was alive.

  “You shoved me into your closet, brother? Why?”

 
All three of them raced toward her, but she held up her hands to ward them off. “Back off. What’s wrong with you three?”

  “You don’t remember?” Regent asked.

  “Oh, I remember, all right,” she said. “I remember that demon trying to dissect me. But wait! There’s something important I have to tell you.” She paused, and took a breath. “Weird as it seems, for a moment or two, I got inside its head. The demons have an agenda. They aren’t just random devils roaming the streets; they’re planning to take over Paris.”

  “Crap,” Britt said. “We’ve got to find a way to stop them, and fast.”

  “Tomorrow, I’m supposed to visit the two priests who’ve been possessed,” Regent said. “I think it’s time we learn more about what these creatures are doing to people.”

  Still sitting on the floor in a lotus position, she ran her fingers through her hair. “I feel like my arm is stuffed with dry leaves,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bandaged wound.

  “It kind of is . . . my dear,” Regent said. “It was my herbs.”

  “And they worked?” she asked in an astonished voice.

  Regent grinned from ear to ear, and sat beside her on the floor. “They actually might have helped, you know.”

  Sampson patted Britt on the shoulder. “Those, in combination with Britt’s blue light, healed you.”

  Jess looked at each of them in turn. “Is that right?”

  “Maybe you’re not a vampire any longer?” Sampson suggested. “After all, Britt did save James, Terry, and Sephina.”

  Jess’s heart twisted. Wishful thinking. It wasn’t Sampson’s fault—he didn’t know. She hated to see the hope cross Britt’s face. Don’t do this to yourself, Britt, she willed. But it was too late. Sampson had planted the seeds and she could tell Britt wanted to believe it could be true.

  “Don’t want to break your bubble, but I’m still a vampire,” she said, poking the cold flesh of her arm and trying to sound tough so no one got too upset about her death-sentence. “But at least I’m still kicking,” she said.