by Amber Kallyn
She shivered and Celeste reached for her hand again, but Shana scooted further away.
“In the middle was this counter, with more candles and a cool dagger lying on it.”
“What then?” Celeste glanced at Brandon, but he was concentrating on Shana’s words.
“Jess kissed me and started taking off my clothes. I don’t mind exhibitions, but I was feeling a little strange. When I tried to slow him down, he hit me.” Her eyes flashed with anger as she shivered.
A long minute passed. Finally, Celeste said, “And then?”
Shana blinked and met her gaze. “I hit the bastard back. The people in the shadows shouted, rushing closer. They ripped at my clothes until I was naked. Then Jess laughed.” She shivered again. “It was cold.”
This time, when Celeste eased closer and tried to take her sister’s hand, Shana let her, holding on tight.
“Jess pushed me toward the counter. I fell. He grabbed my hair and made me stand back up.” Shana’s voice grew hoarse. “He hit me again, then shoved me onto the counter. It was freezing, marble or something.”
She met Celeste’s eyes and said, “The people in the room, all of them, ripped their cloaks off. Everyone was naked. Jess grabbed the knife and raised it in the air, then started talking, but I’ve never heard that language before.”
Brandon asked, “Do you remember any of the words?”
Shana shook her head. “But the longer he talked, the more I felt... strange. Like I’d been doing drugs or something. I dunno, maybe he slipped me something. ‘Cause a few minutes later, the people in the room changed.”
“How?” Celeste asked, patting her sister’s hand.
“They turned into monsters. Like wolves and bears and things that can’t really exist. A couple guys stayed mostly normal, but they had red eyes and fangs, like vampires.”
Brandon fidgeted against the wall. It was all Celeste could do not to pepper him with questions.
“Go on,” she told her sister.
“Well, then Jess looked at me. He pointed the dagger at my chest. I didn’t even see him move, but somehow he cut me.” She drew a finger along her chest. “He laughed again, and said I’d be a weak offering to his Master, but at least I’d be of some use.”
Her heart was breaking for Shana, for the hurt in her sister’s eyes. The bastard was going to pay for what he’d done. She’d damn well make sure of it.
“Then Jess came closer. He pressed the knife against the side of my neck and told me not to move or I might lose my head.” Shana’s eyes turned pleading. “I couldn’t move, though. It was like I was frozen, too scared to even think. But I was trying to move, I really was. I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay to be afraid,” Celeste said softly.
Shana jerked her head. “No. It wasn’t that. It was... this is gonna sound crazy, but it was like someone put a spell on me so I couldn’t move.”
Celeste glanced at Brandon. His jaw was clenched so tight, a muscle ticked.
“The animals, creatures, in the room all moved back to the walls,” Shana said quietly. “Something banged on the ceiling. It sounded like this huge monster coming to get me. I panicked, terrified. And somehow, I managed to jump off the counter. I rammed my knee in Jess’ groin and ran.” Her eyes grew unfocused once more. “I don’t remember running. How I got clothes, or even how I got here.”
Celeste said, “Well, you’re safe now. That’s what’s important.”
Shana’s eyes cleared. “Jess laughed at me as I ran away. He said we were connected, and he’d never let me go.”
“He won’t touch you again.”
Shana didn’t look convinced. “I’d like to be alone now.”
Standing, Celeste said, “Get some sleep. I’ll be right down the hall.”
Shana lay back down, curling up. Tugging the blanket over her sister, Celeste fought her anger.
She reluctantly left, Brandon leading the way to the living room.
He stopped at the window, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
Reaching his side, she asked, “What the hell is going on?”
Brandon glanced at her. His eyes shone pure red. “Hell just might be the right word.”
Chapter thirteen
“Qué cabrón!” Celeste stared at him, a shiver crawling down her back. “You mean literally.”
“I do.” He glanced out the window once more. “What do you know of sorcerers?”
She snorted. “Magical. Powerful. I don’t know. Only what I’ve read, or seen in movies.”
“They are powerful. They can use dark magics for many things, including stealing souls, binding people to do their bidding. Force them to do anything.” His voice was dark, pained.
“You sound like you know from personal experience.” She longed to reach out and touch him, comfort him. But she wasn’t sure how. Or even if he’d let her.
He continued to stare out the window, every line of his body tight with tension. “Long ago, when I was mortal, a sorceress came to my family’s land. She had hellish creatures with her. They destroyed everything in their path. Killed my entire family except for my brother. He and I fought them, and for some reason, the sorceress let us live.” He laughed humorlessly. “If you call such an existence living.”
“How’d you get free?” she asked, unable to stop from laying her hand on his arm.
***
Startled, Brandon glanced down at her delicate fingers resting on his arm. Her eyes shone with compassion.
She was trying to comfort him even at a time when she was so worried for her family. Something inside tightened almost painfully as she helped draw him from the past.
Through his burning throat, he said, “A vampire rescued me and my brother, and killed the sorceress.”
“That’s how you became a vampire?”
“Yes.”
“So you think it’s a sorceress killing women here, now? How can we fight such a thing?”
He turned to face her, taking her hand and staring at it. She trembled, but didn’t back away. Shame at all he’d done in the past flooded him at the innocence of this woman.
Yet her strength comforted him in ways he’d never known possible.
Uncomfortable, he stepped away from her. “I need to get some food. I’ll bring enough back here that I won’t have to leave again anytime soon.”
Hurt flitted through her eyes before she could hide it. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she turned away. “All right.”
Unable to stop himself, he strode to her and spun her around. Dipping down, he kissed her, devouring her mouth.
She grasped his shoulders as if hanging on for dear life.
Drawing away, he said, “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
She nodded, looking slightly dazed.
Brandon left the apartment, torn and confused over the feelings stirring inside him. Part of him didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and protect her.
But whoever was out there didn’t know who she was, or where she lived. They’d not shown up at all. He would have seen the signs.
He had time.
Brandon headed for O’Grady’s. He could stock up on a week’s supply of blood, grab some food, then come back to Celeste.
***
Twenty minutes after Brandon left, a bang rattled Celeste’s front door. A grin crept over her lips as she hurried to let him back in.
Just as she reached the door, Hercules raced into the room, fur standing on end.
The kitten stumbled to a stop, facing the door and hissing.
The door rattled as someone knocked again.
Celeste stepped back as her kitten yowled. It couldn’t be Brandon. He would have called out by now.
Spinning, she raced to her bedroom and grabbed her gun from the bedside table. She hurried back down the hall, into Shana’s room.
Her sister glanced up, startled. The cell phone she’d been talking on dropped to the bed.
“Merida! El stupido, Sh
ana. Who did you call?” Celeste demanded.
“None of your business.” Shana reached for the phone, then froze as the banging on the door sounded again, louder and more insistent.
Shana’s face whitened.
Striding to the bed, Celeste grabbed the phone and glanced at the number before turning it off.
“Who were you talking to?” she repeated.
“A friend, okay?”
“Not okay. Someone’s here. They could have traced you by your phone,” she growled.
Shana stiffened, staring at the bedroom doorway.
On the other side of the apartment, wood crashed.
“Get under the bed and don’t come out until I say.” Celeste pushed Shana to the floor.
Her sister scrambled under the bed as heavy footsteps came down the hall.
Fur standing on end, Hercules raced into the bedroom just before Celeste slammed the door shut. She pushed the dresser in front of it, grunting from the effort, then sank to the floor.
Still hissing, Hercules jumped on her lap.
His little claws dug through her jeans, but she didn’t bother pushing him off. Punching in Brandon’s cell phone number, she waited on edge as it began to ring.
Behind her, someone rammed the door. The dresser shuddered against her back.
Across the room, under the bed, Shana watched her with eyes full of fear. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Celeste didn’t say a word as the phone continued to ring, then clicked. Brandon’s voice came on the line, telling her to leave a message. She remembered he’d left the phone back at the station.
She slammed the disconnect button, then stared at her useless phone. She couldn’t call the cops. They couldn’t deal with this.
Which left no one.
She was on her own.
Straightening, she glanced at her sister. It didn’t matter what it took, she would keep Shana safe.
In the hall, wood cracked as the banging continued. The dresser continued to shudder with each impact.
***
Brandon tapped his foot impatiently as O’Grady gathered the requested supplies. The old man was affable, but all Brandon could think about was getting back to Celeste.
One of the waitresses sidled up to the bar, whispering in O’Grady’s ear.
The man’s eyes widened as he turned to look at Brandon. Then he shoved a to-go bag in Brandon’s hands. “There’s a message for you, just came in. Someone called to tell you to back off. You and your little cop.”
The blood drained from Brandon’s face. He felt lightheaded as his heart beat madly. They knew about Celeste.
Without thought, he clutched the bag in his fist and sprinted from the bar, flashing through the night, heading for Celeste.
He could only pray they hadn’t found her yet.
***
Celeste rose on shaking legs, facing the door. “I’m armed. You have five seconds to leave before I shoot.”
The person in the hall laughed, slamming against the door again.
Taking a deep breath, Celeste aimed for the top of the door and fired a warning shot.
Silence descended.
Behind her, the window shattered as a large shadow burst into the room. She swung, bringing her pistol up. Before she could aim, pain raced up her hand as the gun was clawed from her grip.
She stumbled back, staring up into a partially cloaked face. Large, luminous green eyes, inhuman in shape and size, peeked from the shadow of the cloak. Sharp rows of teeth glinted from the creature’s grin.
Behind her, someone crashed into the door again. Wood splintered and the dresser screeched forward a few inches.
Celeste rushed from the door to stand in front of the bed. The creature barely looked at her as it flung the dresser across the room and ripped open the broken door.
From the hall, a giant of a man entered, his strength and bearing almost regal. Short black hair framed a pale, angular face. Behind him, two wolves peeked in, their eyes flashing a bright blue, low growls emanating from their chests.
Strength tried to desert her in the face of these creatures. Refusing to cower, she lifted her chin and stared at them, watching, waiting for them to make their move. Praying she could come up with some way to keep her sister safe.
The hooded creature glanced at the window, hissing, “Already he comesss, master.”
The crackly voice sent shivers skittering down Celeste’s spine. She glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon.
The giant came further inside, then squatted to stare under the bed. “Jess is dead, darling. Your connection to him has become mine. Come to me, now.”
Celeste took a deep breath. “Get out of my house and leave me and my sister alone.”
“You should be thanking me for killing the man who beat your sister.” He glanced up at her, flicking his hand as if she were insignificant. “Step away. You have no hold over her any longer. She is mine.”
Fisting her hands, Celeste stepped forward an inch. “She doesn’t belong to you and never will.”
“Really?” He raised a brow as he grinned.
From under the bed, Shana mewled as if in pain.
“Leave her alone,” Celeste demanded, rushing forward and striking out with her fist, aiming for the man’s face.
She hit only air.
Arms clamped around her, spinning her to face the bed. Shana was slowly climbing out from under it.
“Get back under the bed,” Celeste shouted.
Shana glanced at her, blinking, but her gaze was unfocused as if she were sleep walking.
“That’s right. Come, my dear. Come, and I won’t be forced to harm your delectable sister,” the man cooed.
Celeste shivered as the man trailed his slimy tongue along her neck. She tried shoving her elbow back, but connected with nothing. Raising her foot, she slammed it down on his instep. It would have been highly more effective with shoes, but the man still cursed, his hold around her loosening.
Celeste grasped at the opening, slamming her arms up to widen his arms. She grabbed the man’s wrist and wrenched his elbow back. He stumbled a step, giving her much needed space.
He glared at her, his eyes turning a deep, bloody crimson. He grinned. “You will make a fine prize.”
The wolves growled, darting forward. The man shouted a command in a strange language, and they whimpered, backing up once more.
Hercules dashed over, yowling and hissing loud enough to wake the dead. He swiped a claw-tipped paw at the man. The giant swung his hand at the kitten. Hercules dashed out of the way, racing under the bed.
Celeste kicked at the man’s thigh, but the damn man disappeared once more. Spinning, she looked for him. The shadows in the room undulated, wavering around her as if alive.
“Master, he’ssss here,” the hooded creature said.
“Damn it.” Then the man’s voice echoed through the room, once more in that strange language. This time he spoke so fast the strange words became a blur. Dizziness swept over Celeste. She tried to raise a hand to her temple, but couldn’t move.
A bellowing cry of rage broke through the fogginess. Celeste blinked, and Brandon was in front of her.
His gaze swept over her, then he turned, facing the bed. “Where are they?” he asked.
“I...” She tried to swallow through her dry throat. “I don’t know. They were just here.”
As the dizziness slowly faded, Celeste glanced around the room. The creatures and the man were gone.
So was Shana.
Chapter fourteen
Celeste raced to the window, but the street was empty. “They have her,” she shouted.
Brandon grabbed her in his arms, picking her up and heading for the hall. “We’ll find her, I promise. But you can’t be an idiot about it.”
She struggled against his hold, needing to go after her sister.
“Woman!” His eyes glowed with the same red as the other man’s had. “Do you not even realize ho
w hurt you are?”
He stomped into the bathroom and set her on the closed toilet seat, then lifted one of her feet in his hands.
Celeste stared at the cuts, the shards of glass from the broken window embedded in her skin. Blood oozed from multiple wounds she hadn’t even felt.
Brandon grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I swear to you we will find your sister. But you won’t be able to fight in this condition.”
His words slowly penetrated her panic, as did the pain now sweeping through her.
Brandon plucked the glass shards from both her feet and bandaged the worst of the wounds. Once done, he carried her through the debris littered hallway to her bedroom.
Inside, Hercules dashed out from under the bed, meowing up at her pitifully. His little body trembled.
Celeste patted him on the head. “He warned me something wasn’t right. Even tried to protect me.”
Her throat heated from the burning in her chest at the thought of her own failure. She’d been useless against the man and his creatures.
Jerking on her boots, she laced them, then stood. Ignoring the pain, she stared at Brandon. “How do we find her?”
His eyes still glowed as he watched her. “Magic.” He grabbed a bag, and began throwing some of her clothes in it.
“What are you doing? We need to go find Shana.”
“We will, but this place isn’t safe for you.”
A knock came from the broken front door, then footsteps headed down the hall. Celeste held herself ready for this new threat.
The man who stepped into her room wasn’t what she was expecting. In jeans and a sheriff’s khaki shirt, long dark hair flowing down his back, and with his Native American features, he looked like a normal human.
“Shane,” Brandon said, stepping forward and holding his hand out.