by Ann Gimpel
“By killing them,” Chloe said. “Jer and I argued about it earlier, but we can’t take a chance on leaving any of them alive.”
“Normally, I wouldn’t agree.” Raul, their healer, stepped forward. “But in this case, I do.” Tawny hair shot with gray fell to his shoulders, and his hazel eyes glittered with keen intelligence and determination.
Niall offered a grin that was all teeth and zero warmth. “Good use for us dark-siders. Keeps the blood off your hands.”
“We’re going to free them only to kill them?” Johnny spoke up.
“Aye, why bother to free them at all?” Mariel’s words were tough, but her brown eyes pinched with worry at their corners.
“If we leave them where they are, the vampires will be able to turn them,” Sarai replied.
“Not if they’re dead,” Mariel protested.
“Vampires are dead,” Raul reminded her. “If they find the mages soon enough after death, they can drain and resurrect them.”
“’Tis a sure bet they’d locate them in time,” Niall put in. “They’ll notice right away that the spigot they’ve been leeching magic from was shut off.”
“Do we know how many mages?” Chloe asked.
“Not exactly,” Jeremiah replied. “We number fourteen. It would be ideal if we could team up, two to a captive mage, but—”
“Nay,” Niall spoke over him. “You need us to do the killing, so once we locate the blackguards, we’ll cast a group transport spell.”
“And move them where?” Jeremiah asked.
“Good question,” Stephan muttered. “How about Golddust?”
Johnny narrowed his dark eyes in thought. “Must be that ghost town you used as a base to launch the last vampire attack.”
“That’s exactly what it is.” Chloe nodded. “It’s where we gathered before Jer went vampire hunting.”
“As good a choice as any.” Jeremiah added his two cents’ worth. “It’s deserted and off the beaten path. Once we’re done, we can burn the bodies, purify them of their misdeeds.”
“Or leave them for the crows.” Chloe sent a sharp look his way.
“Not our way,” he informed her. “If they can find the peace in death that eluded them in life, we have no right to rob them of it.”
“Eh. They had no right to choose the undead as playmates,” another mage called from near the front door. I’m with Chloe. Leave the fuckers to rot.”
“Once they’re beyond where vampires can resurrect them,” Raul added, an uncharacteristic edge to his tone.
“Where do you think the mages are?” Niall asked pointblank.
Jeremiah had been able to avoid answering him at Stephan’s, but every set of eyes in the room was trained on him. He inhaled briskly. “I’m fairly certain it’s Mitch and his brothers and cousins. My best guess is they’re somewhere near that isolated patch of real estate where they’ve lived for the last hundred years.”
“Do you mean that canyon they teleport into and out of?” Chloe asked.
He nodded and said, “The same,” while wondering how she knew about it.
“Where exactly is it?” Niall asked with a slight separation between each word.
“Northern Idaho. Sawtooth Range,” Jeremiah answered. “I’m not sure how they found the place, but it’s a series of connected caves warmed by geothermal energy. Warm pools. Warm water. Pretty much everything you’d need to be comfortable. The land is rugged, so there aren’t any roads. It’s the type of place that would appeal to vampires too. Out of the way. Rather like a lair where they could store any number of bodies, feeding from them at their leisure.”
“And no one near enough to hear them scream,” Johnny added sourly.
“Are we in agreement?” Jeremiah scanned the room. “Worst case scenario, I’m wrong and we’ll have to dig deeper to find them.”
“Aye, let’s get moving.” Niall gestured with both hands. “Send me an image of where we’re headed.”
“What? You don’t trust me?” Jeremiah quirked a brow.
“My turn to control the transport spell.” Niall’s words were mild, without inflection, but Jeremiah understood him well enough. He’d tricked half a dozen shifters into following him to a vampire stronghold, and Niall hadn’t forgotten.
“Too many for a single transport spell,” Stephan said. “We’ll do best in groups of four to six if we want to maintain stealth when we arrive at the other end.”
“Speaking of numbers,” Chloe spoke up, “I’m having a hard time remembering just how many family members Mitch had.”
“Anywhere from six to ten assorted uncles, brothers, and cousins,” Jeremiah answered her. “Depends how many of them voted to become lackeys for vampire central.”
“Are all of them men?” Renee asked.
She’d been so quiet, Jeremiah had done a fair job blocking out her presence. It was hard being in the same room with someone who hated him as much as she clearly did. Doubly hard since he was so attracted to her, but he couldn’t force her to view him as anything other than a blackguard mage turned shifter by a fortuitous twist of fate.
“Yup, all men,” Mariel answered.
Renee turned to face her. “Why? Are they gay?”
Mariel shook her head. “Not a sexual thing. At least I don’t believe it was. Mitch didn’t care for women.”
“Sure, but that’s him. How’d he convince a bunch of others to sign on to the same program?” Renee pressed.
“It’s not important. His family were always on the odd side. Kept to themselves. We only saw them when they wanted something—even in the Old Country.” Jeremiah forced himself to hold eye contact with her. It was hard. She was so goddamned lovely, and she looked so depleted he wanted to gather her close, protect her, keep harm from crossing her threshold ever again.
But she didn’t want him. Worse than that, she held him in the same regard she might have for a cockroach.
Renee glanced away. “Yeah. You’re right, of course. I’m tired, and it’s hard to focus on much of anything.”
Surprise rocked him. He hadn’t expected her to agree with anything that came out of his mouth. To cover his relief, he blurted, “Form two groups of five and one of four. Niall and Sarai will be in one of the larger groups. Stephan and Renee will pick separate groups. That way, we’ll spread the shifters evenly.”
Renee scraped her gaze off the floor and stared right at him. He didn’t need mindreading to interpret her expression. It fairly screamed he was a shifter just like her, and he was a right bloody coward not to admit it to his mage kin.
He stared back defiantly while the lion paced, restless within him. At least it hadn’t outed him, which probably meant it agreed with his assessment that disclosing his status would only get in the way.
“We’ll have to move fast when we get there,” Stephan was saying. Jeremiah had missed the first part.
“Yeah,” Niall agreed. “Once we see how many mages are there, we’ll divvy them up, free them, and drag them to Golddust.”
“Don’t wait on the rest of us once you arrive,” Jeremiah cautioned. “Several small transport spells will draw less attention than one huge one.”
“No worries on that front.” Renee spat the words. “A clean death is too good for them, but it’s what they’ll get.”
The room broke into three groups. Power boiled, hot and viscous, as everyone added their magic to group travel spells.
“Ready.” Renee stalked to the far side of Jeremiah’s group, taking a place next to Chloe.
His heart beat faster. She’d be with him. How had that happened? Before he could sort it out, the other two groups vanished. He laid everything but the task facing them aside.
“I’ve got this,” he said. “Open your power to me, and we’ll be gone in a trice.”
Chapter 8
Niall and Sarai staked out a spot in one of the larger groups. By the time Renee got to the other group with five—the one without Jeremiah—Stephan was already there. She’d pleade
d without words, but he ignored her.
Robbed of choice—other than remaining in the mages’ house, which was no choice at all since she had a target painted on her back—she slid in next to Chloe and tilted her chin at a defiant angle. She hadn’t wanted to leave Stephan’s, had argued vehemently against following Jeremiah.
She’d been outvoted as they stood at the kitchen counter shoveling food down their throats and arguing. It was tough to discount Niall and Sarai, especially after both presented solid points. Niall was convinced Jeremiah would go after the captive mages, and Sarai was worried about him being alone. Stephan said he’d be with other mages but agreed with Niall about the need to not let the trail grow too cold.
Sarai’s final nail-in-the-coffin reason had been what Renee had gleaned from the lore book: that her energy needed to be close to Jeremiah’s since the combination would protect all of them.
A familiar funny little trill had filled her after she arrived in Jeremiah’s living room. No man had a right to be so gorgeous. So appealing. He practically oozed come-fuck-me vibes without even trying. Her heart beat crazily, and the initial attraction that had snared her the first time she laid eyes on him returned with a vengeance. She covered her interest—interest that had zero future—with a gruff comment to Niall about guessing right.
Maybe she could lose herself in killing the turncoat mages. Nothing like a bloodbath to put a damper on lust. The smell of Jeremiah’s magic wrapped around her as he cast a travel spell, and she forgot all about killing and blood. Rosemary, vanilla, and rain-wet forests mingled into an enticing mélange, and she was grateful she wasn’t near enough to touch him.
She ached to wrap her arms around him, feel the press of his body against hers. Inhaling his scent only intensified her longing. Not breathing wasn’t an option, so she did her damnedest to block him out of her mind as the room shimmered into nothingness, replaced by the blackness of their traveling portal.
What if they came out in the wrong place? She’d always kept the upper hand during transport spells. Allowing someone else to control them went against the grain, but Niall had intimated as much too.
Despite her reservations about Jeremiah, she had faith in Chloe. Even though she’d only just met the woman, something genuine about her inspired trust.
Yeah, and she trusts her twin, but this isn’t an exercise in inductive reasoning.
“Why are you fighting this?” Her bondmate’s question surprised her.
“I’m not. Not exactly. I like being in control. That’s all,” she responded in shielded telepathy, hoping Jeremiah, Chloe, and the other mage with them, a man named Johnny, wouldn’t pick up on her ambivalence.
“Not precisely what I meant. Why do you dislike the idea of him as your mate?”
If the eagle’s first question caught her off guard, this next one was a true shocker. She adopted a different tack. “I thought you were annoyed with the cave lion. Why would you want us to join forces with them?”
The bird cawed before saying, “A temporary spat, to be sure. This isn’t about the lion and me. It’s about you, and you have yet to answer me.”
The air developed the characteristic gray aspect that meant they were closing on their destination. She didn’t have to tell her bondmate they needed to look sharp and focus all their attention on what lay in wait for them. Its question would have to wait. A good thing since she didn’t have an answer.
Not a good one, anyway. She didn’t want to whine about Jeremiah not being interested in her. Nor was she in the mood to look like a pathetic fool by throwing herself at a man who could care less.
The gray surrounding her shaded lighter still. Her muscles tensed, and she peered through the mist, using her psychic view to see better. Ley lines formed, shimmering just as they should. At least the nasty blackened edges hadn’t invaded this portion of wherever they were emerging.
If the mages were here, they weren’t able to cast magic on their own, or they’d have set a protective perimeter, visible in the lines, to warn them of invaders.
“Almost there.” Jeremiah’s voice rang in her mind. “Defensive magic at the ready.”
She almost retorted this was far from her first rodeo, but bit back the comment. He was the closest thing his mage group had to an alpha. The others were probably used to obeying him, and they respected his read on things. She was the outsider.
Not the time to take a stand. Or to earn a reputation as a bitch.
The last strands of mist fell away. They stood in a rugged canyon with walls hundreds of feet tall on both sides. Walls that appeared unscalable without a magical assist. The noise of rushing water filled her ears from a robust river traveling fast only a couple feet away. From the sound of things, a major waterfall wasn’t far downstream.
The scent of Jeremiah’s power thickened as he searched their location, and she breathed it in.
“This way.” He took off at a lope, traversing large, uneven rocks with a fluid grace that earned her respect. Watching his legs pump as they covered distance made her want them wrapped around her.
She tossed cold water on her overheated imagination and picked her way after the others. The terrain was difficult, so she cheated, using magic to ensure she remained on her feet. When she caught up with the others, they stood at the entrance to a large cavern.
“This is the right spot. I remember it,” Chloe said.
Jeremiah cast a pointed look her way. “When were you ever here?”
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” She gestured toward the opening and strode through it.
Renee looked away, pleased Chloe wasn’t a milquetoast who’d roll over when her brother ordered her to. She trotted alongside the group as they entered a generous cave. She was still employing her psychic view, and ley lines glowed softly, illuminating the darkness enough for her to pick her way around boulders and limestone formations. Water dripped down the walls, and the place smelled of sulfur from geothermal activity.
A quick scan told her the other mages were close, perhaps in a neighboring cavern. The stench of vampire indicated they were in the right place, but the vamp scents weren’t fresh.
Even old vampire spoor made her belly clench with fear and hatred.
A long, low whistle followed by, “Damn my eyes,” brought her at a run. She barked her shin in her rush, and pain shot up her leg. The next corner brought her into a cave twice the size of the entry one. Breath caught in her throat, and her heart galloped into triple time.
Mages were laid out in rows, tied down with iron manacles at wrist and ankle. The shackles had been staked into the ground. She blanched at row upon row of trapped mages. There must be fifty of them, some moaning piteously, but most silently following the newly arrived mages and shifters with hooded eyes.
Jeremiah had joined the eleven others who arrived before them. The cave wasn’t cold, but shivers tracked down Renee’s body until she started to shake. Before her teeth began chattering, she got hold of her horror, shoving it aside.
Niall, Sarai, and Stephan ran lightly to her. “Christ and all the damnable saints, but this is horrible,” Niall said. “Worse than my worst-case imaginings.”
“No way will we have enough power to transport them out of here,” Stephan added.
“Not in one trip,” Sarai agreed.
Jeremiah darted close, his face carved in grim lines. “Only one way to handle this.”
Stephan nodded once. “Let’s do it. Then we have to leave fast.”
Renee wasn’t following. “What exactly are we doing?”
“We can’t move them,” Sarai said in a voice quiet as death.
“So we have to summon mage fire and kill them here.” Jeremiah gritted the words out.
Renee felt as if someone had punched her in the guts. “But they’re shackled,” she blurted. “If we burn them, their spirits will remain trapped.” She stuffed a cork in the flow of words. Didn’t add she was a healer, not a murderess. The others might not work at the business of saving
lives, but none of them were in the habit of mowing down helpless victims, either.
Her soul rebelled at the task that lay ahead. Fifty magic wielders were a lot. It would put a huge dent in the mage population. She reminded herself how much she distrusted mages, but the argument didn’t fly. Rather than feeling vindicated, she felt horrified and sick at heart.
“No choice,” Jeremiah said in the same choked tone. “If we loose them, they’ll turn on us. Anger is all that’s left of them, and burning is the only way to free them from vampire control. They haven’t been turned, but vamps have this entire lot in thrall exactly as we suspected.”
“Aye, ’tis what’s keeping them docile. Why they haven’t tried to escape.” Niall’s brogue was as thick as it had been back in the Old Country, displaying his torment at their lack of options.
Renee gazed at Jeremiah. If this was tough for her, it must be killing him, yet he was moving forward. These were his people, never mind he was a shifter now. He was about to annihilate men he knew. Women too, she noted from a quick glance at the rows of bodies.
One caught her gaze. “Please,” a woman with lank blonde hair pleaded. “I’m no harm to anyone. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up trapped. I have children.” Bloodshot blue eyes flooded with tears.
Renee took a step toward her, but Jeremiah closed a hand around her arm, his fingers harsh as a vise. “No.”
The word—and his grip—stopped her in her tracks.
“We rid the world of all of them. Now,” he thundered. “We don’t have the luxury of sorting if any are innocent.”
Magic boiled around him, and the other mages ran to his side. Niall, Sarai, and Stephan wove their magic with his. After a pained pause while she watched the blonde mage weep and struggle against her manacles, Renee pitched her power into the group spell.
Fire rose in a sheet above them. Driven by magic, it raced the length of the cave and blanketed the lines of mages starting with those farthest away. Smoke and flames thickened the air, making breathing difficult. The charred stench of burning flesh twisted her stomach into a knot.