by Kiersten Fay
Bray cursed. Can’t be compelled?
Her body resumed its sensual dance against his crotch, her expression pained. “Please.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “We cannot. I’ve kept my sanity thus far. I will not be turned into a monster at the end.”
Tears broke through the barricade of her eyelids, making him feel like a shit for trying to preserver her honor.
He lowered her to the floor and attempted to put distance between them.
She wasn’t having it. She fused herself to his front and planting hot kisses to his chest, constructing a trail of temptation he so wanted to let her complete.
He pried her off him, snatched up the dead-man’s gun, and then, as gently as he could so as not to damage her too badly, he thwacked the butt against her skull. He caught her as she went limp and lifted her to the gurney.
“I will return for you,” he promised. His eyes stole glimpses of her body, and his lungs pushed out an appreciative breath. “When I think back on this, I’ll imagine events went differently.”
With that, he ducked into the hall, making sure there weren’t any other guards around—if there had been, the commotion should have drawn them out.
The other captured vampires were hollering unusually loud, sounding ravenous. It’s possible they deduced what was happening. Or they scented the freakishly aroused female. Moreover, the blood flowing from that first guard’s head wound saturated the air. All of that alone would make the other vampires crazed. Jointly it made them savage.
Which made them a threat.
If he freed them now, they would tear through him to get to Cora, and to the dead guards whose blood still ran warm.
His first priority? Find the doctor. Have him reverse whatever he’d done to Cora. Then get her the fuck out of this hellhole.
They were bonded now. He needed her blood to regain and keep his strength. But he’d be lying if he said that was the only reason he wanted her with him. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in ages, and not only because he’d been locked up and isolated for half a decade.
Over his five hundred years on earth, there was only one other he’d encountered who matched her in beauty: a woman who’d had no interest in him. He’d been green then, with the wildness that came with youth.
He made his feet light but swift as he stalked down the hall. He’d been wrong in his assumption. It wasn’t an L shaped corridor. It was a T. He turned right, following a trail of wires along the cavern’s apex.
He wasn’t really expecting to encounter more guards, though he didn’t discount the possibility. He couldn’t be sure, but it only ever seemed as though they kept two on duty at a time. However, he’d only come to that conclusion based on what he heard and smelled from within his cell. Who knew how large this place was.
At the end of the path, he found a set of double doors. A button to the right suggested it was an elevator. Assuming they were in fact underground, perhaps this was his way out. He wouldn’t dare check it out, not without Cora. The chance of getting locked in was too great.
He turned around and headed in the opposite direction. The second hall was more brightly lit and just as deserted as the first, however, the scent of blood was overwhelming.
A tiny, wet drop thwacked him on the top of his head and then dispersed over his scalp. Condensation? He reached up to touch the liquid and then pulled his hand away. The tip of his finger was splotched with red. A whiff told him it was…
“Blood?”
The metallic tang was undeniable. He glanced up. The slick substance glistened over the ceiling and dripped down the walls.
What. The. Fuck.
What were these assholes doing down here?
In a few hundred feet, the scent faded to a sterile fragrance. The path curved to the left and then back around. The stench was growing more pronounced.
Several yards ahead, light cut a thin shard across his path. A door was cracked open. The cloying stench of antiseptic wreaked havoc on his nostrils.
A shadow moved, momentarily clipping the shard of light.
His VEA training kicked in.
It felt good. Invigorating.
In part, that could be from Cora’s blood coursing through him. It was unusually potent. Like high octane fuel. A part of him suspected that was why he’d been able to shrug off the drugs more quickly as of late.
He crept along, sticking tight to the right side of the tunnel, the weight of the gun familiar in his grip.
He had seen a lot of harrowing scenes during his time with the VEA, and even before that, when vampires were still hidden from public scrutiny and often ran wild. The overabundance of immoral behavior gave rise to what was now the largest and most successful vampire run law enforcement agency, and made the revelation of their species necessary. Before that, the humans had been little better than lambs, easily corralled, easily slaughtered, with the worst of his kind helming the cleavers. He’d been opposed to the Revelation at first, until he’d joined the VEA and discovered what some of his more depraved brethren were up to. Blood orgies. Slave syndicates. Hidden chambers dedicated to unscrupulous activities, much like this one.
His memory called forth so many nightmarish displays. And he imagined what he was about the find in that brightly lit room would trump them all. Would there be dissected vampires? Severed body parts strewn around for examination? Humans gorging on vampire blood, bathing in it? And wouldn’t that be ironic?
He leaned in to peek through the crack.
Instead of the torturous scene he’d been expecting, he found the doctor hunched over a desk scrawling on a piece of yellow parchment. With the pen in his hand working at a maddening pace, he never saw Bray coming.
Chapter 23
Sara was reaching into the cooler for two fresh bags of blood when the front bell jingled.
From the back room, she peeked around the door frame and spied her ever impressive coven leader, as always, dressed for intimidation and grandeur. Moyra’s sleek blond hair fell in stiff spikes down her shoulders and back. The corset she wore honed a new sense of the word black and was tighter than could conceivably be comfortable, flaunting her slim waist. The long midnight-green skirt was flourished by waves of sheer fabric, tapered so that her legs were revealed in the front and allowing for a small train in the back. Her accessories added a caliber of dangerous sensuality: a black leather cuff around her right wrist decorated by a silver chain that dipped over her knuckles, and a dagger pendant that hung from a delicate chain around her neck.
A formidable visage.
Sharp green eyes singed by a halo of black caught Sara’s gaze. “Sara, dear.”
“Moyra.” Sara inclined her head in a respectful greeting.
Moyra arbitrarily glanced around the shop. “Quaint as ever.”
“Thank you,” Sara replied, unsure if she’d meant that as a compliment. “I wasn’t expecting you for another couple of weeks.”
“Shall I come back another time?” Moyra offered an am-I-putting-you-out expression, but it read as a façade.
“No! I’m glad you’ve come,” she rushed out. “Really.”
Moyra glanced down at the blood bags Sara clutched. “Yes, I can imagine you’d want the matter at hand finalized quickly.”
Suddenly self-conscious about her effects, Sara set the bags aside and brushed her hands off. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“I won’t be staying long. Just came to get a gander at your quarry.”
“Oh, is it just you?” Sara glanced toward the door with undisguised hope, as though other members of the coven might appear any second. Surely others would have made the trip.
Moyra cocked her head? “You sound disappointed. Did you expect the entire coven to drop everything for your summons?”
“No, I just—”
“Are you insinuating my visit is inadequate?” Slitting eyes followed the statement. “Do I need to remind you that I am the head of the coven?”
Moyra was always
easily offended, or so she acted. It was one of the reasons Gran had disliked her as a leader. Governing through intimidation breeds discord, she’d often say.
But it helps to get things done your way, Sara would counter, just to be contrary.
However, Gran was right. No one ever wanted to convey their discontent to Moyra. Most went to Audrey first, or if she wasn’t available, Drisandra.
“You misunderstand. I just assumed all the leaders would want to see Gran’s killer and get on with judgment.”
“Drisandra wanted to come, but someone had to stay behind, you know, where the entirety of our coven resides.”
That felt surprisingly like a dig at Gran for choosing to live so far away from the rest.
Sara just stifled a sneer. She was the head of her house now. The only member left. And she needed to familiarize herself with diplomacy if she wanted to keep her place in the coven. Single run houses were left vulnerable and in danger of being seized by stronger houses within the coven, assimilated, and forced to take a lower rank. Alone as she was, she could very well be seen as an acquisition by ambitious members of the coven.
And Moyra was still subtly inventorying her shop. “Audrey, I’m afraid, felt her time was better spent elsewhere. Pity. I know how well you two used to get on.”
Used to? A pang thwacked Sara in her chest. Audrey wasn’t usually so callous. Now that Gran was gone, was she so insignificant?
“Besides, this visit is just preliminary. I’ll return to the others with my recommendation after I speak with the accused. If you’ll lead the way, we can get started.”
Sara nodded.
Downstairs, Mace caught sight of Sara and pulled himself off the ground, approaching the bars.
Knox just glared and remained seated against the wall.
Sara smirked at him, taking what little satisfaction she could from her impending justice, even if this was just preliminary.
“Saraphine, please,” Mace begged. “You must let me out. I need to find Cora. Keep Knox if you must, but let me go.”
It should have been empowering to see such a usually powerful and intimidating man appear so small and desperate, but to Sara, it was weird.
“Way to hold a united front,” Knox grumbled at him.
“Is this the one?” Moyra splayed her hand in Knox’s general direction.
“That’s him,” Sara confirmed.
Knox glowered at Moyra. “Who are you? The executioner?” He ran his gaze over Moyra as if he had the power of x-ray vision. “At least I get to go out staring at a nice rack.”
What an ass, Sara thought.
Moyra fastened her hands on her hips, but seemed to delight in the appraisal. “Cocky, isn’t he,” she said to Sara.
Knox answered. “Cocky, ballsy, and hungry. And you’re looking like a fine dish, love.”
Mace scowled at him. “Knox, for once in your life, would you shut the fuck up!”
Moyra betrayed a minuscule smile. Flattery was one of her weaknesses.
Sara mentally gagged. “He’s just messing with you, Moyra. He does that.”
“He’s only speaking the truth, dear. Let us see if that continues. Did you kill Edeena, vampire?”
“No. Did you?”
Moyra’s head jerked back. “How dare you. Edeena was one of my dearest friends.”
Sara gawked at her. She knew they were cordial, but dearest friend? That was a stretch. Although, they had known each other for ages. And there were those few times that Gran spoke fondly of Moyra. Sara would say they were more like frenemies.
“Thought I should ask,” Knox continued, “you know, since we’re throwing around accusations.”
Sara spoke up. “Ours has merit. You’ve threatened her many times. Threatened me as well.” She turned to Moyra. “Knox is a blight on this town. Since he arrived, he’s treated everyone here as his personal snack pack.”
Moyra hadn’t taken her eyes from Knox. “Is this true, vampire?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I enjoyed myself here. Lots of blood types and willing women. But that all ended when Cora bonded me.”
At the last, Moyra’s shoulders hiked ever so slightly. She gave Sara her profile. “Who is Cora?”
“She’s an unattached witch who recently came to town. She’s bonded to Mace as well.”
Moyra turned on her fully. “These vampires are claimed?”
Sara shrank back at the sudden venom. “What?”
“They belong to a witch not of our clan?”
“I-Yes, I guess so.”
“Has this Cora approved your restraining them?”
“What does that matter if I’ve caught the killer?”
Moyra started to pace. “Do you not know how these matters work? If an attached vampire commits a crime against a rival coven, it is the witch who answers for it.”
Knox looked stunned at first, then gave a hearty laugh, nearly doubling over. It annoyed the shit out of Sara.
Moyra ignored him. “I must speak with this Cora. Where can I find her?”
“Um...” Sara’s eyes darted, avoiding Moyra.
“That’s the thing,” Mace jumped in. “She’s been abducted. I must be released so that I can find her.”
“No!” Sara objected, fearing that once Mace was free, he’d come back for Knox. “I’ll find Cora. I’ll set up a meeting. You cannot allow them to run free. They’ll kill me,” she added for good measure.
“Darling.” Moyra ran the backs of her fingers over Sara’s cheek. “I wish you had waited for me to come before performing these drastic acts. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure we can prosecute to your satisfaction.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Moyra sent her a warning look—whether for her outburst in its entirety or just her language, Sara wasn’t sure.
She turned contrite. “Please. Please don’t make me let Gran’s killer go free.”
Moyra’s censure turned to pity. “I must think on it.” She started for the stairs. “I will return to the coven now. You may continue to hold them until you contact their matriarch and negotiate a meeting.” She paused, thoughtful. “You say she is not attached to a coven? Is she powerful?”
Sara knew that look. Moyra had acquisition on her mind. “She knows practically nothing about magic.”
“Saraphine,” Mace’s voice shot from behind. “I beg you—”
Moyra spoke over him. “Do you truly believe that, dear? When she has bonded two vampires? She must know something.”
It was true that bonding with vampires added to one’s power, but they were also liabilities. And besides…
“I don’t think she bonded them on purpose.”
“I disagree,” Knox grumbled under his breath.
Mace shot him a hateful glare.
“You see.” Moyra flung her hand toward Knox. “We must assume she is accumulating power…” She trailed off at the sight of Mace’s glyphs, flashing around his neck. “What is that?”
For the first time, Sara noticed Mace’s expression was twisted as if he were battling pain.
“He’s been cursed or something,” Sara supplied.
Moyra studied him closer. “Is that why you’ve placed that defensive spell on him?”
“What defensive spell?”
Moyra pointed to the glyphs on his neck. “This bears a resemblance to Edeena’s handiwork. Did she teach this to you?”
Sara studied the markings for a moment. Mace remained still, clearly expecting to acquire some information about the markings. Even Knox glanced over with interest.
“It wasn’t me. Gran placed the spell on him a while ago. She never told me what it was for.”
“Mmm.” Moyra tapped her pointer finger on the edge of her jaw. “She wanted to protect this one from something. Interesting.”
As if he couldn’t hold out any longer, Mace doubled over. His hand dug into his chest while ragged breaths wheezed out of him. “I don’t think it’s working,” he managed.
“O
n the contrary,” Moyra said. “It’s working perfectly. But it’s not a spell meant for the long term. I sense a powerful curse eating its way past Edeena’s barrier. I haven’t felt the likes of it in decades.”
Mace went down to one knee and looked as if he were struggling to remain conscious. “So then do something.”
Moyra rose to her full height, her expression hardening. Angry power pushed outward like a physical force. It charged the air, making it crackle around her.
All of them tensed.
“You don’t order me, vampire.” Moyra flicked her wrist.
As if she had reached out and backhanded Mace, he was wrenched backwards, landing face up on the cement floor.
He lifted his head with a final, baffled look before passing out.
Knox gave a low, throaty laugh that, in an odd way, almost sounded threatening. “I bet you’d be wicked in the sack.”
Sara studied him, aghast at his undiluted heartlessness, but as she did so, something in his brow and the ever-so-slight pinch in his lips made her think that maybe Moyra’s action hadn’t been so easily laughed off.
Moyra headed up the stairs as if she hadn’t heard Knox, but in the last instant, called back, “I would indeed.”
Knox’s smile widened, revealing his sharp fangs and making him look menacing.
Sara glared at him, then followed Moyra back to the brightly lit storefront. “Should I try to break the curse on Mace?”
Moyra halted at the exit. “It’s none of our business who cursed him or why. Edeena shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place.”
“But if Gran thought it was important enough to…”
“Keep your nose out of it,” Moyra replied curtly. “It’s for his mistress to deal with. Not us. Now, if she decides to throw her lot in with our coven, pledge herself to us, then we can talk.”
“But…he…I can’t just…”
Moyra retrieved a compact mirror from her pocket and handed it to Sara. “Use this to contact me when this Cora comes for her men.”
Chapter 24
“Where is it?” the harsh voice boomed in Cora’s ear.