Deathless (The Vein Chronicles Book 2)

by Anne Malcom

  “Isla!” Thorne’s rough voice demanded as arms clutched me to spin me around.

  His eyes, saturated with worry, ran over me. Once, twice, then settled at my eyes. They didn’t hold the relief I thought they would considering he hadn’t encountered any bleeding wounds or limbless stumps.

  All in all, a win.

  “That was much easier than I thought,” I told him, ignoring the sense of foreboding that the fear and concern in his eyes gave me. Plus the fact that he shouldn’t actually be there, since I was aware of how he’d know this location and be able to get there in such a short amount of time “They made it sound so damn hard at the start. Like these were some super big deals, Chuck Norris of the witch world. I’m not going to say I’m disappointed, but I’ll just say it’s anticlimactic,” I told him, watching as Rick, Duncan, Scott, and Sophie came in.

  The gang’s all here, then.

  I made a mental note to ask them how they got there, and how they did it so quickly.

  “There’s fashionably late to the party and then just missing the party,” I informed them. “You guys kind of suck with the riding in to save the day thing, which is fine because I can save myself.”

  I moved my eyes to the human who may or may not have been going into cardiac arrest at the corner of the cave. “Oh, and I can save a human too. But I don’t know, she might already be dead. Whatever.” I shrugged.

  Rick’s eyes fastened on the heap in the corner at the same time Sophie strode over to her, kneeling and muttering some such curse or spell that sent the scent of sweet magic cutting through the dank bitterness of the cave.

  Something moved in his eyes, something that added to the scents in the cave. Something I was more than a little familiar with.

  I gave Thorne a look. “Oooh, looks like your big bro has found a little human to gaze at. Isn’t that sweet? Maybe you can be the best man at his wedding?”

  He didn’t even glance in that direction, his eyes fastened on mine. “Isla,” he demanded urgently.

  “You have this thing of saying my name in that gruff tone like it actually means something more than the title of the most beautiful vampire on the planet. No matter how much you say it, it’s not going to change the fact that this beautiful vampire is pissed the hell off at you and—”

  And then nothing. Because without warning, midsentence, and midrant at Thorne, I was gone.

  Like gone.

  Anticlimactic indeed.

  Chapter 19

  I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my cashmere sweater, leaning back from Thorne’s neck as I did so. I tried to lean out of his embrace entirely, but that didn’t exactly work out.

  I scowled at him and tried to shake off the sheer weight of the emotions that were either his or mine—I couldn’t tell anymore. “I need to stop waking up to my ex-boyfriend’s throat,” I said, looking around the cabin of the small jet, which had been comfortably roomy on the ride over but now, with three vampires—well, two and a half—a witch, a human slayer, a half-dead human from the cave and a fully dead human formerly known as Brent, it was a tight squeeze.

  Thorne’s arms flexed around me as I once again tried to move from them. My body was still disturbingly weak from the little tangle I’d had with Morticia, so it wasn’t in the position to put up much of a fight.

  Which, of course, pissed me right off.

  “Stay still, Isla,” Thorne commanded. “And I’m not your ex anything.”

  “I beg to differ,” I hissed. “And I don’t do well with still. I know some vampires prefer it, but my general disposition, ADHD and the flying monkeys up here”—I tapped my head—“totally make the concept impossible.”

  He didn’t move, but I did manage to take myself from the reclining position on the sofa in the small plane, to sitting upright, tucked into Thorne’s side.

  I hated the warmth of his body and the fact that my chill seemed to fit into the places where he burned just hot enough not to make me melt.

  I hated how it felt like home.

  Because monsters didn’t have homes. Even the darkness was a temporary respite because of that damn sun that kept on rising.

  “How is it that you all rode in here so quickly after I called you? And knew where to go?” I asked, deciding to forgo my struggle until I was strong enough to break some bones again. Thorne’s wrist had healed annoyingly quickly.

  “Quickly?” Duncan answered for me. “Lass, you were AWOL for nigh on three days after Thorne broke Sophie’s phone and half the furniture in her office,” he said, his face blank.

  Sophie’s was not. “I’m still considering a curse for punishment,” she hissed at him.

  “I vote for pig’s tail,” I suggested. “Oooh, or Pinocchio nose, on account of all the lies,” I added.

  Thorne stiffened and his emotions rolled through me, thanks to our strengthened connection.

  I ignored it.

  “And we knew where you were since I know which jet company you use, and then my spell worked at tracking you instead of the witch in question,” Sophie explained. “We knew you were still undead, despite the radio silence, thanks to him.” She nodded to the man holding me.

  I gaped at him. “How did you know?”

  His gaze was level on mine. “’Cause my heart was still beating,” he said simply.

  I frowned. “Don’t give me that lovers bullshit,” I ordered, hating the warmth it had given me. “Truth.”

  He yanked me to him. “That is the truth. Ever since that day where you were dancing with Hades, my heart doesn’t beat for just me. It pumps blood for me and for you. Can’t explain it any better.” His eyes narrowed. “But you can explain how the fuck you keep going missing and turning up almost dead.”

  I scowled at him. “A ‘thank you, Isla, for getting rid of two-thirds of our witch problem’ would suffice,” I snapped.

  I puzzled on the lost days. Time must have moved differently like it had in the dank tomb with the first vampire.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” I said, glaring at Thorne. “I met Ambrogio a few days ago. Swell guy. Talked a little too much for my liking, though. And his security system was seriously lacking. I think he’s batshit crazy, but then that’s why I kind of liked him and didn’t kill him, even though I’m almost certain he’s not on our side in this whole thing. That and he’s the father of our race.” I looked to Thorne. “And yours, if we think about it hard enough, which I did. Then it really began to creep me out, and not in a good way, so I stopped.” I returned my attention to the group. “Anyhoo…. I don’t remember where I was going with this. I guess that’s all you needed to be caught up on. Met the dude, was in some weird kind of stasis situation since I didn’t come up from his tomb for three days, and then jumped on a plane, killed a witch, picked up a stray human and then promptly passed out. But I think I deserved a small catnap considering I feel like I’m the one who’s done all the work lately while you slackers seem to come in at the last minute and try to take credit for all my glory.”

  The silence that had crept into my small pause blanketed the roar of the engine and the heartbeat of the man beside me.

  I wiped my lip. “What? Do I have blood on my face or something?”

  Rick was the first to gain his thoughts. “You met Ambrogio, the one legend says is the first vampire?” he clarified, voice even, the first time he’d spoken since we’d gotten on the plane. Most of his energy was spent on staring at the human.

  I nodded. “The very one.”

  “And he is the one who informed you of the witch’s whereabouts?” he continued.

  Another nod. “Affirmative. Among other things.”

  Thorne, who had been stone beside me, flexed his body so it squeezed my own. “Other things?” he repeated. “What the fuck else kind of other things?”

  I gave him a sideways glance. “Just things,” I hedged, not too keen on giving him, or anyone, the specifics. “The best sangria recipes, why he doesn’t consider himself much of a people or vampire person.
Some anti-aging tips,” I snapped.

  My eyes returned to the group at large.

  “Now that I’ve let you know how I got to where I was going, I think it’s time to swap your own. You didn’t run into Lilith or anything, did you? Because that would be freaky-deaky. Plus, I hear she’s downstairs with the big guy, so I’m guessing no one took a trip to visit Daddy Hades?” I searched the small little group that had unintentionally become my posse.

  The Scottish rogue vampire hitman who was a loose cannon, as loyal as a hitman and a vampire could be; a witch with some serious personality disorders; a half breed, with now only half of his eyesight and a soft heart that somehow hadn’t been hardened by the world; and then the king of all vampires who just happened to be my ex-slayer boyfriend/prophesized mate’s long-lost brother.

  Yeah, not a complicated powder keg ready to blow at any minute or anything.

  Then I focused on the human.

  Someone must have found her some clothes and a hairbrush and bar of soap while I was sleeping because she looked a little less like she’d lived in a cave than she did while she… actually lived in a cave.

  Her inky black hair was tumbling around her face, still slightly damp from the shower she’d obviously had. She used it like a curtain to hide the small and pale features of her face. It was scratched up, and one of her eyes was purplish and swollen, contrasting her almost transparent skin. She was swamped in an oversized tee shirt that she had yanked over her knees and down to her ankles as she sat in the corner, hugged into a ball with her hands around her knees. Her heartbeat was thundering at a thousand beats per second, although I didn’t exactly blame her.

  “And what about that one?” I nodded to the human. “Sophie must have healed the mortal wounds, but she might just give herself a heart attack. What did you guys do?” I glanced to the corpse at the floor. “Apart from murder Brent.” I gave Duncan a pointed look.

  He shrugged. “I was hungry and he was the only one there considering we need one human to fly the plane and the other is off-limits, apparently.” He scowled at Rick.

  The unflappable king stiffened unperceptively, but for him that was a big reaction.

  Interesting.

  “She was a prisoner of our enemy. And a prisoner of our enemy is either an ally or an asset,” Rick clipped, his voice even but his eyes flickering as he fastened on the little rabbit in the corner who didn’t seem to be in the room at all.

  She had that empty look about her that I knew far too well. That soulless look that I had caught a glimpse of inside myself as the witch had weaseled her way into the deepest parts of me.

  I flinched even now at the memory.

  The uber-protective male at my side obviously registered it, as he flexed his arms around me.

  “I’m fine,” I hissed before he could demand a write-up of my blood work or something equally insane.

  He stiffened.

  “So, has anyone tried talking to the little thing?” I asked, going back to ignoring him.

  “Of course we’ve fucking tried that,” Duncan cut in, his voice a boom that made the girl in question jump.

  So she was in the room enough to register the sharp twang of a Scotsman who had likely just drained a human in front of her.

  “Yes, I’m sure you were about as gentle as a giant doing keyhole surgery,” I muttered.

  I glanced to Sophie. “What about you? No wait, actually you’d be about as sensitive as I would be. We need someone with less balls and more vagina—in the figurative sense, of course.” I focused on someone who fit the description a little more.

  Scott didn’t even seem offended; he just looked glad to be there. Which of course he was. I would reason he’d be glad if this plane exploded in a fiery ball of destruction so long as he was invited.

  “She’s not talking to anyone,” Scott said, glancing to the side with a compassion that only those with either soft hearts or soft minds could create.

  I was neither soft of mind nor heart. But the thought did bring something to my attention. “Is she like…?” I twisted my finger around my temple in the universal ‘crazy’ gesture.

  “She’s been through a lot. For a human, anyway. Their minds are so much weaker and smaller, so sometimes they have to shut down instead of deal with the things that attempt to destroy them,” Sophie said softly, her eyes faraway, looking at the girl but seeing something else.

  Or someone else.

  I didn’t have time for that right now.

  “Or she’s batshit,” I corrected. “Luckily I am too. Do you know what the definition of insanity is?” I asked the entire cabin. Only Scott answered because only he would answer a rhetorical question.

  “It’s doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, that’s the description of trying to master winged eyeliner. The definition of insanity is the thought that sanity exists.”

  My focus turned to the human and not Sophie’s grinning face.

  I smiled at her. “You’ve just got to find the crazy in you to match the crazy in them. It’s okay, sweetie. We’re all mad here,” I continued, thinking there could not be a more perfect time to be quoting the Cheshire cat.

  Duncan glared at me. “Speak for yourself. I’m not mad.”

  “Not true,” I protested, giving the human at his feet a pointed glance. “But I was speaking for myselves. All of them. The voices like it when I’m honest.”

  He barked out a grunt that was somewhere between a chuckle and a growl.

  Even Sophie smirked. Scott, because he was soft of heart, and of head, was full-on grinning.

  Three people were not. Rick, not hugely surprising since his default was Vin Diesel. Happy, sad, pissed off, excited—all the very same.

  Thorne, not another huge surprise considering the amount of emotions rolling off him, none of them particularly jolly.

  But neither did the girl. I guessed even my hilarity couldn’t make a little human spill the beans after getting trapped in a cave with a crazy witch for an indeterminate amount of time, most likely being tortured before getting saved by a vampire and her merry band of monsters.

  “Well, that’s a bust. Should we kill her?” I asked.

  Thorne, interestingly, wasn’t the one to be all outraged at the suggestion like he always seemed to be about killing humans for no reason. In fact, he didn’t even move.

  Rick did, abruptly standing and moving in a blur so he was between me and the girl. “You try that and we have problems, Isla,” he said smoothly.

  Now Thorne was getting a reaction at Rick threatening me. Or just because he obviously still wasn’t playing nice with his brother, even though the immortal human slayer vampire thing was out of the bag.

  “Like we don’t already have problems,” I muttered.

  Rick continued to glare.

  “Okay, fine, we won’t kill the human,” I huffed. “No need for the dramatics. It was just a suggestion.”

  “Not one you need to be having. Ever,” he commanded.

  And because I recognized that furious insanity in his eyes, I conceded.

  And then decided that yes, we were all mad here.

  Hopefully insanity would be our saving grace, not our downfall.

  I reasoned it was sixty forty.

  “It’s a bad idea,” Thorne growled at Duncan, his eyes roving over me and flaring at my outfit. The desire in them and the hardening of his jaw as I strutted in added to the immense female sense of satisfaction that came with looking hot and rubbing it in a well-deserving asshole’s face. He swallowed visibly before continuing. “A bad idea. Reckless, borderline suicidal and almost certainly not going to work.”

  It was somewhat of another planning session in my apartment in the days after killing witch number two. And if we felt like counting, I’d killed witch number one as well. I was going for the trifecta; then I could say I single-handedly saved the world. But then again, I didn’t think I wanted to be infamou
s for that.

  Luckily the witches weren’t going to be the be-all and end-all of the war, considering there was the question of their oh-so-fearless leader, the hybrids already created, and their continued attacks on supernaturals throughout the globe.

  I wasn’t overly worried about the rest for now. I was more concerned with getting witch three out of the way, who just so happened to be visiting with my family. Such a visit just so happened to constitute treason; therefore, I’d get to kill them all while we were picking her up.

  Apparently this was the witch queen of them all and likely wouldn’t be easy to kill. Or perhaps we couldn’t kill her at all. Sophie had been away doing research and gaining her eye of newt for a spell to bind her powers. We would take her to go and have a little chat with her before throwing her in some pit and swallowing the key.

  So much to do. So much time. Eternity.

  Though eternity seemed rather a lot shorter after all these brushes with death I seemed to be having.

  I sank down beside Duncan, snatching his whisky. “I’m in,” I said immediately.

  Three sets of male eyes settled on me. Well, two; the third and most electric had already been glued to me.

  Duncan’s flickered with annoyance at my whisky grabbing, but a small grin tickled the corner of his jaw at my words. Rick’s were impassive and blank, which had become their default after everything that had come out in the crown room.

  Well, apart from when he looked at the little sparrow who was staying in the guest bedroom in this very apartment. It seemed she was rather attached to me, since she’d damn near lost her shit when Rick tried to demand she come to the palace with him.

  She’d actually hidden behind me.

  Me.

  Like she thought I’d protect her or something.

  She was definitely crazy.

  But I conceded, mostly because it gave me a good excuse to continue ignoring Thorne, though it was hard since he kept hanging about the place.

  And then Rick too.

  It was like they didn’t have lives as king of the vampire race during a possible uprising in the community and the head of the slayer faction struggling to keep up.