“But on how many continents?” Rau’s body began to sag with exhaustion. “I can’t say for certain how long we flew or to where. We don’t know the locations we need to pool our resources to. The only thing we do know is that Dorian has had centuries to put his plans into motion, and we have little more than a heartbeat to catch up.”
“And whatever he has planned, it will be more wicked than any of us can imagine.” Standing behind his chair with one hip leaned on the table, Vlad was bumped by one of the vampires I saved as he shoved through the room with more force than necessary. “Pardon me, friend, clearly you have more important matters to attend to.”
Unease prickled down my spine.
The vampire’s zombie-like movements. His vacant stare. I dreaded to admit I had come to know that look. I’d worn it myself on more than one occasion. “Vlad?”
Picking up on my warning, the vampire king tensed. Bracing for the unknown, he risked a step toward the wayward vamp. “Ay, you okay?”
The vampire—whose name I regretfully hadn’t learned—stopped in front of the enormous antique mirror hanging on the southside of the room. His head tilted as if listening intently to a beautiful concerto meant for him alone. When he spoke, the words seeped out in a hauntingly sing-song cadence. “Dorian is coming… and you’re all going to burn.”
Slowly, he turned. A ghoulish grin carved across his pale features. One hand raised, the smell of burning flesh permeating the room. Gripped tight in his red and smoldering fist was my grandmother’s silver nail file.
Mouth falling open, I slapped at my hip where I normally kept it. Sure enough, it was gone.
Growls resonated off the walls.
While Carter caught Natalie’s sleeve and dragged her behind him, the other magi moved in like ghostly shadows to contain the troubled vamp.
“No one needs to get hurt here.” With a silky tone, Vlad attempted to soothe the fiery situation.
Still, the man simply smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong. There will be hurt. And pain. More than you can possibly imagine. Dorian is pulling the strings now. He’ll make you dance and writhe. Then, when he’s done with you…”
Leaving the threat floating in the air, he stabbed my nail file into his neck and sliced a crimson ribbon across his throat. A geyser of black gore gushed from the wound a beat before he exploded in a spray of blood and ash.
Some screamed.
Others shielded their eyes.
The majority could only stare in shocked horror.
My legs moved before I knew my own intention, marching me straight to the mirror now splattered with gruesome remains. “Dorian’s been watching us through the mirrors.”
“Perhaps there’s another explanation. I never witnessed him doing such a thing.” Rau shook his head in utter bewilderment. “I’ve witnessed chemical control, but nothing which defies the laws of science.”
“I have,” Vlad and I answered in unison, exchanging matching looks of painful solidarity.
“It’s been so long, I almost forgot he can travel through them.” A dark and unspeakable memory rippled across Vlad’s features.
“He can hypnotize people with them, too.” I gazed to Carter whose life I took during a situation strikingly similar to this. “If I had to guess, I would say that is exactly what he did here.”
Returning my attention to the mirror, I raised my voice to a booming command. “Go through the entire estate. Blanket every mirror. If you can’t, shatter it. From this moment on, if Dorian wants to get to us, he’ll have to show his cowardly face.”
I spun around, driving my elbow into the face of the mirror hard and fast. Shards of glass rained down in a million tiny doors our enemy could use to access our inner rankings.
“Clean that up.” Vlad nodded to Thomas and Elodie. “Dump all the broken glass far from this property. We want to take away any foothold he has here.”
Turning on my heel, I strode to the stairs under the guise of seeing to the remaining mirrors with the others. As I passed Natalie, she turned the live feed on her phone to face her. “What you have just witnessed is live footage taken from inside of Lockwood Manor, which is acting as the home base for the Draculesti family while they are in the United States. A male vampire, allegedly working for Dorian Gray, has just killed himself as part of a message of warning sent to all vampires. One that speaks of more terrorist threats to come. This was no camera trick. Nor was it a staged stunt. What is to come, I can’t say, viewers. But one thing is clear, DG Enterprises has launched an attack on the Nosferatu community. Coming to you live, this is Natalie Mathers reporting.”
Darting through the foyer, I took the stairs two at a time. I stormed through my bedroom, rounded the corner into the bathroom, and planted myself in front of the mirror hung over the vanity. “I know you can hear me. And I’m sure you’re enjoying every minute of this. You want my attention? You’ve got it. You and I both know that the Dragon lives in me now. I’m the one you want. Tomorrow, just before twilight, meet me at the house I lived in with my parents. We end this… just you and me.”
My bubbling rage formed a crimson veil that clouded my vision. The Dragon channeled his strength through me, sending a blaze of fury shooting from my eyes. I didn’t question it, or cower away from it, but used the fiery rays to blacken every inch of the mirror’s face. I would burn down everything Dorian touched if that’s what it took to stop him.
Even with my growing strength, I was oblivious to Carter listening just outside of the door. I wasn’t the only one making plans. The vampire who swore his loyalty to me was hatching a plot of his own. And by the time I figured that out, it would already be too late.
Chapter Nine
Carter
Handkerchief wrapped around my hand, I thumped on the door with my knuckles. “Vinx?”
By the time she answered, she had shaken off the effects of whatever had come over her earlier. I’m sure she thought no one saw that for a moment flames shot from her eye sockets. If that was an illusion she wanted to stick with, she should probably start double checking doors were actually latched shut behind her.
Pulling the door open the remainder of the way, she forced a tight smile. A slick of sweat covered her grayish complexion. “Hey, Carter. I got the mirror in here already.”
“I figured. But I have something for you.” In my bandaged hand I held her grandmother’s silver nail file.
She started to reach for it when her nose twitched, smelling the air. “You’re hurt.”
With a sheepish smirk, I shrugged. “I was helping clean up the glass and found the file the hard way.”
Plucking the file from my hand, she flipped it over in her fingers and slid it into the waistline of her pants. “Let me see.”
Sucking air through my teeth, I unwrapped the makeshift bandage. The gash in my palm was charred around the edges from the silver, and angry looking. “It’ll be okay soon. Guess I’m just not used to avoiding silver quite yet.”
“We don’t have time to wait for it to heal, come in here.” She stepped back, jerking her head in gesture for me to enter.
“Really, it’s fine. It’s just a cut. I’ll live.”
“Shut the hell up and get in here.” Hooking one finger in the collar of my black T-shirt, she yanked me inside.
Stumbling inside, I kicked the door closed behind me.
The second it clicked shut, Vinx spun on me. “I need you at your best. Let me heal you.”
I pulled up short, pumping the brakes on the conversation with my palms raised. “I appreciate your concern. I really do. But it’s not necessary. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll be good as new.”
My hand closed around the doorknob, but I only opened it an inch before Vinx clapped it shut again. “I don’t know when the next attack is coming, but it’s only a matter of time. Whenever it is, I need to know my entire team i
s strong and ready. Maybe it’s just a cut to you. To me it’s a weakness in one of my strongest soldiers. I can’t do what I need to do if I’m worried about any of you. Please, let me do this.”
Relenting, I allowed her to lead me to the bed and took a seat on the edge of the mattress beside her. Annoyed by our disruption to his nap time, Batdog got up and stalked to the other side of the bed where he glared at us as he settled back in to prime snoozing position.
“Thank you for not fighting me on this.” A sad smile softened Vincenza’s features. With a roll of her fingers, glossy black talons stretched from her fingertips. Closing the distance between us, she tilted her head and nicked her neck. A small ruby gash bloomed from her porcelain skin right beneath the scar Finn gifted her with. “Drink, quick. Before it closes.”
She settled onto the bed beside me and offered me her throat.
My fangs lengthening, a primal need burned through my veins. Unsure of what to do with my hands, I gripped the comforter in white-knuckled fists. I drank from her once before, not that I could remember a moment of it. I was kicking rocks at Death’s door at the time. This… this I would intimately recall every moment of. The citrusy smell of her shampoo. The petal soft feel of her skin. And her taste.
Melted chocolate with a slight red pepper kick.
The first beam of sunshine after a rain.
Welcoming warmth after the harsh bite of bitter cold.
Drinking deep, I fought the impulse to close my eyes and lose myself in her. This wasn’t a resurgence of the addiction I suffered before. This was life. Power. Impossible strength in a mundane world. And I wanted more.
Which was exactly why I forced myself to pull away with an audible gasp. Pushing off the bed, I inserted some much-needed distance between us and wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my wrist. Hand by my mouth, I noticed my wound had completely healed.
“Job well done, boss.” Struggling to find a tone that passed as normal, I showed her my palm.
She peered up at me, blinking back blood-tinged tears. “I need you to make me a promise. Whatever comes next, give me your word that you’ll do whatever it takes to keep our people safe. Now more than ever, they need a champion.”
“From where I’m standing, they already have one.”
My attempt at flattery was met with stone-cold conviction. “Promise me. Please.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes for the Nosferatu… and for you.”
“Thank you, Carter.”
“My pleasure, my Queen.” I bowed my head in a show of respect and backed out into the hall. Easing the door shut behind me, I shook out my bloody handkerchief and tucked it into my back pocket. The same handkerchief I held the silver nail file in when I purposely sliced my own hand.
Chapter Ten
Vinx
Taking advantage of the silence of the sleeping manor, I dressed in one of the many lycra jumpsuits that Micah commissioned for me during my training and covered it with a long, white trench coat belted at the waist. Slicked back hair tucked behind my ears, I shoved my hands in the pockets of my coat and jogged down the grand staircase and straight out the door into the late afternoon sun. Which is exactly how I knew no vamps would follow me, the sunshine wouldn’t allow it. Not cursed with that affliction, I kept the Nosferatu schedule out of convenience, not necessity.
Borrowing a car from Rau’s collection, I slid behind the wheel of a red Corvette Z06 and sped toward my destination with nothing in my head but the desire to end this feud once and for all. Dorian wanted the Dragon. Vlad reiterated that point time and again. I was prepared to let him have it. Sluggish and erratic as it was, my heart still beat. Which meant I could be killed. For my people, I was willing to die and let him take what he wanted… if it meant keeping them safe.
I turned onto my street with no other thought on my mind, yet the pain of the past sliced its way into the here and now with a dull blade the second my tires crunched over the gravel into the driveway. Sure, after it had been completely renovated, I lived here with Micah as I trained. But the story and a half craftsman-style abode would always be home. I could still see my mother standing on the front porch, gnawing on her lower lip as I backed out of the driveway for a driving lesson with Dad. At any moment I expected Jeremy to come gliding out of the garage on his skateboard, with that horrible sk8ter boy haircut that made him look like a sun-bleached turnip. As much as I hated it, that was another life ago. Now, my entire family was gone, and yellow caution tape roped off the front door.
Without a doubt the police had combed every inch of the place for clues about my whereabouts—before that information went public. I really hoped they found my boxed set of Dawson’s Creek and my surplus of scrunchies. Both would add a perplexing human spin to the monstrous tale they were weaving about me.
Ducking out of the sports car, I nodded to Mrs. Harrington across the street. Instead of returning the salutation, she finished dragging her garbage bin up by the house and darted inside. Even at that distance, I heard the lock of her door click.
“It seems your reputation precedes you.” Dorian rounded the corner of the house from God knows where. With a smug smile curling the corners of his lips, he looped his thumbs in his violet suit coat. If it wasn’t for the whole evil immortal thing, he would have been a painfully attractive man. Olive complexion. Thick waves of mahogany hair. The kind of smile that would make better judgment sail right out of a good girl’s head. But I was far from a good girl, and I knew exactly what he was capable of.
Planting myself in a wide-legged stance, I rolled my shoulders into an easy posture and met his leering gaze head-on. “Unlike you, I never made any attempt to hide what I am. Life and hard lessons have made me a ruthless bitch. I don’t try to hide that behind expensive suits and a corporate board of trustees.”
Sucking air through his teeth, Dorian moseyed across the lawn. Two of his fingers pinched the police tape, dragging along its length. “What life made you? That would imply you were sired. We both know that’s not the case. You’re a glorified science experiment. Albeit a successful one.”
Biting my lower lip, I savored the words before I even uttered them. “And yet, the Dragon still chose me—a vampiric test-tube baby—over you. All pretenses aside, that’s got to sting.”
Instead of taking the bait, Dorian’s smile widened. “There may have been a time that the rejection of that would have cut me to my core. Now, however, I prefer it this way.”
When he didn’t react as I suspected, the first chill of unease tiptoed up my spine. Still, I battled to keep my expression at an impassive neutral. “Oh? And why is that? After all these years have you developed more voyeuristic tendencies than the actual desire for participation?”
“I suppose in some ways, I have.” Circling me like a Great White, he peered off at the Connecticut skyline. “Engaging is a temporary thrill, not unlike a one-night stand with a beautiful partner. But to sit back and orchestrate the entire scene that plays out… that is a taste of true power.”
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I stifled a groan that this was actually turning into a conversation. Give me explosive violence. But, please… oh, please, spare me the monotonous dialogue. “You say that, but this is something you’ve chased after for centuries. To really commit to that analogy, you would have to compare it to a one-night stand with a monumental hottie. A once in a lifetime bone. Like Chris Hemsworth, Zoë Kravitz, or… Jeff Goldblum.”
Sauntering over to the Corvette, Dorian ran two fingers down the edge of the hood. “Still, a temporary thrill.” Only then did my full message sink in. His face crinkled into a grimace. “Jeff Goldblum? Really?”
My shoulders rose and fell in a casual shrug. “What can I say? That zany confidence is working for me.”
Posture straightening, he wagged one index finger in my direction. “That, right there, further proves my point. Su
re, the endorphin rush of being in the sweaty, writhing action is fun… for a short time. Still, even that gets monotonous after a while. But to set up the players and watch them tear each other apart? Such power is akin to God! A thrill no carnal delight can compare to! Take your rather odd taste in celebrity crushes, for example. Every living being has their odd little quirks, such as that, which determine how they will react to different stimuli. It’s that element of mystery that makes people—living and undead—impossible to predict. And that, my dear girl, is why I no longer desire the Dragon.”
My tongue teased over the tip of my incisor, toying with the idea of dropping fang and showing this SOB how unpredictable I could be. Granted, I couldn’t kill him, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t rip his arms clean off his torso. Would they grow back? Would it be a Monty Python Black Knight kind of situation? As experiments go, it seemed like a fascinating one.
Awoke by the mere thought of violence, the Dragon purred in my ear, “Finally, you’re coming ‘round to my way of thinking.”
Choking back the desire, I angled to play nice. “And what is it you desire, Dorian?”
Dorian turned on the heel of an expensive looking shoe, swiveling my way with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. “In a word? You.”
After having been enthralled by him, the thought of that made my lady parts shrivel up into an arid dessert. “Let me extend you the courtesy of me putting this nicely; that’s not going to happen.”
Head falling back, he guffawed. “Oh, darling girl, if history proves anything, it’s that I could have had you a million times over.”
“Consent be damned, right?” I forced the words through my teeth, longing to sink my fangs into his jugular and drink deep.
Folding his hands in front of him, Dorian filled his lungs with a deep, cleansing breath. “Fear not, brave warrior. While an evening in your company does sound like an entertaining way to spend time, my plans are far less… primal.”
The Veiled Series Collection Page 45