The Dark's Mistress (The Saint-Pierres)

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The Dark's Mistress (The Saint-Pierres) Page 12

by Hauf, Michele


  “Cleanse her heart?”

  “Why yes.” Zoë nodded, as if just realizing what she’d said could work. “A cleansing. I think that could do the trick! I need to check my grimoires. You shouldn’t wait. But I’ll call you, yes?”

  “I’ll give you my number. But I haven’t much time. The duel is at midnight out behind Nôtre Dame.”

  “Consecrated ground. Interesting. Well! I’ll need an hour or two. Don’t worry.”

  “Do you think you can save her?”

  “I don’t want to make any promises, but I’ll give it my best shot. But you had best lay low. If the big dark goon from Beneath can control your thoughts he can certainly see into them as well. As soon as he gets an inkling of what you are attempting to do…”

  Johnny nodded. “Got it.”

  “Will your father be okay? Does he need…assistance?”

  “Uh, I think he’s good. Mom is watching him closely. It was one night.”

  “Right, but you know the prince of youknowwhat will be keeping a close eye on him. I’ll see if I can mix up a batch of something to make faery dust taste repulsive to a vampire. Just as a safety measure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Fine, now you go to your girl, but don’t give away our plans. Got it?”

  “I’m not even sure what the plan is, so I can do that. Thanks, Zoë.” Johnny stood and when he stepped out of the sitting room he walked right into a yawning mortal man with biceps twice the size of his. “You must be the hunter?”

  “Ah hell. Zoë?” The man looked to his lover, who stood behind Johnny. “Really?”

  “Kaz, this is Johnny Santiago.”

  “I see.” The man looked him over. “Vail’s son.”

  “Johnny, meet Kaspar Rothstein. He’s with the Order of the Stake.”

  He offered his hand to shake and Johnny reciprocated.

  It was strange to shake a hunter’s hand. The man existed to annihilate his race. From a vampire’s perspective he could be placed on the same level of evil as the devil Himself. Yet earnestness exuded from the man and his sure grip. No wonder his father trusted him. It had been wise to come to Zoë.

  “I’m helping him with a little love situation,” Zoë explained as she escorted Johnny to the front door.

  “Your hair going completely white with this one?” Kaz asked.

  Johnny made an enquiring lift of brow toward the witch.

  She shrugged and opened the door, smiling as she gestured he leave. “We’ll see, lover,” she called. “We’ll see!”

  * * *

  An hour later, as Johnny stood in Nôtre Dame’s north tower waiting for Kam, he answered a phone call from Zoë. She’d found the exact spell in one of her grimoires to cleanse Kam’s heart. And the process was incredible.

  He shoved a hand back through his hair. “Are you sure, Zoë? That’s—I don’t know.”

  “It’s the only way to save her. We have to cleanse her heart of the darkness Himself has placed there. She is beguiled.”

  “We?”

  “I’ll need two other witches to help me. I know Libby St. Charles will be glad to help, and we’ll find a third before midnight.”

  “Midnight? But I’m meeting Himself at midnight.”

  “I’ll try to hurry, but with all the spell prep we’ll be cutting it close as it is. No matter what happens, you can trust we will be there for Kambriel. Even if you’re…”

  Dead, he finished her sentence in his head. He strolled along the stone balustrade, and kicked a gargoyle in the tail. “I’m not sure, Zoë. This is some deep shit.”

  “The moon is full. It’s the only time this will work. And you don’t want to leave this realm knowing she’s still under the devil’s control, do you?”

  “No. Never.” Even the witch thought he’d bite the big one tonight. Great. “I just. I’m not sure I can do what you need me to do.”

  “You’ll need to if you want to save her. We’ll be waiting before city hall. The former Place de Grève is ground sacred to us witches of the Light. Bring her heart to me, Johnny.”

  “I’ll do what it takes.”

  He hung up and exhaled all his breath. His shoulders slumped and he bent forward, catching his palms on the gargoyle’s spine. “Bloody hell. She wants me to rip out Kambriel’s heart.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The phone rang three seconds after Johnny had hung up. It was his mother.

  “I can’t find Summer!” Lyric panted into the phone. Johnny stiffened at the sound of his mother’s uncharacteristically frightened voice. “I laid her down for a nap an hour ago and now…”

  Johnny shoved a hand back through his hair. Could Himself have called to her? Of course, he could have. Bastard. But she was a baby. She couldn’t possibly go in search of the devil on her own.

  “Where’s dad?”

  “He’s here. We’re heading out to look for her. We’ve torn the house apart. Johnny?”

  “I’ll look too, mom.”

  And he had a good idea where to start. Why would Himself lure away Summer now, tonight, when he was soon to crush Johnny to a pulp? The old lad had him exactly where he wanted him; he didn’t need to torture his family any longer.

  “You and dad stay together. Did you check with Becky?” The neighbor girl—a mortal teenager— frequently babysat, and had access to the Santiago kitchen and playroom. “We’ll find her.”

  “Thanks, Johnny. Becky is on vacation with her family. And I don’t think Summer got out on her own. We’d have found her close to the house. Someone has taken her!”

  “She’s going to be okay, mom. We’ll figure this out.” He wasn’t going to tell her his suspicions about Himself. That would freak her out all the more. He heard Vail call for his mom in the background. “I’ll let you go. I’ll keep my phone on and we’ll touch base often.”

  Hanging up, he turned and fisted the cathedral wall, swearing.

  “Johnny?”

  Kam stood in the south tower. A dark angel perched upon the sacred and whose feet had not yet touched mortal ground, she beamed. Yet Johnny knew she was more tainted than any creature that walked this earth.

  Vacillating between the search for his baby sister and what he was compelled toward, he leaped up onto the balustrade and ran along it to the opposite tower to land beside Kam.

  “You should leave, Johnny.”

  “Yes, I have to. It’s Summer, my little sister. I think that bastard kidnapped her.”

  “Oh, hell.” She caught her face in her palms. “This is all my fault. You never should have gotten involved with me. I never should have asked you to help me.”

  “You have so much faith in my survival skills?”

  She touched his mouth then smoothed those fingers along his shaved scalp. “I’m trying to be practical.”

  And for a few moments he dropped the worry and just took the world as it came to him. It was weird and fucked-up and so not right. But standing before Kam was the only place he should be right now. Because if Himself did have Summer, he’d see her soon enough.

  “This is practical.” Wrapping her into his embrace, he wanted her to feel him enter her in the only way she trusted him to, and to know he would always be with her. Even after… “If I could give you my heart right now, I would.”

  “That would be rather messy,” she said, a teasing smile softening the mood.

  Yes, but the mess had to be made. Only it wouldn’t be his heart dripping over the city’s cobblestones. Hell, could he seriously do it? Rip out her heart? Zoë had explained Kam wouldn’t die unless her heart burst, so she would remain in a sort of catatonic state while they worked the spell on her heart.

  But really? He couldn’t ignore the fact his sister was missing. To save Kam or Summer?

  “I wish I could die so you could live free,” he said, kissing her softly on the cheek. “You deserve it. You walked into this situation innocently. If only getting you out was going to be as easy.”

  “I don’t think anything
worth fighting for should be easy, do you?”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. And what’s a little pain before death, eh?” He punched a fist into his palm. The urge to smash Himself’s face into the next realm was too strong. “I have a feeling that boyfriend of yours is going to twist me into all sorts of interesting shapes before I give up the ghost.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. You are, Johnny. And I don’t want to live if you die.”

  “Don’t say that. Once you have your freedom, that’s all that matters. There’s lots of guys in this world, vampires who would love to treat you right.”

  “There’s only the one I want to kiss.” Moonlight twinkled in her gray eyes. Beguiled didn’t sound so awful since he was the one experiencing it right now. “But here I go again, asking too much of you. You’ve got to look for your sister.”

  “Mom and dad are out searching the city. I have a feeling if Himself does have her, he will bring her to me, so I should stay put.”

  “If you think that’s best?”

  “I do. Besides, there’s something I need to do before the big showdown.”

  “What is it, lover?”

  He wished they could stand like this forever, beneath the moonlight, knowing the warmth of each other’s bodies, the compassion in their shared gazes and the genuine love that seemed to swell in his veins.

  He couldn’t tell her what he had to do. That would scare her, and—who wanted advance warning when they were to have their heart ripped out?

  “One last bite,” he whispered, kissing her throat. “Before I die.”

  “You’re so dramatic. Mm, yes. Drink of me deeply. Let me feel your fangs pierce me.” She gasped as his fangs sunk into her neck.

  He wanted to remember her darkly sweet taste as he died for her. And yet, just thinking it now—he was ready to die for her—didn’t make sense. He should live for her. Because he didn’t want it all to end tonight. And if she loved him, then wouldn’t she ultimately be more hurt if he died?

  “I have to live,” he said suddenly. Her blood dripped from his mouth onto her shoulder. “I need to live.”

  “Yes, for me, Johnny.”

  Looking down into Kam’s eyes, he promised, “I will not die this night.”

  A knightly promise he made to the damsel. Guess Dante had been right about that gauntlet. He fell to his knees and kissed her hand.

  A rush of wind slammed Johnny against the cathedral wall. His throat closed up. The feeling was sickeningly familiar, only this time it was with the added twist in his gut as his intestines knotted.

  Below, on the parvis, Himself charged out from a mist of sulfurous blackness. He thrust out a hand and flicked it toward Kambriel. She grasped her chest. With another flick of Himself’s fingers, she spilled over the balustrade, plunging to the stone courtyard below.

  Johnny shouted. The sound of his anger released him from the wall. He ran for the balustrade and, planting his hands on the stone, catapulted over the edge. As he fell through the air, he saw Kam stood beside the mighty dark Prince. The demon’s eyes glowed maniacally. Those horns—should he land too close—would eviscerate him.

  Johnny landed on his feet, ten paces from the demonic dark lord. No sign of Summer’s blonde ringlets. If she was anywhere near, surely she’d be bawling. “What did you do with my sister?”

  Himself chuckled, low in his throat. “She’s near.”

  “Release her! Release them both!”

  "I can't leave," Kam said. "He won't allow it."

  "We'll see about that," Johnny said.

  He rushed toward the devil Himself, prepared to move through the dark beast to rip out his black heart and condemn him to Beneath where he belonged.

  "This ends now!" Johnny yelled.

  Himself lowered his head, the bull preparing to charge. The glinting points of his horns leveled with Johnny's heart. He leaped, and collided with the beast, his body missing the horns and slapping the broad black shoulder, and toppling Himself backward. But they did not fall to the ground. Instead, Johnny's body was repulsed backward. He landed on the ground beside Kam, who lay there sprawled, her eyes closed.

  "Kam?" He hadn't time to joggle her awake. The devil was upon him.

  Lifted into the air by his bicep, Johnny kicked and landed a boot toe in the devil's kidney.

  Himself grunted, dropped Johnny, and slapped his hands together. A brilliant red spark snapped out from between his palms. Johnny dodged as the wicked sure-death singed his pant leg.

  "She is mine," Himself growled.

  "She will never love you! Never will she give you the one thing you ask of her."

  "I am patient. I have eternity."

  "You're killing her by making her store innocent mortal souls!"

  "Love lives beyond death."

  Disgusted to imagine his beautiful Kam a servant to the devil Himself even after her death, Johnny fortified his efforts. He swung up a high punch and landed his knuckles against the demon’s hard, ungiving jaw. Himself swung an arm, catching Johnny atop the head with a sharp elbow. His skin opened and blood spilled down his forehead and between his eyes.

  "A scratch!" he mocked his attacker. He bent and charged the beast. How to defeat the undefeatable?

  Of a sudden the earth loosened under his feet. Johnny staggered back from the blow of his shoulder connecting to Himself’s adamant form. Stones and earth spilled away from his feet. He stepped to the side, landing on a solid surface and watched as the stone courtyard around him opened to fall away. Not as if an earthquake opening up a seam in the ground, but rather, the ground fell downward into a vast abyss.

  "Beneath," he whispered.

  All around him the vast chasm gaped. He stood upon a narrow line of earth, a dash cutting through the abyss. The ancient Roman ruins beneath the fore of the cathedral had been exposed, sliced through and crumbling.

  Nearby, Kambriel lay on an island of ground, still unconscious. He could reach her with a leap—

  Himself grabbed Johnny by the back of the throat and dashed his body into the narrow line of earth.

  * * *

  He was fighting an impossible fight for her. And for his little sister.

  No matter how many times Himself repelled Johnny, or stabbed him with a talon or horn, or broke yet another of his bones, Johnny pulled himself upright and took it all. He even invited more torture with a defiant rock n’ roll sneer. He would not stand down.

  More earth fell away, rumbling the ground upon which Kam lay until she had to grip at a sharp edge to keep from rolling off the narrow finger of land that supported her. Above, the sky roiled black and gray, angrily swirling clouds into a fusty mixture. If any mortal witnessed this, surely they would think it the end of days.

  Again, Himself thrust a horn through Johnny’s body, spearing his shoulder and ripping out muscle and flesh. The vampire yowled, staggered, yet managed to flash his wickedly sexy grin and gestured with his fingers to dish up more abuse.

  Himself served Johnny more torture, and more, and more, and—Kam couldn’t watch her lover’s annihilation. She pressed her face into her hands and screamed for it to end.

  * * *

  The vampiress’s voice cut through the battle, a siren’s sword drawing the winning line. Himself wobbled and fell off the edge of a narrow finger of earth. Without a sound, the dark prince spiraled downward into the darkness.

  Johnny inhaled and fell to his knees, his fingers clutching the edge of his dash of earth. "He's not dead. He'll be back."

  Eyeing Kam's island not far off, he swiped the blood from his eyes and judged the distance. He had to attempt it.

  Running along the narrow dash, he leapt, soaring through the air, and his feet did not land on Kam's island. Instead, his body slid down the serrated side of it. He shouted and his fingers grasped for hold. Slipping. His bodyweight tugged him toward Beneath.

  To battle Himself endlessly after.

  Broken bones snapping at odd angles, Johnny's fingers dug into earth. He
scrambled for hold with his boot toes and managed to wedge them into the hard, dry earth. Pulling himself up, he landed next to Kam. Panting, and rolling to his back, he stared up at the odd Paris sky. White fluffy clouds and birds flew overhead, as if nothing whatsoever was strange below. As if the earth had not fallen away.

  He had to get Kam out of here and to safety. And then he’d find Summer. Himself had said she was near.

  Shaking Kam gently and whispering her name, he could not rouse her. Pushing the hair away from her face, he kissed her cheek. "We're almost there," he said. "I promise you."

  Lifting her and putting her over his shoulder, he then took a leap and landed on another narrow dash of land, not stopping but moving into a run. The earth gave way in the wake of his footsteps, and he increased his speed, racing death.

  And then he landed on cobblestones, and the sky darkened, and a streetlight beamed across the limestone building walls. He was back in Paris. Real time.

  Drawing Kam down to cradle in his arms, he looked about. He’d crossed the bridge to the right bank. The city hall square loomed before him, a few tourists yet wandered around the carousel taking photographs. This was the location where he was to perform the most heinous act in his life.

  The witches must be near.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Can you save her?" Johnny asked.

  Libby St. Charles, a curvaceous redheaded witch, lovingly smoothed the hair from Kambriel's face. "She's so pretty."

  “I’ve cast a glamour about us,” Verity Von Velde, a fellow witch with dark violet hair said. “We’re safe here, unseen by mortals.”

  Johnny nodded, finding little reassurance when faced with what must come next. His body had been mangled, bones broken, and his skin was torn and bleeding, but he was close to healing one-hundred percent.

  "We need her heart," Zoë with gentle assertiveness. "You know what you've been told, Johnny." She nodded to Verity, who handed him a black-bladed athame. "Do it quickly."

  He took the blade, but couldn’t commit to a firm grip. He'd been told to cut out Kam's heart. It was the only way the witches could work the spell. They would put it back after they'd cleansed it of Himself's guile.

 

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