The closest vamp began to chuckle. “You were about to lose this one anyway.”
He thought Zack had worked himself free. Of course he would.
Without warning, she felt the hard press of cold hands on her jaw and gasped, her heart leaping until it thundered in her ears. Only by sheer force of will did she manage to keep her eyes closed and her hands behind her back.
“This one’s plain as mud, but serviceable. Open your eyes, chippy.” He squeezed her jaw hard, until her eyes began to water. “I said, open!”
But there was no way in hell she could do that, not unless she wanted to give up the game. Because she knew her eyes must be glowing by now. She could feel the energy surging through her veins, wild and uncontrolled, and a new thought had her head pounding. If her power flew free, the vampires might be tossed away from her. But Zack could get caught in it, too, and hurt.
Her hands began to shake with the force of her struggle to hold a lid on the power. The best thing she could do was calm down, but that wasn’t happening, not with a vampire threatening to break her jaw.
Her whole body began to shake like a volcano ready to blow. Beneath her, even the wagon started to vibrate.
“What the hell are you doing, chippy?” the vampire growled.
The vampires circling the wagon shouted. “Sunbeams!”
“It’s nighttime, you moron. There’s no sun in either world at night.”
The hair on Quinn’s arms lifted, and she knew the worlds had opened nearby. Suddenly, she could hear the dull roar of traffic and that constant buzz of electricity that most were never aware of until it was absent. A car alarm bleated in the distance.
It was all she could do not to open her eyes, to see the world she’d left behind. The power crawled through her veins, cutting even as it burned, seeking a way out. If something didn’t give soon . . .
We are coming, cara mia. Arturo’s voice rang in her head. Remain calm.
Right. Calm. She had a vampire ready to claw her eyes open, and she was shaking so badly from trying to hold back the power that, for a minute, she’d thought she’d caused the earthquake that had opened the break between the worlds.
“Ho, there!” Arturo called, the sound of hoofbeats carrying to her beneath the sounds of her world. “By order of Cristoff Gonzaga, I demand to know who and what you take from his lands.”
The Trader with the deep voice replied. “Slaves, Arturo Mazza. Just slaves who came in through a sunbeam.”
“Mazza?” The vamp holding her released her suddenly. “Bollocks.”
“A sunbeam on Gonzaga lands,” Arturo continued smoothly, “which makes them Cristoff’s property. You know what happens to those who steal from Cristoff, Trader.”
“Just searching for one of my escaped freshies,” the vamp who’d been accosting her said, moving away. “This one isn’t her.”
Ha. No shit, Sherlock.
And just like that it was over. A moment later, over the loud rumble of a truck, she heard what sounded like horses galloping off into the night. Was it Arturo who’d scared them off, or the threat of what Cristoff would do to them?
She didn’t know and, at the moment, didn’t much care.
“They are gone, cara,” Arturo said, his voice drawing near. “But keep your eyes closed. The glow will be seen far in the distance.” She felt his hand cup her knee “You are shaking like a leaf.”
“I’m not in control.” She pulled her hands from the ropes, stretching them in front of her. “Get Zack away from me. Get everyone away from me.”
“I have a better idea.”
She felt Arturo’s arms slide beneath her knees and behind her back. “What are you doing?”
“Moving you away. If your power flies, it may spook the horses.”
She couldn’t argue his logic. He lifted her into his arms, and she curved her arm around his neck and held on tight as he began to run. Being in his arms felt so natural, so right, so . . . safe. It was a mistake to feel that way, she knew it. And yet on some gut-deep level, she trusted him. She always had, which was why his betrayals had cut so deep.
The wind raked at her face and hair, but strong arms held her tight. And as quickly as the ride began, it ended.
“Where did you take me?” Quinn asked breathlessly, struggling not to open her eyes.
“A quarter of a mile from the others, no more.” He set her on her feet. “Release your power, bella. It is safe here.”
“That’s easier said than done.” If she knew how to release it, she’d have fired her energy at the Traders in her apartment instead of her gun.
“Lift your hands and blast me, Quinn.”
She tried, willing the power to fly, but nothing happened. And she was still shaking.
He gripped her jaw as the other vampire had, though not enough to hurt her. “Think of all the times I lied to you,” he said harshly. “Remember how I delivered you to my master knowing he would hurt you. I stood there and watched him hurt you, Quinn, and did nothing to help.”
His voice ached with regret, but the memory was too fresh, too raw, and he was right. She wanted to hurt him for it, dammit. She needed to make him pay for what he’d done.
The fury rose slowly, melding with the power fighting to escape. She slammed her hands against Arturo’s chest, pouring her anger into him. And suddenly, he was gone, the power tearing through her fingertips. And then she was flying back, too, slamming into the hard ground, burning alive on a backdraft that tore through her body, making her cry out from the agony.
“Quinn!”
As she lay in the dirt, gasping for air, cool, gentle fingers stroked her head. “You’re hurt.”
The wind knocked out of her, she gasped for air, but the power was already draining away. “Are my eyes . . . ?” She blinked them open and closed again.
“The glow is gone.”
She opened her eyes to find him bent over her, his face tight with concern.
“I’m fine, Vampire.” She sat up, stifling a groan, and reached behind her. “My gun.” It must have flown free when she landed. As she pushed to her feet, Arturo picked up something off the ground, her gun, and handed it to her.
Shoving it in her waistband, she looked at him with surprise. “You really trust me with this?”
“I ask you to trust me, cara. The least I can do is trust you in return.”
“I’ve made no promises not to hurt you.”
“You have not.” His expression was serious, but gentle. “You have honor in abundance, and I do not believe you’ll try to kill me unless I deserve it.”
She considered that. “There are times already when I’ve thought you deserved it.”
“I know. I am sorry, tesoro.”
And she believed he meant it. “How far did I send you flying just now?”
“A good twenty feet. That was quite a blast.”
She snorted. “Too bad I didn’t get to see you land.”
His mouth kicked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’d have enjoyed that, would you?”
“I would.”
His expression sobered. “The power caught you, too. You could have been hurt.”
“My power doesn’t like me.” As they started back toward the others, she glanced at him. “Vampire, do you think it’s possible that I caused the worlds to open this time?”
Silence. “Why do you ask?”
“I started shaking from the force of the power. The next thing I knew, the wagon started shaking, then the ground. It wasn’t until then that the hair rose on my arms, and I started to hear my world. Usually, the shaking comes last, not first.”
Her looked at her with fathomless eyes and shrugged.
Quinn lifted her brows. “It would seem that not only might I have the power to save your world. I might also be able to hasten its destruction.”
They returned to the wagon, and she and Zack resumed their captive pose. As the wagon bounced over the rutted terrain, questions bombarded her mind. Had she cause
d that last break in the worlds? It made a certain kind of logical sense that a sorceress’s power could affect the magic of a sorcerer-created world.
That kind of power could act as a potent threat to hang over the vampires’ heads should they ever consider betraying her again. Unfortunately, in truth it was just another factor of her magic that she couldn’t control. Every time the sunbeams broke through, Vamp City came a little closer to dying.
And now, it seemed, so did Zack.
Chapter Seven
Quinn lost track of time as the wagon continued on toward its unknown destination, Arturo and Micah once more disappearing into the darkness. The ride made her teeth clack until she finally locked her jaw against the jostling. With her power dissipated, she felt fine again, at least.
As they started down a dead-tree-lined path, she turned and peered between the seated Traders, able to make out some kind of dark structure against the moonlit sky. Was this their destination? It appeared quite small and unassuming though unassuming wasn’t a bad quality for a hideout.
As they drew near, she realized the house wasn’t as small as she’d first thought. It was, in fact, a small mansion. Lights shone faintly from around the edges of almost all the windows, behind curtains or shades of some kind. She had some time to absorb the true size of the place as the wagon slowly circled the house. In the back jutted a small, covered carport. What would they have called it in 1870? Portico, maybe. It would provide protection against the rain and some measure of privacy to those coming and going.
The Traders drove the wagon under the portico roof and far enough through that Quinn and Zack would alight from the back in that covered, protected space. As the wagon came to a lurching stop, the back door of the house opened, illuminating the space in a swath of low, warm light. A man stood silhouetted in the doorway, a tall man with broad shoulders and what appeared to be long jet-black hair tied at the nape of his neck. His features remained in shadow.
“Did you meet with any trouble?” the man asked, his accent faintly Middle Eastern.
“Vamps from York’s kovena tried to abscond with our slaves,” the smaller of the Traders said as the pair alighted from the wagon. “Until Arturo threatened Cristoff’s wrath.”
The man grunted. “Serves them right.”
Quinn pulled her hands from the loose ropes and followed Zack as he scooted from the back of the wagon. As they approached the door, the man stood back, inviting them in with a smile and a flourish.
“Welcome.”
When Zack started forward, Quinn grabbed his arm. “We’ll wait for Arturo and Micah.”
The man lifted a brow, his smile fading to a look of understanding. “They’ll be arriving momentarily, but not through this door. Guests come to the front. It would seem odd to anyone watching if they were to enter this way.”
The larger of the Traders started for the door. “Only Traders and slaves use the back.”
“Those we wish to appear to be slaves,” the man said quietly. “Come inside, sorceress. You will be safe here, I promise. And safer inside than out.”
Quinn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started forward. Zack followed. As she stepped into the house, the man turned to the side to allow them entrance, revealing an intriguing face. His bone structure was strong and attractive, his eyes tilted slightly, with a shape that spoke of a hint of Asian ancestry, except that they were as blue as a clear summer sky. In those eyes, she saw no cunning, no cruelty, just a wealth of curiosity and intelligence.
“I’m Neo,” he said, his voice as deep and rich as his skin tone, his mouth tilting up into a hint of a smile.
“Quinn. But you knew that.”
His smile widened, reaching his eyes in a way that had surely slain more than a few feminine hearts. “I did.” He ushered them into a back room that appeared to be at once storage room and office, a desk on one wall piled with paper and ledgers and books. She wondered what kind of paperwork could possibly be needed in Vamp City, where everyone appeared to simply take what they wanted. “We shall wait here for your friends.”
“Are you a vampire?” Zack asked Neo, a hint of challenge in his tone that surprised Quinn.
Neo met his gaze, then gave a small nod. “I am. But perhaps not the kind you’re used to meeting here.”
“I’m intrigued,” Quinn murmured. “Exactly what kind are you?”
Humor lit his eyes. “The good kind. I was brought to V.C. as a slave in 1973 and turned into a vampire eight years later. But I have never lost my conscience. Nor have I ever accepted what I am.” He shrugged. “I did not choose to be turned and have not forgotten what it’s like to be a slave. Nor have I ever forgiven the Traders and vampires who stole my life from me at the age of twenty-two.”
His vehemence surprised her and rang convincingly true. Was it possible for a vampire to continue to identify with his human origins even after he was turned?
“Yet you work with Traders.”
“They are not the ones who stole me off the streets of D.C. And you will learn, Quinn Lennox, not all Traders are the same. Just as all vampires are not. Nor humans, for that matter.”
“How do you feed?” she asked him.
“Blood and fear.”
“You don’t act like a fear-feeder.”
His mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile. “I feed quite adequately on those who already fear. I’ve no need to cause it.”
“Then you’re an anomaly around here from what I’ve seen.” She cocked her head as she studied him. “If what you say is true.”
He watched her steadily, then shrugged. “I have no need to lie to you. I am who I am, sorceress. You will have to accept help from some in this world if you are to survive. But accepting help is not trusting, not entirely. Trust is something that must be earned.”
She couldn’t have said it better.
Voices in the hallway had her glancing at the open door as Arturo appeared, Micah close behind him. Relief snaked its way through her, easing her mind, if only a little. She might still have walked into a trap, but her instincts told her that wasn’t the case, that she and Zack really were safe here. As safe as they could be anywhere in Vamp City.
“Come,” Neo said, and started toward the door. “I wish for the others to meet our guests.”
Arturo motioned for her to precede him, and she did, Zack behind her. Neo led them down a narrow hallway, through a comfortable-looking living room, and into a library lined with bookshelves. One set of shelves had been opened like a door, revealing a long, wide staircase leading down into a well-lit basement. She wondered what the trick was to opening the hidden door, then decided Neo had intentionally not revealed it to them.
Arturo started down the stairs first this time, Quinn and Zack behind him. They were less than halfway down the long stair when she heard something heavy and creaking behind her and looked back to find Neo closing the bookcase. She supposed that was a good thing. If anyone got inside the house who didn’t belong, they’d have trouble finding the way down here.
The question was, if she needed to, would she be able to find the way out?
The room that came into view was large and open, and surprisingly inviting, dotted with leather sofas and chairs of various sizes. In the center sat a large oval table upon which a small feast had been laid out—platters of small sandwiches, cheese and crackers, raw vegetables and dip, and a host of what appeared to be tiny cheesecakes.
Behind her, Zack made a sound of appreciation.
Two women stood beside the large table, one of whom appeared to be of the Trader race, her shoulders as broad as a linebacker’s, her face wide, her eyes glowing bright orange.
The other woman was petite and pretty, with long, wavy dark hair that glowed with the phosphorescence that marked her as an immortal human, or Slava.
To Quinn’s surprise, both women smiled and moved forward to greet Arturo warmly, each getting a kiss on the cheek from the vampire in return. Arturo turned, gripping Quinn’s s
houlder lightly.
“This is Quinn Lennox, though you’ll have to wait until Micah’s glamour wears off before you’re able to see her true likeness.”
“This is Mukdalla,” he said, motioning toward the Trader female.
The Trader smiled and reached for Quinn’s hand. “It is my pleasure, sorceress. You are most welcome here.” Quinn had thought the woman homely at first glance, but the wisdom radiating from her eyes and the warmth of her smile had Quinn reassessing.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mukdalla.”
Mukdalla’s glance slid from Zack to Quinn, and back again. “Siblings? You have the same eyes.”
Quinn sighed. She was glamoured, for heaven’s sake, and still the woman saw the resemblance. She’d learned the hard way that it was not in Zack’s best interest to be revealed as her brother. Loved ones could be used against you too easily in this place. But it seemed that he’d been revealed anyway.
“My brother, Zack.”
“Hello, Zack,” Mukdalla said kindly.
Arturo nodded to the other woman. “This is Dr. Amanda Morris.”
“Just Amanda, please.” The woman extended her hand, shaking Quinn’s, then Zack’s. “In my old life, I was a family practitioner.”
“You still have a practice,” Neo said behind them. “It’s just changed a bit.”
Amanda snorted. “You might say that.” Her gaze returned to Zack, peering at him a little too long and in a doctorlike way that had Quinn tensing. “I was captured several years ago, escaped my master about a year later, then was captured and bought by Cristoff.”
Quinn winced. “I’m sorry.”
Amanda’s gaze met hers. “I’m not. Kassius kept me away from the house and, upon learning that I was a doctor, had me brought here.” She looked back at Zack. “I’d like to do a brief examination of you, Zack, if you’ll allow it.”
Zack eyed her warily. “What kind of exam?”
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