But the attack had not quelled Cristoff’s fury. He grabbed the Slava who’d handed him the towel, threw her down onto the hard pool deck, lifted his foot, and brought it down hard.
“Where is that bitch? Someone find me the sorceress!”
The crack of ribs accompanied the woman’s agonized screams.
“Where is she?”
Slavas would heal most injuries quickly enough. The words Arturo had told himself a hundred times flowed through his head, but this time found no purchase. There was no excusing such barbarity, such cruelty against not only an innocent, but one of his own.
Arturo clenched his fist against the need to do something, and struggled to keep his face a mask of indifference. How had he remained complacent in the face of Cristoff’s brutality for so long?
His pulse thundered in his ears. It was Quinn whom Cristoff attacked in absentia, Quinn who would suffer his rage if he ever got his hands on her again.
“Find her,” Cristoff said, turning to Arturo, his voice more plea than demand. “If anyone can, it will be you, my snake. You’ll find her, and you’ll return her to me. You’ve never failed me, my loyal one. Never.”
For a moment, Arturo saw the echo of the friend Cristoff used to be behind the mask of the monster he’d become. Could he be saved? Was the old Cristoff still in there?
He prayed, for all their sakes, it was so.
“I will not fail you, Master.” And he wouldn’t. Quinn would renew the magic of Vamp City, saving them all. Then she’d disappear back into the real world before Cristoff discovered that his snake was also his traitor.
“Go.” Cristoff waved him off with a casual motion, and Arturo strode from the pool deck and the castle.
As Arturo passed through the great wrought-iron gates, he felt sick at his stomach at what he’d witnessed and stunned that such a display would not have fazed him even a couple of weeks ago. He’d felt nothing before. Nothing.
Micah was right. His conscience really had been in hibernation. But it was no more. Quinn had changed him, he was certain of it, with her kiss and the sunshine that seeped inside him, warming his flesh, every time. That was magic, the same magic that would renew Vamp City.
Assuming he found a way to free it for her.
He must.
And Cristoff must never find out.
Quinn woke after a restless night. Or maybe it was just a few hours. It was impossible to know without the morning sun shining in a window. Or a bedside clock. She fumbled for the lighter, flicking it, then glanced at her watch in the light of the small flame. Eight thirty. In the morning, she assumed.
Climbing out of bed, she padded across the hall and quietly opened Zack’s door to find him sound asleep, hanging off the small bed in three different directions as he snored softly. Closing his door again, she stood still and listened, hearing voices in the distant rooms, and a short burst of laughter. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, easing the tension from her shoulders. Safety and welcome pervaded this place.
Grabbing her jeans, a cotton sweater, and clean underwear, she took a quick shower, then dressed. When she’d donned her boots and armed herself, she followed the smell of coffee and food back into the room with the conference table, where they’d gathered last night.
Neo, Mukdalla, and a male Quinn hadn’t seen before sat at one end, empty plates in front of them, steaming coffee mugs in hand. Neo looked up at her with surprise, and no recognition, shooting to his feet in a move that was distinctly threatening. In a vampire flash, he was across the room, his hand around her neck.
“Who are you?”
“Quinn,” she choked, reaching for her stake.
His eyes narrowed, then lit with sudden understanding. He released her and stepped back as she pulled the stake clear of her jacket pocket, ready to wield it.
“My apologies, sorceress. Your glamour’s worn off.”
Quinn’s heart was about to leap out of her chest as she stared at him, shaken from the sudden attack and the reminder that weapons only worked against vampires who weren’t expecting them.
“Are you okay, Quinn?” Mukdalla asked worriedly.
“I’m fine.” Neo hadn’t hurt her, he’d just startled her half to death. “On the plus side, I’m now fully awake.”
Neo smiled, but his expression remained apologetic. “I saw a stranger in our midst and thought we’d suffered a breach. I forgot you’d been glamoured.” He motioned to the table. “Come. Fill a plate and join us as we adjust ourselves to the real you.”
As her pulse slowly calmed, Quinn served herself from warming dishes filled with scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash browns. Behind her, the others returned to their discussion, tossing about names, arguing whether their first concern should be the mom with the three kids or the young man whose ailing mother was dependent upon him for support. Quinn assumed they were deciding whom to include in their next escape attempt and was glad the decision wasn’t up to her.
As she approached the table, Neo rose and pulled out the chair to his right for her. She sat, wondering if the gentlemanly manners were the norm with vampires or with males in general who’d been born before a certain time.
“How did you sleep?” Mukdalla asked cheerily, claiming the seat across from her, her eyes bright with warmth as if Quinn, whom she barely knew, was her favorite person in the world. And maybe she was. After all, it was Quinn who they believed would save their world.
It was odd to have so much weighing on her shoulders. The hopes of a world she still wasn’t convinced should be saved.
“I slept well,” she told the other woman. “Zack’s still asleep.”
Mukdalla placed her hand on the arm of the male beside her. “This is my husband, Rinaldo.”
The male nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quinn.”
“You, too.”
Rinaldo wasn’t a handsome man, not by any stretch of the imagination—his face was too long, his mouth too small. But he was no Trader, which was interesting. And his eyes, when he glanced at his wife, shone with love.
“He’s a vampire,” Mukdalla said, answering Quinn’s unspoken question. “We’ve been married for over four hundred years.
Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Congratulations?”
Neo chuckled. “Immortality takes some getting used to. It’s rare to find a mate one wishes to share eternity with.”
Mukdalla’s expression turned serious. “Rinaldo and Neo are both trapped by the failing magic. I don’t have to tell you how thrilled I am that you’re here, that you’re going to renew the magic.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.” Quinn hated to keep reminding them she had no idea if she’d be able to call the power she’d need to do it. And she couldn’t give voice to the nagging question of whether she even should. The more vampires she met, the more confused that question became because she was beginning to suspect there really was such a thing as a good vampire. Fortunately, that wasn’t a decision she had to make. As long as Zack’s life was entwined with V.C.’s magic, she would do everything she could to renew it.
At least two vampires would survive either way.
“Where’s Arturo?” she asked, cutting a bite of sausage. “And Micah.”
Neo answered her. “Micah is upstairs, keeping watch. Precaution only. We take turns. Arturo had to run an errand.”
An errand. “Cristoff.” Her appetite fled at the thought.
“Yes.”
“Cristoff doesn’t know about this place, does he?”
“Absolutely not.” Neo looked horrified at the thought. “Only those you’ve met know about us, and a handful of others, both vampires and Traders.”
She glanced at Mukdalla who was sipping her coffee. “I’m curious about something.”
Mukdalla smiled. “You can ask anything.”
“What are Traders?”
“Ah.” Mukdalla set her mug down. “We’ve been called by many names. The most common being demon.”
Quinn’s eyes wi
dened, her jaw dropping before she snapped it closed.
Mukdalla’s smile widened. “Precisely why we prefer the term Traders.”
Rinaldo covered Mukdalla’s hand. “True demons are nothing like your popular culture, or your religious texts, portray. They are no more inherently evil than humans; nor do they reside in any subterranean sauna. Like vampires, they are immortal though not indestructible. Unlike us, they are born, not made.”
“There are actually many races of demon,” Mukdalla added. “The Traders are just one, but the most common in Vamp City. The fae are another.”
“Fae,” Quinn murmured. “Fairies and demons. I suppose I shouldn’t feel shocked.”
“Humans always do when they first learn of the supernatural,” the other woman said kindly. “The best thing you can do is remember that we are all individuals with our own hopes, our own needs, and our own senses of right and wrong.”
“Don’t judge the book by the cover, you mean.”
“Yes. Exactly. But a healthy dose of wariness with those you don’t yet know—especially those more powerful than you—is a very good thing.”
Quinn turned back to her breakfast, and the conversation she’d interrupted with her arrival resumed, flowing around her. When she was finished eating, she rose. “Where should I take my plate?”
“Leave it.” Neo stood. “Come, Quinn. I have someone I want you to meet, then I want to show you something. As a scientist, I think you’ll find this of interest. As the sorceress, I want your reaction.”
He had her attention. Glancing down the hallway that led to their bedrooms, she saw no sign of Zack. Turning back, she followed Neo down a different hallway to a fully outfitted gym lit by oil lamps. The equipment, of course, was all of the nonelectrical variety—stationary bikes, NordicTrack skiers, weight benches. Half a dozen people were working out, four men and two women, all in shorts and T-shirts, a couple in bare feet.
“Jason,” Neo said, and one of the men lifting weights reset his weight bar and stood to quick attention, his bearing distinctly military.
Neo turned to Quinn. “This is Jason Grimes. Arturo asked me to find a trainer for Zack before he left this morning, and Jason has agreed to do it. Quinn Lennox,” he told Jason.
The man wiped his hand on his shorts and extended it to her. “Nice to meet you.”
Quinn sized up the man, liking the kindness she saw in his eyes. “Zack . . .”
Jason nodded. “Arturo talked to me about him before he left, that he’s untrained and very down on himself for not being able to protect the women he loves.” Something hard and pained moved through his eyes. “My wife and I were captured together over a year ago. I didn’t stand a chance against those fuckers . . . pardon me, ma’am . . . and we were separated.” Emotion tightened his features, and he looked away for a moment, gathering himself. When he turned back, fire burned in his eyes, but also compassion. “I’m an ex-Marine, ma’am. I understand the Marine way of training raw recruits. Your brother does not qualify for such a method. He’s already been to Hell and back. What he needs now is a return of his dignity and the tools to take control the next time. As much as any human is able against the immortals. I’m happy to help him with that.”
“Thank you, Jason.”
As Neo turned away, Quinn followed him back through the main room and down yet another spoke of the wheel of the sprawling safe-house underground. “Was Jason’s wife killed?”
“He doesn’t know. He’s been all over this city, slave to three different vampires, but he’s never found any sign of her. I keep offering to get him out of V.C., but he refuses to go without her even though he must know she’s probably dead. We’re looking for her, too, now. At the moment, he’s being forced to keep a low profile.” Neo snorted. “He took out nearly a dozen vamps in his escape from his last master.”
“How long does he have before he turns Slava and is stuck here for good?”
“Six months at best. Honestly, I doubt he’ll leave even then. Not without her.”
She ached for the man. “Love can be a terrible burden sometimes, can’t it?”
“It can. You’ve risked much to save your brother.” Neo turned, studying her as they walked, a smile breaching his face. “You’re not what I expected, sorceress.”
Quinn peered at him. “Why? Were you expecting me to show up in flowing black robes with a wand in my hand?” She meant for the comment to be light, and failed. She’d never been comfortable with what she was, and she didn’t like that everyone here knew.
“I meant no disrespect, Quinn,” Neo said softly, the smile dying from his eyes.
Quinn sighed. “I know. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I just . . . I don’t think of myself as a sorceress.”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “It’s hard to change your self-image overnight. Been there, done that.”
She peered at him. “Is that what happened to you when you became a vampire?”
“It is. As I told you, I was a slave here for years. I hated the vampires.”
“Yet you became one.”
“Not by will, I assure you. The one who turned me did so just to infuriate me . . . or kill me. Most who are turned don’t survive. But I did. And the first thing I did was kill him for it.”
“Have you killed . . . others? Humans?”
“No, though it was a near thing a couple of times.”
“You have more self-control than most.”
“Either that, or I simply have more passion for my self-professed calling.”
“Saving people.”
“Giving them the freedom to return to their world, to the sunshine, as I so desperately fought . . . and failed . . . to do myself. It feels like a losing proposition, sometimes. For every human I free, other vamps and Traders bring in two more. But I feel like I thwart the grand scheme with every person I get out of here. And I never tire of watching the joy and tears in the eyes of those I help send home.”
Quinn nodded. “I get that. I freed half a dozen slaves through a sunbeam a few weeks ago.” She thought of Marcus and the others she’d handed out of Vamp City that day. Soon after escaping with Zack, she’d looked up Marcus and spoken with his wife on the phone, who’d burst into tears of gratitude when she’d told her who she was. Marcus had wanted her to come meet his wife and daughter, and she’d promised to. Sometime. Now she wondered if she ever would. His wife had told her they’d all made it out safely. Celeste, who’d been a newly turned Slava, had had a heart attack as she’d traveled through, but Marcus was trained in CPR and had been able to get her heart beating again. She was fine. Her hair had even turned back to normal.
Apparently, Slavas reverted to their true age upon leaving VC. That sudden aging, even if they weren’t too old to live, tended to kill them. Celeste had only been immortal for a year, and, still, without Marcus’s intervention, she’d have died.
Neo watched her with interest. “You clearly have power, to be able to free slaves through a sunbeam, Quinn.”
Her mouth twisted. “Someday I’m going to be a force to be reckoned with.”
“It will happen,” he said kindly. “You’ve not yet come to terms with it. You’ve not yet embraced it.”
“I’ve spent too many years hating it. Have you come to terms with being a vampire?”
“I have.”
She looked at him with surprise and was met with a quick grin. “I’ve learned to appreciate the benefits of incredible strength and speed, of never suffering pain or injury for more than minutes at a time. And to appreciate the fact that I never age. Immortality is a gift, Quinn. One I never asked for, but one I have come to enjoy. Once you learn to control it, your power will be a gift to you.”
He was an interesting man, Neo. She felt comfortable with him. “Don’t you miss the sun?”
“I do, though I’ve found ways around it. Until the magic began to fail and I became trapped, I used to frequent the movie theater in Georgetown on a regular basis. In the dark safety
of that theater, with the films rolling, I could immerse myself in your world and pretend I lived once more in the sun. It might have been a false, Hollywood sun, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. And I miss it.”
She followed him into a large storage room at the end of one of the tunnels. A deserted room far from anyone else. Neo seemed nice enough, but he was still a vampire. And she suddenly wondered if anyone would hear if she shouted for help.
“You’re in no danger, Quinn,” Neo chided softly. “I wish only to show you something that you’ll find interesting.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Perhaps not. But your tension has risen.”
“You can feel it.”
“A little. I’m very sensitive in that way, able to feed off of almost any wariness. That’s why I have so little need to cause true fear. Everyone who comes here is at least wary. Most are thoroughly terrified.” He looked at her evenly. “If you’d rather wait for Arturo or Micah, I’m fine with that. But there’s something I need you to hear. I believe there’s a permanent break in the worlds down here.”
She met his gaze and saw no subterfuge. And at the high peel of childish laughter deep within the storeroom, her eyes widened and she motioned Neo to lead the way through the stacks and stacks of boxes that appeared to fill the room. As they walked, the music carried to them, followed by voices.
But when they turned the final corner, there was no one there.
Neo smiled with bemusement and drew his finger to his lips.
As she listened, she realized the music was a children’s tune on television. Overlaying it were the voices of children. And a woman.
“Are you finished with your cereal? Aidan, where’s your vitamin? Did you eat your vitamin?”
A little girl piped up. “He fed it to the roses.”
“Aidan . . . did you put your vitamin in Mommy’s rose vase again? Son . . .”
Quinn smiled, meeting Neo’s gaze, a hundred questions on her tongue. Neo escorted her back through the path of boxes until they could talk quietly without being overheard.
“I hear them regularly when I’m in here. We all do. Since you can travel out through sunbeams, I was wondering if you can find a way through there. If you can, it would save us untold efforts in getting slaves out through the Boundary Circle though I imagine Aidan’s mother would have a heart attack.”
Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02] Page 10