Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02]

by A Kiss of Blood

  Though Arturo continued to watch her, he made no move even to acknowledge her. And he wouldn’t, she realized. He couldn’t without implicating himself.

  The guard steered her around the edges of the room, toward the dais, where Fabian was being straddled by two women—one over his groin, riding him, the other over his mouth.

  At the base of the dais, Quinn’s captor stopped, silent and waiting for his master’s attention. After less than a minute, the woman straddling Fabian’s face began to sway, her skin looking alarmingly pale. With horror, Quinn realized Fabian had been eating her in the truest sense of the word, his fangs sunk deep between her legs.

  Fabian gripped her tight, holding her against his mouth even as she collapsed, unconscious.

  He was draining her dry! With his fangs sunk into her femoral artery, he would, within minutes, if he could drink that fast. It reminded her of the way some of the kids used to shotgun beers in college, opening a hole in the bottom of the can so that it poured quickly down their throats.

  Fabian, she thought, stomach turning, was into shotgunning humans.

  As she watched in horror, he tossed the woman onto the floor, like the empty vessel she now was. Blood running down his cheek, he grabbed the hips of the woman who fucked him, driving into her vampire-fast. But as he caught sight of Quinn, he slowed, then stopped.

  Raising himself up on one elbow, he glanced at her guard.

  “Who have we here?”

  The magic beneath her skin began to sting.

  “We found a freshie raiding the pantry. She must have snuck in from outside.”

  Fabian’s smile bloomed slow and dangerous. “Steal from me, would you?” He waved his hand at the woman still attempting to ride him. “Go.” Without hesitation, she pushed up and off him, moving away from the chaise.

  Fabian sat up, his erection still thick and hard. “Bring her here.”

  Quinn’s breath caught, the magic bubbling. If she didn’t get control, her eyes were going to glow, and the gig was going to be up. The sorceress revealed.

  His fingers tight around her arm, the guard pulled her up the stairs to stand in front of the pale, skinny Fabian. The vampire master rose to his feet as she approached, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair with surprising gentleness, even reverence.

  “Beautiful. Like spun gold. Your skin like porcelain. Take off your clothes, lovely. I’ll finish inside of you.”

  No way in hell. Her pulse tripped, escalating fast and hard as she considered her exceedingly limited options. This was the reason she should have held on to her stakes.

  “Now, woman,” Fabian snapped.

  “Go to hell.”

  The hand in her hair tangled and jerked, and he pushed her head down toward his erection.

  “I prefer pleasure to pain, but I will have obedience. Either you submit to me here, or I’ll hand you over to my guards, to be taken away and used in any way they wish. Most of my guards are pain-feeders, in case you’re wondering.” He jerked her head up again, making her cry out from the ripping sensation along her scalp. “Submit.”

  She met his gaze, terror and fury twining inside of her, feeding the flame beneath her flesh. “No.”

  Fabian jerked back, his face suddenly a mask of shock. Slowly he began to grin. “Well, well.”

  Ah, crud. Her eyes must be glowing.

  Arturo, damn his vampire hide, finally decided to join her. He rose and moved to Fabian’s side, smiling a hard, humorless smile. “Hello, sorceress.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Arturo grabbed Quinn’s arm roughly, turning on Fabian. “You’ve been harboring her.”

  Quinn’s knees nearly buckled as Arturo took her out of Fabian’s grasp. She’d inadvertently handed Arturo the upper hand and, to her vast relief, hadn’t blown his cover at all. She just had another role to play now, as Arturo pretended to be discovering her here for the first time. Unfortunately, the relief was having no effect on her building power.

  Fabian scowled, a hint of alarm in his expression. “I had no idea she was here. Cristoff must believe that. I’ve never seen her.” His gaze slowly raked over her. “I would certainly remember if I had.”

  Arturo remained silent for several moments, acting thoroughly steamed. Finally, he released a frustrated sigh. Cristoff’s snake was more than a first-class manipulator. He was a hell of an actor.

  “Cristoff will be most pleased that you found her.” His voice sounded conciliatory on the surface, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “I am quite certain he’ll send a gift of appreciation. But I must return her to Cristoff immediately. If he learns that I delayed in returning her to him once I found her, he will be furious, of course.”

  Fabian’s expression shifted back and forth between consternation and frustration, clearly irritated with the turn of events that now forced him to take a defensive role.

  His mouth twisted with annoyance. “Of course.”

  Quinn was trembling now as the magic burning beneath her skin fought to get out. Slowly, the ground beneath her began to shake, escalating quickly in violence. Crystal crashed to the tile floor, shattering, snuffing candles. Vampires and Slavas alike cried out.

  At any moment, her power would fly, pushing them all back against the walls. And then what? She’d never escape, not surrounded by vampires. But Arturo might lose the upper hand, especially if Fabian became enraged. She needed to find a way to pull it back, tamp it down. She must!

  The power turned on her suddenly. One moment she was shaking as if she were about to blow. The next she felt as if a dozen knives were slicing up her flesh. With a cry, she doubled over from the ripping, ungodly pain. It flayed her body, tearing at her mind until she could feel nothing else and think of nothing at all.

  The agony tripled as she was lifted and flung over a hard shoulder.

  “I will leave for Cristoff’s when my Slava awakens,” Arturo told Fabian.

  Quinn didn’t hear Fabian’s response if he made one. She felt them moving, cried out in agony with every one of his steps.

  I am sorry, tesoro. So very sorry. But he cannot know how your pain slays me.

  A lifetime later, she felt herself lowered gently onto a hard mattress. Cool fingers stroked her cheeks. “Cara mia. Tell me what you need. Tell me how to help you.”

  She reached for his hand, clinging to his strength. “I didn’t want to throw you against the wall.”

  “So you swallowed the power.”

  “I suppose. It attacked me.” Slowly, the pain began to die, and she released a pent-up breath as she realized she was no longer in danger of losing control.

  A rap on the door had her opening her eyes and Arturo pulling away.

  “Ax.”

  At the sound of Micah’s voice, Arturo strode to the door to let him in.

  “What happened?” Micah demanded.

  Quinn struggled to sit up, the pain still darting across her skull.

  Micah grimaced. “Your glamour didn’t last, I see. At least you were hidden.” He glanced from one of them to the other, frowning. “Someone saw, didn’t they? What happened?”

  Voice tight, Quinn told them everything.

  “Fuck. Sorry about that.” Micah sighed. “I can glamour you again, but it’s not going to last long. I’ve about depleted my stores keeping my own glamour up. A little passion might help, but Quinn’s clearly in too much pain to feed me any pleasure.”

  And that was the truth if there ever was one.

  Arturo sat beside her and pulled her against him. His hand was cold where it brushed hers, and she took hold of it and lifted it to her aching forehead.

  “That feels good,” she murmured.

  He kissed her hair, stroking her arm with his free hand until, slowly, the pain slid away. His gentleness tried to stir something soft deep inside of her, but she kept remembering the way he’d watched as Fabian threatened her, making no move whatsoever to come to her aid. She had to believe he wouldn’t have let it go too far. He wouldn�
�t have stood there and watched Fabian rape her. But she couldn’t forget the way he’d watched Cristoff beat her senseless a couple of weeks ago and never raised so much as an objection.

  She pulled away. “We have to go to Vintry. Immediately.” She didn’t dare leave this room as herself, not yet. Pulling up her sleeve, she strode to Micah and offered him her wrist. “Feed. I need you turn me back into Jillian.”

  Micah looked at her with surprise, his gaze swiveling to Arturo. But when Arturo started toward her, she held up her hand. “No. Just Micah. Just blood this time.”

  Arturo frowned. “Cara.”

  “Vampire . . .” She glanced at Micah, who was watching them curiously, though his fangs had already elongated. “Would you please eat? We don’t have much time.”

  His expression bemused, Micah took her arm and lifted her wrist to his mouth, sinking his fangs painlessly into her flesh.

  “You are angry with me,” Arturo said quietly. “I would not have let him hurt you.”

  She met his gaze and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “That’s good.”

  His mouth tightened. “You do not believe me.”

  For a long moment, she stared at him. “Honestly, I don’t know, Vampire. You’ve changed. I know you’ve changed. And yet it was just two weeks ago when you watched Cristoff break my ribs and did absolutely nothing to stop him.”

  “I have explained . . .”

  She sliced her hand through the air. “I know. I understand why you couldn’t challenge him before and that your conscience was still half-buried. I even understand that racing to my aid today before it was absolutely necessary would have been the wrong thing to do. That with any luck the situation would turn to our advantage, which it did. None of that alters the way I feel right now.”

  Micah lifted his mouth from her wrist. “Kiss him, Quinn. Either kiss him or kiss me because without a complete feeding, I’m not sure I’ll be able to call your glamour up.”

  Quinn stared at him hard, wondering if he was trying to take advantage of the situation, either for his own gain or his buddy’s. She felt Arturo move up behind her, felt his hand slide lightly over her hair.

  “I would not have let him hurt you, cara mia,” he said quietly. “I will not let anyone hurt you. Never again.”

  Dammit. She didn’t want this, this softening. And yet a part of her longed to believe him, longed to be back in his arms. She turned and met his gaze, her mouth tight. But she gave a brief nod, and that’s all he needed.

  His finger lifted her chin. His head dipped. Sliding his hand into her hair, he pressed his mouth to hers, a tender brush of lips, undemanding, and as gentle as dew on a rose petal.

  Her response was slow in coming, but it was his gentleness that tore away her defenses. The breath she’d been holding trembled out of her on a sigh as her body melted against his. She lifted her arms and circled his neck, pressing her mouth more firmly to his.

  His lips parted, stroking hers, then diving inside when the last of her resistance gave way. And then thought fled, and she spiraled into sensation and passion and the certainty that this was where she belonged, where she’d always belonged.

  Behind her, Micah cleared his throat. “That’ll do it, kids. You did say time was of the essence?”

  Quinn pulled away as Arturo lifted his face, his eyes as warm as his skin now. He cupped her cheek, then turned to Micah. “Did that help?”

  “It did indeed.”

  Micah took her hand and pulled her in front of him to work his own personal magic. “Welcome back, Jillian,” he said after several moments. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to last long. Probably not much more than an hour.”

  Quinn nodded. “Then I’ll have to be back in an hour.”

  As Micah reached for the doorknob, Quinn turned to go, and Arturo curled his hand around her shoulder from behind.

  “Someday you will trust me implicitly, bella.”

  “I hope you’re right, Vampire.”

  As it was, she trusted him far more than she’d ever thought possible given what he was. And what he’d done. But trust had never been something she gave easily. To anyone.

  Quinn followed Arturo the short distance to the second pantry, slipping inside, while Arturo grabbed the torch, and Micah ran interference, distracting the only vampire close enough to see them.

  The moment Arturo followed her into the pantry, Quinn opened the door to the dungeon and started down. Quietly, she led the way back to Vintry’s cell.

  This time, the old fae was sitting up, waiting for them, his eyes bright and excited. At the sight of them, he rose slowly, painfully, to his feet, a smile stretched across his face.

  “The Healer and the Snake.” But as he neared the bars, he frowned. “You’ve still not found the key?”

  Quinn shook her head. “We haven’t been able to look for it.”

  Vintry waved it away. “No matter.” He reached a bony hand between the bars and grabbed Arturo’s wrist. His eyes widened. “You’re no vampire.”

  “I assure you, I am.”

  “You’re warm.”

  Arturo nodded, a funny look sliding over his face as he glanced at her. “I’ve been kissing the sorceress.”

  Vintry made a comical and charming expression of surprise, then began to cackle. “Of course, of course.” As his laughter died, he eyed Arturo seriously. “You were born to this world for a purpose. A purpose you must not forsake. The Healer needs you. And you her. Cleave one to the other, or all will be lost.”

  Quinn frowned at his words, but there was no time to ask questions. Not now.

  Vintry reached for Quinn’s hand, then set it on top of Arturo’s when she gave it to him. “Hold her,” he ordered Arturo.

  After only a moment’s hesitation, Arturo stepped behind Quinn, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his cheek to her hair. “How’s this?”

  Vintry nodded. “Fine. Better.” He thrust both of his hands through the bars. “Take my hands, sorceress. Be quick. I’ve not much time.”

  Quinn did as he commanded, sliding her hands into his warm, bent ones.

  The ancient fae closed his eyes. “Blackstone and Levenach, as you said,” he murmured. “Honor. Good, good. Strong. Binding. Healing. You have great power within you, sorceress. Power that Cristoff will desire once he discovers you possess it.” One eye opened, and he squinted at her. “You must not allow him to get it.”

  Arturo pulled her closer. “Cristoff will never touch her again.”

  Vintry turned that one eye on him, staring at him long and hard. “Untrue.”

  Quinn jerked.

  Arturo’s arm tightened. “I vow it,” he snarled.

  “Yes, yes, yes. It is you who needs her power, Snake. You who needs it.” The old fae just closed his eyes again.

  Quinn stared at him. Could he really see the future? Did he know that Cristoff would ultimately catch her? Dear God, was that really going to be her fate? She’d known it was likely from the moment she’d agreed to return to Vamp City. Still, she wouldn’t change anything, not if it saved Zack.

  “My brother,” she began. “Is he somehow tied to my magic?”

  “No. I sense nothing like that. Just the curse strangling your Blackstone magic.”

  “Then why is he suffering magic sickness?” she murmured.

  “Don’t know. I cannot tell you without seeing him for myself. Too late now.”

  Arturo’s chin brushed her hair. “He’ll be fine once you renew the magic of Vamp City.”

  For at least ten minutes they stood like that, Vintry silent, his eyes closed, holding her hands. Finally, he began to frown. “It is tangled, too tangled. I cannot free one from the other. Not entirely. The curse must be broken for that. Break the curse, and you will have the power you were born to, sorceress.”

  “But the curse can’t be broken.”

  That eye opened again, squinting at her. “Aye, it can. Destroy Escalla. So long as Escalla exists, the curse lives.”

  Now it
was Quinn’s turn to frown. “Escalla? You mean Cristoff’s sword?” She’d seen that jewel-hilted blade when Arturo first handed her over to that monster. Cristoff had taken her into his study, pulled the sword from a special case, and laid it in her hands. Then declared she had weak magic.

  She turned to glance at Arturo, to question his previous statement that only the one who’d uttered the curse could break it. The Black Wizard who was long dead.

  But he only shrugged as if he, too, were hearing this for the first time. And maybe he was. Besides, what difference did it make? If she could save Vamp City with her Blackstone magic, she and Zack were getting the hell out of here and never coming back. She had no need for magic in Australia. Or New Zealand.

  All she’d ever wanted to be was normal.

  Vintry opened his eyes. “I’ll set free as much of your Blackstone magic as I can, girl, but it’s not going to come easily. Or silently.”

  Quinn narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  But he closed his eyes again and didn’t answer for another several minutes. Finally, he opened both eyes and dropped her hands. “It is done. Hold on to your hat, girl, your magic is about to explode.”

  “What?”

  “You have a few minutes. Maybe an hour. Now go!”

  “What do you mean, explode?”

  Arturo grabbed her arm. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

  As he started to pull her down the hall, Quinn called back, “Thank you, Vintry!”

  “Cleave one to the other. Only together will you prevail!”

  Quinn ran for the stairs, Arturo close behind with the torch. At the top, she eased open the door, then slipped into the pantry, the vampire close behind. Arturo strode into the hallway, replacing the torch, then grabbed her hand. And dropped it as if it had burned him.

  “Come,” he said in his best slave master’s voice, remembering himself as he strode into the kitchen, presumably to steal away through the back door.