“Join us, cara.” Arturo held out his hand to her.
Quinn grabbed her plate, intending to run it back to the kitchen. But Mukdalla was walking through the room and intercepted her.
“I’ll take it for you, Quinn. Go.”
With a nod of thanks, Quinn joined the two vampires. “What’s up?” They stood in a small circle to one side of the room.
“We’re moving up the timetable,” Arturo told her.
“Good. When are we going?”
“Now.”
Her eyes widened. “Let me get the book. I have to give Grant a little time to get online with Sheridan.” She hurried back to her bedroom and retrieved the worn hardback from beneath the mattress. Closing her door, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the plain and ancient cover. A History of Witchcraft in America.
Opening to the page where she’d first discovered Grant’s mystical handwriting, she pressed her fingertip to the paper and wrote, “Grant?”
A soft rap on her door had her rising. She opened it to find Arturo, and let him in. He joined her, sinking onto the mattress beside her.
“Sorcerer’s text, hmm?” He watched her curiously. “Is this how you and Grant planned your first escape?”
“Not exactly. But he did communicate with me this way.” She watched the page impatiently. “Grant has more power than he likes to let on, I think.”
“Perhaps. But not enough to renew the magic of Vamp City. There is no doubt of that.”
“And you think I do.”
“I pray you do, cara. For if you do not, I will lose many friends.”
Writing appeared suddenly on the page, a tight, handwritten scrawl overwriting the actual print of the book.
I am with Sheridan, now. How soon will you be in the Focus?
Quinn looked to Arturo in surprise.
He cocked his head. “What?”
She stared at him, then smiled with understanding. “You can’t see it.”
“See what?”
“The writing.”
His brows drew down, and he looked at the page, studying it hard. “I see only a page in a book.”
Grant had told her only a sorcerer could read the magical writing. “How soon will we be in the Focus?”
“He’s ready?”
“Yes.”
He rose. “We’ll leave at once. A half an hour. Less, if all goes well.”
She wrote the reply, then closed the book and joined him at the door. “I need to say good-bye to Zack.”
He followed her to the gym, where Jason was showing her brother how to block an attack and . . . holy cow . . . Zack was doing it, and doing it well. He was changing before her eyes, just as Jason said. He was still skinny, but with his shirt off, she could see the slight play of muscles on a chest that had, just days ago, been devoid of any but the most basic.
“Zack?”
“Yeah?” He didn’t even turn around. When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned to look at her, then strode to her, his expression sobering. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes. It’s time.”
To her surprise, Zack grasped her shoulders. “What about Cristoff?”
“He doesn’t know. We’re doing this under the radar.”
His hands tightened. “Are you sure?”
No, of course not. Anything could go wrong in this place. But she nodded. “We’ve got it under control.”
Zack frowned, frustration tightening his features, and she wondered, once more, where her easygoing brother had gone. “One day soon, I’m going to be the one protecting you. Not them.”
She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, feeling his surprisingly strong arms go around her in return. “Deal.” Pulling away, she kissed his cheek. “Love you.”
He kissed her cheek in return. “Love you, too, sis. Be careful.”
She turned and found Arturo watching them.
“Ready?” the vampire asked.
“Ready.” Taking a deep breath, she strode down the hall ahead of Arturo, prepared to meet her destiny.
Quinn accompanied Arturo and Micah outside, where Kassius and Neo waited, along with five saddled horses. “What’s the plan?”
Arturo explained. “Kassius will escort you to the Focus and wait until you are finished. Neo, Micah, and I will circle the area, keeping watch and staying close enough to rush in if you need us but not close enough to be spotted with you.”
Neo grabbed the reins of one of the horses and mounted. “I’ve scouted as far as the Crux. The coast is clear except for a pair of wolves on the hillside just inside. Friends of yours, I hope, Quinn.”
Arturo pulled her against him. “Neo, Micah, and I will leave first. I want Savin’s wolves to know what we’re doing and, hopefully, to help us stand watch.” He took her face in his cool hands. Even in the twilight darkness, he was a beautiful male, his eyes haunting in their intensity. “Be careful, tesoro mio.”
“You, too.”
He kissed her thoroughly, if quickly, then turned to Kassius. “Protect her well.”
“You know I will.”
Arturo swung onto his horse as Micah mounted beside him, and the three started off as Quinn and Kassius waited, giving the others a head start. Kassius would take the fall as Cristoff’s betrayer if they were caught.
Quinn glanced at the tall vampire. “You’re a good friend, Kassius.”
He was quiet for a moment before meeting her gaze, his eyes calm and sure. “I do this out of friendship, yes. But it’s far more than that, Quinn. Someday, Arturo will lead our kovena.”
She looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t know that was part of the plan.”
“Ax doesn’t know it. He doesn’t see himself as a leader, but the finest leaders rarely do.”
“Do you have the gift of foresight? Have you seen the future, then?”
He shook his head. “It’s not the future I see, but my wish that I express. The kovena needs Arturo. More than just the kovena. The true Arturo Mazza, whom you are only beginning to know, has the heart of a lion and the soul of a warrior for good. But, no, he’ll not challenge Cristoff, not until he’s convinced the master we once knew is not coming back. Not until he’s willing to kill him.”
“And that’s not going to happen easily.”
“No.”
“Do you think someone as evil as Cristoff can really change back?”
Kassius said nothing for a moment. “I don’t know, Quinn. I have known instances where a male has lost his soul and regained it again. But Cristoff has fallen so far that I’m not sure there’s any coming back. I just don’t know.”
“If Arturo challenged Cristoff, would the kovena support him?”
“A challenge is a fight to the death. If Ax goes against Cristoff, one of them will die. The winner is the vampire master. Period. The kovena would bow to his power. Some will rejoice. Others will not because Ax won’t allow the cruelty toward humans that they’ve become used to.”
Kassius motioned with his head to the pair of mounts that remained. “It’s time to go.”
They mounted and rode in silence. As they entered the Crux sometime later, Quinn caught sight of several wolves on the hilltops and in the trees. Keeping watch? She lifted a hand in greeting, and one of them gave a shallow bob of his head.
They kept their mounts to a walk until they were well within the Crux, then Kassius stepped up the pace, urging his horse to a canter. Quinn followed. The sooner they completed their task and got away from here, the better. She saw no sign of Arturo or the others, but she knew they were close enough to help if the situation truly went to hell.
Cresting a small hill with dead trees on either side, she glimpsed a familiar flash of colored light that reminded her, as it had every time she saw it, of a small, grounded, aurora borealis. The Focus was a dome of writhing, brilliant color—fuchsia, orange, and blue.
A thrill of anticipation chased the chill of dread down her spine. The last time she’d attempted to rene
w the magic, she’d been with Grant and Sheridan Blackstone. The three had entered that dome together, but the magic had attacked her, and they’d failed.
If she failed again, today, one of the most potent of the power days, Zack might well be doomed. And Vamp City along with him. None of the vampires believed V.C. would survive the three months until the next of the power days, the winter solstice.
Kassius pulled up about a dozen yards from the Focus, and Quinn did the same. She dismounted, then pulled the book from the saddlebag where she’d tucked it earlier.
“Wish me luck,” she said, eyeing that swirling mass of color with no small amount of trepidation.
“Good luck, sorceress,” Kassius said quietly.
Quinn took a deep breath and stepped forward. The magic wasn’t going to renew itself. As she approached the swirling color, she felt the same tingling on her arms that she always felt near the places where the two worlds bled through. But the magic here was far stronger. And as she stepped within that mass of color, she felt it, thick and heavy, coating her skin, stinging her flesh, as it had the last time.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and opened the book to the necessary page.
But when she touched the page, the book stung her and she jerked back. What the heck? She tried again, felt the same sting, but forced herself to continue, writing, I’m ready. The moment she finished, she rubbed her fingertip against her jeans, easing the sting. She was beginning to think magic was a bitch. Especially in this place.
She watched the book, glad that the swirling colors of the Focus provided adequate light for her to see. And a moment later, writing appeared in place of her own. Say these words as best you can. What followed was an almost indecipherable string of syllables that barely resembled words at all. Awwer lkjo weeje loiwer orqim coijwe olk aers owera pwid. Quinn stared at them with disbelief and a sinking feeling in the center of her chest as she remembered how quickly and effortlessly Sheridan had whispered the words last time.
As new words continued to scroll across the page, the first of them began to disappear.
“Shit.” She began to sound them out, speaking them as quickly as she could. And as she spoke, the magic continued to dig at her, raking into her skin, burning, stealing her breath. And suddenly that cutting heat broke the surface of her flesh, pouring inside like a boiling syrup, igniting. The book fell from her hands, and she crashed to her knees.
Cara! Arturo’s voice rang in her head.
Closer by, Kassius called to her. “Quinn?”
Her back arched with pain even as she felt the magic inside of her, even as she heard in her mind the words she must speak. Words nothing like the ones she’d been trying to sound out.
Forcing open her jaw, she repeated what she heard, a string of strange syllables that flew from her mouth as if she’d been born to them. The ground beneath her knees began to tremble, and she feared the sunbeams would break through again with Arturo, Micah, and Neo in the open.
Light flared up around her, light that appeared to be trapped within the Focus, blinding her. Thunder rumbled across the skies.
She could feel the power she sought there in the ground beneath her, but she couldn’t . . . quite . . . claim it. And without that power, she could not renew the magic of this world.
“Come to me!” she cried, then returned to the words that flew from her tongue in a torrent of unknowable sounds. It was a language she didn’t recognize. A language of magic calling to the forces of the earth.
The more she spoke, the harder she pulled at the magic, the more the pain burned and sliced at her until she was gasping for air between words, until sweat soaked her shirt and dampened her hair, until her eyes filled with dark tears and ran down her cheeks. She swiped at the tears, and her hand came away streaked with blood.
Quinn, you must stop. It is hurting you, cara. Come out of there!
“Sorceress, something’s wrong. Get out of there.”
But she ignored them both. She was here to renew the magic, and she would not fail. Zack’s life depended on it.
The storm rose up all around her, whipping her hair into her face, howling into her ears until she could barely hear her own screams.
So close. The magic was there, rising from the earth, inch by slow, painful inch. It was coming. She would succeed if she didn’t stop, if she didn’t quit. Sooner or later, she would succeed.
The sweat rolled down her temples. Her head spun. Magic pressed against her chest until she could hardly breathe.
Quinn! Arturo’s voice cut through the violence of the storm. You will kill yourself, cara. Come out. Please.
“Can’t,” she gasped. “I’m so close.”
Failure wasn’t an option. Not when Zack’s life hung in the balance.
Arturo flew off his horse and ran for the Focus, his vampire’s speed far faster than any beast’s. Unfortunately, his speed was of little use when he couldn’t breach the Focus walls.
Through the swirling colored lights, he saw Quinn on her knees, arched in agony, the blood running down her cheeks. He felt her pain, almost more than he could bear, because it was hers.
“Quinn!” His hands fisted, raised as if to beat on the pulsing energy, stopped only by the certain knowledge that touching that energy would send him, and any but a true sorcerer, flying backward. “It will kill you, Quinn! Come out!”
But she no longer even seemed to hear him. Her pain flayed him, her agony burned him alive. Her desperation clawed at him, her need to win this battle.
But at what cost?
“It is the curse that keeps you from succeeding,” he called. It had to be. It was the curse that attacked her, that had attacked her the first time she attempted to renew the magic. Neither of the Blackstone brothers had been bothered by it. They weren’t affected because they had no Levenach blood. Quinn alone possessed both Blackstone and Levenach blood.
That was the truth he’d finally figured out. Quinn alone.
“Cara, you must listen to me. The curse attacks you. The pull of the two magics will kill you. For nothing, tesoro.”
“It’s coming. I can feel it coming.”
Never had he met a more determined . . . stubborn . . . female. “You will die for nothing, Quinn. There is another way.”
A way that he would avoid at all costs. Except this, except her life.
He glanced over his shoulder to where Kassius sat, still mounted, watching him with fathomless eyes. Shoving his fists against his forehead, he turned back, struggling to find a way to reach her.
He could not let her die like this. He could not let her die.
The agony was beyond bearing, Quinn’s senses destroyed, her thoughts blown. Save Zack pounded through her head like a mantra. Save Zack save Zack save Zack.
Cara. Arturo’s voice sounded in her head. She’d thought she’d heard his voice in her ears, but couldn’t be certain. I no longer believe Zack’s magic sickness is being caused by Vamp City’s crumbling magic. It is the Levenach Curse that is harming Zack.
She frowned. “How is the curse hurting Zack?” She barely whispered the words, but he seemed to hear. “He’s not a sorcerer.”
What if you are wrong, bella? We know that you possess both Blackstone and Levenach blood. What if your mother was the Blackstone, but it was your Lennox father from whom you inherited the curse? As did your brother. Then it is the curse that is killing him.
“You don’t know that,” she cried. “You can’t know!”
This time his voice came clearly to her ears, every damning word. “I believe it to be true. I have suspected as much since we met with Tarellia. Kassius saw the struggling power within you, one strand of which Zack shared. We believed the one strand to be the crumbling magic. But her revelation that one was the curse made it all too clear. You are the only one in whom the two magics have blended.”
The words pelted her like sleet, freezing her to the marrow of her bones. He’d known Zack was a Levenach since they met with Tarelli
a. He’d lied to her about the one thing that meant the most to her in the world.
The power she’d struggled so hard to hold on to slipped between her fingers as shock radiated across her mind. He’d told her over and over again that only by renewing the magic would she save Zack.
Though she’d lost her grip on the power, the pain still burned, still tore through her, ripping and cutting. But around her, the storm slowly died, the howl of the wind turned to an agonizing moan.
“Kassius.” The name left her lips on a gasp.
“I am here, sorceress.”
“The truth. For once, I need the damned truth.”
There was a moment’s silence, and she turned, blinking the blood from her eyes as she found him standing beside Arturo just outside the Focus, their faces garish masks of swirling colors reflecting the Focus’s glow. Arturo’s hands were fisted at his sides, frustration in every line of his face, his eyes ablaze in pain.
Kassius watched her with compassion. “Ax speaks the truth as far as we know it. When I bit you in Cristoff’s castle, I sensed a connection between you and your brother and two powers struggling within you, one of which also attacked your brother. Tarellia’s revelation that you possessed both Blackstone and Levenach magic explained much. As did a bit of research that revealed the historical basis of the name Lennox to be, in fact, Levenach. Your father is almost certainly a Levenach descendant. Renewing the magic of Vamp City should cure Zack’s magic sickness, Quinn, but doing so is not the only way to save him. And it’s not the way at all if it’s going to kill you.”
“We have to break the curse,” she gasped, understanding. “Destroy Escalla.” Her pained, furious gaze swung to Arturo. “You promised me you were through lying.”
In the distance, a wolf howled. Closer by, a man shouted. “Gonzaga vamps have been spotted.”
“Cara. Hate me, if you must, but come, now. When you are safe, and well again, I will happily allow you to slam me against every tree and brick wall in Vamp City. But come. Please!”
She was in too much pain to move, but this battle was lost. And she would not go back to Cristoff.
She struggled toward the Focus’s wall. And then Arturo was sweeping her up, the wind flying through her hair as he ran. Darkness descended over her beaten, furious mind at last.
Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02] Page 27