In her arms, Aimee trembled, but one hand lifted to rest against Cassandra’s shoulder.
The darkness of her dhamphir nature rose, urging her to keep drinking, then claim the witch, but Cassandra fought her instincts. Even through her body armor, she could feel how soft and delicate the other woman was and it stirred in her the deep need to protect Aimee at all costs. Even from her own bite and touch.
Surprised to find herself shaking, Cassandra withdrew her fangs. Her fingers tangled in Aimee’s hair, she tenderly licked the small punctures closed with her tongue, healing them.
With a soft sigh, Aimee sank against Cassandra, her other hand rising to rest on the dhamphir’s other shoulder. “It didn’t hurt at all.”
Inhaling the sweet scent of Aimee’s hair, Cassandra embraced the woman, holding her gently. “It’s okay now,” she whispered in a breathy voice. Aimee’s blood fed power into Cassandra’s limbs. This time, the darkness the dhamphir fought against after feeding did not bare its fangs. Instead, she felt as though she was filled with the wondrous magic of the night sky.
“Thank you for coming for me,” Aimee said, her voice rough with emotion as she gently drew away from Cassandra. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”
Shielding her heart with a cocky shrug, Cassandra winked. “Aww, c’mon. After that dream about all that tasty ice cream, how could I not come? You recommended the mint chocolate chip, right?”
The smile that graced Aimee’s face pleased Cassandra. “Definitely.”
Cassandra was startled when Aimee started tugging her heavily embroidered white dress over her head. “Um, whoa, wait...”
Aimee yanked it off and rolled her eyes at Cassandra. “You’re not that irresistible.” Underneath she was wearing a tank top and black stretchy skinny jeans that were rolled up to her knees. Leaning over, she rolled the hems down to her ankles. “I had to wear the dress so Frank wouldn’t get suspicious. I have a bag ready in my room, which is just a door down from this one. I just need a few seconds to grab it and my sneakers.” As she spoke, the witch began tearing open the spell bags that were set around the room. Fishing out amulets and smaller bags, Aimee gave Cassandra the impression that she was gearing up for battle, which she probably was.
“Do you have a better way out of here than how I came in?”
“There’s a balcony past the game room that looks over my garden. We can drop down, scale the wall, and run for it. You did bring a car, right?”
“Absolutely.” Cassandra picked up one of the bags, flinched, and tossed it to Aimee. “What the fuck is in that?”
“Vervain. Vampires can’t get near the stuff. According to my research, it’ll make you feel a bit...uh...disoriented.”
“It makes me want to hurl,” Cassandra answered, wrinkling her nose at the stench.
Aimee gathered the last of what she wanted from the bags and headed toward the door. “I planted other potions inside the bags to help us get out.”
“You had this all figured out,” Cassandra said, impressed.
“Except for Frank forcing me to drink his blood and re-enforcing the bond last night. I didn’t see that coming. It made today...difficult.” Aimee tucked the bags into the waistband of her jeans and started to tap in the code to open the door.
“You’re free of him now. And once we’re out of here, he’ll never fuck with you again.” Cassandra fought the desire to take the woman in her arms and soothe her. She had to keep focused on the task at hand. Already her body was vibrating with power, ready to fight, and flee.
“I’ll never let anyone do that to me again.” Aimee said, her voice steely. She watched the display on the control panel, then wrenched the door open. Scooting across the hall, she entered a room, but didn’t flip on the light. “Wait in the hall. Keep an eye out. I won’t be but a sec.”
Cassandra cautiously stepped into the hallway. Her eyes quickly scanned for any potential weapons. There were none. Inside the darkened bedroom, she could hear Aimee scurrying about.
Seconds later, Michael came around the corner his tranquilizer gun slung over one shoulder. He stopped in mid-stride, staring at Cassandra in disbelief.
“Surprise,” she said starting toward him. He was a big guy, but she was certain she could take him down.
“Stop!” he ordered, holding out one hand. “I’m on your side. Scott sent me.”
Hesitating, Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“I’m the inside guy. Scott thought this whole set up was a bit fishy and got me in. I’m the one who provided the codes and schematics.”
“So why didn’t you steal the relic?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.
Reaching slowly into a small pouch on his utility belt, Michael said, “Let me show you.”
Aimee stepped out of her bedroom wearing a tapestry bag looped across her chest and came up behind Cassandra, pressing the hilt of a dagger into her hand. “Don’t trust him.”
Cassandra fell into a fighting stance, ready to attack.
“Let me show you, okay? How else would I know about Scott?” Michael looked exasperated. “Scott suspected there was something up, okay?”
“Drop the gun on the floor, then show me,” Cassandra ordered. She was uneasy with the entire situation. After her dart gun failure, she wasn’t even sure she could trust Scott or anyone working for him. It could have just been a fluke, but the whole situation just reeked.
Michael’s hand hesitated, then moved instead to unsling the tranquilizer gun from his broad shoulder. “Fine.” Using the strap, he lowered the gun to the floor.
“Kick it over,” Aimee directed.
Shaking his head, Michael obeyed. “You’re wasting time. I have an exit strategy and you’re blowing precious seconds.”
Plucking the gun off the ground, Aimee stood behind Cassandra.
“Show me the relic and then I’ll consider going with you,” Cassandra said in a firm voice.
With very slow, deliberate motions, Michael flipped open the pouch and slowly extracted the exact same relic Cassandra had been sent to snatch. “Satisfied?”
“No, but we’ll follow you. No funny business.” Cassandra motioned for him to lead.
“Scott said you’d be a suspicious bitch,” Michael grumbled.
“Stop talking and move.” Cassandra held the sharp ceremonial dagger in her hand, ready to attack.
“I don’t trust him,” Aimee whispered.
“Me neither,” Cassandra whispered back.
The tall handsome man moved down the hall to the corner. “We’ll head across the second floor to the game room and exit from the balcony.”
Aimee and Cassandra exchanged glances. Cassandra shrugged. “Fine.”
“It’s clear,” Michael said, then hurried along the other hallway.
Cassandra was impressed when Aimee covered the stairway as they scurried past it, then took up the rear guard. On the floor below, Frank’s voice ranted loudly. Michael led them swiftly through the dimly-lit corridor and into a massive room that was filled with large TVs, a billiard table, various gambling tables, and old arcade machines. It reeked of stale cigar smoke and something cloying and chemical.
The sound of a tranquilizer gun sent Cassandra spinning about, dagger held defensively. Aimee staggered into her arms, surprising Cassandra. The witch slumped forward seconds before a dart punched into Cassandra’s neck, sending her reeling. As she fell backward, clutching Aimee with one arm, she realized they had been ambushed.
Two men slipped into the room from the hallway just seconds before shouts and gunfire erupted downstairs.
The room swung around Cassandra and she staggered against the billiard table. Her limbs were going numb and her vision was tunneling. The dagger fell from her slack fingers and she tried not to lose her grip on Aimee.
Picking up the tranquilizer gun he had relinquished earlier, Michael smirked at the two women. “I wasn’t expecting the witch to side with you, but I’m glad I carried around this piece of crap anyway.” Michael
fished the relic out its pouch and tossed it to the floor. “Scott said you wouldn’t be easy to catch. I think I’ll declare him wrong. He didn’t realize you’d be trying to save the damsel in distress.”
Aimee’s fingers tugged at Cassandra’s gloved hand. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were moving slightly. Cassandra’s keen hearing couldn’t make out the words. They sounded like gibberish.
More men entered the room. Cassandra fought against the dart, burning blood to keep herself conscious. Her eyes started to droop, but she kept pushing through the haze with her powers.
“Arnost, I told you, piece of cake. The witch and the dhamphir for your little menagerie,” Michael said, greeting a man with a brooding face and dark hair.
“You did well, Michael,” the man said with a distinctive Eastern European accent. “Not only did you get me a witch, but a very lovely new dhamphir. I haven’t owned one in so long.”
The soft, warm fingers of the witch wrapped around Cassandra’s bare fingers as the glove dropped to the floor. Aimee was a dead weight in her arms, but Cassandra could still hear the faintest whisper from her lips.
“Fuck you,” Cassandra slurred, trying to cover Aimee’s voice. “You assholes. This whole... thing... a setup.”
With a magnetic grin and a shrug, Michael said, “Oh, come now, Cass. Don’t be so bitter. We’re both in the acquisitions game. You get relics. I get supernatural toys for very rich people. I was after that lovely little witch in your arms when I took on this security job, but when I found out from Scott that Frank wanted you, I just had to let Arnost know about that little deal.”
“I’m going...” Cassandra struggled with her numb tongue.
“Yeah, you’re gonna what?” Michael smirked.
The dart fell out of her neck and onto the floor.
“How long before she goes out?” Arnost asked briskly, clearly annoyed by the fact that she was still standing.
“I’ll shoot her again,” another man offered.
“No, no. I like her this way. All helpless and desperate,” Michael said, brushing them off. “She can barely stand.”
A cold liquid began to trickle from the puncture wound in her neck. Cassandra started to lift her hand to brush it away, but then realized what was happening. She could feel Aimee’s magic building, her fingers trembling in Cassandra’s. Even as her head grew clearer, Cassandra deliberately slumped against the billiard table. Let the assholes think they had her in their power for the moment. It would give her the element of surprise.
“She’s almost out,” Michael continued. “Look at her struggling.”
Arnost and the other men chuckled.
A man with beady eyes and a very sallow complexion drew closer, his dart gun aimed at Cassandra. “I want to fuck her.”
Arnost shrugged. “After I break her. I’m not interested in her fuckin’ pussy. I want her powers. I want her loyalty. It’s the witch I plan to fuck without mercy for that little spell she cast on me.”
“Blood bonding both of them is going to be a bitch,” Frank’s angry voice said. He was shoved into the room by more armed guards wearing very different body armor from his men. “The witch is especially a pain in the ass.” His face was bruised, bleeding, and his shirt was pockmarked with bullet holes.
The crackling sensation of their combined power played along Cassandra’s hand. The sedative was racing out of the puncture, moistening her skin, while her thoughts were becoming increasingly lucid. She could feel her strength returning. It was now a matter of seconds.
“So this is a fuckin’ double-cross,” Frank spat, glowering at Michael.
Aimee slumped to the floor at Cassandra’s feet, her fingers slipping free of her grip. Cassandra let her go, trusting her completely. She made a big show of trying to stand up straight, but fell instead over the billiard table and out of the sight of the kidnappers.
“Frank, you stupid little shit, didn’t I tell you I don’t’ like being fucked with?” Arnost said dismissively. “Someone get the dhamphir.”
“That’s my dhamphir and my witch and this is my house,” Frank snarled.
Cassandra lay on the floor, waiting.
“And look who’s in chains,” Arnost snorted. “And who is going to fuck your witch tonight?”
As Frank and Arnost continued to trade insults, Cassandra focused on the approaching footsteps. The man reeked of cigarettes and harsh cologne. Eyes closed, she concentrated on the sound of his footfalls and his growing scent. When he was only a few feet away, she rolled to her feet in a flash, seized the tranquilizer gun in his hands, jerked and twisted it about, liberating it from his hands. He only got out a sharp gasp before she slammed the butt of the weapon into his face, knocking him out.
The popping of dart guns going off filled the air and Cassandra spun away into cover behind an arcade game to avoid the fire. But she needn’t have to. When she peeked out, she saw all the darts suspended in air and the surprised expressions of Arnost’s men.
“My witch is about to kick your ass,” Frank said with confidence.
Slowly, Aimee rose to her feet, her long hair shimmering in the light. “I’m not your witch, Frank. And no one is fucking me tonight,” she said in a low voice. “Or Cass.”
The darts flipped around in the air, aiming at the guards at various points in the room.
“Michael!” Arnost shouted. “Stop her!”
Cassandra sprinted forward, jumped onto the billiard table, then launched herself at Michael just as Aimee released the darts. Some of the guards tried to dive out of the way, others swatted at them futilely with their weapons. Most of the darts appeared to hit their targets and men all over the room fell. Cassandra attempted to kick Michael in the head on her downward arc, but he lashed out, smacking her out of the air and into the wall. She landed hard, but rolled to her feet, lifting the tranquilizer gun. Drawing a bead on Michael, she tried to squeeze off a dart, but he was faster than anticipated and kicked the weapon out of her hand.
For a split second she worried about Aimee, but then a guard went sailing past her, crashed through the sliding glass door, and disappeared into the night. Relieved, Cassandra ducked under Michael’s attack, came up behind him, punched her elbow into his back, and sent him stumbling. Whipping about to finish him off, she was shocked to find him raising his weapon to shoot her.
“It’s been fun,” he said, squeezing the trigger.
The gun flew out of his hand, the dart hitting the wall.
“Thanks, Aimee!” Cassandra called out. “I can handle this asshole from here.”
A roar filled the room as a powerful wind tore through the shattered doorway and became a raging funnel, sucking the weapons from the hands of the attackers.
Grinning, Cassandra punched Michael in the face, knocking him off his feet. Turning to help Aimee, she saw the witch levitated off the ground, arms outstretched within the heart of the small tornado.
“Wow!” she said with admiration.
Then someone hit her from behind and sent her crashing through a window and into the night air.
Chapter 16:
Vampires Versus Witch
The tentacles of Aimee’s power lashed out, doing her will, sending Arnost’s men scrambling. There were a dozen men in the room, all of them infused with Arnost’s blood. Seven were unconscious, but the others were still dangerous. They moved quickly, with preternatural swiftness, trying to encircle her and wrestle her from the air. Their dart guns were somewhere out in the desert now, so they resorted to drawing blades. Though her eyes were closed, Aimee could sense their intent before they even moved. Each time one dared to lash out at her, Aimee sent a wave of magic, knocking them across the room.
“Don’t kill the witch!” Arnost ordered.
Nearby, Cassandra held her own, fighting Michael until he tried to shoot her. Aimee ripped the weapon from his hands and flung it away with her magic. His surprised expression was immensely satisfying.
The witch felt herself weakening, but s
he had used as much power as she dared to disarm their enemies of their dart guns. She and Cassandra couldn’t afford to be hit again. Aimee had barely managed to stay conscious enough to work her magic to extract the sedative. She was rapidly using up her power and would soon need to recharge.
Another window exploded and Aimee barely caught sight of Cassandra vanishing into the darkness outside the house. Michael fearlessly dove through the window after her. It was a two-story fall, but he didn’t seem to care.
“No!” Aimee shouted.
Landing on the floor, she ran toward the window, magically slapping away anyone trying to attack her with waves of energy. Reaching the broken opening, she looked down to see Cassandra and Michael in combat in the garden below.
The sharp bark of actual gunfire startled her. Twisting about, the acrid stench of a fired gun filled her nostrils as it mingled with the scent of blood. Ivan stood over Frank, pistol in hand, shooting at Arnost and his men. Two tried to rush Ivan, but he fired with eerie precision, the back of their heads bursting like melons. Behind Frank, another one of his faithful guards named Glenn was unshackling him.
Aimee shrank back against the window, pondering her options. She had only her spells and the tapestry bag around her neck that she had hidden her most precious possession in. Her power began to wane; she had to conserve it.
As the final echo of the last gunshot fired faded, Ivan reloaded and aimed at Aimee. “You’re done now.”
“Enough of the bullshit, Aimee!” Frank roared at her.
“I’m not staying here!” Aimee shouted at him. “I’m not your slave!” Raising her hand, a ball of energy formed.
Ivan fired, the bullet barely missing her and pounding into the wall behind her. “I’ll shoot you, Aimee.”
“Get over here, Aimee. Now!” Frank ordered impatiently. “Don’t make Ivan shoot you. Not that I’m not opposed to crippling you at this point.”
The room was quiet enough to hear the moans of the wounded men and the firefight on the floor below. Between Aimee’s magic and Ivan’s gun, all of Arnost’s men upstairs were incapacitated or dead. Aimee had lost track of Arnost in the battle and wasn’t sure where he lay in the room.
Pretty When They Collide: A Novella in the Pretty When She Dies Universe (Volume 4) Page 12