by Tina Folsom
“I’m calling HQ,” Zane said.
She was nodding when she heard sounds on the stairs. Charles’s long legs entered her line of sight and she walked toward him as he came down the stairs, meeting him under the door frame.
“Is she okay?”
“Just a little agitated. But Grayson is telling her stories about his siblings and how they made a game of guessing the strength of an earthquake on the Richter scale.” He smiled. “It seems to distract her.”
“Good. Because something isn’t right.”
“What?” Alarm colored Charles’s voice.
She motioned him into the living room, away from the hallway where their voices might carry upstairs.
“We can’t find any evidence of an earthquake.”
“Come again? I felt the earth shake underneath my feet,” Charles said.
“Fuck!” Zane cursed, making Roxanne and Charles whirl their heads toward him. “There was no earthquake. Nowhere in the city. We’re the only ones who felt it.”
Roxanne rubbed her neck, trying to dispel the uncomfortable feeling that was now slithering down her spine. “Then what was this?”
“A warning,” Charles muttered.
She shot him a stunned look. “From the witches of the mark?”
“No, from the ones who want Ilaria dead. And it’s my fault they’ve found us.”
~ ~ ~
Charles felt the cold, hard reality of it crash down on him. He’d known that using his own powers to find the witches of the mark would make it easier for the slayers who’d been hunting him and Ilaria for the better part of two decades to find him. The more of their powers—his and Ilaria’s—they used too closely together, the more of a risk they ran to send out a strong enough magic signature that could be read by other witches. As long as he’d concealed his and Ilaria’s powers and kept moving, the witches who wanted her dead hadn’t been able to get a clear reading on him or his niece. But since Ilaria had started coming into her powers, it had been harder to remain concealed. And tonight, his scrying for the witches of the mark and Ilaria’s fit had caused the pot to boil over and given their enemies enough to sniff them out. The gig was up.
“I used my powers tonight,” he explained to Roxanne, but she wasn’t even listening.
She’d already jumped into action, ripping open a hidden panel in the living room that contained an array of weapons. She and Zane were arming themselves, exchanging short instructions.
“Can you shoot?” Zane barked at Charles, ready to toss him a gun and a magazine.
But Charles lifted his hand in refusal. “I won’t need a gun. Witches are best fought with witchcraft.”
Zane snarled, patting the knife that sat in a holster on his hip. “Even witches die when you stab or shoot ‘em.” He loaded a semi-automatic. “I’ll stick with that.”
Next to him Roxanne looked ready for a fight, too. She held a gun in her gloved hand, and grabbed a few throwing stars and tucked them into her pockets.
She looked at him now. “How will they attack?”
Charles approached her. “You’ll be outnumbered. Judging by the strength of the shaking I’d say there are at least half a dozen of them out there.”
“Backup is already on the way,” Roxanne assured him.
“They won’t be here in time.” By his estimate, the drive from Scanguards’ headquarters was at least twenty minutes, if not longer.
“You let us worry about that,” Zane cut in.
“All we need to do is hold them off until backup gets here,” Roxanne explained and glanced at her colleague. “Grayson can cover the back, you and I will take the front.”
“No!” Charles protested. “Grayson has to stay with Ilaria to keep her calm. Once she realizes we’re being attacked, the evil will try to rise in her. She’ll destroy us all to save herself, and there won’t be anything we can do.”
He noticed Roxanne’s lips trembling, as she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “How is it that you’re still alive?”
“Because up until now I was still stronger than her. But what will happen shortly will put her over the edge. We can’t allow it. If the witches bring the fight inside this house, nobody will be able to stop the evil from rising.”
“Fuck!” Zane cursed. “And everybody wonders why I hate witches. Go figure.”
Ignoring him, Charles shifted his gaze to Roxanne. “We have to lure them away. It won’t be easy, and the ruse will be only temporary. But it might buy us enough time until the cavalry arrives.”
Roxanne’s eyes widened. “What’s your plan?”
“Misdirection.”
9
“Ready?” Charles asked ten minutes later, peeking out through the kitchen window that looked out over the backyard and up the steep slope.
“This is never gonna work,” Roxanne felt compelled to say, even though Charles had explained his plan in detail. He’d also informed Grayson about what to do once Charles, Roxanne, and Zane were outside.
Though Zane hadn’t liked the idea either, he’d voted in favor of it. “Better than being sitting ducks and waiting for them to strike.”
More worried about leaving Ilaria alone than about her own safety, Roxanne looked at Charles, hoping to sway him. “What if they immediately see through it? Ilaria will be defenseless.”
“They won’t.” Charles’s voice inspired confidence, as did the determined look in his eyes. “Have a little faith in my abilities. Don’t you remember what I’m capable of?”
Their gazes locked, and for a few seconds, she remembered the things she’d seen him do before, remembered the power that ran in his veins. “Trust me, love,” he murmured so softly that she wondered if he’d actually said it, or if she’d only imagined it.
“It’s time,” Zane advised. “I can hear them.”
Charles put his palm on the top of Roxanne’s head and closed his eyes. She felt warmth seeping into her, infusing her, changing her. The feeling ran through her veins, spreading like dye through water, until it had reached all her extremities. All of a sudden, she gasped for air. Took in a breath. Exhaled.
Roxanne opened her eyes and stared at Charles.
“Shit,” Zane said in wonder. “You smell like a witch.”
“Quickly,” Charles ordered. “The illusion won’t last long.”
Without making a sound, Charles eased the side door open and slid outside into the dark. Roxanne was on his heels, with Zane bringing up the rear. Hidden by high bushes and the trash cans that lined the narrow walkway, they crept along the side of the house toward the steep incline behind it. They reached the end of the yard without incident.
Zane took the lead, running up the hill. Trees and bushes grew on the slope.
“What if they don’t see us?” Roxanne whispered to Charles as they started climbing side by side.
“They might not have the sensitive hearing of vampires, but they will sense us: two witches and a vampire trying to get away. They’ll take the bait. The question is, how far will we get until they spot us?”
“Not far enough,” Zane hissed and whirled around just as flashes of light illuminated the sky above them.
“Shit!” Roxanne cursed and reached for her gun, spinning around as well.
She saw the witches immediately. While their forms were difficult to ascertain in the dark despite her vampire vision, their auras were unmistakable. Roxanne aimed and fired. The bullet should have hit its target, but the witch she’d aimed at had thrown up her arms and sent a blast of energy in its direction, sending it off course.
“Duck!” Charles screamed, just as Roxanne realized that the bullet hadn’t just veered off course, but was coming straight back at her.
Roxanne felt an impact, however, it wasn’t the bullet that knocked her off her feet but Charles slamming into her side. Together, they rolled down the hill a few yards, until he managed to dig his heels into the ground and stop them from tumbling farther.
Meanwhile shots—subdued by a sile
ncer—fired by Zane from higher up where he was sheltering behind a tree, crackled through the night.
“The entire neighborhood is going to come running,” Roxanne ground out. Innocents would get caught in the battle.
Pulling her with him to hide behind an old tree stump leaning against a boulder, Charles said, “They will have thrown up a sound barrier. A spell to hide what’s happening here. It’s not in their interest to attract attention. All they want is to kill Ilaria.”
They dove behind the boulder, narrowly avoiding a spear of fire one of the witches had aimed at them. Roxanne felt the heat singeing the ends of her hair as it passed over her.
“Nice weapons your friends have,” she hissed.
“Even you must see they’re not my friends,” Charles retorted and shoved her behind him. “Stay down.”
Before she could stop him, he jumped up with outstretched arms and sent a blast of energy toward the witches. An ear-shattering scream sounded through the night. Roxanne jumped up, her gaze darting past Charles’s broad body. The aura of one of the witches lit up like a flame, then extinguished just as quickly. Charles’s blast had incinerated her.
But Roxanne could find no satisfaction in the witch’s death, because one look down at the bottom of the hill confirmed that they were indeed outnumbered. At least six or seven figures were approaching, starting to climb up the slope. And no matter how many bullets Zane fired from high up, his shots kept missing their intended targets. Roxanne did the same, alternately shooting and tossing throwing stars at them. Without any success. As if they were protected by a shield not even Charles seemed to be able to breach.
Steadily, the witches moved closer. Roxanne glanced around. But there was no place to run or hide. They’d gambled and lost. In a few moments, the witches would have them surrounded and pick them off one by one.
“Promise me something, Roxanne,” Charles suddenly murmured next to her.
She whipped her head to look at him, his tone sending a shudder down her spine, when her eyes caught the glare of headlights on the street that wound up to the safe house. She focused her vision. SUVs. Black-out vans.
“They’re here.” She gripped Charles’s shoulder and pointed to the road. He followed her outstretched finger. “Scanguards. They’ll be able to attack them from behind.”
“Only if I can disrupt the shield the witches have erected around themselves. I’m the only one who can pierce it.” All of a sudden, Charles pressed his lips to hers, kissing her fiercely. “Always remember that I love you.” Then he jumped out from behind the boulder and charged forward, his arms spread like wings.
“Nooooooo!” Roxanne screamed. This was suicide. But this time she wouldn’t allow Charles to leave her. This time she’d go with him wherever he went.
A blast of air tossed her on her ass. She scrambled to get up and searched for Charles. He was already facing the enemy, arrows of electrical charges shooting from his fingertips, raining down on the witches and bouncing off their collective shield. Relentlessly he fired at them in an obvious attempt to weaken them, when he finally sank to his knees.
“Noooo!” Roxanne screamed and jumped up. Hoping her witch aura was still intact and knowing that the witches didn’t know what Ilaria looked like, she waved her arms at them. “Come and get me, I’m what you want, you fucking cowards!”
Every eye shot to Roxanne. But she only looked at Charles, who now, even in his weakened state, raised his arms. When tiny sparks appeared on his fingertips, she turned on her heel and ran uphill, knowing it would further distract the witches and lure them in her direction.
“This way,” Roxanne heard Zane call out to her, and she changed direction.
Behind her, screams and shouts mingled with gunshots and what sounded like explosions. When she reached the tree where Zane was hidden, she looked over her shoulder.
From high above the property she had the perfect vantage point. Somehow Charles had managed to break the witches’ protective shield, allowing Scanguards to attack them from behind. The attack took them by surprise. Six witches against more than a dozen vampires. The odds weren’t good for the witches.
“We are the best, aren’t we?” Zane chuckled next to her. “Though I must say, your man down there isn’t too bad either. For a witch, that is.”
Her eyes darted to the spot where she’d last seen Charles. He was gone. Panicked, she jumped up, but immediately felt Zane’s hand on her arm.
“He’s there, to the left. Looking for you.”
She spotted him and practically hurtled down the hill, flying into his arms. “Don’t ever do that again. That was suicide!”
He caught her and pressed her to him. “I’m still alive.” He kissed her hard, then looked over his shoulder to where quiet had suddenly descended. “I have the feeling that Scanguards’ final invoice is going to be much higher than anticipated.”
She pulled his face back to her. “I might be able to negotiate a discount for you.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that gonna cost me?”
“I’m not cheap.”
“Never thought you were.” He kissed her again. Then he took her hand and they walked down the remainder of the hill to where her colleagues were dealing with the bodies of the witches.
She spotted Samson and walked up to him. “How did you manage to get here so fast?”
“We put a team together the moment Haven got off the phone with you,” Samson said. “When he told us the mark on Ilaria was indeed the Mark of Cain, we figured you might need backup.”
Roxanne looked over her shoulder, explaining to Charles, “This is Samson, my boss.”
Charles offered his hand to Samson. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Samson shook Charles’s hand. “Don’t make me regret it.” He glanced around, nodding to Zane, who was joining them now. “You alright?”
“Course,” Zane replied.
Samson craned his neck, peering past Zane. “And Grayson? I don’t see him.” Concern crept into his voice.
“He’s in the house, protecting Ilaria,” Charles said.
“Ilaria? Ahh, shit!” Samson cursed, glaring at Roxanne. “After what Haven told you, you had my son protecting the most dangerous witch in San Francisco? Damn it, Roxanne!”
But Roxanne had no chance to reply, because Samson was already charging into the house. Roxanne ran after him. She caught up with him just as he reached the top of the stairs. Inhaling deeply, he followed his son’s scent and ripped the door to Ilaria’s bedroom open.
“Samson, please, don’t do anything rash!” Roxanne called after him.
Samson froze in the door frame.
Roxanne was there a split second later, peering past his shoulder.
There, in the room lit only by a bedside lamp, Grayson sat in the overstuffed armchair, his gun clutched in one hand, and Ilaria curled up on his lap. Their lips were fused in a passionate kiss, Grayson’s free hand caressing her nape, while Ilaria writhed on his lap, her hands exploring his torso. The mark on her back was at peace.
“Ahem,” Samson finally said.
Ilaria ripped her lips from Grayson’s and shrieked. Grayson instantly raised his gun, but just as quickly, lowered it again.
“It’s just my dad, babe,” he murmured to Ilaria, calmly stroking her back.
“What the—” Charles barreled into the room. “Didn’t I warn you not to—”
Grayson cut him off. “You said to keep her calm.” He exchanged a smirk with Ilaria. “And I think I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”
Ilaria’s face turned bright red.
Grayson grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I rest my case.”
Roxanne couldn’t suppress a smile. It appeared that Grayson was just as much of a charmer as his father when he wanted to be.
~ ~ ~
Charles wanted to wipe the self-satisfied grin off the young hybrid’s face, but one look at Ilaria’s back squashed that notion: Grayson had indeed managed to keep the mark calm by distra
cting Ilaria throughout the battle that had raged outside. And who was he to deny her that small pleasure? After all, she’d never had the chance to flirt with a young man.
“Why don’t we go downstairs, and discuss the situation?” Samson suggested motioning to the hallway. Already halfway out the door, he looked over his shoulder at his son. “And Grayson?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“Behave.”
“Don’t I always?”
Samson rolled his eyes and marched down the corridor to the stairs.
Charles pointed his index finger at the smug young hybrid. “What your father said.” He grunted. “Or you’ll learn first-hand what the wrath of a witch feels like.”
Grayson took his time to answer. “Yes… sir.”
Satisfied, Charles turned and caught Roxanne’s unreadable gaze on him. He ushered her out of the room, and side by side they walked downstairs, where several Scanguards staff members were milling about.
“Haven, how long till all the bodies are loaded?” Samson asked a broad-shouldered vampire stomping into the hallway.
“Give us twenty minutes, and the place will look as normal as ever.”
Nodding to Haven, Samson lifted his hand to Charles and Roxanne in a gesture to join him. “A word.”
“Again, I’m grateful—”
But Charles didn’t get any further, because Samson lit into him. “What the fuck were you thinking, keeping from us what we were supposed to protect?” His eyes started to shimmer, indicating the caged vampire beneath the surface. “You could have gotten all of us killed! And to use my son—”
“Your son seems to have no objections,” Charles protested.
Samson snarled, flashing his fangs. “Because he’s a kid with raging hormones! That doesn’t make it right or safe.”
“Judging by what I saw, he’s no kid.”
Samson went toe to toe with him. “The point is: you lied to us. Ilaria is a danger. To all of us.” He glanced at Roxanne. “Zane filled in HQ, and Haven and I discussed it on the ride here.” He glared back at Charles. “My men will take her into custody until she can safely be transferred to the witches who are capable of handling her. We have underground cells at HQ where she’ll be safe.”