BloodPledge

by Tima Maria Lacoba

  We leant our heads together and stood like that for a while as I peered through the dim lighting to the row of buildings ahead. Please come out Alec. I prayed Luc and Marcus would reach him in time.

  Jenny patted my hand. ‘They’ll get him out, hon.’

  We stood and waited.

  Chapter 39 - Close Call

  ALEC

  Stockton raised my sword above his head. With every ounce of strength I had left, I overturned the chair as the sword swished through the air. I crashed to the ground. My shoulder and head connected with the concrete. Blood trickled into my eye. I lay there panting, drained, knowing he’d strike again immediately.

  Stockton swore.

  There was nothing else I could do as the chains held me to the chair. I sensed Marcus, Luc and Sam somewhere nearby. Did I have the strength to groan for help? Stockton loomed over me, sword raised. Helpless, I waited for the blade to descend. Suddenly, his head swivelled toward the door. He must have sensed them also, for he snarled and turned back to me, indecision creasing his face.

  The door flew open. Marcus entered, growled, and in a blink Stockton’s head flew from his shoulders. The sword clattered to the floor.

  Marcus sprinted to my side, nostrils flaring as he assessed my wounds. ‘Deus!’

  I tried to speak. ‘Be, all, right. Serum’s working.’

  He ripped the chains that bound me, righted the chair and sat me back in it. I sagged into it, my head dropping onto the back of the backrest.

  ‘I’ll finish this business and we’ll get you out of here.’ He picked up Stockton’s head and placed it on the table, out of reach of the grasping hands, afterward removing the wolf’s-head ring from his finger. He plunged the spike into the Rebel leader’s thrashing body. In seconds, all that remained was crystalline dust. Stockton’s clothes collapsed into the space left by his now-disintegrating body. Marcus stabbed Stockton’s head with the ring, and then spat on the remains. The wolf’s head ring he slid onto his little finger.

  ‘Take the phone,’ I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘Don’t... destroy it. Blood vault ... Rasputin knows.’

  His eyes flared as he gazed at me, and I knew what sped through his mind.

  My speech was frustratingly slow. ‘No, I didn’t tell them. Donsangs saw the men. He worked it out ... knew the blood couldn’t come from Judith or Laura. Got Stockton to ring Timur. Took my key.’

  ‘I don’t doubt you. Rasputin is a dangerous snake.’ Marcus searched Stockton’s clothes, found the mobile and pocketed it. ‘Come, my boy.’ He draped my arm around his shoulders as he levered me up, supporting my weight. My legs dragged on the ground as we exited into a narrow corridor.

  ‘Where’s Luc?’

  ‘With Sempronius, making sure no Rebels are left alive.’

  Marcus half-carried me down a corridor, which turned right into another and ended at a set of closed double doors. He kicked them open. The smell of cordite permeated the empty space – the room may once have been used to store ammunition. To our left, a set of half-rusted stairs led upwards, hanging precariously from equally rusted brackets.

  Luc’s head peered down at us. ‘You look like shit.’

  I croaked a laugh, ‘Least ... not dead.’

  He jumped down, took my other arm and draped it around his shoulders. ‘Heard what you told Marcus. Merde. My fault. I took a risk sharing the Ingenii blood this year. I hoped nobody would ask questions.’

  ‘Get Sempronius to hack into Timur’s mobile – stop that message getting through,’ Marcus suggested.

  ‘Soon as we get back to the boat.’

  Supporting me between them, they vaulted up the stairs. We emerged inside a low-roofed, corrugated-iron building I didn’t recognize. Hanging upside down, semi-conscious from Stockton’s back hadn’t helped my orientation, either.

  We stepped through the door at the other end of the room. Fresh sea air stung my face, and I took a deep gulp. Slowly, strength began seeping back into my legs and I was able to shuffle along.

  Sam appeared, wet, his coat hung over one shoulder. His eyes flared on seeing me, then his gaze shifted to Marcus.

  ‘Stockton paid.’

  Sam swore. ‘Wish I could say the same about Rasputin. He got away. Nearly had him before he slipped through a hole. Went after him and lost his scent.’

  Marcus handed him Stockton’s mobile. ‘Can you stop a message reaching Timur?’

  ‘What’s on it?’

  ‘Bloodvault,’ Marcus answered.

  Sam inhaled sharply. ‘How the hell?’

  ‘Someone saw you.’

  Sam frowned, ‘But all the Brethren know every year....’ He stopped and gritted his teeth. ‘Shit. I didn’t think of that. Laura’s off limits, so where else would Ingenii blood come from unless Luc bottled the stuff.’

  ‘Get back to the boat and see what you can do.’

  With a nod, Sam sped off.

  ‘How long before you’re fit?’ Luc asked me.

  ‘Not sure. Give me an hour.’

  We followed the path toward the jetty, the lights from the yacht illuminating our way. I spied Laura at the railing, scanning the distance before her, her beautiful eyes wide with concern. She alone gave me the strength to move my weakened body. I couldn’t wait to wrap her in my arms.

  Chapter 40 - All Better

  LAURA

  ‘Here they come,’ Kari said.

  Soon, forms appeared – three of them. As they neared, I recognized Alec’s bowed figure supported by the other two.

  My heart lurched. Someone sprinted ahead and rushed past me – Sam.

  Ignoring Judy’s protest, I ran down the stairs to the main deck and onto the rickety jetty. It swayed as I dashed to his side. Luc and Marcus half carried him onto the wharf.

  ‘Alec!’

  He raised his head, and I gasped. He was pale. There was blood on his face and neck, and his lower lip was swollen as if he’d been struck there. A light sheen of perspiration glistened on his skin, and his shirt had been ripped open, revealing dark red scratch lines across his chest and neck.

  I touched them tenderly, and raised my eyes in question.

  ‘Wolf’s-head ring.’ His voice was barely above a whisper.

  Tears of anger stung my eyes. ‘They tried to kill you!’

  ‘They failed.’ He gave me a weak smile. ‘Serum worked.’

  I took his face between my hands and kissed him. ‘Let me,’ I took his arm from Marcus and placed it around my shoulders. ‘Rasputin?’

  ‘Got away,’ Luc replied.

  ‘Sam chased him through a maze of corridors and lost his scent. Must be a passage that leads straight to the water,’ Marcus said. ‘Deus. We were so close.’

  ‘Why do the bad guys always get away?’

  ‘Not all,’ Luc answered as we shuffled back to the boat. ‘Stockton and the other Rebels are dead.’

  After we lay Alec down on one of the sofas in the stateroom, the others left us alone. I bit back tears of anger as I examined his injuries. Bastards! I rarely swore, but to see the way they had made him suffer was enough for me to want to utter every obscenity I knew.

  He didn’t speak, only winced, as, with a wet cloth, I gently dabbed at the dried blood that stained his lip, forehead and neck. I followed it with a kiss. His gaze remained on me as I cleaned the rest of his face then kissed each pale cheek, his eyes and brow, his chin, his throat and lastly his mouth again, as if by doing so I could erase the pain he’d undergone. ‘I love you,’ I murmured against his lips.

  Alec’s hand slid into my hair, and he twirled the strands around his finger. ‘Thoughts of you gave me the strength I needed.’ His other hand cupped the side of my face. I turned my head and kissed the inside of his palm.

  The boat shuddered as the engines started and we moved away from the wharf. I could hear everyone talking in the wheelhouse and silently prayed Terens, Cal and Jake had caught up with the other Rebels. I didn’t want to imagine the consequence
s if they found the bloodvault. Yet how would they get in without the keys?

  I lowered his hands from my face and laved his chest with the wet cloth next, kissing each angry gash. Alec sighed, but my mouth went dry. His gold chain was missing.

  ‘Your chain with the bloodvault key.’

  ‘Rasputin’s got it – for now.’

  I gasped, and a cold wave ran through me.

  ‘I will get it back.’ Steely resolve appeared in his eyes.

  ‘But doesn’t it—’

  ‘No, it takes two keys to unlock the vault. The third was an extra in case one was lost. He can’t use it to get in even if he were to find it – which I doubt.’ He coughed. I’d never heard him cough before, and it scared me.

  ‘Shhhh, don’t talk. Rest and get your strength back.’

  He closed his eyes and I sat watching his breathing. Although I trusted Alec’s serum, I clutched his hand and brought it to my cheek as if that would prevent the dreaded crystallisation.

  Five or ten minutes later, his chest rose as he took a deep breath, opened his eyes and looked at me. ‘My strength’s coming back.’ Even his voice sounded stronger, and the ugly, red marks on his chest and neck had faded.

  He tried to rise, but I placed a hand on his shoulder and urged him to stay down. ‘No, lie still. Give it time.’

  ‘We don’t have time. When Timur sees that message....’ He closed his eyes. ‘He’s holed up in his castle outside Budapest, and it’s still day there, but sunset’s not far off. We’ve got to intercept that message before he rises.’

  ‘What message?’

  He explained and my hand flew to my mouth. ‘Does Luc know?’

  He nodded and lay still for another few minutes. Suddenly he opened his eyes and turned his head to gaze at me, squeezing my hand. ‘I never tire of looking at you.’ He unlocked our hands, clasped the back of my head and kissed me—long, hungry and with passion that left me quivering.

  ‘Feeling better?’ I smiled at him.

  Alec smiled, nipped me lightly on the lips and said, ‘Yes. Help me up.’

  I held his arm, which trembled slightly. He sat up and flexed them both. ‘Much better.’ Another deep breath. He stood and caught me up in his arms. ‘I feel good.’

  Was it his kiss or the adrenaline of nearly having lost him that had me wanting him? Well, now wasn’t the time. ‘Perfect. Now tell me everything that happened, and don’t leave out one detail. I was going crazy and even got Kari to teach me how to use this.’ I tapped the sword at my side.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I noticed.’

  ‘Don’t even think of objecting.’

  I was ready to launch into my speech, when he said, ‘It’s a good idea. Should have thought of it sooner. I’ll give you some extra lessons later.’ I was speechless, and he took advantage of it by kissing me again.

  ‘Talk now, kiss later,’ I said.

  He chuckled and sat on the sofa with me on his lap. ‘Okay, I was led into a trap. Rasputin was waiting with too many for me to fight off. They’d been hiding out at that old navy training base and took me back there to interrogate.’

  That explained the scratches on his chest. ‘But using white-oak....’

  ‘That’s why. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dust, so they kept trying.’ He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. ‘Rasputin realized we must have another source of blood when our guys were out in the daytime. He knew we couldn’t use your blood or Judith’s.’

  Just then I heard what sounded like cheering from Kari, up in the wheelhouse. ‘I knew the guys’d get ‘em. Does that mean the rebellion’s over?’ she said.

  ‘Is Kari right about the rebellion being over?’ I asked.

  Alec looked at me dumbfounded. ‘How did you hear that?’

  ‘I haven’t told you about that development.’

  His brow furrowed as I explained my increased vision and hearing, and for a while he said nothing. ‘Mmmm. Let me know if there are any other changes.’

  ‘Like a craving for blood perhaps?’ Oh lord, I hope not.

  ‘Exactly.’ He gazed at me as if expecting a set of fangs to erupt from my mouth at any moment.

  I suddenly remembered. ‘There’s something else you need to know.’ I leapt off his lap and went over to the coffee table. It was still there, open at the page Matt had shown me. ‘Look at this.’ I handed him the newspaper with Jean-Philippe’s portrait of me.

  A muscle in Alec’s jaw ticked as he perused the article. ‘Holy mother of....’

  ‘Matt came here to show it to me, and warn me that there might be an investigation. He also said more bodies were turning up; that you’d lost control and ... he was going to bring you in.’

  This time both his eyebrows shot upwards. When I told him the rest, he rose and paced. All sign of weakness was gone. ‘That portrait poses more of a problem than Sommers does.’ He dug his hands into his pockets and gazed out the window.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘How to get hold of that portrait and hide it.’

  ‘That’d be one solution. But what’s the point of stressing over something that mightn’t eventuate?’

  He took my fingers and brought them to his lips. ‘True, but we still need to be prepared.’

  ‘And the rebellion?’

  ‘It may be finished here, with Stockton dead, but with Timur we could be facing something worse.’

  ‘What could be worse?’

  He let out a breath. ‘It was one thing for Luc to share Ingenii blood once a year with his men, but to have a store of it spanning centuries for all to share.’ He paused, ‘Timur could use it to turn our allies against us.’

  I thought of Karl and Milena, O’Toole and the other prefects. Would they turn against the Principate for this? The thought frightened me. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  ‘If we could tell them the blood was only for emergencies?’

  ‘There’ve been two rebellions prior to this, Laura. Each would’ve been considered an emergency at the time. Yet the stored blood was not used. How to explain that?’

  ‘It all depends on what you call an emergency. I’d say the ending of the Ingenii and the threat it brings to the Principate qualifies.’

  ‘I agree. But would others?’

  ‘If their homes and lives were threatened, and the Principate was the only thing that stood between them and destruction? I think they would. And if the stored Ingenii blood gave their protectors the edge, do you think they’d object?’

  ‘You should’ve been a diplomat, Miss Dantonville.’

  ‘I’m a primary school teacher – same thing.’

  Alec chuckled and drew me into his arms again. ‘I believe you’d persuade them, too.’

  ‘What about Rasputin?’

  ‘He’s finished, here at least. The Rebels are dead and he’s temporarily disabled, thanks to you.’ He kissed me on the nose. ‘And he’s alone and hunted – there’s a price on his head. My guess is, he’ll try to get out of the country. But it’ll take him days before he sets foot in Europe, in the meantime we might be able to intercept that message and stop it reaching Timur.’

  His gaze bored into mine, and in his eyes I saw strength, confidence and determination, and whatever doubts I had harboured, dissipated like mist on an autumn morning. My heart soared and I hugged his neck.

  ‘We’ve won, darling. The Principate has survived the first hurdle, and we’re sure to win.’

  For now, that was all that mattered. Whatever was happening among the Brethren in the rest of the world seemed far away. Here, at least, the rebellion had been defeated. Hurdle number two would come soon enough, but not today. Today was good, my family was safe, and the man I loved was secure in my arms. As for tomorrow? What did Scarlet O’Hara say about leaving things for another day?

  Sensible idea.

  Epilogue

  Rasputin’s head broke the surface of the water, his piercing gaze levelled at the dep
arting Principate yacht. Stockton had failed him. The princeps was still alive and, no doubt, wearing the serpent ring – the priceless gift he’d promised to deliver to his master, Timur. And here he was, handless and helpless – thanks to that little bitch – and hunted.

  Rage seethed through him. She would pay. Oh yes, she would suffer. He would see to it. He smiled and licked the salt from his lips. But that pleasure would have to wait. His sire, Timur, had ordered his return. At least he could offer the knowledge of Lebrettan’s secret blood stash to deflect some of his master’s wrath.

  Rasputin scanned the horizon. A water taxi seemed to be headed his way. No passengers, one skipper – perfect. He submerged and waited till it came within range, launching himself from the water and onto the deck.

  ‘What the hell?’

  The man stilled as Rasputin’s gaze bored into his mind and fastened on a weakness. ‘My boat sank, and I need to get to the airport. I’ll pay you triple to take me there.’

  The man grinned, steered the boat around and made straight for the coast, expertly negotiating the waves as he exited the harbour and motored down the coast to the next bay.

  Rasputin sat in the stern, watching the pulse throb in the man’s neck, smelt the blood beneath his skin, and his hunger grew. He swallowed saliva and covered his mouth with a sleeve as the tips of his incisors protruded from his upper lip.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Some people collected coins or stamps; Rasputin collected the names of those he killed.

  ‘Stavros.’

  Greek. On the dashboard sat an icon of the virgin and photo of a woman with four children. A rosary dangled from a hook next to them. Rasputin remembered a similar icon. Matuschka used to pray before it.

  ‘You a good son of Holy Mother Church?’

  ‘Of course.’ The man angled his head toward his passenger. ‘Are you Orthodox?’

  Images paraded through Rasputin’s head – ones he’d rather forget. ‘I was a priest once.’ He watched with interest as the man’s head swivelled around to get a better look. Should he drop his sleeve and reveal what lay beneath?