A Vampire Bundle

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A Vampire Bundle Page 59

by Alexandra Ivy


  Good Lord, she looked like she should be flunking algebra class and flirting with the football quarterback, not playing servant to a pack of witches.

  Of course, age was not necessarily an indication of maturity, she reminded herself wryly. By the time she was eighteen, Abby had seen more of life than most women twice her age.

  Pressing her hands together, the girl kept her gaze glued to Abby’s face. It took a moment for Abby to realize that Dante was probably the first vampire the girl had ever encountered.

  Or at least the first vampire she knew was a vampire.

  “The mistress requested that I bring you refreshments,” she at last managed to stammer.

  In spite of herself, Abby felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Whatever her reason for joining with the witches, it was clear she was not happy. It was etched in the tension of her too-thin body.

  “Thank you,” Abby said softly. “It was very kind of you.”

  Something that might have been surprise flickered through the dark eyes before she was offering a tentative smile and turning toward the door.

  Before Abby even realized what was happening, Dante was suddenly standing before the girl. Abby’s lips parted to protest. The last thing they needed was a newbie witch having hysterics in the drawing room.

  Astonishingly, however, the woman didn’t scream in horror. She didn’t even squeak.

  Instead her features became slack and her eyes glazed as if she had taken a blow to the head.

  “Do you not want to stay?” Dante breathed so softly that Abby barely heard his words.

  “I . . . there is much to be done . . . I must . . .” the girl began to stutter.

  Dante pointed a hand at a nearby chair. “Sit.”

  With jerky motions, she sat.

  Abby caught her breath and stepped forward. “Dante? What did you do?”

  He crouched before the chair, his gaze never leaving the witch. “She is young and not yet trained to avoid being enthralled.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “For the moment she is in my power.”

  Abby studied the woman, who was pleasantly lost in her catatonic state, as a cold chill inched down her spine.

  “Holy crap.”

  “I did tell you that I could do this.”

  She swallowed heavily. “Knowing you can do it and actually seeing it done are two entirely different things.”

  “And now you are afraid?”

  She took a long moment before giving a shake of her head. She could sense the truth written on his heart.

  “No.”

  “Good.” His lips curled into a wicked smile. “I would never enthrall you, lover. I don’t want a mindless toy; I want you. No matter how stubborn or ill-tempered you can be at times.”

  She couldn’t halt her own smile. “You always say the nicest things.”

  Slowly he turned his attention back to the silent girl in the chair.

  “Tell me your name,” he demanded. His tone was low and flowing. A golden voice that seemed to shimmer in the air.

  The girl leaned forward with an eager need to please the man holding her so easily captive.

  “Kristy.”

  “Kristy, how long have you been with the coven?”

  “Not long.” Her brow wrinkled as if she feared she might disappoint the vampire. “Just a few weeks.”

  Dante’s gaze remained firmly locked with the witch. “You know of the Phoenix?”

  “Of course. It is the reason the coven exists. It is the salvation of us all.”

  Dante arched a brow. “Salvation?”

  A fervent glow touched the young face. “With the beloved Goddess, we will bring an end to the darkness. The light will shine for an eternity.”

  Abby crept closer. She didn’t understand what the girl was babbling about. Eternal light, banish the darkness, yadda yadda.

  But she did sense Dante’s sudden tension. And that was enough to send up the proverbial red flag.

  Ignoring Abby’s approach, Dante leaned until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the witch.

  “How will you bring an end to the darkness?”

  “There is a spell. A spell to bring an end to the demon world forever.”

  “It must be very powerful.”

  “Yes.” The girl gave a shudder. “Only the most talented witch can hope to perform the ritual. It killed . . . the last one to try.”

  “Who was the last one to try, Kristy?” Dante’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair. “Was it Selena who attempted to cast the spell?”

  “I . . .”

  “And that’s what killed her?” His voice held a lethal edge.

  Abby’s breath caught. Her thoughts flashed back to Selena’s broken body and then leaped to the spell books that they had discovered in the mansion.

  Damn. She had opened the safe and revealed them. God, she had even attempted to use them.

  Now they were gone. If something bad was going to happen, it would be her fault.

  A distressed expression rippled over the youthful face. “I . . . I am not to say her name. She betrayed the coven and was punished as she should have been. The mistress forbade us to speak of her.”

  “Sssh. All is well.” Dante eased the girl’s worry. “Is Edra planning to attempt the spell?”

  The girl’s expression cleared in relief. A question she could answer.

  “Yes, she will use the Phoenix to battle the dark lord and bring an end to demons.”

  The tension in Dante became almost painful. “What demons?”

  “All demons.” The witch smiled with a near-sickening joy. “At last the world will be pure.”

  Abby frowned, rubbing her arms as Dante’s flare of fury charged through her.

  “Bloody hell,” he breathed.

  With a jerky motion the witch rose to her feet. Something that might have been pain twisted her lips.

  “She calls me. I must go.”

  Smoothly Dante was on his feet, his hands framing her face. “Kristy, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

  Even Abby shivered as his power pulsed through the air.

  “The blood has been tainted with silver,” the witch whispered.

  Abby gasped but Dante merely nodded his head. It was precisely what he had suspected.

  “You will go to Edra. You will not remember speaking with me. You brought the tray into the room and left. Do you understand?” he murmured.

  “I brought the tray in and left,” she parroted.

  “Very good.” Dante stepped back. “Now go.”

  The witch was walking woodenly from the room. With a shake of her head, Abby held out a hand.

  Good God, there were so many questions that had to be answered. She had to know what was going on.

  “Wait . . .”

  Dante grasped her shoulder and kept her from running after the disappearing form.

  “Let her go, lover. Edra will become suspicious if she does not answer her summons.”

  Abby whirled to meet his steady gaze. “What did she mean?”

  “Wholesale slaughter,” he rasped. “I didn’t think even Edra could be quite so bloodthirsty.”

  “Could the witches really kill all the demons?”

  “They seem to think so.”

  Abby struggled to breathe. She couldn’t count how many times she had been terrified out of her mind over the past few days. How many times she thought some nasty creature might rip her limb from limb. But as horrible as it had been, she had discovered that not all demons were monsters.

  My God, Dante was a demon. And Viper. And the beautiful fairies. And Troy, the ridiculous Prince of Imps. And the Shalott who was tortured rather than handing her over to the witches.

  She would do whatever necessary to put a halt to the genocide.

  “Shit. We have to stop her,” she muttered without a clue as to how to accomplish such a lofty goal.

  Half-expecting Dante to charge from the room like a raging madman, she was
startled when he merely regarded her with a searching gaze.

  “Is that what you want? To stop her?”

  “What?”

  His fingers touched her cheek. “Abby, if we battle Edra, you might never be able to rid yourself of the Phoenix.”

  Her eyes widened at the low words. “You think I would sacrifice you? For any reason?”

  He gave an elegant lift of his shoulder. “To rid the world of evil? That seems a rather noble goal.”

  She stepped toward him and grasped the front of his silk shirt in an angry grasp.

  If she could have, she would have given him a good shake. As it was, all she could do was wrinkle the beautiful material.

  “Evil doesn’t belong to demons, Dante. Humans are just as capable of sin as any creature.”

  The silver gaze never wavered. “Most would consider us monsters.”

  “No. Not all demons are monsters—no more than all humans are saints.” She gave a faint shudder. “Besides, I would never agree to such a massacre. No matter how good the intention, it would be wrong. Evil.”

  There was a beat as if he was seeking to determine the depths of her determination. At last he gave a short nod.

  “We need to get out of here.”

  Abby breathed a husky sigh. “Thank God.”

  Shifting to take her hand, Dante headed for the door only to come to an abrupt halt.

  “Damn.” He tugged her back toward the center of the room, not halting until they reached the low table that held the untouched tray.

  “What is it?”

  “Someone is approaching.”

  Her heart lodged in her throat as she watched him pick up the poisoned glass of blood.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Allowing Edra to believe she has been rid of one enemy.” Moving so swiftly he was impossible to follow, he dumped the blood out the window and returned to her side. Then, startlingly, he stretched out on the bare floor. “If the witches believe me dead, then I will have a better way of seeking a means of escape.”

  Abby bit her lip. She didn’t like this plan. Not when it might mean she would be separated from Dante.

  “But won’t Edra know?” she demanded.

  He gave an arch of his brow. “That I’m not dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Abby, I am dead.”

  “Oh.” She grimaced.

  His beautiful features smoothed to somber lines. “Be careful, lover. I will get us out of here as swiftly as I can.”

  The footsteps were now close enough to be heard by her human ears.

  “Make it very swiftly,” she whispered.

  Dante fell deep within himself. Unlike most humans, the ancient witch would need more than an unmoving corpse to convince her that he was dead.

  Thankfully vampires could retreat far enough within themselves that only another vampire could sense the spark of life.

  No spells or hocus-pocus would reveal the truth.

  Reaching out with his senses, he monitored the steady approach of Edra and the feel of Abby as she bent beside him and touched his face. He could smell the sweet heat of her skin and beneath that the sharp scent of fear.

  He battled every instinct not to reach out with his mind to comfort her. Even the smallest whiff of power would alert the witch.

  The footsteps crossed the room, and Dante detected the scent of iron in the air. Odd. The woman must be carrying an amulet. And not the traditional wooden amulet.

  This one was hard and dark and carried with it a feel of black shadows.

  “My lady, is something wrong?” Edra cooed with false sympathy.

  “Dear God, something has happened to Dante.” There was no mistaking the fear in Abby’s voice. Whether out of terror of being left to the clutches of the witch or because he did indeed appear remarkably dead was impossible to say. “You must help.”

  “Of course, I will call for a healer. Come with me.”

  Abby’s hand tightened on his cheek. “I can’t leave him here.”

  “You have a talent for treating the undead?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then we must seek out someone who does.”

  Her command was perfectly reasonable, and Dante felt Abby slowly rise to her feet.

  “Very well.”

  It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from leaping to his feet and halting Abby from her slow retreat.

  He didn’t want her to leave his side. To risk being alone with Edra.

  But what choice did they have?

  He couldn’t directly attack the witch. Not as long as he remained bound to the Phoenix. And Abby was still fumbling to learn the powers she possessed.

  All he could do was allow the coven to believe he was no longer a threat and wait for an opportunity to rescue Abby from their clutches.

  After that . . . well.

  He would deal with “after that” when it came along.

  Forcing himself to wait and ensure that no one else was about to enter the room, Dante was distracted by the faint tap on the window.

  Warily he allowed his senses to reach out. His lips twitched as he flowed to his feet and crossed the room to regard the vampire standing just outside.

  “Viper.”

  “Napping on the job?” the silver-haired vampire demanded as he slipped through the open window.

  Dante raised his brows in surprise as Viper smoothed his velvet coat and adjusted the ruffles of his cuffs.

  “How did you come in?”

  A sly smile touched the too-beautiful features. Reaching beneath his shirt, he pulled out a small leather bag that was attached by a leather strap about his neck.

  “A gift from a voodoo priestess.”

  Dante frowned. “What’s in it?”

  “A variety of nasty bits and pieces that are used to animate the dead,” he drawled, a cynical smile tugging at his lips. “It allows me to pass as a living being.”

  A handy little object, Dante acknowledged. And precisely the sort of trinket that Viper would collect. He watched as Viper tucked the bag beneath his shirt. His brows abruptly snapped together.

  “Bloody hell, what happened to you?” Dante demanded as he studied the charred burns on the smooth flesh.

  With a flick of his hands, the older vampire closed his shirt to hide the marks.

  “The dark wizard and I had a mild disagreement.”

  “What sort of disagreement?”

  “I thought he should be dead and he disagreed.”

  Dante smiled wryly. There was little use in lecturing Viper in taking such risks. Once he was on the hunt, nothing could halt him.

  “I presume you convinced him to your way of thinking?”

  “Eventually.” A flare of annoyance rippled over the pale features. “I was careless. His power was greater than I expected.”

  So the dark wizard was gone. One less problem to deal with.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Viper’s presence suddenly seemed to fill the room. Even the candles dimmed.

  “Before I ripped out his throat, the wizard swore that the witches intended to banish us all to the depths of hell. I decided that I wasn’t ready to go yet.”

  Dante clapped a hand on Viper’s shoulder. There was no need for words. They would hunt together as they had centuries before.

  Few things could have given him more hope.

  “The witches have Abby,” he said.

  “Where?”

  Dante took a moment to reach out to his mate. “Below us. A cellar.”

  Viper gave a slow nod. “Can you fight?”

  “I can’t harm the witches who were part of the spell binding me to the Phoenix. The newer witches should prove no problem.”

  Viper smiled to reveal his fangs. “Leave them to me.”

  “There is also a demon,” he warned. “We’ll need to make sure it isn’t planning a nasty surprise.”

  Viper tilted back his head to deeply sniff the air. The silver eyes widen
ed in shock.

  “A Shalott. So, they haven’t all vanished. How very intriguing.”

  Dante grimaced at the fevered glitter in the midnight eyes. Shalott blood was rumored to be an aphrodisiac to vampires. Which no doubt explained why they had chosen to leave with the dark lord. Without his protection, they would be hunted to extinction by vampires.

  “You take care of Edra; I will see to the demon,” Dante said sternly.

  “Why, Dante, don’t tell me you’ve been seduced by the creature?” Viper mocked. “Whatever will Abby say?”

  “She wants the demon spared.”

  Viper stilled. “Why?”

  “Because she could have killed us and didn’t.”

  “Humans.” Viper gave a shake of his head even as an unreadable emotion darkened his eyes. “So weak.”

  Squaring his shoulders, Dante glanced toward the door.

  “Are you up for this?”

  Viper moved to stand at his side.

  “What’s the plan?”

  Chapter 24

  Abby bit her bottom lip as the hair on the nape of her neck stirred and her palms began to sweat.

  It was the same sensation she had experienced when she had been five and had entered a carnival’s haunted house and spent nearly two hours huddled in a dark corner, too afraid to move so she could bolt for the door.

  She hadn’t known why she was frightened. She had only known that she sensed something out in the darkness waiting to devour her.

  Of course, with the wisdom of age, it was simple to look back and realize her fear had been caused by a combination of overstimulation, the smothering darkness, and being abandoned in the house by her mother.

  Still, the sense of being devoured had been very real.

  Just as it was at this moment.

  Grimly squaring her shoulders, Abby allowed herself to be led through the dark, empty rooms until the elderly witch at last paused to open a door and began to climb down the narrow stairs.

  She was no longer a child.

  She didn’t huddle in corners.

  She fought back with a vengeance.

  Well . . . maybe not a vengeance. More of a combination of bumbling, fumbling, and flaying.

  But she would never again be a willing victim.

  A musty smell of damp earth and mold rolled over Abby as they reached the bottom of the steps. She hesitated as the utter darkness momentarily blinded her.

 

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