by Ally Shields
“Get rid of him,” Andreas ordered. “Make this his last sunrise.”
Victor didn’t resist as they hustled him out. The fight was gone; his face was blank once again.
“What’s that mean, his last sunrise?” Ari asked.
“Have you seen a vampire execution?”
She nodded. Andreas didn’t need to tell her any more. The condemned vampire had burst into flames as soon as sunlight touched his body. It was a quick but painful way to go.
“You are hurt,” he suddenly said.
Ari looked at her arm. She hadn’t noticed the blood dripping on the floor. “Yeah, sorry about the mess.” She grabbed a shirt from the clothes strewn on the floor and dabbed at the wounds. “Guess I could use a bandage.”
Someone found a first aid kit. Andreas cleaned and wrapped her arm. The blood was starting to clot and the gashes smarted, sure signs of healing.
“Was Victor the one you suspected?” Ari asked as he put the extra supplies back in the box.
His hands paused. “Yes. I regret not telling you. If I had thought…” He closed the first aid box with a snap. “After the failed raid, I hired a private firm to investigate my staff, including the four men who were with me. The background reports arrived last Monday, and Victor’s revealed he was born in Canada. That did not mean he had been a vampire in Canada or knew Sebastian, but it raised concerns. Since he came to us four years ago from South Carolina, we had no prior suspicion of any Canadian ties.” Andreas’s mouth formed a thin line. “He hid his ambitions well.”
“Four years is a long time to plan a coup.”
“Not in the life of a vampire.”
Well, damn. Ari kept forgetting their unique point of view. Vampires were bound to see time on a much bigger clock.
“So that’s all you had on him? That he was born in Canada?” No wonder Andreas had hesitated to share his suspicions.
“That, and an uneasy feeling. Now I see other small hints that didn’t mean much at the time. Like his failure to tell you Angela’s companion was a werewolf.”
“Yeah, I remember that one.”
“And his antipathy toward you. His frequent reminders you were a witch, an enemy to vampires, and already involved in two vampire deaths. It was Victor who reported he saw you with Marcus. He said much to poison my opinion of you.” Andreas’s eyes held regret. “I should not have listened.”
“You didn’t know me then.”
“A poor excuse.” Andreas set the first aid kit on his desk. “Victor must have warned the wolves of the raid.”
“Then he tried to talk Ryan out of searching the house. Afraid Gordon or Marcus would expose him.” Ari suddenly put together one of the elusive pieces that had nagged her for days. The tattooed guy from Toronto—she’d seen him talking with Victor in a bar one night. “I think we all missed a lot.”
Andreas grimaced. “Including his befriending of Frederick. I wonder if Victor intended from the beginning to have him murdered. Ironic, is it not? Betrayed by one of our own.”
“Why’d he attack me? And why tonight? I thought he was on a buying trip.”
“I thought so too. The trip was a way to keep him busy while we explored his Canadian activities. He must have figured that out, realized he was about to be exposed, and moved his plans forward.” Andreas’s gaze sought hers. “Removing you was his next step.”
Ari shivered, not so much from his words as from the raw emotion in his eyes. She broke the contact and began gathering the clothes scattered around the room. He watched for a moment before gliding forward. Taking the items from her hands, he tossed them on the couch, and his hands settled on her shoulders. An instant spark of awareness brought her gaze to meet his.
Andreas slid a hand down to touch her injured arm. “I am sorry I was not here to prevent this. I received a message to meet Daron, and I went, thinking Victor was out of town.”
Andreas’s eyes darkened, and Ari’s skin tingled where his hands touched her. Her witch magic hummed with pleasure. Magic or pure attraction, it was heady stuff.
“The minute Daron told me the message was a fake, I knew you were in danger. I called. When you didn’t answer, I feared I was too late.” He moved closer, both hands sliding to her elbows. “It was not a good moment.”
Ari breathed in the masculine, musky scent of him, the allure of his cologne. She titled her head upward in invitation, and Andreas’s mouth closed over hers. Gentle at first, the kiss became deeper and possessive as he pulled her into his arms, pressing their bodies together. Ari let the kiss take her under, full and sweet, a delicious moment. As she teetered on the brink of drowning in sensation, he drew back and gently, but firmly, set her away.
Ari stared at him, pulse pounding. Andreas had been like the forbidden apple, tempting but beyond possibility. Now he’d changed the rules of this game they’d been playing, and she wasn’t sure how to react.
“It is late, and regretfully, this is not the time,” he said. He retreated across the room, putting distance between them.
Why not? Ari wanted to demand. What better time? But something kept her from saying the words. Something that knew he was right.
She watched as he closed the open trap door. Victor’s point of entry. He shoved the file cabinet against the closet door. “Secure locks will be added tomorrow,” he muttered. Still not looking at her, he picked up the splintered door and examined the damage, as if the last five minutes had never happened. But a warm pulse lingered on her lips.
As Ari watched his dark head bend over the door, silent amusement bubbled in her throat. The ever-so-cool Mr. De Luca was acting as if he didn’t trust himself. Probably a good thing, she thought. Deep inside, she was feeling very smug.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ari threw off the covers. The clock on Andreas’s desk read 6:30. Why hadn’t someone woken her? Barefoot, she padded to the desk, switched on a lamp, and saw the note sticking under the door. It was written in a strong masculine hand. Andreas and the other members of the vampire court were holding an emergency meeting and would be staying at the compound. He suggested she sleep late and take the tunnel. It was signed with a simple A.
Ari’s lips curved. A vampire sleepover. Lucien and Carmella and all the gang. Then it occurred to her what a bad idea that was. She grabbed her clothes, weapons, and pouch of spells and powders, searching under the sofa for a missing shoe. What were the vampires thinking? You don’t put all your big guns under one roof. Not when you anticipated an attack. What kind of strategy was that?
She continued to mumble to herself while tying her sneakers, barely noticing her arm had healed to thin white stripes. Another Guardian ability she took for granted.
“They’re arrogant,” she grumbled, bouncing to her feet. “That’s what it is.” But Ari knew the real problem was the vampires were solitary hunters. Troop strategy was foreign to them. And the wolves would be watching for a mistake just like this. She raced out the door, her cell phone already dialing to warn the team. They might be called on to demonstrate all their skills today.
When Ari arrived at the compound, it was quiet. The kind of quiet referred to as the calm before the storm. The team worked in silence, scanning the cameras for trouble. Weapons were laid out on desks and tables. They’d already absorbed the news of Victor’s treachery, understood his intimate knowledge of the compound, and that the dreaded map of the inner chambers was probably in the hands of the wolves. Determination hung thick in the room. The way to the vampires was through them.
“With Victor dead, is there a chance the wolves will give up and go home?” Benny asked her.
Ari shrugged, knowing Benny’s question was just nerves talking. “Doubt if they know he’s dead. They’ll think he’s sleeping like the other vamps. I’m more worried they already had a plan and were waiting for the right moment.”
Benny plopped in a chair. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say.”
* * *
Just before noon, the whump, whum
p, whump of a helicopter and an explosion on the roof announced the assault. Plaster and debris rained from the ceiling, and thick, black smoke filled the air. Ari dove for cover behind the TV. Mike upended the table and crouched behind it with an assault rifle. The smoke bomb continued to pour a heavy veil around them. Ari heard gunfire from the other room, returned from above. Then thumping and scrambling as feet hit the floor. The combatants were coming through the roof. Mike fired a couple rounds, but the smoke was too dense to identify the targets. A strong odor of werewolf confirmed the arrival of Sheila and her pack of assassins.
The smoke residue stung Ari eyes, temporarily blinding her. She released a powder from her magical pouch and the smoke thinned around her. Snarls and growls seemed to come from every direction. Ari glimpsed a furry hand, but wasn’t sure whether it was friend or foe. A human form appeared in the haze carrying an Uzi, but combat was too close for him to use it effectively. Ari lunged forward, knocking his feet out from under him as she delivered two sharp jabs to his face and throat. He bucked her off, swinging the weapon around like a hammer and clipping her shoulder. He scrambled away. She threw a binding spell, but he vanished into the smoke.
A furry body crashed into her left side. Ari staggered and whirled to land a sidekick on the wolf’s hindquarters. As the creature turned to swipe with its claws, Ari caught a good whiff of its scent. The same scent that had been all over Yana. Ari’s blood pumped with the realization she’d finally come face-to-face with Sheila. The she-wolf’s claws raked across Ari’s waist, ripping her shirt and tearing away her belt. The dagger and bag of potions skidded across the floor. A gun exploded near Ari’s ear and blood splattered her face, blinding her, as Sheila yelped and rolled away. Mike yanked Ari behind the table.
Ari took a deep breath. The sweet, metallic smell of blood saturated the air. She wiped her face, removing a layer of blood and bits of fur. Sheila would heal her injuries, but Mike’s bullet had given the she-wolf something to think about.
A gray wolf face loomed over the table. Ari hit him between the eyes with witch fire. The face exploded in flames. Let him try to heal that.
The ventilation system kicked in, and the heavy smoke drifted toward the vents. Ari saw dark shadows to go with the various screams, growls, and loud blasts from the guns. She finally located the rest of her team. Lilith was in the surveillance room, firing from behind a computer desk that partially blocked the door. Russell, transformed into a small but muscular lion, was locked in a biting, clawing struggle with a large, dark-brown wolf. Ari figured Russell’s greater agility would win that fight. Mike had traded the rifle for a handgun. All of her team members were armed with silver bullets. After that brief second of assessment, Ari went to Benny’s aid. He had shifted into lion form but was outnumbered by three wolves who had trapped him in a corner. She blasted two of them with three stuns, at least temporarily evening the fight.
Two more smoke bombs exploded, obscuring the scene again, and she heard more wolves drop from the roof. Ari crept forward, stepping over two bodies on the floor. When she reached the wall, she spotted human forms directly ahead, one with an Uzi. They were running their hands over the knotty pine wall. Damn, damn, damn. Ari fired into the smoky haze with two more stunners, hoping to stop them before they found the latch. With her magic level now low and needing to regenerate, she was forced to retreat, leaping over the table to avoid the return fire from the Uzi. She nudged Mike. Although the smoke was still too thick to aim, he fired blindly in the direction of the secret passage. Ari heard an anguished yelp. She pulled the derringer from her ankle holster and started forward again.
Ari stumbled over the wolf Mike had shot. She had nearly reached the wall again, when she heard the distinctive click of the latch opening. Abandoning caution, she sprang forward, arriving in time to see three wolves escape inside. Sheila sprang out of the smoke to follow them, but her injuries made her one step too slow. Ari knocked her aside and fired the derringer into the she-wolf’s gut. Sheila howled with pain and anger, falling back into the smoke. Ari yelled at Mike for someone to follow the she-wolf, then she plunged into the tunnel.
Like the passage to Club Dintero, there were no lamps, no electrical system. For the first ten feet, the light from the open panel revealed the way. As soon as Ari rounded the first turn, the light faded to total darkness. She squeezed her eyes closed, forcing them to make a quick adjustment. She heard the wolves ahead and moved in their direction. The derringer remained in her hand. Not killing power against werecreatures, but still damaging. And she had one bullet left.
She could smell the wolves’ trail, but they had an advantage—they knew the way. Victor had committed the ultimate betrayal by revealing his prince’s sleeping chambers. Ari could only follow, and she’d have to stick close. As the sound of their feet on the tunnel floor began to fade, she broke into a slow jog, trailing one hand along the wall to guide her in the dark. If she missed a turn, she might not find them again before they found the vampires. Somewhere ahead, the prince and his court were sleeping, defenseless. And Andreas was one of them.
She increased her pace again, concentrating all her senses on following the path. She was so attuned to the smell of the wolves, that she failed to register the sudden closeness. She collided with a furry mass. A rear guard. Ari stepped in close, pressed the derringer against his throat, and pulled the trigger. Blood spurted. The wolf grunted and slumped to the floor. Not dead, but down. She stopped long enough to mutter a binding spell to hold him an extra minute or two. She hoped it was enough. With the derringer now useless, she left it on the tunnel floor.
Ari hurried on, arriving at an intersection of four paths. The smell of wolf was all around her. She hesitated, listening, uncertain which route to take. Sounds came from the tunnel behind her. Had the injured wolf recovered so quickly? Was it her team? Or had Sheila returned? She didn’t have time to find out.
Reaching out with her witch magic, Ari picked up nearby energy. Second tunnel on the right. Startled by how close they were, she slipped forward, more cautious now. Another misstep might not turn out as well. She kept her back against the wall, hands searching along the clammy walls.
Ari felt the familiar surge in her blood as her witch fire rejuvenated. Soon it would be strong enough to use. She crept through three more junctions. Only once did she make a false turn. Her senses alerted her quickly, and she corrected but lost precious seconds. She forged ahead, intent on her quarry, aware with every step that pursuers were also closing in from behind.
She began to pick up faint traces of Otherworld power. Not wolf. Vampire. Her witch magic reached out for the trace that led to Andreas.
“There!” The word rang out like a shot from the blackness ahead.
Ari sprinted forward. That single word meant one thing—the two assassins had found the entrance to the sleeping chambers. No! She couldn’t let this happen. Not to Andreas. She put everything she had into a desperate sprint, her magic reaching out before her, witch senses screaming in her ears. Danger. Danger. Her mind formed terrible images of the wolves breaching the chamber door.
Rounding a sharp corner, she braked to a stop. She still had time to stop them. The guy with the Uzi held a flashlight in one hand and was running the other over a rock wall; the gun lay at his feet. A brown wolf guarded his back and immediately charged her. Ari backpedalled, firing a small burst of stuns into the lunging figure. He stumbled. She dodged aside as he crashed against the rocky wall. She sprang toward the man at the end. He grabbed for the Uzi, but her foot got there first, kicking it against the far wall. She body-slammed the assassin, forcing him away from the entrance. Ari whirled, back against the wall, making her body a barrier.
The brown wolf regained his feet and rushed toward her. The gunman crawled toward the Uzi. Pounding feet raced toward them from the tunnels. Ari summoned her magic for a last stand.
An enormous black wolf launched into the room, taking down her wolf attacker. The gunman reached the Uzi and swung it ov
er his body one handed. Her crimson fire caught him as he pulled the trigger. Bullets riddled the wall. Ari saw the surprise on his face before he burst into flames and dropped the discharging weapon.
Ari didn’t see him die. A ricocheting bullet caught her arm and sent her reeling against the wall. As she felt the rock impact on her forehead, the wall opened, and she fell into Andreas’s arms. The vampire stared down at her, a strange look on his face. Ari slipped into darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Three
She opened one eye. Tan walls. Ari lay on a sofa in a room she had never seen before. Her arm was bandaged—again—and a damp cloth covered her forehead. She opened the other eye. Andreas sat on the arm of the sofa talking to someone she couldn’t see without sitting up. She wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.
Events and images flooded back. The deafening gunfire, the blood, the bodies. What had the vampires thought of the carnage throughout the compound? Jeez, Ari, she chided herself. They’re vampires. Tame stuff to them.
She stretched her arm to see how bad it was. Andreas immediately crouched at her side.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Ready for another round,” she said in a feeble stab at humor.
“Well, isn’t she the bloodthirsty one,” Carmella said from somewhere above her. “And they think we’re bad.”
There it was again, that vampire issue with humor. Before Ari thought of a suitable response, she heard Carmella walk away.
Andreas looked at Ari, his face unreadable. “Your magic woke me,” he said. It almost sounded like an accusation. “An overwhelming sense of danger jolted me awake. Your magic filled the room, and I saw the wolves outside the chamber door. Outside,” he repeated, as if she might have missed it the first time. “What kind of a witch are you?”
Ari stared at his face, saw the tension, even the alarm in his eyes. But no one could wake a vampire. Could they? Or do the things he was suggesting. “What are you talking about?”