by Alyssa Day
“Right. Because you have a chance against an eleventh-level witch? I don’t think so. Maybe you should stay behind me,” she replied, her voice hardly shaking at all. He pulled her to him and kissed her, hard, then threw the door open and stepped out.
“Why does this sound so familiar?” he drawled, scanning the growing crowd of Weres facing him and flanking the gray-haired witch who stood in the center. There must have been fifteen or more, all shifted to their were-shapes.
All acting like they were in a bad freaking mood. Great.
“Wait, I know. Wasn’t there some story about the big, bad wolf who died horribly at the end?” he continued.
One of the Weres, a huge muddy-brown hulking monster, snarled at him, displaying dripping fangs. “That makes you the little pigs, human,” he growled in the distorted voice distinctive to his Were form.
Ven drew his sword. “This little pig has teeth, dog breath. State your business and get out.”
The witch spoke. “Very amusing bodyguard you’ve found, my dear. But then you and your sisters and your bitch of a mother always were good at attracting the handsomest men around, weren’t you?”
Erin flinched as if she’d taken a physical blow. “Lillian? Are they controlling you somehow? How could you…why could you—”
Lillian laughed, and her laughter had an edge of madness to it. “Right. Poor, weak Lillian must have somebody else pulling her strings in order to step out from behind the shadow cast by Berenice and Gennae, right? Or, ten years ago, by Gwendolyn? She took your father away from me, did you know that? Pretended to be my friend and then stole him, bedded him, and married him all before I even knew what was happening.”
Erin stood next to Ven, trembling. He watched her for signs of shock with the fraction of his attention he dared take away from the Weres, who kept edging closer.
“You must be insane! My father loved my mother, and both of them were never anything more than friends to you. But no matter what you think happened, does it justify this? Hurting people who love you? Are you…did you have anything to do with that attack on us?”
Lillian sneered at them. “Still a little slow, aren’t you? Guess it’s true what they say about blondes. I helped plan that attack, you idiot. Just as I helped plan most of the attacks for the past ten years. Caligula promised me a seat on his ruling council once we’ve taken over. Once we rule as we were born to do.”
Ven whistled, a long, slow sound of disbelief. “Are you stupid? Or did you just skip history class a lot? If you think you can trust the word of a monster like Caligula, you should have maybe had a chat with Tiberius about who held the pillow that smothered him, back in March of thirty-seven.”
Erin shot him a glance, eyebrows raised.
“Hey, I’m a history buff, what can I say,” he said, shrugging. “Plus my great-grandfather used to drink wine with the man occasionally.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Lillian screeched. “I am sick to death of being ignored! Gennae and Berenice spent the past decade ignoring and overruling me on coven decisions. Your parents ignored me when they fucked their way to wedded bliss. But no one will ignore me any longer!! I’m taking over the Circle of Light tonight!” Lillian raised her arms and glowing balls of fire formed in her palms.
Erin mirrored her action, calling her own fire, and Ven interrupted them. “Wait! How are you taking over the coven if you’re here? Not to douse your enthusiasm, but the Circle of Light HQ is a couple hours north of here, depending on traffic. Of course, I guess you could ride your broom,” he said.
Lillian’s face turned a vivid shade of purple, and she hurled one of the balls of witch fire at him. Erin threw a quick shield up, blocking it, and it bounced into a tree, which immediately exploded.
“You idiot! I’m here taking care of you while Caligula and Drakos are in Seattle! I don’t know why you’re his obsession, but I’m not going to stand by and watch him drool over you and your sister the way I had to watch your father drool over your mother. If you’re dead, Caligula and I can focus on more important matters, like our plans.”
The Were next to her roared what was probably supposed to be a spine-tingling, terror-inducing roar. “I give it a six point five,” Ven said. “Maybe throw in an extra point for pure ugly.”
The Were snarled at him and crouched, clearly preparing to attack.
“No sense of humor in the pack these days, hmm, boys?” Ven said, drawing a dagger from its sheath with his left hand and holding up his sword with his right, then he glanced at Erin, who stood frozen beside him. “Why do they always have to blather on and on about their quest for world domination, the glory of evil, blah blah blah? If you knew how many times I’ve had to listen to this self-serving whale shit over the centuries, you might understand how much fun I’m going to have skewering these furballs.”
Erin finally seemed to snap out of the fog of pain and shock and betrayal that had paralyzed her, and she looked up at him, then back at Lillian. “One question, you traitorous bitch. What did you do with Berenice?”
Lillian’s lips curved in a smile of such concentrated malice that even Ven felt the chill of it snake down his spine. Then she held up her hands again, and the balls of witch fire raised a few inches from her palms, illuminating the dark red stains coating her hands and arms. “Even you should know that I needed a blood sacrifice to call the dark. Let’s just say that it didn’t have to be a willing sacrifice.”
Erin threw back her head and howled, a cry of such pure anger and grief that it rivaled the wolves’ howls. “Then this is revenge, Lillian,” she snarled out.
“Try your best, Erin,” Lillian replied. “But know before you die that at least one of your sisters fell to my hand.”
With that final thrust, Lillian said, “Go!” and the Weres attacked. Ven had time to see Erin throw an arrow of glowing witch fire at Lillian before the first ugly hulk of a Were was on him. He channeled water and smashed their front line with a six-foot-high tidal wave of everything he could pull to throw at them, but it only knocked them off their feet for a few moments and then they were back on the attack.
He had time to think that he’d always been better with his blades than with calling the elements, and then all he could do was defend and attack—slash and stab and slash again, ducking and rolling and leaping as he did so, cutting down first one, then another. Flashes of lightning-bright explosions of witch light illuminated the sky over them, telling the tale of Erin’s battle with the traitor.
He fought furiously, slicing through hamstrings, through hearts, through necks, taking blows to his kidneys, his back, his head, claws and fangs and feet kicking and tearing at him until his skull rang from the pain and both he and his blades dripped with blood. He heard a distant roaring and realized it was him, calling Erin, calling Poseidon, shouting out his oath to protect her.
He grinned—a fierce, feral baring of teeth—and the Were coming at him hesitated for a moment, staring into his face with its beast eyes, which gave Ven time to gut it on his sword.
A loud, thunderous noise began to shake the ground around and under them, and Erin screamed. “Yes, sing to me, sing with me,” she screamed, and he realized it must be the Nereid’s Heart somehow responding to the gem singer. Then she started to sing, and the remaining Weres around him flinched back as if from something even scarier than Ven’s blades. They clapped their paws over their ears and fell to the ground, letting loose a discordant, terrified howl, rolling and cringing on the ground. Ven started to slice heads from bodies, but the warrior that he was could not in honor take the lives of helpless, cowering victims, so he turned to face Lillian and determine the threat she posed.
Erin’s song reached a high pitch far above soprano, a song that surely humpback whales would have recognized, and she threw her hands straight out in front of her and a bolt of pure silver light shot forth, straight toward Lillian. As he watched, keeping an eye on the fallen Weres and gasping for breath, Lillian’s body lifted off the ground an
d somehow expanded, as though the light filled her and was pushing out at her flesh, trying to force its way through. Then, in an instant, the light vanished and she fell, hard, to the ground. Erin dropped her hands, bent her head, and stood, panting, apparently exhausted but unharmed.
The Weres began howling even more loudly, still cowering and rolling on the ground, so Ven ran toward the fallen witch, sword raised, prepared to take the final killing stroke and spare Erin that pain.
But when he reached her, her neck lay at an impossible angle to her head and her eyes gazed blankly at the sky.
“She’s dead, Erin,” he said. “She can’t hurt anyone else anymore.”
“I know,” she said, and—for a brief moment—the pitiless goddess he’d seen in her in Atlantis shone forth from her eyes. Then the moment passed and she put a hand over her mouth and ran to the side of the cabin where she vomited, violently, into the snow.
He wanted to go to her, but there was the matter of the eight remaining Weres to deal with, and he swore viciously under his breath as he stared at them.
“Need some help with your animal control problem?” A female voice came from behind him, startling him, and he whirled around to face a small woman sitting astride an enormous tiger. As he gaped at her, Quinn hopped off her snarling mount and walked up to him. “Jack and I are here to help.”
Erin stood up, scrubbed fresh snow over her face, then walked toward them. “Quinn. It’s good to see you. We have news to share.”
Quinn nodded grimly while Jack stalked around the group of cowering Weres, viciously snarling at any who dared to raise their heads. “We have news, too, and it’s not good.”
Chapter 24
The treetops near the
Circle of Light Headquarters
Daniel stared down at the vampires circling the magical shield through his new and improved vision, which now bizarrely kaleidoscoped into a prism of infrared gone multicolored. If he’d known he’d gain this kind of power from drinking the blood of an ancient vampire, he would have drained the bastard the first time he’d met him. His wounds were entirely healed, and he felt the life force of more energy than he’d had since becoming undead pumping through his body.
Although he’d come closer to the permanent death than he ever had before in the doing of it, dragging his bloody carcass back to the mountain had sealed Caligula’s trust in him. Now he would finally have the opportunity to destroy the monster, and the world would be a much better place.
At least until the next would-be conqueror popped up. He’d thought Barrabas’s death would have thrown off course—even a little—the evil vampire’s insidious encroachment of power over the human political infrastructure. But even after permanent death, Barrabas’s influence continued to spread. The perfect example of what a good strategist with absolutely no boundaries could accomplish.
Daniel watched the members of Caligula’s blood pride scurrying along the edges of the shield below and admitted the grim truth to himself. Four days out of five, he was discouraged enough to consider facing the true death. If he hadn’t met the Atlanteans and Quinn and finally had partners in his covert efforts, he certainly would have done it sooner. Life—even undead life—needs hope, and Daniel was all out of that.
“Drakos!” Caligula thundered at him. “Get over here and help me determine how to break through that witch’s shield!”
Daniel nodded and floated through the treetops toward his so-called master. Soon. The very first chance I get, Caligula, your ass is mine.
The cabin
Ven entered the cabin and his gaze immediately went to Erin, who sat curled up into a ball on their sleeping bags. She’d probably drained all her power again, but somehow she’d overpowered a witch who sat two levels ahead of her on the power grid, or whatever the magical folk called it. Unless he was reading her wrong, she’d also killed her first person, which was never an easy thing to get past.
It never should be an easy thing to get past, he thought grimly, no matter whether it was your first kill or your hundredth kill. Even if, like him, you’d killed so many you couldn’t even keep track anymore. Killing was killing, and the gods more than likely kept some kind of giant scorecard until the end of your days. If they did, surely they’d note Erin’s courage, which had shone more brightly than her witch fire. He walked over to her and pulled her onto his lap, then simply sat in silence, arms encircling her, and breathed in the scent of her hair.
The door banged open and Jack, in human form now, although he didn’t take up all that much less space on two legs, strode in with Quinn right behind him. “They didn’t know anything about Caligula’s plans,” Jack said, brushing wet snow off his hair. “They were way down on the food chain, so to speak.”
Ven raised an eyebrow. “They were way down on the food chain?”
Jack’s eyes looked more big cat than human when he replied. “Yeah. They were.”
Quinn’s face was nearly as pale as Erin’s, and her eyes had gone flat and dead. Either she was a stone-cold killer or she retreated from the world when she was forced to do horrible things in the name of her cause. Their cause, he silently amended. Knowing Riley, Ven was pretty sure that Quinn was no cold-blooded murderer. So it must be an extremely tough road that she walked. Even as Ven admired Quinn’s dedication and her courage, he promised himself that Erin would never need to face that bleak path.
“There’s coffee,” Erin said, her voice nearly inaudible. “And some canned food on the shelves and nonperishable stuff we brought with us.”
Quinn aimed her intense focus at Erin. “You don’t need to play hostess, gem singer. We can—” She broke off midsentence and swiftly crossed the room to crouch down in front of Erin. “Oh, no, Erin. You can’t feel like that over her. She was a traitor.”
“What?” Erin lifted her head, then dropped it back on her knees. “Oh, the emotional empath thing. Riley’s sister, so you, too, I guess. Well, stay out of my head.” There was no heat behind her words, just a dull apathy that scared Ven more than an emotional outburst would have.
“Ven, Jack. Get out,” Quinn said, standing. “Now.”
Ven’s arms tightened around Erin. “I don’t know what you—”
“Get. Out. Now,” she repeated, but she didn’t take her gaze from Erin, and the sympathy and understanding in Quinn’s eyes decided him.
“Okay with you, mi amara?” he murmured to Erin.
She shrugged, but then moved off of his lap, so he took that as assent and stood up to leave. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Quinn quirked an amused grin at him. “I’m not as scary as I look, big brother.”
“Big…” He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Oh, by the gods, I never considered that. When Riley and Conlan wed, we’ll be family. How am I going to survive that?” he groaned.
Quinn reached up and ruffled his hair, as if he were a tiny youngling. “It’s okay, Bro. I promise to take it easy on you at the family reunions.”
Still groaning, he followed Jack out of the cabin, sneaking a final glance at Erin as he went through the door. He was relieved to see a shadow of a smile on her face. Maybe Quinn could impart some measure of peace where he could not. All he could think to do was love her senseless until she slept, and that wasn’t really practical at the moment.
“Come on, fish boy,” Jack said. “I’ll teach you how to hunt for dinner that doesn’t come out of a can.”
Ven waited until the golden shimmer of transformation ended and the tiger stood where the man had been before he answered. “That’s fish man to you, fur face.”
The tiger growled and bounded off into the woods, and Ven followed, shaking his head at the realization that his circle of friends suddenly included witches, rebels, and tigers.
Headquarters, Circle of Light
Justice stalked the perimeter of the shield and thought for the third or fourth time in twenty minutes that he was glad to be on Alaric’s side. The priest had added his strength to Gennae’s
, and the shield was entirely impermeable to the maddened vamps who repeatedly hurled their bodies against it, fangs gnashing and red eyes glowing with murderous intent.
He swore under his breath as one of them dove straight at him out of the overhanging trees and smacked off the shield inches from his head. Scanning the treetops, he caught a glimpse of somebody who looked a lot like Daniel, at least from a distance, which would mean the vampire had survived Alaric’s blast at the warehouse.
Justice didn’t know whether to call that a plus or minus. Daniel in Drakos guise would have a plan to get at Caligula from the inside. Or so the theory went.
Personally, the idea that Daniel/Drakos was playing them all as some sort of undead double agent had crossed Justice’s mind more than once. The vamp looked like a man with secrets, and Justice was definitely in a position to recognize secrets. Like calling to like.
Not that Justice could ever tell his. At least to anyone he didn’t want to kill.
“Justice,” Alaric called out to him. “I think we need a plan. That is Caligula with Drakos, and he is commanding this attack. But if I release the shields to retaliate, these vampires will overtake the field.”
“They cannot enter the building without being invited, isn’t that true?”
“It should be true, with the warding, especially. But the arcane rules of vampire abilities as pertains to public buildings may hold sway here,” Alaric replied, his eyes glowing a fierce emerald green.
Gennae lowered her arms. “Thank you for humoring me, but it’s clear you’re holding this shield without me, Alaric. Perhaps if you release it to me, you could step through in the moment we transfer? And we have had vampires attempt to gain entrance to the headquarters below, with very bad results for them.”
Justice narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘very bad results,’ but a couple of things spring to mind. One, they could have been faking in order to get you to let your guard down. Two, what may affect a baby vamp is not going to be the same thing that affects a master vamp as old as Caligula.”