The prisoner reacted so quickly it surprised even him. He grabbed the pale-haired man’s arm, gripping it hard.
The man hissed, revealing broken fangs.
The prisoner jumped back in alarm.
“Who are you?” the blond man asked.
The prisoner didn’t answer.
“Who wants to know?” Anna asked.
The blond frowned and then looked at Anna. “So this is why no one can find you. How did she get here?” he asked the servant.
“Apparently she sneaked inside the dungeon.”
The pale-haired man looked around the room. “This is as good a place as any to keep them while I unravel this mystery.” He moved toward the door. “Say nothing to Tristol. I don’t know who he has here, but it’s not the Mighty Faelan. I’ll try to find the real warrior and capture him before Tristol realizes he’s been duped. Otherwise, all our lives are going to be hell.”
He breezed out of the room, and the servant stared at the prisoner. His face seemed to ripple, and for a moment the prisoner thought he glimpsed a woman’s face.
He turned to them, his expression blank now. “I’ll be back with food.”
“I’d rather have answers and some bloody clothes,” the prisoner said.
“The master has new clothes for you as well.” He set a box down. “I believe you’ll find everything here.”
“Did you see his teeth?” he asked when the servant had gone.
“Fangs. He’s a vampire.”
“Vampires don’t exist.” Not anymore. He frowned. Was that another memory?
“I wish, but I’m afraid they do.”
“Are you certain?”
“I killed one on the way here. And unless I’m mistaken, this blond is the one Ronan’s been following.”
“Damnation.”
“You say that a lot.”
“What?”
“Damnation.”
“My apologies. I shouldn’t curse in front of a woman.”
“I don’t mind. I just know someone else who says that.”
“This Ronan who’s following the vampire?” She seemed overly familiar with too many men.
“No, not Ronan.”
“Who is he?”
“A warrior. We’re part of the same clan. He’s obsessed with the blond vampire. He got away from Ronan when we were fighting Druan.”
“Druan. I think I’ve heard that name before.”
“I’m not surprised. Every warrior knows his name. He’s powerful.”
“Like Tristol.”
“Yes. I have to let the clan know that Tristol is here and that he’s working with vampires. Obviously he wants Faelan for his breeding plan. Bree isn’t going to like that.”
“Is she another warrior?”
“And then some.”
He didn’t understand her meaning, but they had other priorities. “Then let’s get dressed. I don’t feel like fighting in nothing but my skin.”
Anna took her clothes into the bathroom while he shaved and dressed in the clean kilt and shirt the man had left. When she reappeared, his mouth dropped. Her dress was indecent, cut up to her thighs and down between her breasts.
“You can stop gaping,” Anna said.
The prisoner averted his gaze. “Surely you don’t plan to wear that.”
“It’s this or the sheet.”
He looked at the bed, as if considering it. “How can you even climb in that garment?”
“I’ve climbed in worse.”
“He’s coming back.”
The servant entered the room and set down a tray of food, better than what they’d been fed in the dungeon. Her stomach growled, but there was no time to eat. As soon as he turned to go, Anna grabbed a napkin and put it behind her back. Just before the door closed, she darted forward and stuck the folded napkin between the casing and the lock.
The prisoner looked impressed.
“The oldest trick in the world,” she said. She put her ear to the door. “It’s quiet.”
“Wait a moment until we’re certain he’s gone.”
“We can’t wait long. He’ll be back.” She didn’t want either of them here for whatever Tristol had planned. Flashes of a dark room and mournful cries stirred in her mind, but she couldn’t sharpen the image. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. “We need weapons. I wish I had my talisman.”
His hand rose to his neck. “I know that word.”
“Talismans are a warrior’s weapon against demons, though they don’t work on vampires. The only way to kill the creatures is to cut off their heads or pierce their hearts. We need a sword or something sharp.”
The prisoner braced his foot against the four-poster bed and yanked, breaking off a jagged piece of the antique post. He grinned and gave it a couple of practice swings, as a warrior might with a sword. “Like this?”
“Good thinking.” Anna broke off another post, and the prisoner emptied a pillowcase and put the food and bottled water inside. Armed with their crude weapons, they slowly opened the door. The structure they were in was round with stairs circling the outer perimeter. “We’re definitely in a tower.”
“That should make it easier to determine where we are,” the prisoner said.
“I don’t know. This fortress had several towers. Guess we’re going down. We’ll have to risk running into someone.”
“Towers often have a door leading to the roof. Perhaps we can climb down and avoid getting caught.”
He was remembering more about his past. She had her own theories, but she didn’t want to spring them on him. Now wasn’t the time. “If I remember the size of this fortress, we’d have a long drop if we fell. But it’s worth a try.”
They checked the small area but didn’t find any other way out. “I guess we take the stairs,” he said.
They crept down the narrow staircase, armed with their bedpost stakes and the pillowcase of food that the prisoner held in his other hand. “We should be nearing the bottom,” Anna said after they had descended dozens of steps.
“I hear voices.”
His hearing must be excellent. Hers was as well, and yet she hadn’t heard anything. “We’ll have to be very quiet from here on out.”
“I’m not as light of foot as my brothers,” he whispered. “They say I stomp like a bull—” He stopped and frowned.
“Your memory is definitely coming back.” If his brothers were quieter than he was, then they were damned good.
They continued without speaking and soon came to a door. The voices were louder. “We must be on the second or third floor,” Anna whispered. “I’ll check.” The door was unlocked. She eased it open and saw a large room filled with people. Before she could move, a woman walked by. There wasn’t even time to shut the door. Anna froze, but the woman moved on without a glance. A man followed behind her, pausing briefly to sniff the air as he passed.
“They can’t see us,” the prisoner whispered after they were gone.
“It’s cloaked,” Anna whispered. “He’s cloaked the tower, just like he did the fortress.”
“What do you mean?”
“He puts a cloak around things, like a magic veil, so it’s invisible from the outside. This entire fortress is cloaked. No one would know it’s here unless they ran into it. That’s how I found it. Problem is, we don’t know how far the cloak extends around the tower, what its inner dimensions are, and how it works. Once we step into this room, they might see us.”
“And just because they can’t see us doesn’t mean they can’t hear us,” he said. A second man approached. He slowed and sniffed, lips drawing back to reveal fangs. Anna stood still, not breathing. The vampire frowned and continued walking.
“Vampires,” she whispered. “This sucks. They have a really strong sense of smell.” At least that’s what she’d gathere
d from her brief experience with the creatures. “We need to test the cloak. I’ll step out and see—”
The prisoner pulled her back. “I’ll do it.” He scowled. First, he extended his bedpost stake out a couple of feet. No one in the room seemed to notice. “I think if we stay close to the wall we’ll be all right. Follow me.”
The prisoner led the way. Backs against the wall, they crept past the vampires lounging in the richly furnished room. The lighting was low, but Anna could see that some of the creatures were elegant, lean and pale, some Goth. Several couples were drinking in dark corners. Not from glasses, but with fangs sunk into throats as bodies writhed in passion.
“Bloody hell,” the prisoner whispered just above his breath.
A gaunt-looking man walked by, his eyes ringed with red. He stopped and turned, looking straight at Anna through the veiled air. His nostrils flared, and he stepped closer.
Anna froze, her hand tightening on the bedpost stake. She felt the prisoner beside her, but she didn’t dare move or glance at him. Anna closed her eyes and focused on the prisoner’s scent and not the bloodlust in the vampire’s eyes.
The vampire stepped closer. His lips pulled back, baring sharp fangs. Anna looked deep into his red-rimmed eyes as he stared blankly at her. The prisoner’s fingers tightened on his stake, and he lowered the pillowcase of food to the ground. If the vampire took one more step Anna knew the prisoner would attack.
“Don’t,” she mouthed, feeling for his hand. Across the room, a woman glanced in their direction. Smiling, she called out to the man. He sniffed again, shook his head, and walked to the woman. She lifted her hair, and the vampire sank his teeth into her neck. Her body went stiff, either with pleasure or pain.
“We’ve got to get out of this room or go back to the tower,” the prisoner whispered.
“I’m not going back.”
He pointed to an elaborate door at one end of the room. “Let’s try to reach that door. It seems to be the only one that’s close to the wall.” He led her past another couple. Anna looked back and didn’t see the prisoner had stopped to avoid the servant. She plowed into his back causing both of them to stumble. Her stake flew out of her hand and landed at the feet of the red-eyed vampire. He raised his head, his fangs red with blood. The other occupants of the room looked at the bedpost and then lifted red-tinged eyes to Anna and the prisoner.
CHAPTER NINE
WE’RE OUTSIDE THE veil,” Anna said.
“Run,” someone yelled. Anna thought it might have been the servant. The prisoner grabbed Anna’s arm as she reached down for her stake, and they started to run through the dimly lit room. They didn’t get far. Hisses cut through the air as the vampires rushed at them in a streak of light, circling them. Anna and the prisoner stood together, stakes gripped in their hands as they faced the fanged creatures standing only feet away.
Anna was sure they would have attacked immediately if they weren’t trying to figure out who they were and where they’d come from. The vampire with red-rimmed eyes moved first. He leapt at her, and she was pulled aside as the prisoner yanked her arm, flinging her behind him. He swung his bedpost like a sword, knocking the red-eyed monster to the floor. Anna attacked, driving her stake through his heart. He vanished in a pile of dust.
The others looked stunned. “You have to cut off their heads or pierce their hearts,” she yelled, taking advantage of their hesitation.
“If I had a bloody sword, it would help,” the prisoner said. Another one rushed them, and he drove his bedpost into its heart with one powerful thrust.
Definitely a warrior. But there were too many vampires. They would never defeat them all. Someone screamed, and everyone turned. A man stood at the back of the room. He towered over them all, a giant of a man with long, brown hair, and dressed like a biker. He let out a growl, and his skin stretched and bones lengthened, until he didn’t resemble man, but a monster with gray skin and yellow eyes.
“Oh my God.” Anna felt her mouth drop.
“Kill them all!” the demon roared, and more demons burst into the room. Hisses filled the air as the vampires rushed at the demon and his allies.
“We have to leave. Now,” Anna cried. But the prisoner stared at the demon, his face as pale as his shirt. Anna grabbed his hand and yanked. “Come on!”
He moved ahead, using his body to shield her from the fighting creatures. The room echoed with screams and roars. The vampires were fast, but the demons were stronger and appeared to be winning.
The prisoner tried to open the fancy door, but it was locked. He stepped back and threw his weight against it, and when it gave, he shoved Anna inside the dark room. She found a light switch and turned it on. Treasures and antiques filled every space.
“Damnation.” The prisoner glanced around, grabbed a heavy cabinet, and dragged it in front of the door. “See if there’s a door or a window.”
They ran around the room, searching for an exit as screams sounded outside the door. Anna passed a shelf filled with every kind of emerald imaginable—emerald rings, emerald amulets, emerald daggers. She yanked aside a pair of heavy burgundy draperies and saw they were still at least three stories above the stone wolves guarding the front of the fortress. “We’re not getting out this way unless you know how to fly—” Anna glanced over and saw a woman, wantonly dressed, holding a broken bedpost.
“This is no time to be worrying about how bonny you look.” The prisoner appeared next to the woman, his handsome face—not quite as swollen now—wearing a frown.
It was only their reflection in a mirror. Anna felt a sense of weightlessness as she stared at the image. The mirror troubled her in spite of the fact that demons and vampires were fighting outside, and she and the prisoner would probably be killed by the victors.
The prisoner pulled her away. “Keep looking. There might be a secret door.”
Probably. The room reeked of secrets. But where? They didn’t have much time. Avoiding the mirror, she helped him search the room as screams continued outside. His kilt swirled around powerful legs as he pulled a bookshelf away from the wall.
“Here, I’ve found something.” He pointed to a hairline crack in the stone, the size of a small door.
A crash sounded behind them. The heavy cabinet blocking the door fell to the floor. The huge demon stood in the doorway. This close, there was no mistake. It was Voltar.
All warriors knew what the demons of old looked like. Photos and information about the demons were listed in the clan’s databases, even known human aliases. Anna had never expected to encounter Voltar. He was one of the most powerful demons in existence. Why was he in Tristol’s fortress killing vampires? Why were vampires even here? They hadn’t looked like intruders. They’d looked right at home.
The prisoner moved in front of Anna, gripping his stake.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you,” the demon said to the prisoner as he advanced slowly toward them. He smiled, his teeth sharp in a thickset jaw.
“Don’t—” Anna warned the prisoner.
But he was already rushing at Voltar with a war cry that made the hair on Anna’s arms stand. He drove the pointed end of the stick at the demon’s head, but Voltar laughed and ducked clear.
“No,” she yelled. “You can’t fight him. He’s an ancient demon.” But the prisoner didn’t listen. He fought harder. Turning, he swung his makeshift stake at the demon’s head. This time, the demon miscalculated and didn’t move quickly enough. The wood smashed into the side of his head, and the giant demon staggered.
“Oh hell.” Anna raised her stake and rushed to join the fight. She kicked Voltar in the chest. He grinned, and his thick arm snaked out and grabbed her foot. Dancing for balance, she drove her stake at his chest, but it barely stuck. He growled and removed the stake while still holding her foot. The prisoner lunged at Voltar, breaking his hold on Anna. She fell to the floor, watching as the de
mon wrapped both massive arms around the prisoner, trapping him. The prisoner fought with his feet and forehead, butting Voltar in the chin. The demon opened his mouth wide and sank sharp teeth into the prisoner’s shoulder. Then he flung him away with a swipe of his claws.
There was a scraping sound behind her and a familiar roar. A man burst out of a small door in the wall. His clothes were tattered, and his hair and eyes wild. Most of his face was covered by a beard. The hybrid.
The next sequence happened as if she watched from outside her body. The hybrid rushed at Voltar, moving as fast as a vampire. The two sprang together in a clash of claws, fists, and teeth. Anna rushed to the prisoner. He lay on the floor, his shirt drenched in blood from his shoulder and his stomach. She pressed her hands to his wound. At this rate, he would bleed out. Just feet away, Voltar and the hybrid were locked in vicious combat. The hybrid picked Voltar up and threw him across the room. Then he approached Anna. She stood and faced him, ready to fight if she must. But the hybrid didn’t attack.
“Take him and go,” he said, shoving something cold into her hand. “Second door on the left.” Something flashed in his eyes. A memory tried to resurface in her mind. Then the hybrid bent over the prisoner. Before Anna could even move to defend him, the hybrid rose and hurried back to the demon, who had risen to his feet with a terrible roar.
Two talismans lay in her palm where the hybrid had placed them. Hers and another. It must be the prisoner’s. Why would the hybrid help them? The memory tried to resurface again, but there wasn’t time to sort it out. She bent down next to the prisoner and noticed blood at the corner of his mouth. Was he hemorrhaging? She put her talisman on and slipped the other talisman over his head. If it wasn’t his, she would have hell to pay from the Council. Talismans were sacred. And dangerous.
Heart Of A Highland Warrior Page 10