by Karen Kincy
“Bitch,” Zlatkov panted.
Ardis felt the weight of the handcuffs at her wrists. She narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve heard it all before,” she said. “Can’t think of anything creative?”
Ardis wrenched against the handcuffs and twisted her left hand loose. She surged to her feet and punched Zlatkov in the jaw. His head snapped back. She kneed him in the groin and dropped him to the floor, then savagely kicked him in the stomach. He curled like a worm. Breathing hard, Ardis glanced at the door.
She could run away, or she could incapacitate him.
Obviously the second option was the superior one.
Ardis waited for Zlatkov to uncurl, then kicked him in the face. Her boot connected with his nose. His eyes rolled back. Blood trickled across his cheek. She stared at him until she was sure he was out cold, then crouched and searched his pockets for the key to her handcuffs. She freed herself and grabbed his pistol.
Only then did she realize she was shaking all over. From adrenaline. From memories.
Ardis leaned against the wall and forced herself to inhale. She had escaped what had happened in America. But she didn’t think she could ever escape the fear. A sour taste lingered on her tongue, and for a second she thought she might vomit. She coughed and pressed her hand to her mouth, then swallowed hard.
She had to get out of here. She had to find Wendel.
Ardis didn’t look at Zlatkov as she left the room. She unlatched the door and nudged it open with her toe, then peeked around the corner. No sign of anyone in the hallway. She retraced her steps to the foyer, then headed down the hallway where she had last seen Wendel. She followed several disorienting twists and turns, hoping she wouldn’t lose her way. Her breathing sounded too loud in the silence.
A door stood slightly ajar. Muffled voices leaked through the crack. Ardis couldn’t identify the words, but she could identify Wendel’s voice anywhere. She sucked in a breath, cocked her pistol, and kicked the door open.
A man stood with his back to Ardis. He whirled around and reached into his jacket.
Ardis squeezed the trigger. She shot him in the shoulder, and the bullet staggered him. But he was still reaching for a weapon. Without thinking, she aimed for his head and shot him between the eyes. He hit the floor.
Shaking, Ardis lowered her gun. She glanced at the man as he lay dying at her feet.
“Ardis,” Wendel said.
He sat chained to a chair, bruises on his cheekbones, bleeding from his lip. Otherwise he didn’t look worse for the wear.
Wendel smiled, then winced and licked his split lip. “My savior.”
Ardis shook her head and crouched over the man she had shot. His limp hand lay near his jacket. She searched his pockets until she found a hunter’s knife. She still had the key to her handcuffs, and she used it to free Wendel.
“Take this.” Ardis held out the knife. “But remember, they have guns in Bulgaria.”
“I noticed.”
Wendel climbed to his feet and took the knife from her. He glanced at her face, then touched her on the shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he said.
“I’m okay.” Ardis shrugged off his hand. “You?”
He nodded. “Let’s end this chat before our friends join the conversation.”
Ardis left the room first, since she was the one with the gun. The hallway was still empty, though she knew they had only eliminated two of the six men who had brought them here. And certainly not the entire border patrol.
“This way,” Ardis said, trying to sound confident.
Wendel held the knife ready and followed her lead. They skulked down the hallway. Ardis peeked around the corner.
“Ardis,” Wendel hissed. “Stop.”
She glanced back at him. “The coast is clear.”
He shook his head, his face pale beneath the blood and the bruises. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. That gleam awfully like fear.
“What is it?” she said.
Wendel gripped her arm and dragged her into a run. They swung around the corner and rushed down the hallway. Ardis didn’t know why he was running, but the sooner they got out of this godforsaken place, the better.
Wendel skidded to a stop. “Ah, damn.”
A pair of gaunt figures lingered at the end of the hallway. They shuffled nearer, as if hesitant, their faces shadowed. One was the woman with wolfish eyes. The other was a man with the same strange eyes and deathly skin.
Ardis stared down her pistol’s sights. “Don’t move.”
When they ignored her, she shot the man square in the kneecap. He barely stumbled, then turned on her and bared his teeth.
No, make that fangs.
Ardis swore under her breath. “Vampires?” she said. “Really?”
Wendel made a face. “Not my fault!”
“But you knew—”
Ardis never finished her sentence.
The vampire she had kneecapped sprinted at her with a snarl. She had never fought vampires before, had never even seen one, though she knew most had been hunted down and beheaded over the past century.
Beheading sounded good. Ardis reached for her sword that wasn’t there.
“Christ,” she said.
Ardis decided to improvise. When the vampire closed in, she pistol whipped him. Hopefully hard enough to knock out some of his teeth. The vampire’s head jerked sideways as he staggered against the wall.
Bleeding from his mouth, the vampire retreated from Ardis.
Wendel treated the vampires with considerable wariness. He circled the woman, his knife raised, nearly within her reach. His eyes glittered with intensity. When the vampire tried to touch Wendel, he lunged and grabbed her by the throat. Her fingers flew to meet his. The woman let out a strangled gasp but didn’t fight him.
“Stop,” Wendel murmured.
Ardis stared at him. “Are you actually trying to—?”
Movement in her peripheral vision. The wounded vampire charged and flung Ardis against the wall. She fired the pistol point blank between his ribs, but a bullet did nothing against a heart that had already stopped.
The vampire’s hand closed around her shoulder. He knotted his fingers in her hair.
Fear flooded Ardis’s blood. She pushed against the wall, trying to find some leverage, but the vampire was taller and stronger than her. He pressed against her with a growling sigh and yanked back her head. Baring her neck.
She sucked in air to scream, but the vampire clamped his hand over her mouth.
Ardis bit him first. Her teeth sank into his fingers. He grunted but didn’t let go, and she wondered if he even felt pain.
She couldn’t see Wendel. She could only see the vampire’s dead eyes.
Then the vampire closed his eyes and bent over her neck.
His teeth pierced her skin with blinding pain. The intensity of the agony increased until it shattered into pleasure. It shocked Ardis to realize how sweet it felt. Shivering, she clung to him as the strength melted from her muscles. Pinpricks danced over her skin, and her heartbeat whooshed gently in her ears like the sea.
The vampire’s bite ended, but the sensation lingered.
He released her and let her slump against the wall. She slid down to the floor, her eyesight blurry, and struggled to focus. She heard voices. They sounded underwater. A tall man with fair hair faced the vampire. When the tall man lifted his hands, flames crackled at his fingertips. He hurled fire at the vampire.
Ardis squeezed her eyes shut. The burning hurt to look at.
Distantly, she was aware of the cold concrete beneath her cheek. She ran the palm of her hand flat against the floor. She felt something warm, and looked at her fingers. Red. Blood. Frowning, she touched her neck.
Why did nothing hurt?
“Ardis. Damn it, Ardis, look at me!”
She blinked and turned her head until she found Wendel. He was kneeling over her and shaking her shoulder. He didn’t have to be so rough. The shaking jarred her
out of the sweet euphoria of the vampire’s bite.
“Wendel,” Ardis muttered. “Quit that.”
The tall man bent over Ardis, squinting, his eyes as blue as the sky. Frozen breath frosted the scarf over his mouth. He unwound the scarf clumsily, his hands armored in intricate mage’s gauntlets, the steel clicking like insects.
“Konstantin.” Ardis smiled. “What a surprise.”
Konstantin’s eyebrows gathered in a frown. “Help her stand.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Wendel said.
“It’s just the vampire’s venom,” Konstantin said.
“Just? Just?”
“She needs to walk it off.”
Wendel spoke through clenched teeth. “If you turn out to be wrong about this, so help me God, I will kill you myself.”
Konstantin blanched and raised his hands.
“The venom has a half-life of only two hours,” he said.
“This isn’t one of your textbooks,” Wendel said icily.
Wendel hooked his hand behind Ardis’s neck and lifted her head. He looked into her eyes. His own were so serious.
“Ardis,” Wendel said, “I need you to hold on. I will try not to hurt you.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” she said.
That didn’t seem to reassure Wendel.
Ardis laced her fingers behind Wendel’s neck, and he lifted her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest. His heartbeat thumped in her ear. Blood stained his shirt, and she realized her neck was still bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why?” Wendel said.
Ardis laughed softly. “I’m bleeding on your shirt.”
“Wendel.” Konstantin cleared his throat. “You should put her down.”
Wendel muttered some profanity, then lowered Ardis to her feet. Her legs wobbled. She held onto Wendel so she wouldn’t fall. Konstantin caught her other elbow. The metal of his gauntlets felt hot against her skin.
“Try to walk,” Konstantin said. “Physical activity should help counteract the venom.”
Ardis nodded. The movement made her head spin. She managed a step forward, but her next step turned into a stumble. Wendel caught her before she could fall. He lifted her back into his arms and started walking.
“I have a better plan,” Wendel said.
Konstantin followed alongside. “Which is?”
“We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Ardis winced as the bite on her neck started to throb. Wendel glanced at her face.
“Why is she still bleeding?” he said.
Konstantin raised his finger as he walked. “Vampire venom acts as an anticoagulant. That, and a rather powerful anesthetic.”
“And?” Wendel said. “How do we fix it?”
“I could cauterize the wound.”
Wendel grimaced. “Ardis?”
She squinted at him. Everything still looked blurry, though less of a pleasant blur.
“That sounds smart,” she said.
Konstantin held open a door, and they stepped into the night. Cold rushed over them, and Ardis’s teeth started to chatter. Konstantin held out his hand, flames rippling at his fingertips, his gauntlets glowing yellow with magic.
“Try not to move,” Konstantin said.
Ardis stiffened in Wendel’s arms. Konstantin pressed his fingertips to her neck. Magic seared her skin and burned the vampire’s bite. She gasped at the pain and forced herself to hold still as he stopped the bleeding with fire.
Konstantin lifted his fingers. “Done.”
Shivering, Ardis felt a lot more awake. She gripped Wendel’s shoulder.
“It hurts now,” she said.
“Good,” Konstantin said.
Wendel glared at the archmage.
“I think the venom is starting to wear off.” Ardis blew out her breath. “Damn.”
Ardis lifted her head to look around. Her neck throbbed with sickening pain. Konstantin hovered nearby with obvious worry. Behind him, the windows of the brick building stared at them like the empty eyes of skulls.
Wendel nodded at Konstantin. “Archmage.”
He said it the same way he did every time, his flippant disdain at odds with the begrudging respect in his eyes.
“You’re welcome?” Konstantin said.
“Now is when we say goodbye,” Wendel said.
Without waiting for a reply, Wendel started to walk across the cobblestones. Ardis held on and tried to breathe evenly.
“I was looking for you,” Konstantin said.
Wendel stopped with his back to the archmage. He waited for a moment.
“Why?” he said.
“They said you were dead, but they never found a body.”
Slowly, Wendel turned around. He kept his tone perfectly bland when he spoke.
“You contacted the Order of the Asphodel?” he said.
“I had to,” Konstantin said. “I need you.”
A hint of desperation sharpened Konstantin’s voice. He dragged his fingers through his windblown tangle of blond hair.
“For nostalgia’s sake?” Wendel bared his teeth. “You had us arrested, archmage.”
Konstantin bit his lip and averted his gaze. “I’m afraid things went terribly wrong. I’m lucky that I came when I did.”
“Very lucky,” Wendel said sardonically. “We almost escaped without you.”
“How did you find us?” Ardis said.
A little smile curled Konstantin’s mouth.
“Vampires,” he said. “The best bloodhounds to hunt down a necromancer. They crave the taste of a man who can control the dead.”
Wendel stiffened. Ardis flinched at his fingernails digging into her back.
“Put me down,” she said.
Wendel let Ardis slide to her feet. Her knees wobbled, but she managed to hide it. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms.
“What do you want from us?” Ardis said.
Konstantin’s jaw hardened. “You owe a debt to the archmages.”
They did—Ardis couldn’t deny it. Not only had Wendel sabotaged Konstantin’s automatons, but Konstantin had let Ardis run away to Constantinople to save the necromancer. She knew they should repay Konstantin.
And in all fairness, Wendel deserved some sort of punishment.
“Follow me,” Konstantin said, “and I will answer all of your questions on the way.”
Wendel stared at him. No doubt calculating the odds of the situation.
“This is our best option,” Ardis said.
Mostly because they didn’t have another one.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Ardis took a step toward Konstantin, which was a mistake. The world tipped around her like a chessboard losing all its pieces. She stumbled onto one knee and caught herself with her hand splayed on the cobblestones.
Wendel clutched her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be walking.”
“Can I lie down?” Ardis said.
He squinted. “Of course not.”
Ardis staggered to her feet and sucked in a long breath. Stars danced in the corners of her eyes. Her neck ached almost as sharply as the instant the vampire’s fangs had pierced her skin. Wind chilled her sweaty face.
“Wendel,” Konstantin said. “For once, don’t be an idiot. You can’t keep running, carrying Ardis through the snow, praying the assassins don’t realize you’re alive. Come with me and you can have a real shot at survival.”
Dizziness rippled over Ardis, and she blinked fast.
“Very well,” Wendel said. “You win.”
Judging by the ice in his voice, he hated saying every word.
“This way,” Konstantin said.
Wendel helped Ardis stagger across the town square. They reached a sleigh hitched to a matched pair of black draft horses. The great beasts snorted and pawed at the snow, heat from their nostrils fogging the air. Konstantin hopped into the sleigh and held out his hand. Ardis shied away from the steel of his gauntlets. She remembered the fi
re he had summoned from his fingertips to incinerate the vampire.
“Let me help you,” Wendel said.
With his hands at her waist, Wendel boosted Ardis into the sleigh. She clambered in gracelessly and slumped in the corner. Wendel settled next to her with a thud. He leaned back and stretched out his legs.
Ardis touched her fingers to her forehead. “Where are we going?”
“Not to our deaths, apparently,” Wendel said.
Konstantin shook his head. “Logic escapes you, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t trust you,” Wendel said, with more than a little insolence. “Do I need to explain the concept of revenge to you, archmage?”
Konstantin leaned across the gap between them. His eyes looked frosty.
“You are more useful to me alive,” he said. “Necromancer.”
Wendel looked smug, as if he had known he was invaluable all along.
At Konstantin’s command, the driver urged the horses into a trot. The sleigh lurched into motion and scraped over the snowy road. Blearily, Ardis gazed at the sky. Snow like powdered sugar drifted onto her face.
“Where are we going?” she said again.
“Phillipopolis,” Konstantin said.
That sounded vaguely familiar to Ardis, so she nodded.
Darkness swallowed the village. Only lanterns hanging from the sleigh lit their way. The horses plodded through a forest of pines, their harnesses creaking. The slicing of sleigh runners across snow underscored the silence.
Ardis tilted back her head and watched the boughs of trees pass overhead.
“Grok!”
“Oh, damn,” Wendel said.
Wingbeats whooshed between the trees. The raven fanned its tail and banked over the sleigh, then settled on a low-hanging branch. Wendel pantomimed throwing something at the bird to scare it away. The raven chattered in a bratty way, glided down to the sleigh, and landed behind the oblivious driver’s back.
Konstantin stiffened. “Get rid of your minion.”
“My what?” Wendel retorted.
“That crow.”
“The raven isn’t undead, archmage. I can’t control him.”
Konstantin arched his eyebrows. “Then why—?”
“He’s clever, that’s why.” Wendel smiled. “In his greedy little head, a necromancer is nothing more than a glorified sous chef for scavengers. If he follows me long enough, he might find his dinner. Something nice and dead.”