Night's Kiss

by Amanda Ashley

  * * *

  CHAPTER 24

  Weakened by the silver rubbing against his skin, Roshan made his way toward Anthony Loken's house. Though the holy water had dried long ago, his skin still burned, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but getting Brenna away from the warlock before it was too late.

  A vile oath exploded from Roshan's lips when he reached the front porch of Loken's house. Pain had dulled his thinking. He was here, with no way to get inside. Had he been at his full strength, he might have tried to cross the threshold in spite of the consequences, but he was too weak to battle the warlock's defenses, and growing weaker by the minute.

  Turning, he retraced his steps down the street until he came to another house. He knocked on the front door, waited impatiently for someone to answer his summons.

  It was a teenage girl with long blond hair. She wore a red halter top that exposed an indecent amount of skin, and a pair of white shorts that were equally revealing. A small black rose was tattooed on her left shoulder.

  "Geez, man, what happened to you?" she asked, looking him up and down.

  "I don't have time to explain," he said, trapping her gaze with his. "Come with me."

  Without question, she followed him up the hill and onto Loken's front porch.

  Roshan handed her a large rock he had picked up along the way. "Break the glass."

  She didn't hesitate. Taking the rock from his hand, she tossed it through the narrow window beside the door.

  "Now, reach inside and unlock the door."

  Again, she did as she was told, her expression carefully blank, even when she cut her hand on a shard of glass. The scent of blood drifted through the air. Without thought, Roshan grabbed her hand and licked the blood from the wound.

  "All right,"—he searched her mind for her name—"Jean, I need you to go upstairs and find Brenna. When you find her, you will bring her to me."

  "Find Brenna, "Jean said. Opening the door, she disappeared inside the house.

  Closing his eyes, Roshan rested his forehead against the doorjamb. He was weary, so weary.

  In the distance, he heard a woman's voice calling Jean's name.

  A few minutes later, Jean appeared in the doorway, leading Brenna by the hand.

  "Roshan!" Breaking free of the girl's hold, Brenna ran toward him. "What has that monster done to you?"

  "I'll be all right. Come, we don't have time to waste."

  Brenna glanced over her shoulder. "Who is this girl? What is she doing here?"

  "There's no time to explain now. We've got to go. Jean, close the door, then come with me."

  Descending the stairs, Roshan started down the hill, closely followed by Jean and Brenna.

  When they were two doors away from Jean's house, Roshan drew the girl into his arms.

  "Brenna, turn away."

  "No."

  "Do as I say." His voice was low, ragged with pain and a hunger that would no longer be denied. "Please, Brenna."

  How could she refuse when he was looking at her like that, his voice filled with anguish and pleading, his eyes already turning red.

  With a sigh of resignation, she did as he asked, listened as he spoke quietly to the girl, assuring her that he would not hurt her.

  Brenna closed her eyes, trying not to imagine him bending over the girl's neck, his lips touching her skin…

  A bolt of bright green jealousy shot through Brenna. It was their wedding night! If Roshan needed to feed, why hadn't he asked her? She shook her head, appalled at the turn of her thoughts. She was angry because he was holding another woman in his arms, resentful that he had chosen to feed from someone else.

  She heard him speaking to the girl again, telling Jean that all was well, telling her to go home and remember nothing of what had happened.

  Brenna turned around when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Let's go."

  "Why?" she asked, her gaze searching his. "Why did you feed off her and not me?"

  Roshan stared at his bride, unable to believe that she was jealous. Laughing softly, he took her hand. "This isn't the time or the place to discuss it," he reminded her. "Loken could return any time."

  She shivered at the mention of the warlock's name. "Let us hurry."

  It took the last of his strength to will them home. Inside the front door, he dropped to his hands and knees, then rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes, panting heavily. But it didn't matter. Brenna was safe now. Nothing else mattered.

  Brenna knelt beside him. There was a hideously ugly red mark around his neck. His chest and belly were covered with blisters. The skin on his wrists and ankles was raw and angry looking.

  Choking back her tears, she stroked his brow. "What can I do? How can I help?"

  He lifted one hand. "Get these off me."

  With a nod, she ran upstairs to her room. Grabbing the wand she had finished only days ago, she hurried back to Roshan's side. Clutching the wand she focused on the manacle on his right hand.

  "Rimuova!"

  There was a soft click, and the manacle fell to the floor. She repeated the spell on his left hand and each ankle, then kicked the shackles aside.

  She touched his chest with her fingertips, jerked her hand away when he winced at her touch. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, wishing she had some aloe to apply to the burns.

  With an effort, he opened his eyes. "I'll be all right in a few days. If Loken tries to come here, the wards should keep him out. If I don't rise tomorrow night, don't worry…"

  Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

  "The Dark Sleep heals me. I may not awake at sunset." He rolled onto his knees then sat back on his heels and cupped her face in his hands. "Not much of a honeymoon, Mrs. DeLongpre," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

  "We will just have to wait a few days." She looked at him, her worry evident in her eyes. "Maybe you should go downstairs and rest."

  He nodded. "Will you be all right?"

  "I am not afraid."

  "You're not a very good liar, either," he said with a faint smile. "I love you."

  "I love you."

  He kissed her, a quick brush of his lips across hers, and then he opened the door to his lair and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

  Anthony Loken stared at the empty table in disbelief. The vampire couldn't have escaped the chains. It was impossible. Everyone knew silver rendered the undead weak and helpless. Yet the fact remained that the creature was nowhere in sight.

  A shiver slid down Loken's spine. The vampire was far more powerful than he had imagined! And then, stroking the vial in his pocket, he smiled. There was nothing to fear. All it meant was that once he had injected the vampire's blood into his own veins, he would be even stronger than he had hoped. But first he had two more tests to perform.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he gestured for the young man and woman to enter the lab.

  The girl stared in horror at the body laid out on the table against the far wall. Had she been able, he was certain she would have run screaming from the room, but her mind and her will were no longer her own.

  Lifting the body, Loken placed it on the floor in the corner and covered it with a sheet. He would have to dispose of it soon, he thought irritably. It was starting to stink.

  When both of his subjects were in place on their respective tables, he removed two vials from the tray. He injected the man with the first vial, held the second to the woman's lips and commanded her to drink. She stared at him, helpless to resist, her eyes wide with fear and revulsion. Almost, he felt sorry for her.

  Standing between the two tables, Loken watched them intently.

  In moments, they were both shrieking and writhing in pain.

  In a matter of minutes, they were both dead, their skin gray and shriveled, their eyes wide and frightened, even in death.

  Rage exploded through Loken. A swipe of his hand swept the tray from the counter. The vials shattered on the cement floor. Blood sprayed across the room, painting the walls with streak
s of crimson.

  With a wordless cry, he drove his fist into the wall once, twice, three times. Pain exploded through his knuckles and up his arm, bringing him back to his senses. Pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket, he wrapped it around his bleeding knuckles. Perhaps he was overreacting. Maybe his first theory had been right after all. Perhaps the deaths of these two subjects just proved that the blood mixture he had used on Brenna was only effective on witches and therefore perfectly safe for him to use on himself.

  Looking at the mess on the floor, he swore again. He had just destroyed all the blood samples he had.

  Hands clenched at his side, he took a deep calming breath. He had captured the vampire once, he could do it again. He would draw the remaining blood from the first corpse and refrigerate it, then he would dispose of all three bodies. When that was done, he would do the remaining tests on the witch.

  It was while he was sweeping up the broken glass that he found a single unbroken vial of the vampire's blood.

  Smiling, he tucked the glass tube in his coat pocket. All was not lost.

  Brenna sat on the sofa in front of the fire with Morgana curled up at her side. It was early morning, but Brenna couldn't sleep. She had taken a long hot bath, hoping it would relax her, and then gone to bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Anthony Loken standing over her, a maniacal gleam in his eyes as he jabbed a needle into a vein in her arm, a needle filled with Roshan's blood and the blood of a dead man. The thought sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine.

  Where was Loken now? Had he returned home and found her gone? Would he come after her again?

  Earlier, she had gone through Roshan's house, making sure all the doors and windows were closed and locked. She had drawn all the curtains, shutting out the night.

  And now she sat here, clad in her gown and robe, staring into the flames, listening to the soft sound of the rain on the roof. Had it not been for Loken, she would have been outside, enjoying the storm, perhaps dancing under the clouds. She jumped as thunder rumbled overhead.

  Morgana lifted her head, her yellow eyes glowing in the light of the fire.

  Brenna sighed, wishing that Roshan were there beside her. She wouldn't be afraid if he were here, though she doubted he would be capable of protecting himself against Loken, let alone the two of them. Roshan had said there was nothing to worry about, that he would heal in a couple of days.

  Did they have a couple of days? Would she ever feel safe anywhere again?

  What if Anthony Loken was searching for the two of them, even now? If he was as powerful a warlock as he appeared to be, he would have no trouble finding them. All he needed was something that had belonged to one of them: an item of clothing, a strand of hair, a drop of blood. A simple spell would lead him straight to this place. Her only hope was that the wards Roshan had set around the house and the grounds were strong enough to repel whatever spell the warlock conjured.

  She glanced at her arm, at the tiny pinprick left by the needle. What effect, if any, would the blood Loken had injected into her vein have on her? Would she live forever? Would any injuries she might sustain in the future heal with the same preternatural rapidity as did Roshan's?

  Overcome with a sense of morbid curiosity, she went into the kitchen and pulled a sharp knife from the drawer. She stared at the blade a moment, then, biting down on her lower lip, she made a shallow gash in the palm of her left hand.

  Blood welled from the cut and she wiped it away with a dish towel, stared in disbelief as the edges of the cut drew together until nothing remained but a thin red line, and then that, too, disappeared.

  Merciful heavens, what did it mean? She made a second cut in her hand. Again, the wound healed within moments. Was it possible? Had Loken actually found the elixir he was looking for? Feeling suddenly nauseous, she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Merciful heavens, what if she was turning into a vampire?

  Brenna glanced at the window. Dawn lurked beyond the curtains. If she went outside, would she burst into flame?

  Fear was a hard, cold lump in her stomach, the taste of bile in the back of her throat. Morgana hissed softly and jumped off the sofa, her back arched, her tail at attention.

  Heart pounding, Brenna stood and walked toward the back door. Her hand was shaking as she reached for the knob.

  Roshan, hear me. Help me.

  But only silence answered her plea.

  Unable to restrain herself, she opened the back door and stepped out into the pale sunlight of a new day.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 25

  Gathering his power around him like a warm cloak, Anthony Loken focused his attention on the oval, silver-backed looking glass sitting on the table in front of him. Murmuring a divination incantation, he gazed into the mirror which slowly grew cloudy and then cleared, revealing a large two-story house located behind a high block wall. Leaning forward, he read the address on the curb—1366 Black Meadow Lane.

  "You can run, Brenna Flanagan DeLongpre," he murmured as he passed his hand across the mirror to clear it, "but you can't hide, my little witch, not now, not from me."

  He had not been surprised to find her gone when he returned home. Angry, but not surprised. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the vampire had found her and freed her, though how Roshan had crossed the threshold remained a mystery. But it was daylight now and the vampire would be trapped in the Dark Sleep, helpless to interfere.

  It took less than twenty minutes for Loken to reach the vampire's lair on Black Meadow Lane. Parking his car out of sight down the street, he walked up to the driveway. He held out one hand, felt the shimmer of power that surrounded the gates. So, the vampire had placed wards around his home, but that was to be expected.

  Pulling his wand from inside his jacket, Loken tried several spells, his agitation growing as each of them failed.

  He was a warlock. Save for Myra, he was the most powerful witch in the coven! How could a vampire, a creature who wasn't even human, thwart him?

  Fuming inwardly, he conjured another spell, felt it grow within him. With a wave of his wand, he threw his will at the gates. Power sizzled through the air, but to no avail. The gates remained closed against him; the wards prevented him from reaching the other side.

  Furious now, he paced along the length of the wall, searching for a way to get past the wards set by the vampire. When none could be found, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. It was time to call for backup.

  Brenna stepped out the back door, her whole body taut as the sun's light touched her face. There was no pain, though the brightness made her squint.

  She stood there for several minutes, weak with relief. She was about to return to the house when a whisper of power danced over her skin. She recognized it immediately for what it was. She had, from time to time, experienced the same sensation when Granny O'Connell practiced her magick in Brenna's presence. It meant there was a witch nearby.

  Loken!

  Every instinct she possessed told her that the warlock was there, trying to get past the wards set on the front gate.

  Whirling around, she ran back into the house. Snatching up her wand, she went into the bedroom, pulled back the curtains, and peered out the window. From her vantage point on the second floor, she could see the driveway and the front of the house, and even as she watched, she saw Anthony Loken approach the front gate. He wasn't alone this time. Myra and Serafina were with him.

  She stared down at the three witches, her heart pounding as she watched Myra sweep an area of the sidewalk. Though Brenna couldn't hear what was being said, she knew the witch was cleansing the area, sweeping away any negative energy that lingered there so it wouldn't interfere with whatever spell they planned to conjure. When the area was clean, Myra walked in a circle three times. The first time, she carried a bottle of water, the second time a handful of salt, the third time she swung a smoking censer filled with incense. Next, she pulled a piece of white chalk out
of her skirt pocket and drew a large circle on the sidewalk that encompassed the three of them. She touched her wand to the circle to close it, and then the three of them stood facing each other, their arms linked, forming another circle.

  Brenna drew away from the window, a shiver of unease running down her spine.

  What would she do if they breached the gates? The thought of being at Loken's mercy a second time filled her with dread. The man was insane, driven by his need to find a way to live forever, something mankind had been searching for since Adam and Eve brought death into the world. She wondered if Myra knew what Loken was trying to do. She wondered if he had injected Roshan's blood into himself. If so, then he knew it worked, at least in part, so why was he here? And if he hadn't, the question remained. Why was he here? Had he come to drag her back to his house for more tests?

  Either way, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

  Letting the curtain fall back into place, she ran downstairs to check the locks on all the doors and windows again.

  Anthony Loken felt his power merge with that of the other two witches as they joined arms. Alone, he had lacked the strength needed to break the wards set by the vampire, but with Myra and Serafina adding their magick to his, there was little chance of failure. Myra's voice rose as their power coalesced. Magick rippled through the air, raising the hairs along the back of his neck, causing the air within the circle to crackle with otherworldly energy as Myra gathered their combined power and directed it at the gates.

  There was a pop, like a cork being pulled from a bottle, and the gates swung open.

  They'd done it!

  Reaching into his pocket, Loken pulled out several strands of Brenna Flanagan's hair, as well as a vial of her blood that he had taken for his research. Bending, he placed both of the items on the sidewalk inside the circle Myra had drawn, and then once again linked his arms with the other two witches.