by Barb Hendee
With Julian swinging like a mad crusader, Christian was free to focus on Philip. This was all going well so far. He’d managed to keep Julian from using his gift, as he himself had no desire to be crippled by an aura of fear.
By now Wade was certainly dead, and Philip was about to join him.
Christian stood by the table, focusing all the strength of his gift on Philip, and he started sending impulses.
You’re weak.
You’ve forgotten how to use the sword.
You can’t keep your balance.
Philip stumbled and missed his first swing. His eyes were lost and confused as he brought the machete back up without an ounce of finesse or power. He somehow managed to block Julian’s swing, but he no longer seemed to know what he was doing.
Christian smiled.
The sound of clanking steel carried through Eleisha’s ears and into her consciousness. She moaned softly.
What had happened?
The last thing she remembered was Christian’s elbow coming toward her face.
Opening her eyes, she used both arms to try to push herself up, but the floor beneath her looked blurry… It was the dining room floor.
Everything came rushing back. She’d been holding Julian telepathically. Where was he? The sound of clanking echoed in her ears again, and she looked up. The first things she saw were Christian’s legs. Her gaze moved upward. He was standing just a few feet away from her, beside the table, and he was smiling.
Then she looked beyond him, and she wanted to gasp, but no sound came from her mouth. Julian was swinging a sword at Philip near the open doorway leading out from the dining room into the house. But there was something wrong with Philip, and he seemed barely able to block Julian, much less take a swing. He was nothing like the graceful fighter she knew. He was clumsy and stumbling…and confused.
Eleisha blinked hard, fighting to clear her head.
Why was Christian just standing there and watching? Why wasn’t he helping? Why was he smiling? He looked so pleased that her stomach tightened. She had to help Philip. Trying to gather herself, she began calling on her strength to send a command into Julian’s mind, anything to stop him.
Then Julian made a roundhouse swing with the point of his blade and slashed Philip across the chest, cutting through his clothes and flesh. Dark blood sprayed outward and began running down Philip’s chest.
The command forming in Eleisha’s mind vanished.
“No!” she screamed.
At the sound of Eleisha’s cry, Julian froze. Then he whirled around. She was awake, up on all fours, staring at Philip in horror.
Julian still felt lost, even dazed with rage. He could see that she was in shock from the sight of Philip stumbling backward, bleeding, struggling to keep on his feet.
But he knew her shock would fade any second, and she’d send a command to freeze his body again, imprison his mind in a telepathic attack, and trap him in his own nightmares. He couldn’t go through that, not now, not ever…and his gift was broken.
As much as he wanted her to continue in her mission, after what she’d done to him only a few moments ago, he couldn’t risk the chance of her entering his mind.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, he ignored Philip and started toward her.
Christian’s delight at the sight of Philip’s blood was short-lived.
Almost instantly, he heard Eleisha screaming, “No!” and he looked down to see her fully awake, staring at the scene. At first, he merely found this unfortunate.
But then Julian whirled around, and Christian saw his eyes.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, Julian strode across the dining room straight for Eleisha, and Christian had only seconds to act. He was a master of reading faces, and he was certain Eleisha was about to lose her head.
That would ruin everything.
With no time to summon an impulse and send it into Julian’s mind, Christian rushed forward and wrapped his foot around Julian’s ankle.
Julian had been so focused on Eleisha that he tripped and stumbled, leaning down. Without another thought, Christian jerked his sword up high and arced it back downward at Julian’s throat.
The blade was sharp, and as it connected, it sliced through the back of Julian’s neck, continued through, and severed his head. The heavy body in the black coat landed with a thud right before his head bounced once with a wet sound, and rolled across the dining room floor.
Eleisha’s face twisted into an emotion he couldn’t read, and she seemed beyond speech. Black blood poured from the stump of Julian’s neck, spreading outward, moving between her fingers, spreading toward her knees. She let out a cry that reminded Christian of a rabbit being strangled.
But her shock was even greater now than when she’d watched as Philip’s chest was sliced open, and Christian knew he had to act quickly—and kill Philip before she came back to herself.
Then he could tell her anything he wanted and use his gift to reinforce his story.
Philip was weaving slightly and still bleeding. But his eyes were starting to clear, and Christian knew he’d have to put a stop to that.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, he summoned an impulse to daze Philip again, and he was just ready to send it when Wade came running into the dining room, holding an automatic pistol with both hands and pointing it straight at Christian.
“Don’t move!” he ordered, and then he stunned Christian further by saying, “And if I feel anything, anything I wouldn’t normally feel, start coming into my head, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”
Philip was standing straight now, taking in the sight of Julian’s headless body and Eleisha on the floor kneeling in his blood…the sight of Wade and the gun.
Wade glanced at his friend’s bleeding chest and said, “Christian tried to kill me. He told Ivory to do it.”
Philip’s head was clearing rapidly, and he was on guard now, just watching Christian.
But Julian’s body was lying on the floor, his severed head a few feet away, and Philip was still waiting for the psychic explosion that always happened when a vampire died, when the vampire’s telepathic energy burst out, striking any other telepath in the vicinity.
But it never came.
With revulsion, Philip remembered what had happened during the fight with Julian, how he’d believed himself weak…how he’d forgotten how to use his sword. Then Wade’s last few sentences echoed in his ears.
“Wade,” he said slowly, “if you see me doing anything I wouldn’t normally do, shoot him anyway.”
The course of events was beginning to take shape now, and he realized Christian had gone to great lengths to get rid of both him and Wade. Why?
“What is it you want?” he said.
Christian’s face was tight, as if he was uncertain what to do next. He didn’t answer but glanced down once at Eleisha.
Eleisha.
He wanted her.
Wade must have seen the glance, too, because he moved in, holding the gun higher. “Back up,” he ordered. “I know this won’t kill you, but it hurts, and I swear it’ll put you down.”
“Where’s Ivory?” Philip asked him. He was taking everyone except Christian and leaving this house right now.
“Gone,” Wade answered, and his voice wavered slightly. “She’s already run off on her own.”
“Gone?” Christian mouthed in disbelief.
Philip was still bleeding and his chest hurt, but he refused to let it show. Eleisha seemed to have lost herself, and she was just kneeling there in Julian’s blood, staring at his dead body. He knew she wasn’t mourning him. She’d known full well what the endgame was for tonight. But still…it was hard to look at the dead body of one’s maker. He’d been through that a long time ago, and he still remembered it.
He had to get her out of here.
A threat that might work against Christian had occurred to him the night before, and he decided to use it.
“We’re leaving,” he said coldly, “and you will
never come near Eleisha again.” He stepped forward with the machete gripped lightly in his hand.
But his manner seemed only to bring Christian back to himself, inciting him to fall back into his normal haughty tone. “Or what? You’ll take my head? I don’t think she’d approve of that.”
“No,” Philip answered, shaking his head. “I’ll tell Vera you’re a fake. I’ll tell everyone she knows. I’ll tell Randall Smith at the Seattle Times. I’ll tell them exactly how you do it, and if I have to, I’ll show them myself. I’ll expose myself as telepathic, and I’ll tell them you’ve never spoken to a single ghost, ever. Such a story takes on a life of its own. Even the rumor of such a thing would ruin you.”
Christian stared at him.
Philip backed toward Eleisha, keeping his eyes on Christian. “We’re leaving,” he repeated. “Don’t follow us.”
With blood soaking through his shirt, he reached down to grasp Eleisha’s arm.
“Come with me.”
She let him pull her up without protest. But then she looked from his bleeding chest over to Christian.
As Christian locked eyes with Eleisha, he still couldn’t believe what was happening. Reaching out with his mind, he called, Ivory?
But she was gone. He couldn’t feel her anywhere.
Philip began leading Eleisha from the room, and Wade was backing away with the gun still aimed at Christian’s head.
So now… Christian was about to lose Eleisha as well. After what she’d just seen and heard, he might have lost her already, but if he could just talk to her, if he could just get her alone, he knew he could make her understand. If he could just make her stay with him, he’d find a way to stop Philip from making good on his threat.
But he had to keep her with him. She was to be his new conduit, and he couldn’t play the game without her.
If he gave up now, all was lost.
Focusing on the back of her head, he gathered an impulse and sent it.
You can’t just leave him like this. No matter what’s happened, you have to say good-bye. Talk to him. Just give him five minutes and talk to him alone.
She whirled around, pulling her arm from Philip’s grip. Instead of looking at Christian with guilt and sympathy, her hazel eyes were blazing.
Freeze!
The mental command hit him full force, and every muscle in his body went rigid. In blind terror, he realized he couldn’t move.
Fall! Backward.
As if of its own volition, his body fell back onto the floor. He heard light footsteps on the floor, and then he saw her leaning over him. He lay there, frozen.
“I won’t let Philip take your head,” she said quietly. “But if you follow us, if you ever come near us again, I’ll have Wade put six bullets in your face.”
She raised her head, and he thought perhaps she was taking one last look at Julian’s body. Then he heard her light footsteps heading away again. Within a few moments, control began returning to his body, but he didn’t try to follow her.
He was all alone now, and he knew it.
It was a strange feeling.
By the time Eleisha followed Wade down into Vera’s long garage, he’d stowed his gun and he was half dragging Philip.
Eleisha knew Philip was losing too much blood, and they had to do something to help him quickly. But the same phrase kept turning over and over in her mind.
Julian’s dead.
Julian’s dead.
Julian’s dead.
She didn’t know what to feel.
“Grab the keys to the Mercedes,” Wade ordered, half carrying Philip toward the car.
Eleisha ran to the pegs on the wall and grabbed the keys, but she had no idea what he was doing.
“Unlock it,” he said.
She hit the button on the key chain and then watched him drag Philip into the backseat.
“You drive,” he said.
Still confused, she ran around to the driver’s door and climbed in. “Are we stealing one of Vera’s cars?” she asked. “What if Christian calls the police?”
Philip was stretched out on the seat, turning white, and Eleisha realized she was babbling out of sheer panic. But Wade stripped off his sport coat and started rolling up his sleeve. “Just drive,” he said. “I know the code for the front gate. Take us back to our hotel, and we’ll leave this car there and switch to our rental.”
Leaning over Philip, he put his wrist into Philip’s mouth. “Bite down.”
And then suddenly everything seemed to make sense. Wade was going to heal Philip, and she would drive them to their car, and they would all go home. Turning around, she put the keys into the ignition.
Wade gasped, and she knew Philip had bitten down.
But Wade was focused on his task, and she focused on hers. She was going to take them home.
Mary did exactly as Christian had instructed, and she waited outside until everything was over. He’d told her that he could handle the situation so long as she got Julian to the patio, and she’d believed him.
In her life and in her death, she’d never met anyone as confident as Christian.
She waited outside for what seemed like forever, wondering if she should materialize inside and find out if Julian was dead. She had no mixed feelings about this. He’d killed Jasper without a thought, and he deserved to die.
The thought of Jasper filled her with longing. She knew he’d be waiting for her on the gray plane and she’d finally get to see him again tonight. He wouldn’t be alone anymore, and neither would she. She’d miss this world, with all its life and color, but she missed him more, and Christian had promised he’d send her back. Mary hadn’t seen Seamus since last night, but she figured he’d had to go back to Portland for a short while. For some reason, that made her a little sad. He’d been nice to her, nicer than anyone besides Jasper. She probably wouldn’t see him again and wished she could have at least said good-bye.
A creaking sound, like a garage door opening, reached her, and she looked toward the house. A few minutes later, the front gates opened, and a Mercedes pulled out of the courtyard and onto the road. Who was leaving? And why?
Confused, Mary reached out with her senses, and she felt two black holes in the fabric of life. Two of the vamps were leaving? She wanted to get close enough to see who it was, but she hesitated until she had a better idea of what was going on.
Blinking out, she cautiously rematerialized on the patio and peered inside. There was no movement in the dining room, but a familiar black coat and a sword lay on the floor. She floated in and kept looking down.
Julian.
His body was beginning to dry out and harden and turn to dust. He was dead.
Good.
She’d held up her end of the bargain. Now it was time for Christian to hold up his. But where was he? And who had just left in that car? Focusing her senses again, she felt a presence—or lack of a presence, in the living room. Blinking out, she blinked back in to see Christian sitting on a couch in the darkness. He looked odd, almost ill.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He didn’t jump in surprise or alarm but simply raised his weirdly clear eyes to her face. He didn’t seem to recognize her—or even care that she was there. The first hint of anxiety began growing inside her.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, hoping to make him snap out of…whatever this was.
“Gone,” he answered.
“Where?”
He seemed annoyed now. “It doesn’t matter.”
Something was very wrong here.
Almost frightened, she floated closer, pitching her voice to sound matter-of-fact. “Well… Julian’s dead. I just saw his body in the dining room. So now you can send me back. I did what you asked. It’s your turn.”
She couldn’t wait to see Jasper, to assure him she’d been trying her hardest to reach him again.
Christian didn’t move. His eyes glowed in the darkness.
“My turn for what?” he asked.
A
nxiety turned to fear. “Get up,” she ordered. “You promised you’d send me to the gray plane if I helped you kill Julian. Julian’s dead. So you send me back. Now!”
The expression on his cold, emotionless face shifted, and unfortunately, Mary had seen that look before…on her own face in a mirror back when she’d been alive. He was hurt and angry and alone, and he wanted to hurt someone else.
She knew that look all too well.
“You stupid girl,” he spat, standing up. “Do you really believe I know anything about the spirit world? I’d never even seen a ghost until your Scottish friend showed up a few nights ago.”
She went numb. “But the books… You said you’d read the books… You knew the—”
“The titles?” he sneered. “Of course I know those titles. I have to be able to talk the talk. But I’m a master of reading fools, of dazzling clueless mortals, not of dabbling in nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” she choked, trying to get her head around what he was saying. “So… Julian’s dead, and you can’t send me back?”
“Afraid not, my dear. But I do thank you for the assistance tonight. It was appreciated.”
“You bastard!”
Seamus had promised he wouldn’t let Christian use her, and then he’d agreed that Eleisha would never let Christian go back on his word. But they weren’t here.
She rushed at Christian, wanting to scream into his face, but he just stood there, watching her pain, enjoying the moment. He’d really wanted to hurt someone tonight.
And he had.
chapter eighteen
Almost four hours after they left the mansion, Wade watched the familiar street sign as Eleisha made the last turn toward the church.
He was weak from having fed Philip, but although Philip’s chest wasn’t completely healed, the wound had closed up, and he’d stopped bleeding. Wade was well aware they both looked like death warmed over, though, and Eleisha kept casting concerned glances at them in the rearview mirror.
“Philip’s going to need more blood soon,” she said. “I’ll figure something out. But, Wade, as soon as we’re home, I’ll defrost a steak and you can tell me how to cook it. You need food.”