Deceived: Bitter Harvest, Book One

by Ann Gimpel

  Viktor caught up easily and ran by Juan’s side. “We have to stop at Arkady and make certain Ketha and the other Shifters know what’s happened.”

  The harsh planes of Juan’s face softened, and he looked more like the man he’d been than a beautiful monster. “You really do care about her.”

  “More than that. I’m falling in love with her.”

  “Vampires can’t love anything beyond blood, but I’m happy for you, amigo.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t pay better attention during our indoctrination.” Viktor shrugged.

  “Yeah. If I’d known ignorance would slow the transformation, I’d have tuned the propaganda out too.”

  “You’re impossible.” Viktor grinned and mock-slugged his friend in the shoulder.

  Juan feinted left and punched back before taking off at Mach 10. “First stop. Arkady.”

  “Thanks. If we get lucky, Ketha’s already well on her way to safety.” Viktor hoped he was right. He exhorted every deity he’d ever prayed to, to keep her safe until he could take over that job.

  By the time they entered the dry dock by its main door, he’d tried to reach her multiple times telepathically, but she hadn’t answered. He stopped inside the building and gazed at Arkady, looming above them in the middle of the windowless structure.

  “Ketha’s not here,” he told Juan. “We don’t have to waste time climbing aboard the ship.”

  “How do you know she’s not using magic to shield herself?” Juan sent a sidelong glance his way.

  Viktor pressed his lips together. “I know her energy signature. It’s here, but it’s not fresh. She left at least an hour ago. Maybe two. And she sprinkled a whole lot of magic about to conceal she’d been here at all.”

  “If that’s true, how can you feel her energy?” Juan’s nostrils flared. “If I didn’t know she’d been here, I’d have missed her scent.”

  Viktor shrugged. “It’s a fair question, but not one I can answer.”

  Worry filled him, and his gut twisted uncomfortably. With all the Vampires Raphael had unleashed, Ketha’s odds of reaching the mesa weren’t great. Travel above ground would be more direct, but he raced for the manhole cover.

  “Faster if we stick to the streets.” Juan mirrored Viktor’s thoughts.

  “Yeah. I know, but Ketha went this way. I’m sure of it. She’d want to hide herself as long as she could within the tunnels. If something unspeakable happens, maybe we’ll get there in time to interrupt it.”

  Juan barreled down the ladder after him. “No one’s going to hurt her,” he said. “No one would risk it.”

  Viktor wasn’t so certain. Raphael’s instructions had been to deliver Ketha to him, but Vampire loyalty was far from a sure thing. Tonight proved many of their ilk hated their sire. He sheathed his fears and bolted down corridors, relieved when her scent drew him onward. An array of smells collided near the exit point. Three Vamps and Ketha.

  “Crap! This might not be good. Even I can smell her here.” Juan gave voice to Viktor’s fears, his nostrils twitching as he sought further clues.

  Not wanting to take time to answer, Viktor hurtled up the ladder. When he located traces of Ketha in the bone-littered alleyway, he was so relieved, breath left him in great, gulping gasps.

  Juan skidded to a halt next to him. “She made it this far, mi amigo.”

  “Indeed she did.” Viktor laid on the afterburners, intent on finding Ketha before anyone else did.

  Chapter Twelve: Escape Made Good

  Ketha was breathing hard by the time she extricated her pack from the bramble thicket. It took far longer than she would’ve liked, but at least she’d managed not to open any new wounds on her hands or body. Places that would leave telltale blood. Back on the path, she shouldered her pack and trudged uphill. Dawn was breaking, and she prayed it would scatter sunlight over Ushuaia.

  The book had suggested she’d make the mesa before daylight hit, and she would have if it hadn’t been for the last batch of Vamps.

  She had zero magic left. Remaining hidden, healing her cuts, and wiping out all traces of her blood had sapped her. Nothing she could do about it but keep moving uphill. What it meant, though, was she’d be helpless if she ran into another pack of Vampires intent on turning her over to Raphael.

  Don’t think about it.

  I can rest and recharge once I get to the mesa.

  Light brightened around her, leaving her naked and exposed. She bit hard on her lower lip, relying on pain to pull her tattered emotions together. Vamp vision was actually sharper at night, so even if she didn’t feel safer without darkness to shield her, she was. Fatigue dragged at her, but she plodded upward.

  One step at a time.

  Where the hell was the sticker bush that had blocked Viktor’s progress? When he’d described it, it sounded like a hop, skip, and a jump away from the cells.

  “That’s because he moves way faster than me,” she mumbled.

  Warmth flooded her back, and she turned, squinting against the globe of the sun cresting the horizon. Ketha held out her hands, flexing half-frozen fingers. She hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. Its presence revived her, and she started uphill again. After two more switchbacks, the bramble copse that had stymied Viktor rose before her.

  Ketha whistled long and low. Shifters appreciated nature, but she’d never seen a sticker bush of any kind anywhere near as substantial as this one. It extended at least twenty feet across the trail, completely blocking progress. Climbing around it looked impossible since it extended both up and down the steep mountainside as far as she could see.

  The scent of water tickled her nostrils, and she understood what sustained the bush’s growth. A stream, no doubt from the mesa, trickled down the mountain, feeding the luxuriant shrub. With thirst driving her, she wasted precious moments hunting for a break in the thorns where she could punch a hand through to cup water. There wasn’t one. Wherever water flowed, the spine-coated bush flourished. Absent a stout pair of leather gloves, smashing through the branches would have opened fresh wounds. Something she couldn’t risk.

  Viktor had said to go up. She craned her neck, searching for a path on the rocky slope stretching above her. Nothing jumped out looking through her human eyes, and she had no power to scratch beneath the surface. No power to shift, either. No help for it. She’d have to pick her way and hope for the best. The slope was impossibly steep, but it was the last obstacle between her and the mesa.

  She couldn’t stop here, and going down would be suicide. Vampires would find her.

  She’d confront plenty of problems between now and facing off against the Cataclysm’s foul magic, but none of those would matter if she couldn’t scale the near-vertical slope in front of her. Her thoughts strayed to the other Shifters. Most of them weren’t strong enough to tackle this climb without magic. Hell, Ketha wasn’t at all certain she was up to it.

  She did her damnedest to marshal her flagging resources to tell Rowana and the others to bring a rope, but the other Shifter didn’t answer. Probably because Ketha’s telepathic voice was too weak to punch through.

  Enough procrastination. Defeat wasn’t in her vocabulary, particularly not so close to a critical goal.

  Apparently, the wolf agreed because it growled, “Move. Now.”

  She set a foot on the mountainside above her, hoping the faint trail Viktor had alluded to would show itself. She looked up, but the top was so far away even thinking about it made no sense. Ketha narrowed her focus to finding footing that wouldn’t send her plummeting down the mountain in a welter of rock fall that might cut her to shreds.

  Blood would be her undoing. She had to keep all of it inside her body.

  The sun’s warmth that had felt welcome when it first hit her, made her sweat beneath her heavy robe. The garment, still damp from her escape from the underground tunnels, grew clammy and stuck to her back and breasts. Thirst dogged her, but she didn’t have any water. The heavy pack altered her center of gravity, and she
learned fast which moves worked and which threatened to unbalance her as she worked her way uphill.

  Magic would have helped, but she may as well wish for a fairy godmother. She halted, panting, after a car-sized rock that had looked secure—and felt secure when she tested it with a foot—careened downhill, almost taking her with it.

  Ketha leaned into the mountain, panting. The slope was growing steeper, and she was a long way from its crest. Viktor’s Vampire coordination, strength, and speed had served him well.

  Yeah. Too bad I don’t have any of those things.

  She started upward again, afraid if she remained still too long, fear would immobilize her. She was stuck. Going down would be as hard as continuing up. And far more dangerous. Since it was too steep to go straight up like she had been, she searched for patterns in the hillside that would allow her to mimic the switchbacks on the trail below.

  She sucked in a startled breath when she picked out a route. Maybe it had been there all along, and she was just now seeing it because she’d asked the right questions. Shrugging slightly, she angled right and found somewhat easier going. Magic was like that. You had to ask the proper questions to get the answers you needed. Since Shifter magic had its roots in nature, maybe this mountainside was structured a lot like her power.

  A soft laugh bubbled past her lips. She was really losing it, comparing this rough, rocky terrain to magic. “Whatever works,” she muttered and turned hard left onto a path she could suddenly make out. At least she was going somewhat faster than when she’d started up the steep grade.

  The sun had been up for a while by the time she reached the top, breathing as if she’d run a marathon. The last part hadn’t been all that hard, but time-consuming. Ketha pulled herself over the ridgeline. The mesa from her vision spread before her, and tears filled her eyes, tracking down her face. Half a dozen condors flew lazily, stretching their wings in bright sunlight. The mesa looked like paradise with sun glinting off pools at its far end.

  Pools meant water. Viktor had said it wasn’t tainted. Her dry-as-dust throat spasmed. Ketha stumbled down a gentle incline and crossed to a pool. Shrugging her pack off her shoulders, she lay on her belly and dropped her face into the water, drinking. The liquid laved her parched throat, tasting clean and pure. She drank until the dryness left her mouth, and then she drank some more. How the hell could the water up here have escaped contamination from below? She’d always assumed the toxic air and water were by-products of the Cataclysm. If that were so, all the air and all the water should be the same.

  Don’t kick a gift horse in the mouth.

  Ketha choked on a mouthful of water, laughing at her practical inner maven’s advice.

  She’d rolled into a sit, water dripping down her chin, when Viktor’s scent reached her. Ketha bolted to her feet, shielding her eyes from sunlight with one hand. Juan and Viktor appeared in the same low spot on the ridge she’d picked to finish her climb. She stared at them as they loped through bright sunlight. While she’d known the sun wouldn’t immobilize Vampires, she’d assumed it would have some effect.

  It didn’t. Not much, anyway.

  Fear for her sister Shifters twisted around her heart like a fist. She had to contact them. Warn them.

  Viktor reached her, his green eyes liquid with worry and caring. She opened her mouth to tell him how glad she was to see him, but he swept her into an embrace and crushed her against his chest, cradling her head in one big hand. Ketha wound her arms around him, reveling in the feel of him against her. Her throat thickened with a welter of conflicting emotions until words felt quite beyond her.

  She wanted him to hold her forever, but he was a Vampire. No matter how kind he was to her, or how attracted she was to him, their magnetism still held a Romeo and Juliet forbidden aspect, and she’d do well to steer clear of entanglements. Especially now with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. She told herself to let go, to move out of the protective circle his body formed around hers. Instead, she clung tighter.

  “I am so relieved you’re safe.” Viktor’s deep voice rumbled against her hair. “When we returned to Arkady and you weren’t there, I had more than a few anxious moments. You went to ground at the level of the cells, didn’t you?”

  Ketha nodded. “Vamps were in the cells, but they ran right by me.”

  “Thank Christ for that. I’d lay waste to the world if it meant keeping you safe.” Viktor’s arms were taut with tension where they circled her body, but his hands remained gentle, smoothing hair away from her face.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” she protested, her words muffled against his chest.

  “Doesn’t matter. That was then. Now you have me.”

  He sounded so possessive, and so unutterably male, she smothered a smile.

  “Are any other Shifters here yet?” Juan’s voice intruded, snapping Ketha back to reality.

  She wriggled out of Viktor’s embrace. “No. And that climb was horrible. At least it was for me. My magic’s depleted, and...” She shook her head, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m babbling.”

  “Why didn’t you shift?” Juan asked.

  “It requires a boatload of power. I’m tapped out.”

  “Can you reach your sisters telepathically?” Viktor asked, sounding worried.

  “I don’t know if I have enough power to light a candle, but I’ll try.” Ketha’s instincts, the ones that had nothing to do with her magic, sparked with dread. “What happened that they need to know about?”

  “Raphael’s dead—” Juan began.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Ketha cut in.

  “Yeah, it would be if another Vamp hadn’t killed him and then feasted on his blood,” Viktor said sourly.

  “Huh?” Ketha squared her tired shoulders. “What am I missing here?”

  “If a Vampire kills his sire, and then drinks his blood, the sire—in this case Raphael—gets a free ride back from death in a different body.”

  Understanding rocked Ketha backward on the balls of her feet. “Holy crap. That’s hideous. Did the Vampire know what he was doing?”

  “I’m sure he did.” Viktor frowned, looking sheepish. “I’m probably the only one who didn’t pay attention after Raphael turned us and gave us chapter and verse about the things we could and couldn’t do as Vampires.”

  “Any idea why?” Ketha persisted.

  “Why I didn’t pay attention? It was because I never wanted to be a Vampire.” Viktor shrugged uncomfortably. “I was weak, too enamored with staying alive, to refuse his wrist when he offered it.”

  “Not what I meant,” Ketha said. “Whoever killed Raphael must have hated him. Why would they offer him a hall pass to live again?”

  “Jorge is probably under the illusion he can harness Raphael’s power, add it to his own,” Viktor replied.

  A snorting grunt emerged from Juan. “Yup. I’m sure Jorge believes he can control the old bastard. By the time Raphael is done, whatever’s left of Jorge will be cut into ribbons and buried six feet under.”

  Ketha closed her teeth over her lower lip. “You’re going to have to help me here. Vamps can insert their spirit or their essence or whatever you want to call it into another body and permanently eradicate the body’s original owner?”

  “So long as you’re talking about two Vampires, yes,” Juan replied.

  “Something about being turned alters your soul’s hold on your body,” Viktor added. The corners of his mouth twisted downward. “I always figured no soul worth its salt wanted to share real estate with Vampire energy, so they’re ready to flee at a moment’s notice.”

  “So the part that was...Jorge”—Ketha stuttered, hunting for his name—“has been looking for an excuse to exit stage left ever since Jorge was turned.”

  “Probably,” Viktor agreed. “Having Raphael barge his way in almost guarantees whatever was left of Jorge isn’t there anymore, leaving the path clear for Raphael to take charge.”

  “It’s too bad
,” Juan said. “At one point, Jorge was a decent enough sort. He sold boat repair materials here in Ushuaia, and Viktor and I did quite a bit of business with him.”

  “Ketha!” flared bright in her mind.

  She looked from one Vampire to the other and held up a hand. “It’s one of my sisters. Hang on. I can hear her, which means I can probably talk as well.”

  “Rowana?” Ketha projected her mind voice, hoping it would get through.

  “Yes. Where are you?”

  “The mesa.”

  Rowana paused long enough, Ketha was afraid she’d run her lean supply of magic dry—again.

  “You still there?” she sent, and crossed her fingers a lack of power on her side wasn’t the problem.

  “Not only me. Six of us. How in the goddess’s name did you get up this mountainside? We’re at the bramble thicket, but even with magic, I fear it won’t be possible.”

  “I’m on my way. It’s not quite as impossible as it looks.” A thought struck her. “Can any of you shift?”

  Rowana hesitated. “We haven’t shifted for months. Now’s not the time to test it—unless we have to. It would run what magic we have left down to bedrock, and if it didn’t work, we’d be stuck.”

  “Hang on. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Ketha started for the far side of the mesa, intent on descending to help her sisters. Weariness dogged her, but at least she wasn’t thirsty anymore.

  Viktor caught her up easily. “What? Where are you going?”

  “The other Shifters, six of us anyway, can’t make the climb. They need me.”

  “Let us help them.” Juan loped to her other side. “It’s easy for us, and you look trashed.”

  Ketha grinned. “Never tell a woman she looks like shit.”

  “You’re beautiful,” Viktor broke in. “But Juan’s right about you looking tired. Please. Do whatever you need to so the other Shifters will accept us, and we’ll escort them up here.”

  Ketha sucked in a ragged breath, recognizing wisdom when she heard it. Question was whether her sisters would accept Vampire assistance.