“We are of the Unseen; you said it yourself. Don’t you see, Duncan, why it would be possible, then?” She stood and glided off the platform to stand in front of him, blocking him from pacing, and stroked her hand down his forearm to clasp his hand. Her slender hand felt frail curled around his, but he knew she had preternatural strength equal to or perhaps even greater than his. She’d never told him her age, but he knew she was old. Much older than he was. He had never underestimated her and he wasn’t about to now.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“If we are animated by the Unseen, then Eduardo can be brought back. Returned to me as if our enemies had never taken him away. And he can celebrate their demise with me.”
“But why, Maddalene?” He kept his voice gentle and let some of his confusion show through. “He’s been gone a year now. I thought you’d come to terms with his true death.”
Her eyes snapped with heat. “Never. I will never accept his true death. He is my mate, Duncan. My partner.” She dropped his hand and returned to her chaise. As she settled on it, she waved one hand in dismissal. “And you will assist in his return.”
He ground his jaw. There was no talking to her when she went into her regal mode. He’d have to find another way. With a bow of his head, he turned and left the room. As he entered the empty hallway, he frowned. Where were the two guards he’d assigned to his quarters? He ran the few yards to his door and flung it open. He roared at what he saw.
Three emaciated vampires surrounded Kimber, Natalie, and Bishop. Kimber held one of the fire pokers, Bishop had taken up a burning log, and Natalie had her short sword. They appeared unharmed and relief mingled with his rage.
At Duncan’s entry the vampires turned and shrunk back from him. “These humans are here under my protection,” he said as he stalked forward. He curled his fingers into his palms. “Get out.”
They hesitated. One of them eyed Kimber and ran his tongue over his cracked lips. “But the queen told us—”
Duncan snarled, showing his fangs, and grabbed the vamp. With a quick wrench he broke the vampire’s neck and let the body fall. The broken neck would heal, but with the vampire as underfed as he was it would take a long time. Duncan looked at the other two. “Would either of you care to tell me what the queen said?” When they shook their heads, he motioned to the body on the floor. “Take your friend and get out. And from now on my quarters are off limits to you.”
“Yes, sir.” They grabbed their fallen comrade beneath his arms and dragged him out of the room.
Duncan looked at Kimber and the others. “Let’s get out of here.”
Bishop tossed the log back into the fireplace, though Kimber held on to the poker. Her hatchet still hung from one of her belt loops. The three humans followed Duncan out of the room and exited the complex without question. Once they were near the front gates, Kimber asked, “What the hell was that all about? I thought you said we’d be safe there.”
His jaw tightened but he didn’t respond.
Kimber grabbed his arm. “Duncan. You said we’d be safe.”
When he looked at her, he knew his eyes had gone silver with rage, knew that his irises were rimmed with crimson. Not all of it was fury. Some of it was good old-fashioned lust, the desire to take his woman and claim her, to pierce her with fangs and cock. “I will die before I let something happen to you.” His voice was guttural, nearly inhuman.
Damn Maddalene. Damn her and her ill-advised quest. Damn his own need. He would protect Kimber from the other vampires, but who would protect her from him?
Chapter Five
So what did Maddalene say?” Kimber asked Duncan, keeping her voice low as they made their way back to the apartment complex. It was still dark, though the moon was bright enough that they didn’t need to use their flashlights. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Natalie and Bishop were still right behind them.
Duncan shook his head and refused to answer her question.
She frowned up at him. “What, it’s top secret?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
“Frickin’ vampires,” she responded in a grumble. She glanced at him. “Did she really mean for those vamps to chow down on us, or was she just showing me that they could?”
“It was a demonstration of power.” His green eyes glittered with shards of vampire silver. “She wouldn’t dare harm someone I’ve placed under my protection.”
She stared at him. “Are you sure about that? Because that wasn’t the impression I got.” She started to say more but stopped when he held up a hand. Then she heard them. Zombies. A lot of them.
The sound they made was like the air escaping from rotted bagpipes. Dull and monotonous, a broken sound, an unnatural sound, and it was getting louder. Closer.
Shit.
They were still at least a mile away from her apartment building, and at least that far from the vampire conclave. Caught in the middle, two directions they could go, and from the sound of things they were going to have to fight their way through zombies regardless of which way they headed. She caught Duncan’s glance. “My place,” she whispered even as she knew she had to let the others give their input. But she sure as hell wasn’t ready to head back into vamp city to be subjected to another demonstration of just how easily she and her friends could become vampire Slurpees.
She sidled up next to Duncan, pressed against the side of the old headquarters of a bank. A tattered and faded poster from the CDC stuck to the brick. Some bastard had had a sense of humor, plastering a Don’t be a zombie, be prepared poster on the wall. The CDC had put those together for fun, and at the time Kimber had appreciated the sense of humor. She didn’t so much now.
She peered around the corner of a building. At least twenty, maybe as many as thirty zombies shuffled forward, mouths wide open, arms outstretched. Rotting remnants of clothing hung from emaciated, decaying flesh. Their putrid stench was overpowering, filling her nose. Bile rose in her throat.
Swallowing, she battled back the urge to vomit and glanced over her shoulder. God. At least as many of the undead shufflers were coming up from behind them. She glanced at Natalie and jerked her head to direct her friend’s attention behind them.
“Oh, my God,” the other woman whispered. “Where’s that damn fairy and his mighty sword when you need him?” Her gaze darted over the horde. Face paling, she gasped. “Ohgodohgodwe’regonnadie.”
Bishop’s jaw flexed. “Leave the hysterics up to me, would you? I’ve got it down to a science.” His voice never wavered from the calm, collected tones he was known for.
Duncan raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment.
Kimber did her best to ignore the antics of both of them. “We either head forward to the safety of the apartment,” she whispered, “or go back to Maddalene’s.”
“I vote to go forward,” Bishop muttered. His hard gaze suggested he was as unwilling to provide a meal for the hungry vamps as she was.
“Me, too,” Natalie said softly.
Duncan blew out a sigh. “Let’s go, then.” His silvered eyes flicked to each of them. “Stay close. Do not get separated from the group.”
Facing a horde alone was almost certainly a death sentence. The old adage “safety in numbers” had never been truer than it was in the zombie apocalypse.
They moved forward as a cohesive unit. With Duncan in the lead, they cut a swath through the horde in front. At one point Kimber became trapped against the rusted frame of an old Buick, holding a female zombie away with stiffened arms against the emaciated shoulders, unable to bring the fire poker up to defend herself.
Duncan yanked the zombie away from Kimber and drove his crowbar through the undead thing’s forehead. He let the body drop to the ground and grabbed Kimber’s hand. “Stop fucking around,” he muttered.
She shot him a glare. “Give me a break. It’s not like I was playing with her.”
One corner of his sensual mouth kicked up in a grin. God. Even with zom
bies all around, his good looks made her breath hitch in her throat. Not now, Kimber.
Grumbling, she rushed the next zombie and the next, until they were down to only about half a dozen between them and the safety of the apartment complex. She glanced behind her to see those zombies were still shuffling forward. “Let’s make tracks, people,” she yelled.
Bishop dispatched a zombie and, as the body fell, he shouted, “Hoo-frickin’-yah!”
Duncan and Natalie took out a zombie each. Kimber shoved the fire poker through the eye of another one, cursing when the hooked end got hung up in the skull. Muttering another flaming cuss word, she let go of the poker and slid her hatchet from her belt.
She took out another shuffler and was just starting to look around to check on Bishop when she heard him cry out. She whirled to see him holding a zombie away from him with one arm, but another of the creatures had latched onto the opposite shoulder with its teeth. Blood stained his shirt, the material ripped. Even from where she was she could see the zombie’s teeth embedded deep into the muscles of Bishop’s shoulder.
Oh, God.
As Kimber rushed forward, the zombie jerked its head, ripping away a mouthful of Bishop’s flesh. Kimber screamed. She plunged her hatchet into its forehead and pulled the dead thing off him just as Duncan took out the second one. From her peripheral vision she saw Natalie stab her short sword upward through the mouth of the final zombie standing between them and safety.
Duncan threw Bishop over his shoulder. “Come on!” He took off in a loping run, not using his vampire speed so that Kimber and Natalie could keep up with him.
No one said a word until they had latched the outer gate of the apartment complex behind them and Duncan gently set Bishop on the ground, leaning him back against the side of the apartment building. Bishop’s face was gray, his mouth taut with pain. Eyes closed, his breath came in labored pants.
Kimber dropped to her knees beside him. “Carson…”
His eyes fluttered open. “It must be bad.” His grin was more of a grimace and it broke her heart. “You’ve never used my first name before.”
She blinked back tears. She wasn’t going to lose him, damn it. Too many people, good people, had died, and it was all her fault. Her throat closed up, the guilt bubbling up in the form of bitter bile.
No! Carson Bishop wasn’t going to be another name added to the list of people who were dead because of her. Hell, no.
“Kimber, you know what needs to be done.” Duncan’s deep voice rasped from behind her, and she realized he’d knelt behind her.
“No.” Her voice cracked, the sound as brittle as broken glass.
“Honey…” Natalie went to her knees on Bishop’s other side. She took Bishop’s hand in hers before her gaze went back to Kimber. “He’s gonna turn.”
Kimber shook her head. A tear plopped onto her cheek and began a slow glide down her face.
“She’s right.” Bishop’s voice wavered. His Adam’s apple bobbed with his hard swallow. Sweat beaded on his forehead, above his mouth. “I already have a fever and my joints are starting to ache. It’s just a matter of time before I’m dead, and then…” His mouth thinned. Eyes dark with dread, he said, “I’ll turn into one of them.” He jerked his head to where a few zombies pressed against the metal fencing that surrounded the complex. “I don’t want you—any of you—to see me like that. Kill me now.”
“No!” Kimber swiped her face. “I can fix this. Fix you.”
Duncan put one hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, there isn’t a cure.”
Kimber shrugged off his hand. She wasn’t going to lose her friend. She just wasn’t. She put a hand on Bishop’s shoulder, just to one side of the injury, and closed her eyes. With a deep breath, she reached for the Unseen. She’d never done it before without first setting a circle of blood, but she was desperate. Bishop’s own bloody wound might be enough. It would have to be enough. She refused to let him die.
“Kimber…” Duncan’s voice trailed off.
The fine hairs on the back of her neck lifted as the power of the Unseen surged into her. Good. That was good. She kept her hand on Bishop’s shoulder and concentrated on his wound. “I started this, Duncan, six months ago when I tapped into the Unseen and animated Richard Whitcomb. What if I can reverse it?” She blinked her burning eyes, refusing to let any more tears fall. “I have to try.”
“You have tried before, without success. Right after the Outbreak happened, then a month later, and a month after that.” He paused then added softly, “Sweetheart, there’s nothing you can do for him.”
The compassion in his voice ate at her composure and a sob broke out before she ruthlessly forced her emotions back. “I have to try,” she said again, her voice rasping with the truth she refused to acknowledge. She ground her teeth, the muscles in her jaw aching with the strain.
“Kimber, Duncan’s right,” Bishop whispered. “I can’t feel my legs. You know how this progresses. I only have a few minutes.”
“No!” She fixed her attention on the Unseen again, and it surged into her in a rush that stole her breath. She pushed it toward the wound on Bishop’s shoulder, could almost see the energy flow over his skin, into the bite marks. It swirled into his muscles, making him cry out in agony. As the energy continued to crash over her in undulating waves, she couldn’t contain her own moan of pain. As nerve endings enflamed and muscles screamed with tension, she closed her eyes to shut off at least one of her senses.
Then, bit by bit, she began to draw the energy away from Bishop and direct it back into the Unseen. Hit by this much power, the muscles along her back, her thighs and calves, seized up in one big, vicious cramp. She gasped but kept drawing the energy from Bishop, doing her best to ignore the increasing torment. From behind her closed lids red hazed her vision, then black, and dots of light began floating through the darkness.
Vaguely she heard Duncan and Natalie calling her name. Her hand clutched Bishop’s shoulder in a spasm. Even through the physical pain, she could feel that what she was doing was working. The Unseen was withdrawing, taking the supernatural venom of the zombie’s bite from Bishop. Just a little more. Just a little…
Her heart stuttered. The floating dots multiplied and then winked out like candles snuffed by a fierce wind. Her pulse thundered in her ears then slowed, sounding like thick sludge sliding down a drain.
Suddenly she was knocked away from Bishop. “No!” she screamed, opening her eyes to see Duncan’s face, his eyes blazing with silver fire. “I’m not done.” She reached for Bishop again.
Duncan whirled her away from the wounded man and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his big hands holding her wrists, keeping her arms bent in front of her. For all his gentleness, she couldn’t break free.
“Let me go.” She struggled anyway. “I need to help Bishop.”
“He’s beyond your help, sweetheart.” Duncan rested his cheek against the top of her head. With his next words his breath stirred her hair. “He’s beyond anyone’s help now. He’s gone.”
She couldn’t stop the tears now. “No…” She slumped in his embrace. Her body burned—eyes stinging with tears, muscles blazing with tension, mind flaming with yet another failure. A personal one this time. With a surge of strength she twisted in his arms and slapped him. “Why did you stop me? It was working. I could have saved him.” Her voice broke on a sob. She lifted her hand and slapped him again, harder this time. His head turned with the force of the hit, but when he looked down at her she saw no anger, no condemnation for her action. Just tender sadness and understanding.
“It was killing you,” came Natalie’s soft, sorrowful voice.
Kimber looked at her friend, who nodded.
“Your heart stopped beating twice,” Duncan murmured. The reddened imprint of her fingers against his cheek showed starkly against his skin before it faded. “It started up on its own, but then your blood pressure shot up and then dropped so low…” He cleared his throat. “If I hadn’t pulled you a
way, you would have died. And that I’m not prepared to let happen.”
“But…” She stared down at Bishop. His sightless eyes gazed at nothing, and as she watched tiny flecks of color began swirling in his irises. Already the small bit of the Unseen left in him was gathering strength, readying his body to be transformed into one of the walking dead.
She’d failed. Again. And this time it had mattered, more than at any other time. She’d started it and once again she’d been unable to stop it.
Everything inside her shut down. Her hearing became muffled, her vision clouded, her body went numb. The brief realization that she was in shock rolled through her thoughts before those, too, went blessedly silent.
“Natalie,” she heard Duncan murmur. She saw the crowbar gripped in his hand and knew what he was going to do.
Kimber felt Natalie put an arm around her waist, drawing her away. She made a sound of protest, something like a grunt or maybe it was closer to a whimper, but couldn’t find the strength to fight the sympathetic hold. Her head felt light, like it would float away, and her legs and arms shook with little tremors. With a final glance at Bishop’s face, those lifeless, staring eyes, she let Natalie lead her away.
* * *
Duncan closed the door of Kimber’s apartment behind him and flipped the lock. Without looking at the two women, he headed toward the bathroom. Once he’d cleaned himself up and wiped the blood off the crowbar, he went back into the living room where Kimber and Natalie sat on the sofa. They’d both kicked off their shoes. “It’s done,” he said, knowing they had both realized what he’d been about to do, knowing he didn’t need to tell them, but still he’d felt the need to say it out loud.
Natalie gave a brief nod and stood. “I’m going to clean up and go to bed.” She glanced at Kimber. “I won’t use all the hot water, I promise.”
Kimber didn’t respond to the mellow joke. Natalie met his eyes, hers filled with concern.
“I’ll take care of her,” he promised.
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