by Jane Hinchey
Aston typed a few commands and another map appeared on the screen with a single red blinking dot.
"And here we have the lovely Veronica." He indicated the screen with his hand. Dainton and Heath crowded around to see the screen as well.
"Where is she?" Dainton queried. Anton zoomed the map in closer. Veronica was not at the safe house where they'd left her. She was two hundred miles to the west. Zak frowned. She hadn't been in contact with him to tell him of her movements, and while he hadn't forbidden her from leaving the safe house, it wasn't the norm for one of his own not to keep him abreast of their movements.
"Do we have any more intel on her?" he asked Frank. It bothered him that he had to ask them to investigate one of their own; it hurt, even more, to think that she had, or was intending, to betray them all.
"We don't have anything to connect her directly to Erik. Yet. She's damn good at hiding whatever it is she's up to. And for her to be able to hide it so effectively from you? Someone has to have taught her that trick."
"Her blocking technique is very effective," Zak agreed. Although he'd tried several times to read Veronica's secrets, she'd still maintained that wall that he just hadn't been able to breach. What saddened him the most was that she'd felt the need to learn how to block him. He respected his people's privacy and didn't intrude on their minds.
He knew Veronica's behavior hurt the warriors as well. She was their sister. If she was in trouble she could have turned to any one of them for help.
Zak took a seat at the conference table and listened as Frank updated them all on what they'd found on Veronica and Erik, which hadn't amounted to much. Lots of rumors, but nothing concrete. Aston turned on the television screen on the wall at the end of the table and hooked up his laptop. The screen flickered for a moment, and then they all saw a replication of Aston's laptop monitor. The picture on the screen was of Georgia's dagger.
"We do have news of the first blade though," Aston told them. "Dainton, care to share what you found out?"
Dainton leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table.
"It’s as we suspected. The blade has more of a role to play than simply awakening the ring."
Zak glanced down at the ring with its thin red line weaving around his finger.
"While the ring has the power to awaken the original, the dagger has the power to end his life permanently. The legends tell us he cannot be killed, and this is backed up by many trying but none succeeding. Until the spell that was cast on him, that took him to eternal slumber. Still, slumber is not death. The witch that cast the spell was very powerful, but as we know when dealing with magic, you have to have the balance. A loophole, if you will. So while her spell allows him to sleep, there is a loophole to awaken him, and a loophole to kill him."
"Can anyone use the blade?" Heath asked.
"Anyone can 'use' it," Dainton nodded, "but whoever activated it, and therefore the ring, is the one who would have to wield the death blow for it to work."
"So if I were to stab the original one in the heart with the blade, he would not die? It would have to be Georgia?" Aston queried.
"Correct. The dagger can be used in battle without any special powers, but when it comes to killing the original with it? It was Georgia's blood that awakened it, and only she can wield it to kill him."
"How did it come to be here?" Zak asked.
"Legend has it that after the spell was cast and the ring and dagger blessed, the dagger was taken by the younger sister of the witch and hidden. On her deathbed, that witch disclosed the location with the instructions that it was to be handed to another and hidden again and the cycle was to repeat itself. The dagger has changed hands many, many times, so the hiding place kept changing and the keeper of the dagger was soon lost track of. It soon became nothing more than folklore."
"What's the plan, Boss?"
"Protect the girls."
"I have an idea," Frank spoke up.
"Let's hear it."
"Train Georgia. Train her to be a warrior and to use the blade."
"No."
"You're leaving her vulnerable, Zak. That girl has moves; she'd be up for this. We've seen the various footage of her and the pub brawls over the years. She loves a good fight, why not train her, and make her a better fighter?"
"Why not ask her what she wants?" Anton spoke up.
"Yeah," they all conspired against him. Damn it.
16
Georgia jumped at the opportunity.
"Fight like a warrior? Shit yeah!" she practically bounced in front of him.
"We'll teach you to fight but only so you can protect yourself; you're not joining the Warriors. There's a difference," Zak growled at her, still not happy with the turn of events, even though he reluctantly admitted it made sense.
"You just don't want a girl on your team."
"I had a girl on my team. Didn't turn out so well."
"Oh yeah. HER." Georgia's lip curled in disgust. "Anyway, I don't want to be a WARRIOR, but if you can help me kick Erik's ass, I'm all in."
"Training will be...brutal. There will be pain, lots of it."
"Will you quit trying to talk me out of it," she sighed, exasperated. "Let's do this already."
They circled each other, knees bent. Georgia had watched the first couple of rounds Zak had demonstrated with Heath, now it was her turn. No problem, she had this. She knew his tells, how he'd feint to the left and then suddenly swing his leg out, sweeping her feet out from under her. Or when it looked like he was going for a body punch and head-butted her instead. Oh yeah, she knew what to look for. He thought he was going to have her down to the ground and pinned in a matter of seconds but Georgia had been a scrapper since she was a kid. He'd warned he wouldn't go easy on her and she wanted that, didn't want any special treatment, just needed the training required to take down a vampire without getting herself killed.
He came at her and she dodged, rolling to avoid the punch that should have connected with the side of her head. Missed! Surprise flashed through his eyes as he regained his balance and turned on her again. This time his left arm came toward her, aiming a fist at her stomach but she was ready for him, grabbing his fist with both hands and using it as leverage to jump when his leg swept under her. His own momentum sent him staggering away from her.
"Minx," he growled, lips twitching. She danced away, light on her feet.
He came at her again but she wasn't quite fast enough, his fist landing on her shoulder rather than jaw. She spun, her whole arm going numb. She wouldn't be surprised if her shoulder was dislocated. Zak stopped and straightened, frowning at her, opened his mouth to speak.
"Don't you dare fucking apologize!" she hissed, wiping sweat from her face. "Let's finish this!"
The guys cheered, watching from the sidelines as she danced and twirled, avoiding punches and kicks, landing a few of her own. Her shoulder wasn't dislocated and the feeling had come back in a rush of the most intense case of pins and needles she'd ever experienced.
She was tiring and drenched in sweat. She'd have been pissed if Zak had looked fresh as a daisy, but he was sporting a sheen of perspiration across his forehead. He hadn't landed her on her ass straight away, which filled her with pride, but she knew she wasn't going to be able to topple him. Not without fighting dirty. Just so happened 'fighting dirty' was her middle name.
She was panting, picking herself up from where she'd slid some ten feet away. Dusting herself off she eyed him. He watched her, eyes glinting. He'd learned her tells as well, but she'd bet he hadn't seen this move before. Closing in on him, she grabbed the bottom edge of her shirt and lifted, catching her bra as she went she flashed him, wiggling her breasts.
Crunch! Her fist connected with his nose. Whoomph. Another fist in the stomach as his hands had automatically flown to his face. Doubled over she brought her elbow down on the back of his neck, dropping him to his knees with a groan. She raised her foot, resting her boot against his shoulder and pushed, toppling h
im sideways.
A whoop went up around her. And she turned to face them, a grin on her face.
"You did it!" Cole cheered, high fiving her.
"Not bad for a human chick," from Dainton. High praise indeed.
Zak rolled to his feet, nose already healed. He was grinning at her, pride in his eyes.
"Good job." Little words, but she soaked them in, delighted. Who knew being such a hell raiser as a teenager would actually come in handy one day. As pleased as she was with her victory, the throbbing in her hand was making its presence felt.
"I think I broke something besides your nose." She held her hand up in front of her. Without hesitation, Zak covered her hand with his own. She hissed in a breath when the bones of three knuckles slipped back into place with an audible crack, but then the warm tingling started, erasing the pain and healing the bruised tissues.
The boys were amped up, so Zak tussled with them while Georgia took a break and got her breath back. Then it was on to training with knives. This time Zak had instructed Kyan to tutor her; he was the best among them when it came to blades.
Because her dagger was made of silver, and therefore deadly to vampires, Kyan gave her a substitute for practicing with, its blade made of steel. To get her used to handling the knife, he had her practice on a straw-filled hessian sack. Then it was throwing. Finally, what she'd been itching to try, live training.
She stood facing him now, breath rasping in and out of her lungs, skin sheened in sweat, but she would not back down. Crouched, knife held confidently in hand, she watched him. He was motionless before her, eerily so, but then she'd gotten used to that, it was a weird vampire thing. Her eyes scoured for his tell, a twitch or a blink that gave him away. There! That blink meant he was about to pounce. Just as he began to move she cut him off, leaping out of the way and slicing with the blade at the same time. The knife left a trail of red across his stomach and he looked down in surprise. She'd nailed him. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he mimicked her crouch. It was on like Donkey Kong. He pounced, she lunged and the dance continued, movements fast and fluid until suddenly he was on top of her and white-hot pain shot through her abdomen. Her hands clutched at her stomach and she felt wet stickiness ooze through her fingers.
"Ah fuck," Kyan cursed, springing up from her. They both looked to where the knife was protruding from her stomach, the scent of her blood filling the air.
"Georgia!" Zak roared, materializing by her side.
"Not his fault," she breathed, knowing Zak was going to have Kyan's hide for this.
"No? I beg to differ." Anger radiated from him.
"Baby. Please," she sighed, pain coloring her words, "let's not fight about this. Can you help me? It really fucking hurts."
"Sorry, sweetheart. Brace yourself; it's going to hurt more before it feels better." With jaw clenched he pulled the knife from her flesh and she hissed her body stiffening. His eyes met hers as he placed his hand over the wound, her blood warm against his palm. The sting was worse this time and her eyes rolled back into her head; it felt like he'd let loose with a white-hot poker to her insides. She was dancing on the edge of darkness when the pain finally left and the soothing tingle took its place.
Like the first time he'd healed her, once he was done she felt like a wet noodle, totally drained.
"Why do I feel so weak?" she murmured as he swung her up into his arms.
"The worse the injury, the weaker you feel after the healing," he explained. He eyed Kyan. "We shall talk of this, warrior."
"I apologize, Sire." Kyan bowed his head, "Her injury was an accident. She'd bested me," he indicated the blood stain across his own abdomen, "and I reacted instinctively."
"See?" Georgia piped up sleepily, "I bested him. 'Cos I'm the bestest." Both warriors couldn't help but grin at the pride in her voice. Then she passed out. Shaking his head in resignation Zak teleported her home, laying her gently on her bed to sleep it off.
17
Frank's phone buzzed. He glanced down at the text message.
"We've got trouble. Erik and his goons have turned up at Georgia's. Only he's been busy recruiting; he's got about twenty vamps with him."
"Shit!" Heath muttered, jumping to his feet, quickly followed by Aston and Dainton. They quickly armed themselves with knives and swords before taking formation, side by side with one hand on the shoulder of the warrior beside them. Zak stood at the end. As soon as Frank's hand fell onto his shoulder he teleported them all.
All hell had broken loose at Georgia's. Cole and Kyan had tried their best to keep the vamps from getting inside the house, but there were too many of them. Zak had teleported to her front garden, dropped the troops and immediately teleported inside the house. It was the quickest way of finding her.
Georgia was fending off a vamp who had her pinned against the lounge room wall. Blood was running from a gash in her arm but she was giving as good as she got with the vamp who was trying to rip her throat out. Zak pulled him off her and sent him flying across the room.
"You ok?" He quickly looked her up and down, searching for signs of a serious injury. Despite being battered and bruised she appeared ok. Her quick nod assured him of this and he turned his back on her to fight off the vamp who'd just picked himself up off the floor.
Within minutes Zak had torn his throat out. Another vamp was there to take his place and the battle raged on. Zak kept half of his mind on Georgia, making sure she was behind him and no one reached her. Bodies continued to pile up until finally, the remaining vamps retreated.
"Well ain't this a fuckin' mess," Georgia mumbled from behind him. He spun, hands reaching for her and pulling her into his embrace.
"You're not hurt?" He badly needed her reassurance that she was alright. As he held her tightly he heard the warriors securing prisoners and searching the grounds for survivors. Frank rushed in and murmured hurried words in Zak's ear.
He looked down at the woman in his arms.
"It's about Skye."
She froze. After a surprised silence, fear crossed her features.
"He took her?" she managed.
"Yeah."
The color drained from her face a moment before she panicked. She pushed at him, trying to get free.
"Easy," he said softly, holding her tighter. He pushed her back against the wall, using his body to still her movements. She was shaking against him. With a frustrated groan, she stopped fighting.
"Zak." Her voice cracked with emotion, and tears were in her eyes.
"Listen to me." He kept his voice calm and level, "First up, you are not running out of here on your own. We can get your sister back, and we're here to help you."
She listened, though fear and hysteria were in her gaze. He smoothed away the tears brimming from her eyes and kissed her.
Frank was barking orders behind him.
"Dainton and Heath, get rid of these bodies. Cole and Kyan, prisoners back to the homestead. Aston back to command central, check that GPS."
Activity burst around them at vampiric speed. Zak teleported Aston and Georgia back to the conference room where Aston got to work immediately on tracking Skye. They were lucky; she had her phone with her. Georgia didn't bat an eyelid that they'd bugged their phones. The red dot that was Skye was moving across the map with astonishing speed.
"We have to get after her!" Georgia cried, pulling on Zak's arm.
"Sweetheart, calm," he soothed. "Erik won't kill her; he doesn't have what he wants yet," Zak explained. "They need the ring to awaken the original. I have the ring. Not you, nor Skye. He knows if he kills her he has no chance of getting the ring from me. She is merely a bargaining chip."
"Then why take her, why not me?" she cried, frightened and frustrated and wanting badly to stamp her foot.
"I think it was a smash and grab attempt at either of you. He already knew you could defend yourself and there was a slight chance you'd get yourself killed in the attempt to snatch you. Skye was the softer target. If he could have got you both, w
ell, that would have been icing on the cake for him."
Georgia sank into a chair at the conference table, eyes bruised. Aston stiffened in his seat before raising his eyes to Zak.
"Boss, perhaps you could attend to her wounds," he indicated Georgia's bleeding arm with a nod of his head, "I'm getting a tad distracted over here," he grumbled, fangs sliding out.
"Apologies, my friend." Zak cursed himself for not healing her sooner. Not only must her arm be painful, but the scent of her blood was not a temptation he wanted to put in front of his warriors. Spinning her chair to face him, he laid a hand over her bleeding arm. The familiar sting of pain, followed by the soothing white glow soon had her torn flesh knitted back together. Big strong hands gently cupped her face and healed away her bruises, his eyes intent as he scanned her body for any other pains.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Georgia closed her eyes and tried to reach out to her sister. Nothing. Still, an empty space where her sister's light should have been. Not death, but not life either. Georgia shuddered at the thought of what was about to befall her. This was all her fault. If she'd fessed up to Zak in the first place all of this could have been avoided.
"Stop blaming yourself."
"You can't read my mind, remember?" she grumbled.
"I don't need to, to know that you're beating yourself up over this. This is not your fault."
Georgia pushed up out of her chair and began pacing. Zak watched with hooded eyes.
"Looks like they've stopped," Aston broke the silence.
"Where?" Zak and Georgia spoke together.
"Crystal Lakes. It's an abandoned winery - should only take about an hour by car."
"Why not just teleport us there?" Georgia asked Zak.
"I can only teleport to places I have been. I need to picture my destination in my mind first, visualize where I want to be, for it to work."
It was midnight when they hit the road, piled into two SUVs. Zak had tried to talk Georgia into staying behind, staying safe, but she wouldn't have a bar of it. This mess was her fault and she had to do what she could to fix it. She'd retrieved the dagger from its hiding place in her workshop and shoved it into her boot and she wouldn't hesitate to use it; the lessons Kyan had been giving her had helped and while she could still use some more practice on throwing and actually hitting her target, she'd picked up enough to improve her chances when it came to hand-to-hand combat.