Oh, did I forget to mention Carissa booked the sanctuary’s party room for her shindig? She really is one, dastardly cunning, uber bitch. If I succeed, she’ll be nothing but a pile of dust by the end of the night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The plan is for Elon to approach Carissa under the guise of his devoted allegiance. He is to introduce Ranissa as me. Elon Ford is duplicitous. While I trust him wholeheartedly, Carissa believes he’s working for her side. When the cop ran to his queen with information, hoping to garner her favor, Elon had to work some fast mojo to keep Carissa believing he was still on board with her plans.
We’re not sure the extent of what she knows about us, so it’s a crapshoot on how his introduction will be received. He doesn’t think she knows we’re mated. A few well-placed, juicy nuggets leaked within earshot of her followers colored us as vampire and charmed feedbag. My god-like virtue is a check in the bonus column.
She is aware I’m the bringer of her end, but she thinks I’m under his thumb and controllable. Ranissa’s demure movements and softness are the perfect con.
While Elon and my sister wait to meet and ass kiss, I’m circling the area searching for where she hid the mage. I draped a large cloak over my dress and switched out my intricate jeweled mask for a flat black one with feathers. Until Ranissa and Elon begin to mingle, I must blend. The Wathes fit seamlessly with all the residents of Silver Lake. Faces hidden behind masks and dressed to impress, they sip champagne, chuckle boisterous laughter, and nibble on tartlets. The sweet gullible kindergarten teacher is clueless she’s flirting with a newly made vampire, who keeps staring at her neck.
I stay outside the main room, casting occasional glances to Elon’s men who guard the doors where partygoers aren’t allowed.
How are all these people not sensing the danger surrounding them? And why the hell aren’t they out taking their kids trick-or-treating? Ranissa whispers in my head.
Good question. It’s Bad Parenting 101 to rock your own jollies instead of avid candy collection. I mean, think of the decline in candy corn sales, I mock.
No loss there. Yuck.
Hey, no dissing on the candy corn. It’s second only to those orange and black peanut butter kisses. Dammit, now I’m gonna have to hit up half-off goody day tomorrow.
If we make it to tomorrow, you and I will discuss your disgusting choices in candy. Ooh, we’re finally up to meet Carissa. Holy bejesus, have you seen what she’s wearing?
I don’t answer because I want her staying focused. Instead I peek around a ficus, peering into the ballroom. Carissa Dumain stands in pure regal form on the stage above her subjects. A beam of soft light shines on the cascading length of her ebony hair. Her porcelain smooth skin glows, appearing luminescent. High cheekbones cut severe angles in her thin face. Her frigid white eyes, rimmed in crimson, glow brighter from the on point smoky eye makeup and curling lashes. The white of her teeth blinds every time her ruby red painted lips split in the fake smile she offers with each introduction.
She’s dripping in diamonds, or so it seems. Her white, leg-slitted mermaid dress hugs her voluptuous body. Breast hugging swaths barely cover her high and tight oversized assets, sweeping up to tie around her neck. A thin belt accentuates her slim waist and the crisscrossing jewels formfit her curving hips. The solid coverage ceases inches below her vagina, splitting into stringing shimmering ropes hanging down to puddle at her feet. Easily as tall as I am and a whole helluva lot more feminine, she shines as bright as the stones decorating her dress.
Phony as the day is long, she extends a waifish boney hand to each man, watching the eyes of the women on their arms as they kiss her knuckles. To those who don’t know what she is she appears weak and fragile, but even from my spot outside the room I shiver from her power.
Elon and Ranissa stand before Carissa. She reaches her fingers, waiting for Elon to accept her offer. A growl rumbles up my throat, drawing the attention of a few couples checking out the lobby of the sanctuary. My sister takes Carissa’s wiggling digits, transforming her bow down to me into a hard up-and-down handshake. The side of Elon’s lips tips in a satisfied smirk, but he’s quick to quell it. Presentation over, Ranissa and Elon work their way through the elbow-to-elbow crowd.
This is my cue. With the help of one of the door guards, I shed my cloak and replace my mask with a sequin red pattern adorned with rubies. Ranissa splits from Elon, with Parker close behind, to scout for secret spillers on the left side of the room. Elon works the center of the group, attracting jealousy-inducing attention from many females, and I slip in to listen to chatter on the right. I spot Geri, Kerrigan, and Lex chatting up various vampires. Eirika is working her Valkyrie feminine wiles on a handful of panthera. Dusty and Trevor circle the fringe.
An hour later and I’ve learned nothing beyond men of any breed are pigs. Claws, paws, fingers… I felt an assortment of appendages brush against the ample skin beneath the hem of my dress. They’re too many damn suspects to determine who the pervy assgrabbers are.
I’m frustrated and fondled with aching feet, and we’re running out of time.
Hands fisted at my hips, I catalogue the room. A band plays for dancing guests at the far edge, servers bustle keeping food and alcohol flowing freely, and an air of loose inhibitions provided by the anonymity of masks buzzes from person to person. Heat and soft fabric brush my bare back as a hand slips around my waist and lips touch the shell of my ear. I tense until the scent of spicy cedar warms my nose.
He drags my ass tight to his hips. “I hate that Lex blocked my mark from you. I’m seconds from ripping out the throat of every person who’s touched your skin.” His face nuzzles into my neck, his chest expanding with his deep inhale. Along my front his thumb circles my belly button piercing, flicking the tiny hoop with each rotation. My head drops against his shoulder, offering him unfettered access to my pulsing vein.
“Dance with me,” he groans, his dick hardening against my lower back. His hand smooths down over my hip to weave our fingers. Pulled behind him, I admire the toned muscled lines of his body so sinfully hugged by the fit of his well-tailored suit. Whether dressed in loose fit jeans, crazy expensive formal wear, or standing stark naked; Elon Ford is packaged for sex. Dominance and experience wave off him, warning and promising of pleasure.
In the center of the dance floor his arms ring my waist, settling his splayed fingers at the top of my ass. My hands trace up his lapels, thumbs skimming his stubbled jaw I settle my fingers into the soft inky hair at his starched collar. A jolt of want tingles between my legs, slicking my thighs with wetness. His nostrils flare and his chest rubbing my nipples vibrates with his groan. The bloodlust monster who trapped his soul is gone thanks to my love, but the hungry, pupil blown beast, whose hands are pressing me against the thick steel of his erection, is in full effect.
The mission, the world ending, the sky heavy with blood, it all falls away as his lips swoop toward mine.
NICOLE! Niiiiiccccooolllee! A squelching high chatter stabs through my brain. The gibber of chimps calls my name. Come, come, come, a cacophony of childlike voices beckon.
“What’s wrong, Love?” Elon whispers, continuing to sway our bodies to thwart suspicion.
“The apes are talking to me?” I respond more question than answer.
Nicole, Nicole, it’s Geeeeennnnnaaaa. Hurry, hurry.
“Jesus, it’s like listening to a room full of preschoolers. They’re all yelling at once.” A headache engulfs my brain. While I reel, Elon once again takes my hand, leading with purpose through the clusters of guests to the hall. The pain vanishes, returning my focus.
Thank you, Ranissa.
Staying calm and undetected, looking like lovers searching for a minute alone, we slip past the guard into the paddock. My heels sink into the grass as we rush toward the tree line. Geena peeks out from behind a thick trunk, sees me, and swings from a low branch landing in my open arms. Her soft ebony fur tickles my exposed skin.
It’s about ti
me you tapped into your ability to hear me. Her wide chestnut eyes hold entirely too much human frustration.
Maturity hangs on her little toddlerish voice. Elon watches me, curious about our exchange as I’m sure his vampy ears only hear her chimpanzee clamoring.
A group snuck out here. They charmed the man at the door. People don’t think about chimps being able to understand their words. Because we’re animals, they deem us useless. This one.
She points her wrinkled thumb at Elon.
And the others in white coats are the only ones who understand we’re more than a source of salvation. We willingly offer our blood and enjoy our time here in the sanctuary, especially when we work with children. I like the lollipops and Dr. Elon smells so good when he’s near or he did until you showed up.
Huh, guess they are more human than anyone knows if they’re influenced by Elon’s allure. But she’s rambling off track.
“Geena, I promise to come chat with you later, but right now I need you to focus. What did the men say? Why did you call us out here?”
Oh right. The mage you want is not here. He’s at the source of power, waiting for the goons to gain the last piece of the spell. They said something about the link requiring the call of the dead and the spirit of Odin.
I relay her message to Elon, asking him what he thinks it means.
“Only a necromancer can speak to the dead and you, Nicole, are the spirit of Odin. You and…” His glacial eyes grow saucer wide.
“Ranissa. FUCK!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I seek her mind. Searching for our common thought coil.
Nissa, where are you?
She doesn’t answer; instead my projection rebounds as though it has nowhere to land.
Geena jumps from my hold as I kick off my heels. Grass stabbing at my feet I run into the building. Wrist to my lips, I activate my coms bracelet.
“Parker! Where’s my sister?”
He doesn’t respond. “Does anyone see Ranissa?” I scream, uncaring who hears.
No, comes from all but Kerrigan. “I saw her headed to the bathroom ten minutes ago. What’s going on?”
My bare feet slap on the tile as I race to the restroom. Outside the door, Parker lies bleeding on the floor. Elon bends to check his pulse as I hop over him, bursting through the door. Inside, water sprays, flooding the floor from a broken pipe overhead. A sliver of black floating in the stream snags my attention. Wading through the wetness, I scoop it up. My sister’s com bracelet rests in my palm melted where it was singed from her skin and along the wall sits one of her shoes.
Instinct tells me she ripped apart the pipe overhead. She tried to fight, but like me, there is nowhere to hide a weapon while wearing this fucking dress, so she grabbed what she could but it didn’t help. Since she never screamed for me, he must’ve knocked her out quickly.
Rage rushes through my veins. Legs soaked, I stomp from the room pulling my katanas from there hiding spot behind a plant. Sheath strapped to my back, I free my swords, charging toward the ballroom.
Elon blocks my path. “What are you doing, Love?”
“I’m going to chop off Carissa’s fucking head, that’s what. She can’t exact world destruction if she’s a pile of dust.”
His hand on my wrist stops me. “Elon,” I seethe baring my teeth, “I love you but if you don’t let me go, you’re gonna find out firsthand if a vampire can regrow an appendage.”
“Nicole.” His fingers tighten as his fangs extend. Gotta say his snarl is tons more intimidating than mine. “Carissa’s army fills that room. The minute they see those blades, they’ll cut you down. How close to you think you’ll get?”
“I’ll kill them all for touching her,” I scream spraying spit, feeling angry tears gathering in my eyes.
“Love,” his deep voice soothes. “If they hurt you what happens to Ranissa?”
Those words halt my fight. The rest of our group circles around us. Eirika sets to healing Parker.
Elon hugs me to his chest. “Geena said the mage is at the power source. We must get to him. I heard mumblings confirming killing Carissa won’t stop the ritual. Once it starts, the magic will flow to anyone powerful enough to contain it.”
“So what, he’s at the transfer station outside of town? What does a mage need electricity for?” Geri questions.
“No.” I straighten. “Geena said he’s at the source of power. The Axis. He’s at Silver Lake College.”
Unwilling to wait for the rest of them, I run to the elevator. Without Elon’s access, I can’t activate it because he sealed it all for the party. Instead, I turn to the stairwell door. It too is password protected. Coiling my core strength, I kick the steel. The latches and hinges snap, sending the metal flying to the first landing. I hear the awe resounding from my friends, but I don’t care how spectacular my display of rage was. Fingers wrapped around the railing, I fling myself over, leaping from floor to floor without touching a step until I reach the ground level.
After flattening another door, I stomp to the room I share with Ranissa. Our things litter across the beds and floor where we got ready for the party. Her watermelon body spray still hangs in the air. I rip the dress over my head, uncaring who is watching, I quickly slip on the outfit Parker designed for me.
Butter soft black leather pants with thigh straps attached for daggers and slots for stakes. Bra with stunner heavy straps, white tank top lined with featherlight magic chain mail and an ebony leather vest with built-in sheaths on the back for my swords. I shove my feet into thick motorcycle boots, with shimmering chrome buckles and pop-out spikes in the heels. Wrangling my long hair into a tight ponytail, I brush past Elon, speed walking to the weapons room.
Inside I slip two throwing stars into each vest pocket, shove four Yggdrasil stakes in pockets on the back of my thighs, sheath my blades, strap push daggers with leather bands to my biceps, and hang a Japanese Tachi sword from my belt.
Mages are easier to kill than vampires if you thwart their power, but I’m certain he’s very well protected while working his evil magic.
On my way out, I catch my reflection in the glass door. Holy shit, I really do look like Badass Barbie. Well, what the hell, Barbie can be and do anything, right? I’m gonna go save the world.
Elon and the others shout and yell, arguing in the control room. I feel his eyes on me as I pass, but he doesn’t chase.
Huh. Guess they’ll catch up, if not I’ll save my sister on my own, and if I stop the apocalypse then yay me, but right now I only care about her.
Rika waits for me at the entrance to the garage. Her edge-to-edge, hazy green, sightless eyes stare through me. I don’t have time for a lengthy, cryptic discussion. She steps to the side, allowing me to pass without saying a word. I think I’m free and clear until her long fingers snag my wrist. When I turn, her other hand lands on my heart. A jolt of her power spirals through my chest, circles outward to the top of my head, tips of my fingers, and the flat of my feet.
“I’ll keep you safe Daughter of Odin, now go bring our girl home,” her husky voice warbles, and there’s a distinct wetness in her eyes as she turns, rushing away faster than a blind woman should be able.
In the garage, I search for the keys to the Rezvani. Unsure where Elon keeps them, I cross the concrete floor to an empty stall. The air snaps, crackles, and pops better than a bowl of Rice Krispies. Coils of smoky pink and green ping-pong around the space forming a ginormous…pink animal?
It grows, sprouting eight muscular legs, four in front, four in back. A long strong spine stretches over a thick beastly body, with a watermelon thick head and strong twitching nose. A gorgeous mane of rainbow dreadlocks drapes one side of its neck and hangs swaying from its rather large backside.
It’s a horse…I think.
“Hello, old—” he pauses angling his large head at my feet his curious soulful eyes scale up to mine. “—friend? I sensed I was needed,” he whinnies a bass neigh, yet I understand him.
“I�
��m sorry, I think you have me confused. There are so many questions to ask here but I have a sister to rescue, a mage to kill, and if I’m lucky a world to save. How bout we cut to the chase? Who are you and how can you help me?”
“I am Sleipnir, trusted companion to Odin. The best among horses.” His head flicks back to his body as his vibrant blue eyes grow wide. “This is how you see me? Pink and multihued?”
“Uh, yes? Are you not usually so girly?”
“You are the first bearer of Odin’s spirit. The ‘All Father’ would strike fear into no one riding into battle with my hair this colorful. His presence radiates from you. While I’m excited to serve the great Norse god once again, this is testing my loyalty.” He snorts at his own humor.
“Well, I can’t gallop through town on an eight-legged steed anyway, so thank you, but I must be going.”
He shakes his head, flipping his pretty mane. The light show begins again. I assume he’s returning to wherever he came from, but he shifts into a sleek, matte gray Ducati Panigale motorcycle, with pink painted rip marks down the fairing and fuchsia neons shining inside each fat tire.
“Daaammnnn, Sleepy.” My fingers glide down the machine, its power rushing through my arm. “I don’t know how to ride but wow.”
“I am at your service, lass. Adaptable to modern times. You are young and female, but I see his light inside you. It’s halved, but as strong as it was when I looked upon my king. Come, young one, I’ll lead you into battle.”
Without a mouth, hearing him talk is funky. His handlebars turn, offering me a pink-striped silver helmet. I straddle the leather seat, slipping on the head protection. Beneath me, his engine hums and his power infuses me. The wide overhead door slides open, I hunch over, wrapping my hands around the rubber grips and bending my knees to rest my feet on the pegs.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 93