I’d had enough experience there with magic to last me more than my share. It was where Kate and I had been attacked, where I’d first seen the use of magic wands, and where I’d first known Kate to send her magic in a way that allowed us to transport far more rapidly than we should have been able to. That was when I first truly understood the depth of magic.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised the paramilitary would be using it now.
Hurrying down the stairs, I paused at the door leading out and into the main part of the parking garage. Magic made the bracelet cold, and I tried to reach for my own connection, struggling to draw it out, but it still didn’t flow from me.
Anything I did would end up with me powerless.
And yet, I didn’t feel comfortable doing nothing. Not if I believed—as I did—that Jean-Pierre was captive. Pushing open the door, I headed out of the hospital and into the stark concrete walls of the parking garage.
My footsteps echoed. No one was there, and with each step, I knew I was making a mistake, but couldn’t help having to do this.
Some distant part of me wondered if Jean-Pierre had influenced me? I had felt the effect of his special brand of magic and knew there was something to it, regardless of what he and others claimed the vampires were capable of doing.
Then again, even if he was influencing me, helping him was just the right thing to do.
A voice echoed softly, drawing my attention.
I turned and headed in that direction. I couldn’t tell if it was only one or more than one, but it sounded like a solitary person. Just one person, and if that was the case, then this wouldn’t be who I was looking for. But there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the parking garage with me.
Turning the corner, I realized another voice sounded.
This one was deep, authoritarian, and sent chills rolling through me.
I didn’t know who it belonged to, but it certainly had a tenor to it that struck me as what I would expect from someone who served in a paramilitary organization. I could easily believe these were the people who had Jean-Pierre.
I should turn back. I knew deep within my being that I was well outside of my element, but something compelled me forward. Maybe because I was tired of feeling helpless, but even with that being the case, there wasn’t anything I could realistically hope to do.
Continuing around the garage, I caught sight of two figures.
Where was the third?
And where was Jean-Pierre?
Another voice thundered behind me.
I spun around, coming face-to-face with a massive man. He was broad shouldered, with a square jaw, and close-cropped brown hair. Every bit the military man. He wore a jacket and jeans, and I found myself looking for a sign of a weapon but didn’t detect anything.
What I did detect was a hint of magic. It left my wrist cold.
I would have to thank Kate for this bracelet when I saw her next, but first I had to get out of this situation.
“Where did I park my car?” I pretended to look around the inside of the garage, sending my gaze sweeping outward, but worried I wasn’t completely convincing.
“Are you following us?” the man asked.
“What?” I tried to make my voice as indignant as possible. “I work here. I can’t remember where I left my car, though.”
Taking a step back, I tried to maneuver around a man, but there wasn’t any place for me to go. I was trapped.
“There aren’t any more cars around the corner, so if you left your car, it’s not here.”
“Is that right?”
He took a step toward me. Something was in his hand but I couldn’t tell what. “I recognize you,” he said.
I barely had a chance to process his comment, glancing to his face and then freezing up. He was the guy from the house.
Why would they put that address into the chart?
He raised his hand.
It looked kind of like a gun, but it had no handle to it. Instead, it seemed more like a pipe. A pipe with a cross-shaped end.
Shit.
I dropped to the ground, rolling off to the side, reaching for any sense of power I might be able to summon. I tried to trace a circle on the ground, but even as I did, I knew I didn’t have the magic for that.
Was I going to end up captured?
The paramilitary man swung the pipe toward me again, and I knew it wasn’t all I should be worried about. I needed to be far more concerned about the possibility he’d fire whatever projectile at me, the same way they had used it on Barden.
I tried to roll out of the way but bumped into a car. I backed up, scooting across the ground, trying to move anywhere but there. He stood with his legs planted, both hands holding onto the cylinder as he aimed at me.
And never fired.
Something slammed into him from behind, sending him staggering. The man swung around, and the explosion from the cylinder thundered in my ears.
I turned around, preparing for the next attack, and the large paramilitary man wasn’t there. Something had gotten to him. The strange cylinder dropped and rolled toward me.
I grabbed it. It was cold, and strangely, there were marks made along it, and the marks looked like runes.
So much for dismissing the idea of magic being at play here. And, at least now I had a weapon. I wasn’t sure I could—or should—use it, but if it came down to it, I wasn’t going to be helpless.
Climbing to my feet, I went running into the parking garage, staggering forward so I could figure out what had happened to Jean-Pierre. I needed to find him, to uncover what all of this was about.
Turning the corner, I came to a pair of the paramilitary men. They held Jean-Pierre in between them, dragging him forward.
“Hey there, guys.”
The two men turned toward me. Jean-Pierre lifted his head, and a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes.
“I think you forgot to sign your discharge papers.”
“What?”
“The discharge papers. We can’t have you taking a patient from the hospital without signing the proper documentation.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Stone. I was this man’s emergency room physician.”
The two men shared a look. In that moment, I felt a flutter of uncertainty, though, in reality, everything left me feeling uncertain at this point. The guy on the left, the one who had a dark green jacket, nodded to the other.
The second reached into his pocket.
I didn’t want to linger. I had a strong suspicion I knew what he was going to do. If he was anything like the others, he’d be bringing out a cylinder with the cross at the end.
Raising my hand, I revealed to them that I had the other cylinder. “Hey. We match.”
The man eyed it for a moment. “Drop it.”
“I don’t think so. See, I have now experienced what this weapon can do. First, you decide to attack vampires, and then you decide to attack Dark Council mages. I have no idea what your plan is with someone like him, but…”
The paramilitary man started toward me. I held onto the cylinder, squeezing it.
The only problem was, I didn’t know how to fire it. There had to be a way to trigger it, but nothing happened.
The man smiled at me, a predatory gleam on his face. I wanted nothing more than to get this damn thing to shoot him. It wasn’t the first time in my life I wanted to actively hurt someone, but I hadn’t wanted to in a long time.
I embraced the memories I found necessary for my magic, letting that sensation flutter from within. It was there, hidden deep, and as I embraced it, I felt a stirring. It was weak, not nearly as strong as before, but it was still there, and I thought I could use it. I had to use it.
The paramilitary man continued to approach, each step toward me making me uncomfortable. He came relentlessly. I was backing up; another few steps and he would be right in front of me.
That magic was there. It was faint. I pushed it through the cylinder.
It exploded.
The paramilitary man was thrown up into the air and off his feet.
I stood, stunned, unable to move for a long moment. When I finally shifted, I took a deep breath. Holding onto the sense of magic buried within me, I knew I might need it, and moved out of the smoke, heading toward where the other man was and needing to get to Jean-Pierre.
By the time the smoke cleared, he was gone.
I looked around. There were ways of traveling for those with magic which didn’t require walking, but these guys didn’t have that ability. If they did, they wouldn’t have needed to drag him through there.
They would’ve taken him via some more practical means.
A car.
The sound of an engine starting caught my attention, and I ran toward it.
And collided into someone.
Staggering back, I looked up, raising the cylinder.
“Gillespie.”
Shit.
I’d already suspected he was with them; he was probably the reason they even knew about Jean-Pierre. “Are you going to hurt me now?”
“Why would I hurt you, Dr. Stone? I saved you, remember?”
“You didn’t save me. You just claimed you did.”
“Believe what you want, but I’m not here for you.”
“You’re not going to get to Jean-Pierre Rorsch.” I raised the cylinder, pointing it at his chest. I pulled on the sense of magic, letting it fill me. It was faint, but then, it was my magic, so it was possible I didn’t have enough power to use.
Matt watched me, corners of his eyes wrinkling, and he only shook his head. “You don’t need that for me.”
“You’re not going to take him.”
The longer we stood there, the more likely it was that something terrible was going to happen. The other guy was already in a car, and he only needed to speed out of the parking garage, and then he’d get to freedom, away from here, dragging Jean-Pierre away.
“I didn’t come for him.”
“Me?”
“Dr. Stone. I’m not here for you either. I’m here for them.”
I looked down at the ground at the fallen paramilitary man. Someone had struck the first attack, and I couldn’t believe it was Matt Gillespie. “Why?”
“Do we need to do this now?”
“At least convince me a little bit.”
“It’s my mission.”
“But you’re with them.”
“No. I was with them, but they broke off. They went rogue.”
The sound of an engine coming toward me caused me to jerk my head up to the side, looking toward the car as it barreled toward me. I stood frozen in place, holding onto the cylinder, aiming at the car. I tried to pull on magic, trying to send it through the cylinder but was unable to do so. It was almost as if I was too terrified. I couldn’t move, my entire body feeling fixed in place, fear building within me; the terror was rolling upward, making it so that all I wanted to do was go somewhere else, be somewhere else, run from there. I couldn’t run, and it left me feeling helpless.
Gillespie slammed into me, tossing me to the side.
The commotion began to leave, dissipating slowly, the fear draining away from me.
“What was that?” I asked.
It wasn’t natural. I couldn’t believe that it was.
“If you are wondering if it’s me, it’s not.”
“What is it, then?”
“Rand has a vampire charm,” he said.
“Rand?”
“Really, Dr. Stone?”
He helped me to my feet, and the pale light of the car glowed in the distance. Matt pulled something out of his pocket, a small circle, and he stooped and rolled it as if he was bowling.
“You might want to get down,” he said.
“What is it—”
A massive explosion filled the parking garage.
Eventually, the security guards in the hospital would have to come down there, wouldn’t they? Unless they weren’t triggered by all of the magic getting thrown around. There was just too much of it, and too often. I’d been through another fight there, though not nearly as explosive, and wondered if the security guards ever paid attention to the parking garage. This was supposed to be a safe space for people who worked at the hospital.
Matt darted forward, and I joined him.
Glancing over at me, he was shaking his head. “I don’t think you should do this, Dr. Stone.”
“That’s my patient.”
“Do you know who he is?”
I glowered at him. “Does it matter? Is that why you’re here?”
“It’s why they’re here.”
He launched himself forward and slammed into the car.
He moved with surprising speed, reaching the driver’s door, and jerked it, tearing the door clean off. Reaching inside, the other paramilitary man yanked at Matt’s arm, and Matt went flying.
Rand climbed out of the car, now heading toward Matt.
That was my opportunity. I kept low, holding onto the cylinder, and when I got to the back of the car, I looked inside to see Jean-Pierre lying on the seat. He wasn’t moving, and I wondered if he was even breathing.
Flipping the door open, I tapped on him. “Jean-Pierre. Time to go.”
He lifted his head, turning toward me. “Dr. Stone?” he whispered.
“Come on.”
“Are we back in the emergency room?”
“Not this time. I’m trying to get you out of the parking garage. It seems you were abducted by some very bad men.”
“They want the Mark.”
“I’m getting that sense, but it doesn’t matter.”
“It very much matters. They can’t get it.”
“Why?”
“The Mark allows the Council of Elders to turn familiars.”
“I thought the families did that?”
“The family sends a request. The Council completes it.”
Shit.
I understood why the paramilitary would be after Jean-Pierre. If he had a way of turning vampire familiars into vampires, they would either want to take it to ensure there were no more vampires—or take it for their own use. Either option was potentially incredibly dangerous.
I grasped him under the arms, starting to pull him across the seat. “You’re going to have to help with this,” I said.
“Dr. Stone, you should—”
He never had a chance to finish. Something seized me, throwing me back.
I spun around, trying to bring up the cylinder, trying to reach for magic, but it was panic that set in rather than a helpless feeling that I needed to embrace my own magic. I wasn’t able to call to it, and when I tried, when I searched for that connection, it didn’t come.
I had to do something more than this.
Rand had a hold of me, and I brought my foot up, kicking him in the groin. He caught my leg, twisting me, and threw me to the ground. I hit my hands, bracing myself, and tried to get up, but fear gripped me.
It was a deep and overwhelming sense of fear. Terror, once more. So much terror that everything within me wanted to curl up, to withdraw, and I wanted to be anywhere but where I was. As I felt that emotion, I tried to pull within myself, to be somewhere else, but I couldn’t.
“What are you doing here?” Rand asked. “Are you with him?”
I couldn’t answer. It wasn’t any specific fear. It was just an overwhelming dread. I couldn’t get up.
“I would not have expected him to have called a familiar. The elders generally are beyond that, but maybe he has taken you as a plaything.”
At the mention of a plaything, the terror shifted.
I wasn’t going to be anyone’s plaything!
But how could I do anything? How could I go anywhere?
There was no way for me to do it, and I felt nothing but the sense of cold panic.
Rand leaned over me, power radiating from him. I was helpless before him, unable to do anything. I wanted to crawl away, to hide, to
go somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But I couldn’t.
I knew I couldn’t.
He leaned down, closer to me, putting his face right up toward mine.
“Maybe I will make you my plaything.”
A distant part of me rebelled. For a moment, I wondered if Kate was offering me her help through the connection, but that wasn’t it. She might’ve helped me before, but this time it came from me.
I recognized this sense; I’d felt it before, though not like this. It was an outside influence, a power that filled me, that worked against me, that demanded I respond, and much like when Jean-Pierre used it, it felt as if I couldn’t do anything against it.
Only, I had somehow managed to do so.
The power to resist was within me; I had fought it more than once.
I could fight it now.
“Get up,” Rand said.
I had no choice but to comply. I stood, feeling unable to do anything else, and wondered distantly where Matt had gone.
“Into the car. A plaything and an elder, in one! I will call that a pretty good Friday.”
“No.”
Rand turned back to me. “What was that?”
“No.”
With the defiance, the hold over me, the terror which had rolled through me, retreated. It didn’t abate completely, and I didn’t know if it could. With the vampire power like that, working it against me, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remove it completely without having him do so, but I could fight. I could resist. I could—
I raised the cylinder, calling upon the sense of helplessness within me, the fear, but adding to it a sense of my desire to overpower Rand.
Not just overpower Rand, but to help Jean-Pierre.
I wasn’t helpless. I was a healer.
Only, not this time.
Power exploded out of the cylinder.
Rand went flying, the explosion tearing him away, and I stood, motionless, waiting for the smoke to clear.
“Lower it, Dr. Stone.”
I couldn’t tell who was talking to me.
“Lower the weapon, Dr. Stone.”
“Matt?”
He staggered toward me out of the smoke, reaching me. He leaned on the car, his side bleeding heavily. Was he shot the way I’d shot the other paramilitary men?
“It’s over.”
“It’s not. He’s going to come back.”
Frost Bite Page 21