The Princess of Wands (Villainess Book 3)

by Alana Melos

  I sat down on the bed next to her and opened the medical kit. When I began wrapping it, she winced and I rolled my eyes. “It’s going to hurt. I think I have a morphine shot in here if you want it. Otherwise, it’s codeine and aspirin.” A slow trickle of blood reminded me she wasn’t the only one who needed bandaging and I gave Alistair a dirty look. Damn mages. If it wasn’t for the blood and gunk over his clothes, he would have been fresh as a daisy.

  “I’ll take the shot,” she whispered.

  “Smart girl,” I replied. After I administered it, she relaxed into the pillows. When I touched what remained of her left arm, she winced, but nodded. Her lids grew heavy as the drug took effect. The rest of it took a matter of moments.

  When finished, I grabbed the kit and went into the bathroom. There, I bandaged myself as best I could while Alistair sat with the Siren on the bed. I watched them in the mirror. She smiled at him sleepily and he kissed her hand much as he had done mine. Though I couldn’t read either of them telepathically, I saw the blooming affection expressed between them. My thoughts turned to Nosferatu, of course. He harbored no such romantic feelings, nor would he ever. I didn’t either, once upon a time, but I did now.

  As I stripped my jacket, shirt, and bra off to clean my wounds, I pondered it. I didn’t love him. I didn’t think I could… yet. Obsession, possession, the struggle for dominance… these were the things which had taken root in my head. I missed him and I wanted him, but then I had almost always wanted him sexually. I wanted to break him open, to make him mine. More than that, I wanted him to be only mine. That was the new part. This jealousy didn’t sit well on me and I had to lose it.

  I finished cleaning and went to wrapping, watching the two lovers in the mirror. He stroked her hair softly they talked in low voices so as not to be overhead. Affection and compassion: these were two things I would never get from the vampire. Perhaps from his human half, but never from the dead one. Was that something I wanted? Something I needed?

  Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts and smothered the feelings down to a low simmer once more. It didn’t matter. I was going to get my head fixed and get back to my old self anyway. Then we could begin the game of predator and prey anew. As I finished wrapping my chest, I looked at myself in the mirror. A stranger looked back at me. I looked tired, with heavy circles under my eyes. The rest of my face looked pale, wan. It had been a long night.

  After closing the door, I did all the mundane things people did… brushed my teeth, combed my hair, so on and so forth, but thoughts kept clanging around in my head. Instead of mooning over Nosferatu, I turned my mental ramblings to Gerard. What did those people want with him, and was he still alive? Alistair had gotten an address an hour ago and they couldn’t move him because of the storm. I could get there, but the night had caught up to me. Vampire blood burned out of my system, my own reserves running low, and now wounded… I didn’t know how I was going to do this.

  Frustrated, I left the bathroom and stripped down, heedless of my two guests. I got on some clean, practical clothing: black t-shirt and blue jeans. I did have a suit of kevlar here, older, but still serviceable. Then, to the kitchen. I’d eaten at Alistair’s, but I wanted more food. Almost all metahumans ate, and ate a lot… those whose powers were from mutations or genetic tinkerings that is. The energy a metahuman generated didn’t come from nowhere. It came from within, requiring calories just like running or lifting something heavy did. Mystics and techs had an advantage over the genetically superior as their power came from somewhere else, something else.

  I chowed down on whatever was in the cupboards… some kind of condensed soup. Not bothering to heat it up--the more I ate, the more I hated food, and the faster I wanted to get it down; it was a never ending cycle--I simply ate, my thoughts focused on the plan to get Ger back. I wanted to get it done now, this morning, before the storm had a chance to lift and they switched locations.

  I couldn’t see a way to do it, not and not get caught. I had no idea who was there, what they had, or the layout. That was a recipe for disaster. Glancing at Alistair, then back to my soup, I frowned. I’d originally thought the Nacht Sirene would be helping. Even without her powers, she knew how to handle herself. Alistair would be a huge boon… but now he went into the realm of unpredictable. I thought I had known him. I thought I had him under control. Tonight showed me how foolish those thoughts had been. Yeah, I’d brought him back from the edge, but that wouldn’t always work. No wonder he tried to keep himself humble and alone. With power like that, he could destroy the city… hell, the world!

  Of course, the thought of that made me wet. For me, there was no greater aphrodisiac than power. Yet the nature of that power made me cross him off my list. I couldn’t trust it and I couldn’t trust him. He had slipped on the edge of insanity and fallen in. He could still be insane. Fuck, maybe all mages were to some degree.

  That left myself. I threw the empty can away. When I went back to the closet and pulled out the kevlar, Alistair roused from his spot. “What are you doing, Caprice?” he asked.

  “I still have to rescue Gerard,” I answered. Once the kevlar was out, I rummaged for some more villain appropriate clothes. Going outside in jeans would be unforgivable.

  “You need to rest,” he said. “Sleep, just for a few hours.” He glanced to the covered window, “The storm still rages, and will for hours yet. I can feel it.”

  Those four words sent a chill up my spine. What else could he feel? What were the limits? Was he going to slip again? “No,” I said, digging my heels in. “I have to get him now. They won’t be expecting a hit this early, nor in the storm. I’ll have the advantage of surprise.” Which was the only advantage I was likely to get.

  “Caprice, you need rest,” he said, his words gentle. “You’ve been awake all night, and have been busy for much of it. A couple of hours will help to restore you, and you’ll still have the cover of the storm.”

  Good advice was good advice, no matter where it came from. I looked up at Alistair and met his dark eyes. What else was he hiding under there? It annoyed me to no end I couldn’t read him telepathically to find out for sure. He did, however, have a point.

  With the smallest of sighs, I nodded. “Alright.” I abandoned the search through the closet for clothing and sat down on the bed. Just because Rebekah was on it didn’t mean I was giving it up. “You can sleep in the chair.”

  “Not going to sleep,” he replied. “I need to think.”

  “Whatever floats your boat,” I said as I crawled into bed and stretched out. I floated my trench over to me and took out my phone to set for an alarm. “A couple of hours, and that’s all.” I had to move fast, but now that I had laid down, my body cried out for rest.

  “I won’t let you oversleep,” he promised. “Rest. You did me a huge… you saved me.” He gave me a ghost of a smile, there on his thin lips and gone in a heartbeat. “I was lost, and you saved me. I know I’m not supposed to say this because people would abuse it, but I trust you, Caprice. And I owe you.”

  I arched a brow at him, shaking my head, “I wouldn’t, Alistair.”

  “I do,” he said. “How could I not after tonight? Rest. I’ll wake you.”

  “If you owe me,” I mumbled as I settled in, “you’re going to pay big for it.”

  He laughed. At the sound Rebekah turned in her sleep and wrapped her arm around me. I let her. The mage got up, checked the window, then settled himself into the chair, a serious expression making his handsome face look grim. Of course, that really wasn’t his face, but we all wore our masks. I couldn’t hold his against him.

  I inclined my head to the side to rest my cheek on the Siren’s mop of blond hair. Warm and comfortable, it only took a few moments before darkness took me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The redness of blood and the soft fleshy pink of bodies ran through my head. I knew I was dreaming. I didn’t always have lucid dreams. Most the time I dreamt like everyone else with my mind creating nonsense ima
ges and situations to help my subconscious figure out a problem or scratch a mental itch I couldn’t while I was awake. This one stood out in excruciating detail, hyper-reality at its finest. I saw every ripped bit of flesh, every wound, and heard every splash of blood as my feet walked up the wall of the block in my mind. I didn’t know how I was walking up it, but it didn’t matter since it was a dream. Each footstep brought a pool of blood to the surface. Seen in crisp detail, I picked out each severed limb, each headless torso in the block.

  Searching for an opening, I stumbled as a hand grabbed me. No one spoke; I heard only a shivering moan from the great wall of bodies. I batted at the hand, but it grasped me tighter, pulling my foot through. For a second, elation filled me. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? To be through the block? See what was on the other side? Tap into my real potential?

  The elation didn’t last. As my feet were pulled through the wall of blood and flesh, they disappeared. I didn’t feel them any longer. The further I got yanked through, the more of me disappeared, swallowed up by the unknown. I screamed. Scrambling to find a way out, I pushed with all of my might. No use. The bodies kept clawing at me, leaving gore streaked over my body until I was covered, head to … to mid-thigh. No matter how hard I tried, they sucked me down until blood swum over my head.

  I woke with a start, that same scream on my lips. I managed not to vocalize it and thus, the slumbering blonde next to me continued to slumber. Alistair roused himself from gazing out the window to look at me, a concerned frown upon his face.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rebekah.

  Nodding, I got off the bed. The dream was already fading, but I still snuck a peek inside my head to look at the block. It was red, as it always had been, but it wasn’t made of bodies, just the smooth slick somewhat flexible surface with weird, random designs. When I put my mental hand upon it, it felt warm to the touch… as it always had. I blinked back topside and looked around. I felt rested. Very rested. My fingers drifted to the bandages beneath my tee shirt and I pressed down. No pain.

  I took off my shirt and unwound the bandages. The wound had healed, gone as if it had never been. Flexing my hands, I realized I felt no pain there either. When I unwrapped the bandages, my palms were smooth and unbroken. “I healed you,” Alistair said. I heard the smug smile in his voice. “It was the least I could do after--”

  My sudden movement interrupted him. In an instant, I flew across the room, summoning my sword to my hand telekinetically. I knocked him out of the chair and onto the floor. Straddling him with my blade to his neck, I sneered. He looked shocked, to say the least.

  “You will never do anything like that again,” I told him, rage coloring my sight red. “You will not invade my body.”

  “It… it wasn’t an invasion,” Alistair replied, trying to explain himself. “I just healed you. That’s all. Nothing you wouldn’t have had done someplace else.”

  “While I was sleeping,” I snarled and pressed my o-wakizashi into the flesh of his throat, cutting him. “Without my permission. That is what you will never do again.” I shook him to drive the point home. “You get me?”

  “I got… I understand,” he said. “I apologize.”

  For a moment, the crimson rage held me, red like the bead of blood on the steel of my blade. Being angry comforted me. It was normal, expected, and wanted. I knew how to deal with anger. I wanted to slice him up, but the practical side of me won out over the angry side. He was a powerful mage who had a lot of versatility in his skills… and he owed me. Get the favor from him first, then kill him.

  I let my blade up then stood up. Begrudgingly, I offered a hand to him to help him from the floor. “I take my personal space very seriously,” I said. “I thought you would have known that with all your aura reading.” I spit the last two words out at him. It was yet another invasion I’d known nothing about.

  He took it and stood. His hand shook in mine. “I… I, ah, hadn’t thought of that,” Alistair said, his voice abashed. “You were intent on going out after Regulus, and I thought you’d need your strength.”

  Wrong as he was to violate me like that, he was right about needing strength. I felt good, on top of my game. The couple of hours of sleep I’d had coupled with whatever he did had restored me. Looking up into his earnest eyes, I read the desire to help, as well as other things best left unmentioned for the moment. “Thank you,” I said, begrudgingly. “I probably would have asked for something like that. But the key word is asked. Remember that.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his eyes wandering down to my bare chest.

  “No time for that,” I said, quirking a brow at him. The snide part of me added, “Besides, don’t you have a girlfriend now?”

  He flushed and I laughed, enjoying his uncomfortable expression. Repressed and reclusive as he was, I knew mentioning Rebekah would fluster him. “We didn’t talk… about… I don’t know,” he said. “I guess, maybe?”

  “And maybe not,” I said. Examining him more closely, Alistair looked whole, but shaken. Something haunted his eyes. “Alistair… what was that?” My voice, hushed as it was, echoed through the room.

  “Rebekah and I? It was--”

  “No,” I said. “The things. At the end.”

  He looked out the window. “I don’t think I can explain it well, Caprice.”

  “Try,” I urged. “It felt empty, but not. Something… I don’t know. Alien. Otherworldly.”

  “Alien is as close as you can get to a word to describe it,” he said, his voice hushed and reverent. “I told you, I learned magics. Gained power. Those are the darkest of arts, but... not at the same time. Something pure, whole. The mind… the mind can’t…” A shudder wracked his body. “Something beautiful.” Instead of solemn, his voice sounded husky, thick with desire.

  Whoops. We were heading back to crazy town. I wanted to pursue this line of questioning, but as I looked at his troubled yet subtly ecstatic face, I knew it was a bad idea. “Well, forget it,” I said briskly. “It’s nothing I’d get anyway.”

  He gave me a small shrug, but his eyes thanked me. “Perhaps another time.”

  “Sure,” I said, brushing it off and trying to forget about it. I went to the closet and dug out more work appropriate clothing. The kevlar armor was all black, so I chose a dark grey shirt and black leather pants to go with it. My boots were flat, mud stompers. Over it went my red trench coat. It fit pretty well, though with the armor it became a little tight across my shoulders. Nothing which would hamper me… much. A mask… of course, I had to have a mask. I didn’t have my full selection here, but I found an appropriate one: all black, dulled so it wouldn’t reflect the light well.

  “You shouldn’t go alone,” Alistair said.

  “Are you volunteering?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t.

  “I wouldn’t be much use to you unless it sat on a ley line,” he replied. “Most of my power is channeled from the earth. Healing myself, you, and Rebekah took much out of me.” Sighing softly, “In my sanctuary, things would be different.”

  “No guarantee on this line thing,” I said, glancing to the sleeping Siren. “And she’s out. And crippled. Deadly still, but crippled.” I glanced at her bandaged stump and flexed my right hand instinctively. Although I could do some tasks with either hand, my right was my dominant… and my sword hand. I’d have to relearn everything if that had been me. “Who else would I call? Who else could get out in this storm? It’s going to be bad enough flying in it. I can shield myself from the snow and wind, but not from the cold and I wouldn’t want to drag two people across town either.”

  “You have a point,” he conceded. “If they took Regulus, as much as… I don’t care for him, he’s deadly. A good fighter, and a strong telepath.”

  “They were ready for him,” I said. “I’m counting on surprise. Plus, once I free him, he’ll help.”

  “If he’s in any condition to.”

  Shrugging, I sheathed my sword
in the jacket sheath. “It doesn’t matter either way. I said I was going to get him, and I will.”

  “Just be careful, Caprice,” he replied and I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. If they’re ready for a telepath of his caliber, they’ll be ready for you too.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said as I gave him a roguish smile.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The flight over chilled me to the bone, but not as much as it should have thanks to a telekinetic shield to keep the worst of the wind and snow off of me. When I landed across the street from the address Alistair had given me, I took a moment to check my things. I’d brought a knife with me in case Gerard was able to fight, a couple of energy bars, my sword, and the mask. Always the mask. I put it on and looked out of the mouth of the wide alley I was in at my destination.

  It looked to be an old factory, maybe a sweatshop in days gone by. Whatever it was, the building stood only two stories tall, with tall but narrow windows, reminding me of the old buildings which had been built around the turn of the previous century. If this place was that old, then they would likely be on the bottom floor as the second floor would likely be rotted out. Most of the windows had been boarded up as well as the double doors which dominated the center of the building. It didn’t look disturbed, so they must have gone in another way.

  I flew a wide arc around the building and, sure enough, a single door in the back had been used, still open just a crack. Right now, with all the snow blowing around, it couldn’t be opened. The drifts were too high and packed tight against it. I could only see the top third of the wooden frame as it was.

  Stretching out my mental senses, I scanned for Gerard, whose mind I knew so well. Strangely, I got nothing. My first thought was he was dead. In between the time Alistair had gotten me the address and my actually arriving, they had gotten what they wanted from him and killed him. The second thought was an inhibitor of some sort, preventing psychic scans or powers from activating within the radius. If they were coming after a strong telepath known to mind control people, a preventative measure such as that would be vital.