Supernatural Bundle

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Supernatural Bundle Page 71

by Jacquelyn Frank


  Ignoring the potent smell, Dante angled toward the back of the house. The fainter scent of the Shalott led him through the empty library to a small closet that had been locked with three iron bars.

  Not a barrier to vampires, but Dante was willing to bet that iron was a threat to Shalotts.

  With a grimace at the inevitable noise, Dante ripped the bars from the door, tossing them aside as he glanced over his shoulder to ensure that no one had come charging into the room to confront him.

  The room was empty, but his momentary distraction didn’t go unpunished as the door exploded outward and a slender form leapt forward to catch him on the chin with a sharp kick.

  With a grunt that was as much annoyance as pain, Dante whirled to discover the demon bent in a menacing crouch.

  There was a lethal, near-intoxicating beauty in her long, slender limbs and flowing black hair, but Dante had no interest in her physical attributes. Or even the cloud of pheromones that filled the room.

  His bond with Abby made him impervious to her potent allure.

  Instead he prepared himself for another attack.

  She wouldn’t get another cheap shot.

  Holding up a hand, he regarded her with a frown. “Let me speak.”

  Her hands flexed in warning. “Stay back, vampire.”

  “This may be difficult to believe, but I’ve come to help you.”

  Her lips curled. “And all I have to do is allow you to have a few sips, right? Thanks, but no thanks.”

  Dante gritted his teeth. Had there ever been a woman born—human, demon, or other—that didn’t have to argue?

  “I have no desire for your blood, Shalott,” he rasped. “But I will need your skills.”

  “Forget it.” She gently swayed, like a cobra preparing to strike. “I’ll see you dead first.”

  Realizing she thought he meant her hereditary skills of seducing vampires, he gave an impatient wave of his hand.

  “I need your fighting skills.” He allowed his gaze to shift to the savage cuts that marred her arms and upper torso. He would bet she possessed a matching set on her back. She had been whipped as if she were an animal. “I intend to put an end to the witches.”

  She stilled, her brows snapping together. “It’s impossible. They’re too strong.”

  “Not after they were nearly wiped out by the wizard. They can’t stand against two vampires and a Shalott.”

  She sniffed the air as if seeking to determine if he spoke the truth.

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “I’m chained just as you are.”

  Her breath caught. “The beast.”

  “Yes.”

  Without warning, she straightened and Dante bared his fangs. Promise or not, if the woman attacked him again, he would rip out her throat.

  Instead she glared at him with a hint of fear.

  “The Phoenix is here?” she demanded. “You must get her out.”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do. With your help.”

  “If they perform the ritual—”

  “Can you fight?” he interrupted.

  “Yes. The spell can only force me to come to them when they call.”

  He smiled wryly. “I meant are you well enough to fight? You’ve been injured.”

  She appeared momentarily startled by his concern. As if it was the last thing she expected. Then, as if embarrassed by her display of vulnerability, her chin tilted to a proud angle.

  “I can fight.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  There was a tense beat before she gave a jerky nod of her head and they moved out of the room side by side. Neither was comfortable with having the other at their back.

  “The cellar,” he muttered, and with a nod she was headed down the hall toward what he hoped was the entrance to the stairs.

  As they neared the kitchen, however, she slowed her pace as she shot him a warning frown.

  “There is magic being used ahead.”

  Dante gave a grim nod as he bent down to pull the daggers from his boots. He could have taken a gun from the guards he had captured, but the last thing he wanted was some nosy neighbor calling the cops.

  He doubted Chicago’s finest could be convinced that two vampires and a demon were the good guys.

  Slipping into the kitchen, Dante’s gaze flashed over the circle of witches who currently held Viper in a binding spell. Snarling with fury, the elder vampire was battling with all he was worth, but it was obvious for the moment he was trapped.

  Thankfully his struggles ensured that the witches were unaware of Dante’s approach. It was taking everything they possessed to keep Viper caged.

  Forced to halt as he determined which of the women had held his leash, Dante was briefly startled as a blur streaked past him and the Shalott was launching herself at the nearest witch. There was a loud shriek swiftly followed by another as Dante threw his dagger into the back of a chanting witch.

  Belatedly realizing their danger, the witches turned to face their latest threat and the spell faltered. Dante flowed forward even as Viper smiled with vicious anticipation.

  In the end, the battle was short and brutal. The older witches were dead at the hands of Viper and the Shalott while Dante had used his powers of enthrallment on the younger witches. They now sat huddled on the floor, nursing their injuries and obediently awaiting Dante’s commands.

  His hasty touch had been crushing as he had easily broken their spirit. They couldn’t so much as stir from the floor without his permission.

  Retrieving his dagger, he wiped the blood off before slipping it back into its sheath.

  As he straightened, he watched Viper slowly stalk toward the female demon, the older vampire’s eyes glittering with a dangerous fire.

  “Ah, the Shalott,” Viper murmured in silken tones. “Beautiful.”

  Moving until her back was to the wall, the demon held out a warning hand.

  “Stay back.”

  Viper chuckled. “I won’t harm you.”

  The Shalott tossed back her long mane of raven curls. Dante stifled a groan at the unconsciously provocative motion. With the bloodlust running hot in the air, the demon would be better served to play the role of a passive victim than to directly challenge Viper.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot,” she sneered. “Usually right before someone tries to harm me.”

  Not surprisingly, Viper slid forward and Dante hurriedly followed directly behind him.

  Dammit, they didn’t have time for this foolishness.

  Debating how much force would be needed to halt the determined vampire, Dante found himself careening off Viper’s wide back as he came to a sudden halt and sniffed the air.

  “Human,” he breathed.

  The Shalott’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You’re a mongrel.”

  Without warning, the demon leaped on Viper and toppled him to the ground. She ended up seated on his chest.

  “Don’t push it, vamp,” she growled.

  Viper laughed as he twisted to send her to the floor with his larger body pinning her down.

  “Don’t take on more than you can chew, human.”

  Dante had endured enough. His entire body vibrated with the need to find Abby and carry her from this house.

  “Are we going to fight the witches or each other?” he demanded sharply.

  Viper gave a nod as he flowed to his feet and tugged the reluctant Shalott off the floor.

  “We’ll have to finish our game later, pet,” he murmured as he moved directly to the door nearly hidden in the pantry. “Business first, I fear.”

  Chapter 25

  It seemed a shame to leave the darkness.

  The darkness was warm and soothing and didn’t have one psychopathic witch or rampaging zombie.

  And best of all, the darkness didn’t have the throbbing pain that she could feel lurking in the back of her head.

  Unfortunately, along with the throbbing in the back of her head was also the ev
er-present sense of Dante. Although they were separated, she could feel his cold fury as he battled to make his way to her side.

  Until he could reach the basement, it would be up to her to keep Edra from using the Phoenix to perform her demented spell.

  Damn.

  Slowly absorbing the pounding pain that seized her head, Abby wrenched open her eyes to discover she was strapped onto the slab of marble.

  Somehow she wasn’t a bit surprised.

  How sick was that?

  She bit back a groan and then like any fool who ever found themselves tied up, she instinctively struggled against the leather straps that held her down.

  It was a futile effort, of course. The straps were not overly tight, but they would hold her. Still, her movement had brushed her arm against her waist and reminded her of the dagger that was in its sheath. Her shirt had managed to hide the weapon, and thankfully the witch hadn’t thought to check her.

  Now if she could get her arms free to use it.

  Covertly she scooted to one side. As she expected, the strap bit into her left arm, but it eased the pressure on the other. On the point of discovering if she could wiggle her arm free, she was halted as a shadow fell over the table.

  “Ah, so you have awakened.” Edra smiled with cold pleasure.

  Forcing herself to hold perfectly still, Abby glared into the lizard eyes.

  “You must stop this,” she gritted.

  “It is too late. The spell will soon be cast.”

  The witch stepped closer, holding what looked to be a silver goblet. Abby shrank against the cold marble. She didn’t know what was in the strange goblet, but she was fairly certain she didn’t want to find out.

  At her movement, the candles flickered and her attention was captured by an unmoving lump in the middle of the floor.

  Her heart halted as she blinked, and then blinked again.

  It wasn’t a lump. It was the body of a woman with short black hair and the sort of Goth make-up that made it impossible to determine anything more than that she was female and young.

  And very, very dead.

  Lying on the hard floor, her eyes were wide as if caught in eternal surprise and her mouth open. Most horrid of all was the ugly gash that marred her throat and allowed her thick blood to pool onto the dirt below her chin.

  Abby gasped as she struggled against the rising nausea.

  “Holy hell. Did you kill her?” she croaked.

  “Such powerful magic demands blood.”

  Abby reluctantly turned back to the woman poised above her.

  “You’re crazy. You’re stark raving mad.”

  A flare of color stained her pasty cheeks. “You will shut your mouth. You know nothing of the sacrifices I have endured,” she hissed. “For three centuries I have devoted my life for this moment. While Selena pampered and preened and surrounded herself with luxury, I hid in the shadows and protected her. I faced the evil and kept it at bay. I looked into the heart of darkness to prepare myself to bring an end to those who would destroy the Phoenix. It is I who will save the world.”

  Abby shifted even farther to the side, further loosening her arm. She had to get free. There would be no reasoning with the lunatic. Whatever sanity she may once have possessed was long gone.

  “And so you deserve to slice open the throat of some innocent young girl?” she demanded, determined to keep the woman too angry to notice her odd wiggles.

  “Her death will serve a higher purpose.” There was not a flicker of remorse. “It is a fate we should all aspire to.”

  “I noticed you didn’t offer yourself up as the sacrifice.”

  The goblet trembled in Edra’s hands. “Shut up, you filthy bitch. You have defiled yourself with a vampire. You are not worthy to be the Chalice.”

  “Tough luck. I’m all you got.”

  “I will soon enough teach you some respect, just as I taught Selena.”

  Wiggle, wiggle.

  “Better bullies than you have tried.”

  Just for a moment, Abby thought she might have pushed the witch over the edge. The fevered glitter in her eyes was darkened to sheer fury, and her lips curled back into a snarl.

  The temptation to say “the hell with saving the world and punish the bitch as she deserves” held Edra in its grip before she gave a shiver and pulled back from utter lunacy.

  “No. You won’t distract me. Not now.”

  She reached her hand into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a small metal object. Abby frowned. After all the horrid things she had endured over the past few days, she had half-expected the witch to pull out a knife or snake or at least a magic rabbit.

  The small amulet seemed astonishingly harmless.

  At least until it was laid on the middle of her chest.

  At first there was nothing. Just a cold sensation that ran over her skin. Then, just when she began to hope that the piece of iron was a dud, the smell of smoke began to fill the air.

  Abby screamed as the amulet easily burned through the light fabric of her shirt and hit her skin.

  The metal was branding itself into her skin, and there was no guarantee it would halt before it managed to sear its way to her heart.

  “What are you doing?” she panted, struggling to free the dagger from its sheath. She no longer cared if the witch realized what she was doing or not. If she didn’t get free, the spell would be cast or she would be dead.

  Neither of which were acceptable alternatives.

  Thankfully Edra closed her eyes as she held the goblet directly over the amulet.

  “The amulet will help me to draw upon the power of the Phoenix,” she muttered.

  “Stop, it’s burning me.”

  The woman began to chant beneath her breath, and within the pain blazing through her body, Abby could sense the stirring of the spirit within her.

  With a grim effort, she managed to slide the dagger free but her arm remained trapped by the straps.

  Dear God, she wasn’t going to be in time.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she screamed for all she was worth.

  “Dante!”

  Already on the stairs, Dante moved with blurring speed to stand in the center of the cellar.

  His hands clenched as he discovered Abby tied to the marble table with the witch hovering beside her. Even from a distance he could make out the stench of charred flesh.

  “Abby . . .”

  “Dante, she’s doing the spell.”

  “The beast.” Edra’s eyes snapped open to pin Dante with a feverish glare. “I should have known you wouldn’t die so easily. Well, never fear. I won’t be so careless this time.”

  “Halt,” Dante growled as he felt Viper and the Shalott at his back.

  “We can’t let her complete the ritual,” Viper said in icy tones.

  “There is a barrier.”

  Viper cursed in an ancient language. “I hate magic.” He turned his head to the Shalott. “What of you? Can you breach the spell?”

  The demon shook her head. “No.”

  Dante’s teeth snapped together. He wanted to howl in frustration. Or kill someone.

  To be so close and not able to reach Abby was unbearable.

  Pacing the barrier, he growled low in his throat. The circle had been completed. It was closed until the witch had finished her spell.

  He had never felt so helpless in his life.

  And he bloody well didn’t like it.

  Continuing to follow the line of the circle, Dante searched for any means to distract the witch. If he could make her falter for even a moment, the barrier would be broken. She could never raise it before he and Viper were upon her.

  Easier said than done, however. There was nothing in the cellar that offered any help.

  Refusing to give up, he moved until he was standing directly behind the witch. There was a soft moan from Abby, and his gaze instinctively moved to where she was stretched on the slab.

  For a moment he could see nothing through his red haze of
fury. He had to get to her. Now.

  Then his attention was captured by the glint of candlelight off the dagger in her hand. He stilled as he realized she was using the keris to cut through the leather strap.

  His gaze locked with her own as he silently willed her to hurry. Already Edra was tilting the goblet to pour the blood on the amulet. She was completing the ritual that would allow her to bend the power of the Phoenix to her will.

  If the spell was spoken, he wouldn’t be able to rescue Abby.

  Or himself.

  He darted a sideways glance to make sure that Viper had noticed Abby’s attempt to escape. The older vampire gave a slight nod of his head.

  They moved together, ready to strike the moment the barrier was destroyed. The Shalott chose a spot directly in front of the witch. A demon with battle tactics.

  Go figure.

  Impervious to all but the spell she was casting, Edra held the goblet over her head and then slowly she lowered it to pour a measure of the thick blood directly onto the amulet.

  Dante froze.

  The spell was beginning.

  He might very well be dead before Abby ever got herself loose.

  The blood hit the amulet and sizzled against the searing heat. A strange humming filled Dante’s ears, and he pounded his fists futilely against the barrier.

  “Abby,” he rasped.

  As if sensing his rising panic, Abby gritted her teeth and sliced through the last bit of leather. The amulet on her chest seemed to flare as she knocked the smoldering iron off her skin and struggled to sit up.

  From behind, Dante watched as Edra froze in shock.

  In her arrogance, she thought that nothing could halt her glorious bid for power. Certainly not a mere slip of a woman with no ability to wield magic and no claim to the darker arts.

  She hadn’t counted on Abby’s stubborn determination.

  Something he had learned never to underestimate.

  Ignoring the obvious pain wracking her body, Abby managed to lift herself upward, using her momentum to slash out with the keris. Belatedly sensing her danger, the witch leaped backward, avoiding a killing strike.

  Thankfully the dagger managed to nick her upper arm, sending the goblet crashing to the floor.

 

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