by Barb Hendee
He certainly wasn’t capable of asking her, and he was coming to terms with some of his limitations.
She was here. She was tending his wounds. She was worried about him. That was all that mattered now.
He’d decide how to handle the feral vampire tomorrow.
Feeling slightly more settled, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on top of his suitcase. Then he went to the bed, leaning into the pillows up against the headboard. She seemed almost relieved that he didn’t want to talk about anything that happened tonight. She just came over and curled up beside him, resting her head on his stomach before closing her eyes.
For him, that was enough.
chapter six
That night, Eleisha woke up and raised her head quickly. Philip was awake, but lying still, just watching her. His body must have adjusted to the time difference. His face looked better—the gouges were down to red marks now. His throat was still bandaged.
“How is your throat?” she asked.
By way of answer, he reached and pulled off the gauze, lifting his head so she could see.
“Better,” she said. “You should be healed in a few more days. Do you need to feed?”
“No.”
Eleisha couldn’t help wondering how Wade was doing. He’d been shaken by his experience inside the vampire’s head the night before, and again, she’d been so focused on Philip, she hadn’t had the opportunity to catch Wade alone and ask if he was all right.
She climbed off the bed and moved toward her backpack. “Do you want the shower first?”
Before he could answer, the air shimmered and Seamus appeared. He glanced at Philip, who was still lying on the bed, and then at Eleisha in her nightclothes. For some reason—and she wasn’t sure why—his observance made her uncomfortable.
“I have a signature,” he said. “Down by Westminster Bridge.”
“Already?” she asked. “The sun just set.”
“He’s awake. How fast can you get dressed?”
Philip was already off the bed, grabbing a shirt. “Go tell Wade,” he said.
Not long after waking that night, Julian was out in the sitting room of the suite, watching Jasper practice with his sword. Julian offered a suggestion now and then. They’d moved the furniture back to make more room, and he was surprised at the improvement in Jasper’s skill since midsummer. Apparently, Jasper had found a Chinese martial arts instructor willing to engage in a private nighttime class.
“Don’t ever try to take a head one-handed,” Julian put in. “Always use both hands.”
Jasper nodded and continued practicing a block and thrust move. Julian was half-tempted to get his own sword and offer more detailed instruction in several moves his own master had taught him, but he had been his master’s social equal . . . and Jasper was lower than one of Julian’s housemaids. He could not reconcile himself to blurring these lines.
The air wavered, and Mary appeared. He was surprised to see her so early in the evening.
“Seamus picked up a signature down by Westminster Bridge,” she said. “Eleisha’s already on the move, and I think they might have a better plan this time.”
“What plan?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t hear everything, but I was floating up over their heads when they came out, and Seamus was already gone. All I heard was ‘Westminster Bridge’ and ‘three-way split’ and that they’re going to bring this vampire back to their hotel and lock him up when they catch him. So I figure they’re going to split up and try to cut him off from three directions?”
Jasper froze with his sword in midair. “You want me to go? See if I can slip in and take him out first?”
Julian didn’t answer.
He put his fist to his mouth, thinking. If this vampire was difficult for Mary to track, and Eleisha planned to lock him up in the hotel, several opportunities presented themselves. Once the vampire was trapped inside a room, Seamus would stop doing any active searches, allowing Julian to get much closer without so much risk of detection. He could use both Mary and Jasper to cause a distraction, something to keep Philip and Eleisha’s attention. Then he could go in through a window, take his prey by surprise, kill him, and be back outside before anyone knew what was happening.
After this, it was still possible Seamus might locate him or Jasper, but by then, it would be too late. If Eleisha’s group trapped this “wild” vampire quickly, in the early hours of the evening, this could all be over tonight.
“No,” he finally told Jasper. “We wait.” Jasper’s face fell, but Julian turned to Mary. “Let me know as soon as they’ve got him.”
Wade headed south by himself down the Victoria Embankment. The night was cold, and he had his canvas jacket buttoned up to his collarbone.
He, Eleisha, and Philip had decided to split up this time and try to trap the vampire between them, using one another’s positions to keep him from escaping. Philip hadn’t liked this plan at first, but then he’d seemed to change his mind and openly agreed.
So . . . at the moment, Philip was much farther down the embankment, walking north toward the bridge, and Eleisha had hidden herself between them in the shadows around Westminster Hall. Seamus had placed the vampire somewhere between them—and the men were supposed to use their presence to try to drive him toward the middle as near to Eleisha as possible, and out of sight of the general populace.
Then Wade would reach out telepathically again, and Eleisha would link but not bother trying to communicate this time. She would just hold the vampire with a mental command so Philip could take over physically, knocking him senseless long enough to lock him up at the hotel.
This plan was risky for Wade—in case the vampire bolted toward him—but Wade thought he could defend himself telepathically and get the vampire running in Eleisha’s direction, or at least he hoped so . . . and, in essence, this plan had been his idea.
He was determined to make it work.
The gurgling water of the river Thames flowed past him below, and he walked faster.
Philip headed north up the Victoria Embankment, already doing mental scans on his own. Though his long coat was bloodstained, he wore it over his sheathed machete, but since the wool was black, someone would have to look closely in the darkness to notice the stains.
At first, this plan of Wade’s had struck him as ridiculous and far too dangerous for either of his companions. But then . . . he realized it would give him some time on his own during the search.
He had no intention of letting this feral vampire anywhere near Eleisha or Wade, and his ability to home in telepathically was more advanced than he’d ever let on. He was going to track down this creature, kill it himself, and then claim self-defense.
As long as he was otherwise alone when he sliced that vampire’s head off, no one could question his word.
Eleisha hid outside in the shadows between the main building and the smaller east wing of Westminster Hall. She stood poised, even tense, expecting to hear in her head at any moment Wade’s telepathic voice telling her to follow his connection.
Like Philip, she had been uncertain of this plan at first, and she hadn’t liked the idea of the three of them splitting up. But from her few seconds of contact the night before, she knew this vampire could see and feel that they were different from mortals—or at least he could on a purely instinctive level. By coming at him from three directions, they might be able to keep him confused and panicked enough for Eleisha to get a mental hold on him before he started sending animals to attack them.
She’d never even heard of this ability and was curious to find out how it had developed.
Tonight, she wore the same jeans and short wool coat from last night, along with a pair of canvas sneakers. She wanted to be able to move freely and run at top speed if necessary.
She might not be as strong, but she was fast.
London was a busy city, and she hoped Philip and Wade would be able to drive their target back here to her and away from all the
people walking up and down the embankment.
The space where she stood was dark and quiet.
Wade should be contacting her any moment now.
Then suddenly, she heard Seamus’ voice in her ear. “Eleisha, the vampire is close to you. . . . He is very close.”
She went rigid. She couldn’t see Seamus, but, deciding she could not wait for Wade or Philip, she reached out telepathically to create a link to protect herself. Unfortunately, even though Seamus had warned her the vampire was close, she was not ready for immediate contact and stumbled forward when a barrage of madness hit her again.
The images were rapid and primal and drenched in fear. She fought to get control of the comingled thoughts and send a command, but she’d never been mentally tangled in anything like this before, and the permeation of fear was overwhelming.
Something flew straight at her from the darkness, and she tried to duck away, losing any mental connection. Incredibly strong hands grabbed her and threw her against the wall. She hit, striking her head hard against the bricks, and bounced off, falling to the ground. Looking up, she could see the vampire’s white face and black hair as he came at her again, hissing and spitting.
But Seamus fully materialized beside her in all his transparent glory. As the vampire charged, Seamus snarled back and took a swing. Of course, he couldn’t make contact, but he’d used this move before, and it always worked. Just the sight of his fist coming was enough to make anyone flinch.
The vampire spun away.
Everything was happening too fast.
Eleisha pushed herself up, struggling to clear her dazed head, reestablish contact, and send a command, but to her shock, the vampire just kept spinning all the way around, darting under Seamus’ arm and scrambling toward her.
She managed to fire off only one mental scream.
Philip!
Then she was pinned to the ground and a blinding, searing pain struck at her throat.
Philip heard the scream explode inside his head, and he was running before it faded, ignoring the startled faces of the people around him. Soon they became a blur.
He knew exactly where Eleisha had been stationed, and he jumped a low stone fence, running toward the isolated shadows of the inner side of the east wing of the hall.
Seamus was shouting from somewhere ahead. “Get away from her!”
Philip ran toward the sound. Skidding to slow himself, he came upon a scene that took a few seconds to absorb.
The feral vampire had Eleisha pinned to the ground, and he was tearing at her throat with his teeth. Her light-colored hair was soaked in blood. Seamus was still shouting, and, without coming to a full stop, Philip opened his coat and jerked the machete from its sheath.
He moved straight in, and the vampire had only an instant to look up, his white face smeared red. Philip kicked him hard in the side, tossing him away from Eleisha, and then moving after him with the blade level.
“Philip, no!” Wade shouted as the sound of his running footsteps mingled with his voice.
Philip ignored him and kept walking. He was taking this creature’s head off right now.
But the feral vampire somehow landed on all fours. His black eyes flashed to Philip, and then he whirled to dart away.
Philip rushed after him, only one goal driving him.
Stop!
Every muscle in his body jerked to a halt as the command pierced his mind. He’d never felt anything like it. Rage and despair followed as the vampire disappeared into the night.
His muscles began to ease, and some control of his body returned. He turned his head to see Eleisha on her hands and knees on the ground, dark blood running down her throat as she stared at him with wild eyes.
“What were you going to do?” she managed to choke, putting one hand to her torn throat.
“Did you stop me?” he nearly shouted back. He couldn’t believe it.
“Were you going to kill him?” she asked.
“Wade, she’s hurt,” Seamus called.
“I’m here,” Wade called back, running up and dropping beside Eleisha.
Philip was having trouble following the words and activity, but then he realized he could move again. The vampire was gone.
“Seamus, start tracking,” he ordered. “And don’t tell me you can’t find him this time!”
Seamus didn’t move. His eyes dropped to Philip’s blade.
Wade tore off the bottom of his own shirt and began tying it around Eleisha’s throat, but she stopped his hand and struggled up to her feet, staring at Philip. He was ready for her. It was time he dropped any pretense of some “rescue mission.”
From now on, they were doing things his way.
Mary floated over the roof of the east wing, and Seamus seemed far too occupied to sense for her.
She’d watched the whole scene play out and couldn’t help being impressed by how he’d waited until the last second to materialize and then used both the element of surprise and a hard swing to startle that crazy vamp.
She used both those tricks herself a few times—but he was a whole lot more intimidating.
She’d grown alarmed, however, when the vampire started biting Eleisha. Julian would be more than mad if Mary let Eleisha get her head ripped off, but he wanted her to stay out of sight, too. In a moment of indecision she almost popped down to the scene. Thank God Philip had come running in when he did.
But now . . . the tension meter on the ground was shooting up. Bleeding or not, Eleisha was squaring off against Philip, with her right hand on her throat and her left hand in a fist.
Mary floated a little closer to listen.
“What were you going to do?” Eleisha asked again. Her throat was torn open, and she was in pain, but she knew Philip too well, and she’d seen that look in his eyes before. “We didn’t come all this way so you could kill him.”
He took one more look into the darkness where the wild vampire had escaped, and then he strode back to her, leaning down so he could put his face directly in front of hers. He used this aggressive stance to intimidate others sometimes, but she didn’t back up an inch.
“It’s over,” he stated flatly, and then he half turned to Wade. “Look at her throat! You want to bring that thing home? You want it around Rose?”
To Eleisha’s shock, Wade’s expression wavered, almost as if he agreed with Philip. What was happening?
“You both say you’re trying to protect mortals? To teach vampires the old laws?” Philip rushed on. In his anger, he seemed to have overcome his difficulty finding words, and they spilled out of his mouth. “But you will never teach that thing to feed without killing. You’ll never even teach it how to speak. It has to be put down. It is feral!”
Eleisha grew quiet inside, noting how he’d switched to using “it” to describe this vampire. He had never shown any interest in the old laws. Her throat was beginning to feel as if it were on fire, and she could feel her blood leaking out, but this moment was crucial, and again, she didn’t back up.
“So were you,” she said softly.
He winced as if she’d slapped him, taking a few moments for those words to sink in.
“I was not like him,” he answered in clipped words.
“No, you were worse. I saw you.”
His face looked like chiseled stone as she said this, and a wealth of unspoken knowledge passed between them. She knew his past existence embarrassed him—more than embarrassed him—and that he’d shown her only selected pieces of his memories. But he also now knew that Robert had shared memories with Eleisha, and she’d seen images of Philip shortly after he’d been turned . . . when he was savage and half-naked and couldn’t even speak.
The two of them understood each other quite well, but Eleisha was growing weaker with each word.
Wade was looking between them in confusion until Eleisha stumbled and fell forward to one knee. Philip reached her first, picking her up off the ground and holding her in an angry grip against his chest.
“We
need to get her back to the hotel,” Wade said quietly.
“Take off your jacket. Try to cover her up,” Philip said.
“My jacket . . . no.” Wade hesitated, and Eleisha began losing track of the conversation. “Just stick to backstreets and go in through a side door,” Wade was saying. “Even if I covered her, you can’t just carry her through the lobby like that.”
Philip started walking, and she tried to hold on to his neck.
She needed him to listen. “Don’t kill him,” she whispered in his ear. “Please, please, Philip, give him a chance.”
He didn’t answer.
Julian looked at Mary expectantly when she materialized in the sitting room in the Great Fosters’ suite.
“Do they have him?” Julian asked. “Is he locked up at the Montague?”
She tilted her head and answered slowly. “No . . . but if you want this crazy vamp dead, you may not even need to go outside.”
“And why is that?”
“‘Cause I think Philip is going to kill him for you.”
chapter seven
Eleisha lay on her bed in the upstairs room of the suite. Rose had cut her out of the bloody shirt rather than trying to pull it over her head, and had then bandaged her throat tightly.
Seamus had vanished as they’d started back for the hotel, and he’d not reappeared. Philip paced the bedroom, just waiting for him to return. Wade and Rose were both watching him with equal measures of discomfort, and Eleisha wanted to read their minds.
She was weak and light-headed, but she drew on any inner reserves of strength she had, knowing she would have to take action tonight. Once Philip set his mind, he was like a freight train barreling forward, and she didn’t know how to stop him.