by Jess Haines
She plopped down on her bed, sinking into the thick comforter, then patted the spot beside her. Swallowing hard, I rolled my shoulders and flexed my hands in an effort to get rid of some of the building tension in my muscles, but the knots only grew tighter.
She wasn’t Max. She wasn’t going to hurt me. I knew it, but I couldn’t fight the unreasoning fear of her that sprang up at the sight of those strange shadows.
“Remember, I am no danger to you.”
I nodded, willing myself to believe it. I forced myself to take the few steps necessary to join her, settling into the other side of the bed and curling up so I wouldn’t have to face her.
Every movement, every shift of her weight and breathy sigh made my hackles raise. Fane had already gotten my blood pressure up, bringing out the beast lurking inside me and all of the hidden instincts and desires that entailed. Beyond the room, I sensed warmth and life, the pounding of several hearts, and the unnatural cold of creatures that had something almost as sweet under their skin.
My fingers twitched with the desire to let the claws come out so I could properly hunt. The soup sat heavy in my stomach, alleviating the worst of my hunger but not dulling the desire to have something more like hot copper filling my mouth and throat.
Arnold would probably let me close enough to hurt him. Just a little cut. It didn’t have to be so bad, and then maybe the cravings would go away for a little while.
I wanted to be sick with myself, that I could be so single-minded and even consider hurting one of my friends. Wanted to be. I just couldn’t shake the thought that there was flesh and blood in this house that could feed these new needs of mine.
Keeping my eyes shut tight, I repeated a silent mantra to myself, biting the knuckle of my right thumb to keep myself focused.
I would not hurt my friends. I would save Sara. Arnold would find a way to make this stop.
I. Would. Not. Hurt. My. Friends.
It took a very long time for sleep to take me.
Chapter Twenty
I huddled in my new jacket, my gloved hands shoved into my armpits for warmth and my head bowed. Kumiho was on my left, Arnold my right. The magi were spread out in a semicircle behind us and the vampires had their backs.
The night was clear and cold, a fresh coat of snow dusting the road like a glaze of powdered sugar. Well, powdered sugar with a bunch of fresh tire tracks. Before selecting a gathering spot, we had done a couple of passes around the property checking for cops doing surveillance or a security detail. Both were conspicuously absent. There were no cars parked on the side of the road, and the only tire tracks were our own.
After Kumiho and Angus decided it was worth risking and that no one was around to see, we parked on the street near where I had escaped, the wall surrounding Max’s property not yet visible through the trees. The theory being that, while Max might feel my approach and figure I had backup, if we avoided the security cameras, he wouldn’t realize how many people I had with me. It was the only element of surprise we could hope for.
That, and the magis’ plan to burn down the outer buildings like the guesthouse and the guard shack at the main entrance.
There had been some bitter arguments between Angus and Arnold before we left. Angus wanted to preserve the property for some reason he refused to divulge, but Arnold wanted to cut off escape routes. Kumiho sided with Arnold, which put an end to the initial argument but brought up another one about how they planned on covering the exits.
My eyes had glazed over while they all strategized and bitched and snarked at each other. A couple of times I was asked to point out locations I knew, like the entrance to the underground cells where I had first woken up and the room on the upper floor where Max had kept me. Producing the maps I had sketched out while Kumiho had been running her errands, and then stuffed in a pocket, forgotten, kept them busy for a few minutes. Since we had no idea if Sara would still be in that room, Arnold didn’t want to risk burning down any part of the main building.
Angus and Kumiho disagreed with him on that, arguing that something should be done to hem the rival vampires inside and leave them only one way out. Fire was a great deterrent to all creatures, alive and undead, so setting the outside ablaze so no one could escape through windows or any other exits seemed like a great idea to them.
Arnold didn’t want to risk losing Sara or anyone else in the fire and was arguing for a less dangerous spell.
Seeing as I had no idea what the magi could do, aside from firebomb the place, I didn’t have much to add to the conversation. They eventually decided that five of the magi, along with several vampire bodyguards, would remain outside to cast some kind of protective shield to trap everyone—Max and his people, the rest of Royce’s vampires, Arnold, Kimberly, Kumiho and me—inside.
It might have been cold outside, but knowing I was walking right back into Max’s clutches was the real reason my knees were knocking together.
Along with Kumiho, Arnold planned to stick by my side, and Angus vowed to add himself to my bodyguard detail. It should have made me feel safe, but I had seen what Max could do. The gun tucked into the holster at my waist would have given me a confidence boost if I wasn’t going up against a vampire fast enough to dodge the bullets.
Angus hadn’t mentioned what we were waiting for, but when another car pulled to a stop behind our line of vehicles, I figured it was for the last of our backup. More fool I.
The driver, a man in a chauffeur’s suit, who had dark dreadlocks threaded with white beads that clicked with every stride, moved to open the back passenger door. Lo and behold, out stepped Francisco, the sloe-eyed Cajun. This time his suit was some kind of shiny satin material, the color somewhere between brown and gray. It screamed of too much money and not enough taste, kind of like that sly, cunning smile. Just as it had been when I first met him in Max’s home.
My hand whipped straight to the gun holstered at my hip, but Kumiho grabbed my wrist before I could draw the weapon and shook her head in warning. Angus stepped forward, the Highlander going so far as to bow in deference to Francisco. The other vampire didn’t return the gesture.
The driver stepped aside and cleared his throat, his voice a smooth drawl with a hint of a heavier accent. “May I present Monsieur Francisco Dane Zafis LaFontaine, premier prince du sang of the Americas, and Master of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Arkansas.”
“Master of New Orleans, it is an honor,” Angus said, though he didn’t sound like he meant it. Judging by the way Francisco’s eyes narrowed, I had the feeling that Angus’s choice of words was considered some kind of an insult, too.
I opened my mouth to protest this farce, but Kumiho’s grip tightened to the point where the bones in my wrist ground together. I ended up biting off a yelp of pain instead.
Angus shot me a warning look, then completed his spiel to Francisco with a bit more sincerity. “The Master of New York sends his greetings.”
“I’m sure he does,” Francisco replied, glancing at me over the rims of glasses tinted to match the color of his suit. “I prefer he send me his statement of release.”
“Once the goods are exchanged and my Master receives confirmation ye haven’t interfered, it’s yours.”
I watched this exchange, tense, wondering what the hell was going on. Francisco had been a guest in Max’s home, had taken advantage of his hospitality, and had quite possibly purchased people from the slave auctions. I couldn’t remember if he had been one of the vampires to walk away with a shiny, new, better-at-everything-than-me human, but, based on what I had seen of him, I had to assume he was too chummy with Max to be trusted.
“Why is he here?” I hissed the question at Kumiho, never taking my eyes off him.
He answered me before Kumiho could. “Because I owe your Master a favor, cher. And I always pay my debts.”
“How can we trust you? I saw you in there. With him.”
He just smiled.
Fucking vampires and their smug attitudes.
“H
e’s nae threat just now, lass. He knows what it will cost him if he tells anyone what we’re about.”
“Later is another matter,” Francisco added.
“Aye. Let’s be quick about this. We’ve got a war to win.”
Francisco inclined his head, then reached into his jacket to pull a small packet out of an inner pocket. He held out the packet, which Angus took and tucked away in his own inner jacket pocket. The two exchanged tense nods, then stepped away from each other. As Francisco’s driver held his door open, he tilted his head to peer at me over his glasses one more time.
“Tread carefully, mon cher. You are an interesting piece. I would hate to see you taken from the board before the game is through.”
I ... wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He winked at me, then ducked into the car, out of my view. We all watched the chauffeur in what was probably uncomfortable silence for him as he picked his way through the slush and around to the driver’s side. The car was soon pulling into a U-turn, the taillights disappearing back into the night as the vehicle whisked around a curve in the road.
Whatever the others may have thought, I was certain Francisco couldn’t be trusted, and that he must have done something to screw this up for us. Not in an obvious way. There would be some trap waiting for us once we were too deep inside to get out again, I just knew it.
Angus’s voice rumbled in the darkness, as close to a whisper as the Highlander could get. “Are we ready?”
No. Nope, nope, nope, never, ever, not in a million years.
Despite my misgivings, a soft string of whispered “aye”s and “yes”es spurred us on. I beat my survival instinct into submission and led the way through the trees, ignoring the voice screaming in the back of my head to turn around and run while I still could.
It didn’t take long for us to reach the wall. When I was running away, it had felt like there was a much bigger stretch of forest between me and the road, but that was probably because at the time I had been trekking through the underbrush in ill-fitting heels and in the most pain I had ever experienced in my life. The hiking boots Kumiho had given me for tonight’s venture fit far better, as did the sweater, jeans, and jacket she had bought me. Arnold had a small pack slung over his shoulder with the clothes and shoes she’d bought for Sara. I hoped I had remembered her sizes correctly.
I also hoped she was still alive and would need them before the night was out.
Once we reached the wall, two of the vampires climbed to the top, fingers finding purchase or biting into the frozen stone with sharp cracks. At the top, the pair peered over to check for any patrols or other signs we would have a welcome party waiting for us on the other side. Before long, they were signaling it was clear, holding out their hands to help the magi over while the other vampires climbed or leapt to the top.
I accepted an offered hand, though I bit back a yelp of surprise when I was yanked up, only to find myself face-to-face with Fane. My free hand shot out, clutching his arm for balance. He grinned at me with a hint of fang, a glimmer of red flashing deep in his eyes as he helped me steady myself on the ledge on top of the wall.
“Watch your step.”
The rolling lilt of his voice didn’t sound like a challenge, even though his stare and smirk told me it was. Tempting though it was to the animal side of me, I didn’t rise to his bait, yanking my hand free. His footing slipped and he had to make a quick grab and shift his weight, barely keeping his balance. Without bothering to lend him a hand, I leapt down to land in a fluid crouch. He didn’t say anything else, but I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in my back.
I took a deep breath, focusing on the sprawling mansion perhaps an acre away. Max hadn’t made any attempt to get into my head yet, so I hoped he hadn’t noticed I had returned. He’d know soon enough.
Once everyone was safely over the wall, five vampires paired off with the five magi who would trap us inside, four of the pairs striking off to set up their impromptu circle around the property. Nothing would go in or out of it until they let the shield fall. Two hours, they said. That was the maximum amount of time they could hold a circle of that size, even working together.
I had the feeling we had far less time than that to decide how this battle would turn.
It took longer than I expected for them to find their places. The property was big, and they had to do everything they could to avoid detection. The vampires didn’t appear bothered by the wait, but Kumiho was growing restless, flexing her hands repeatedly and staring a bit too intently in the direction of that mansion. There wasn’t any trouble, but Xander, the mage who had stayed behind, commented how it was also taking them so long because they had to shift the local ley lines into alignment. “Too wild and untapped” was how he put it, moving his hands like a conductor of an orchestra to shift something I couldn’t detect.
He and Arnold both stiffened and looked to the north at the same time. Something was moving against the snow. A human shape. Not one of our people. Running back to the main building.
Kumiho grinned in a way I didn’t like. “Start your distractions, little wizardlings. I’ll return in a moment.”
She took off at a sprint, far faster than the other figure was going. She would catch up to whoever that was soon.
Arnold shouted something I didn’t catch, some guttural-sounding word, gesturing in the direction of what I thought might be a guesthouse. It looked like a firework shot from his hand, lighting up the snow in a glittering yellow-red arc as it raced to the building.
The impact was like a missile from a rocket launcher, punching through the outer wall and exploding with a shock wave that sent most of us staggering back and throwing up our arms to protect our eyes from the flash. The ground shuddered under my feet, and a straight, narrow depression formed in the snow like a miniature valley. It led directly from the guesthouse to the mansion. Angus had been right. There was—had been—an escape tunnel there.
On the other side of the house, more fireworks went off, the flash briefly blinding me. I hoped whatever they were casting didn’t cause the prison rooms beneath the house to collapse like the escape tunnel had.
Though my ears were ringing, I still heard Arnold just fine. “Holy shit. That was fucking awesome!”
Xander laughed. The rest of us sidled a few steps away. Yes, even me.
“Careful there, lad,” Angus muttered, giving me a nudge to get me moving along Kumiho’s tracks. Kimberly and the remaining vampires, save for the one assigned to be Xander’s bodyguard, were soon following us. “Don’t let the power go to yer head. We need ye focused on the task at hand.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,” Arnold said.
No kidding. Shaking my head to dispel the lingering ringing sound, I focused on Kumiho’s tracks in the snow, scanning ahead to spot her as I sped up. Angus quickly passed me, taking the fore, and Arnold picked up his pace to run beside me.
I came to a screeching halt when I saw what Kumiho was doing, Arnold plowing into me from behind to send me into a spectacular face-plant in the snow.
Chapter Twenty-One
Arnold landed in a sprawl on my back, and I was momentarily blinded by snow. It didn’t take him long to roll off me. Rough, huge hands dug into my jacket between my shoulder blades and yanked me back to my feet. I flailed and batted at them with one arm, the other scrubbing furiously at my face to get the snow out of my eyes.
“Are ye ruddy daft, woman?”
Blinking the last of the melting snow out of my eyes, I squinted at Angus, then the hulking form of the creature looming over the blood-spattered corpse of the person who had been fleeing from Kumiho.
I knew it was her. Shreds of her jeans and unmistakable hot pink jacket dotted the snow around her. Even with the thick smell of blood on the air, I recognized her scent. It made sense now, why she smelled musky and strange, Were-but-not.
The creature lifted its head, and bright orange eyes peered at me. It had a body that reminded me of a shifted werewolf. A kind
of animalistic half-man, something equally at home on two legs or four, with claw-tipped black hands that could easily be mistaken for paws. Silky orange fur covered the top of its muzzle and most of the body, with black, tufted ears, white on the underside of its jaw, belly, and on the tips of all nine of its poofy tails flicking and swaying like serpents.
Nine. Tails. I shit you not.
It let out a yip-like sound that might have been a laugh before dipping its muzzle back to its gruesome business.
I turned away, putting a hand to my stomach and breathing through my mouth to keep the meaty scent and ripping, tearing sounds from making me toss my cookies. Arnold was sitting in the snow next to me, staring, gone a sickly shade of green.
“Kumiho. Kitsune. I should have known,” he said, voice hollow.
“Kitsune?” I asked. The term was vaguely familiar, like something I might have known before but forgot.
“What, you thought Soo-Jin’s name was Kumiho?” Fane’s derisive voice startled me. “That’s what she is, not her name. She got her pound of flesh. Let’s get ours, aye?”
“Aye,” Angus affirmed.
He reached out to pull Arnold to his feet, helping him on his way toward the mansion. I avoided looking at Soo-Jin, or Kumiho, or whoever she was, and her impromptu meal as I trudged past, focusing as best I could on our target. Every rip, tear, and crunch made me flinch, but I managed to keep the bile down, and not to run screaming from the demon-fox Soo-Jin had turned into.
Once Kimberly caught up with us, gasping for breath, she barely managed out a “Hey, what’s happ—” before she spotted what the rest of us had already seen and barfed.
Fane surprised me again by staying behind with her, waiting to one side for her to collect herself while the rest of us moved on. I didn’t want to be the one to tell the young mage, but chances were high she would see much worse before the night was through. Her reaction did not bode well for how she would handle the fight to come.