Of Blood and Passion

by Pamela Palmer

  Closing her eyes, she pulled away from that well of sorrow, immersing herself instead in the sensation, in the heat, meeting him thrust for thrust until they were both climbing, racing toward the sun, exploding into a million heat-filled pieces each one of which floated slowly back down through the air.

  Arturo collapsed on top of her, then rolled slightly until he was only half on her. The blankets rose all around them and she did wonder how they were ever going to fight their way out again. But for now she was content to lie within Arturo’s strong arms, against his now-warm body, and pretend they didn’t have to worry about whether either of them would survive the night.

  After a time, Quinn looked up to find him watching her with deep, fathomless eyes. She stroked his jaw. “Were you successful in enlisting the aid of the kovenas?”

  “For the most part. Of the four Kassius and I visited, three have pledged full support. One, Borzilov, is aligned with Cristoff and refuses to move his kovena against him. But I do not believe he’ll send troops to fight with Cristoff.”

  “What about the other four?”

  “Micah and Lukas were not yet back when I came to find you.” He turned to her, his dark gaze grabbing hold of hers. “I want you to go home, Quinn. Now, before the battle begins.”

  “What do you mean…home?”

  “D.C. Farther than D.C. Perhaps California. Or Japan.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could form words, he continued.

  “Take Lily. When the battle is over, I will search for Zack. If I find him, if he’s well, I’ll set him free.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “You must.” His expression was suddenly as intense as she’d ever seen it. “I want you to be happy, cara. I want you to find a man you can love, one who will walk with you in the sunlight and give you babies with beautiful green eyes.”

  “Turo.” She stared into his dark, determined gaze, her own emotions a hopeless tangle. “I’m not leaving. This is my battle, too.”

  “You have lost your power.”

  “Not all of it. I still have a little, more when we work together.”

  Frustration ignited in the dark depths of his eyes. “I will have no time to concentrate on your tricks, Quinn, not in the middle of battle. I will be consumed with saving all of our lives. I do not want you there to distract me.”

  Her tricks? She understood he only wanted her safe, but his word choice annoyed her. “Tough.” She rolled away from him, fighting her way out of the blankets to stand. As she dressed, she glared at him. “I’m not leaving, Vampire. And you damn well better not try to make me.”

  He rose from the bed with annoying ease and slid into his own clothes, vampire-fast. She could feel his frustration, see his anger. “You will get yourself killed. For what? In all probability Zack is already dead.”

  His words were razor sharp, meant to hurt, and they did. Quinn fisted her hands, longing to slug him.

  “You want to know what I’m fighting for?” she asked, pulling her shirt on over her head. “Do you want to know?” But before she could tell him, her world exploded in a single mass of excruciating pain. An unseen noose tightened around her throat, cutting off her air.

  Chapter 41

  Arturo leaped to his feet, racing to Quinn. He wasn’t sure what was happening until, suddenly, a male in some kind of maintenance uniform appeared in front of them, clutching at his throat much as Quinn clutched at hers.

  The worlds were merging again. Dio. What was Cristoff doing? Scaring them? Suffocating them? He’d kill them all!

  “Tesoro, open your mouth. Let me see.”

  Her struggle, her terror, flayed him alive, but she did as he asked even as she struggled for air. But he could see nothing, no blockage, nothing for him to tear away or battle against.

  He didn’t know what to do! But of a certainty, he couldn’t stand here and do nothing. Sweeping her into his arms, he ran through the underground, leaping over half a dozen more humans who’d suddenly appeared, humans all in the throes of strangulation. Racing up the stairs, he found them everywhere. But scattered among them were his friends—Mukdalla, Neo, Lukas, Amanda. The immortals were suffocating just as completely as the humans. And while they would take longer to die, no creature could live indefinitely without air.

  Something hit the roof. Then something else. Again and again, as if the sky were falling on top of them. Or humans.

  “Ax!” Micah made his way to him, his eyes almost as wild as those struggling to pull in air. “I don’t know how to help them.”

  Around them, the thrashing was beginning to fade as one by one, the victims lost consciousness.

  Quinn’s eyes were round with terror as she stared into his. Her hands clawed at her throat, then began to slacken as he felt her losing her own hold on consciousness.

  “Cara, you must hold on. Hold on!”

  Suddenly, she gasped and took a deep, lung-filling breath.

  Arturo nearly sank to his knees in relief. He pulled her tight against him, cradling her, treasuring her. Belatedly, he realized the humans who’d suddenly appeared had disappeared again, just as quickly.

  His friends, too, were again beginning to breathe.

  “Lily!” Quinn cried.

  Micah turned, then lunged for the girl who had apparently fallen unconscious. But even as he reached her, she began to gasp and cough, slowly opening her eyes.

  Quinn sank against him, her arm curved around his neck, her head tilting against his as relief softened her body. “You can put me down.”

  His chest was still tight from having nearly lost her. Again. “I would rather not.”

  She pulled back, a smile softening her eyes, and she kissed him lightly. “You would slay all my dragons.”

  “Always. But one in particular.”

  Her smile died. “Cristoff. I felt him again.”

  He set her on her feet, but kept one arm protectively around her. “Explain.”

  “I’m not sure I can. Just as I’m starting to feel your emotions, I’ve been feeling his. Ever since he stabbed me. It’s almost as if, in taking my magic he formed a connection between us. Heaven knows, I don’t want a soul cord with him.”

  “What did you feel?”

  “This time, confusion. Then a rush of elation. He enjoyed our suffocating, but I don’t think he meant for it to happen. My guess is that he’s not in control of his power, yet. He’s learning what he can do, largely by trial and error.”

  “He’s powerful,” Mukdalla said brushing off her skirt.

  Quinn nodded. “And he’s barely scratched the surface.”

  “God help us all,” Neo muttered.

  Sam strode in the back door and made a beeline for Amanda, pulling her tight against him.

  “Clean up?” Arturo asked.

  Quinn looked at him with confusion.

  Sam shook his head, his face ashen. “They’re gone.”

  “What are you talking about?” Quinn asked.

  Sam’s gaze moved from Quinn to Arturo, and back again. “The worlds merged on this side this time. But only the people. Not the buildings they were in.”

  In his arms, Quinn jerked with shock, swaying. He saw the horror in her eyes, felt it, as she realized that thousands had just lost their lives and hundreds more probably lay broken and dying. When the worlds merged, and their multi-story buildings disappeared beneath them, they’d fallen, many undoubtedly to their deaths.

  “We have to help them.”

  “They’re gone, cara. They returned to D.C.”

  She clung to him for several minutes more, one arm wrapped around her middle as if trying to breathe around the blow. Slowly she straightened and turned to face him, her eyes glowing with righteous fire and fury.

  “You wanted to know what I’m fighting for, what I would risk my life for. This. Stopping this. Stopping him.”

  Deep within that connection they’d formed, within the core of her fury at Cristoff, he felt her
courage and protectiveness rearing up like a lioness’s to surround all those in Neo’s kitchen. And more. Many more. That need to protect and save extended outward to all those in Vamp City. To all those suffering and dying in D.C.

  She would protect the world, both worlds, from the monster that was his father. Her heart, so long closed, had opened wide enough to embrace a multitude.

  He wondered if it was yet wide enough to embrace him.

  “Ax,” Kassius said, striding in the back door. “The wolves have arrived.”

  “How many?”

  “Both packs. Most of the wolves in V.C.” When every male in the room shot to his feet, Kassius held up his hand. “They’ve set up a perimeter around Neo’s to protect the sorceress.”

  Arturo frowned. “I told them to wait for us in the Crux.”

  Kassius’s gaze turned to Quinn. “The old legend is spreading through V.C. like wildfire.”

  “What legend?” Quinn asked warily, hoping he didn’t mean the one that claimed that sorcerer’s flesh empowered the wolf that ate it. That one had nearly gotten her killed.

  But Kassius was referring to another. “The tale of the Healer and the Snake and how, together, you will save the world,” he told them. “Savin has informed me that his wolves will follow the two of you and no others. Nor will they follow one of you alone. Legend says that together you will fight. Only together will you win. And wolves are nothing if not superstitious.”

  Quinn turned to Arturo, flashing green eyes now lit with fire and satisfaction. Her mouth turned up in a savage smile. “I’m not leaving. End of discussion.”

  And though the thought of her anywhere near that battle, especially with her magic all but gone, turned his blood and bones to ice, he knew she was right. He’d never stop her.

  And the truth of those words just made him love her more.

  Chapter 42

  “How are we going to stop Cristoff?” Jean-Luc Oubre, asked. The powerful vamp was one of five vampire masters now sitting around Neo’s kitchen table along with Quinn, Arturo, Kassius, Micah, and the werewolf Savin.

  Poor Neo, Quinn thought. For decades he’d kept his house and operation a secret. Now half the vampires and virtually all the werewolves in the city were either in his house or prowling the perimeter of his yard.

  The vampires had been arriving over the past hour from all over the city—five kovenas, so far. Word had spread quickly that the wolves were the first to pledge fealty to the Healer and the Snake and now none of the vampires wanted to be the last to do the same. Most of the vampires now resided in Neo’s basement where they were safe from the sunbeams. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for any of them to hide from Cristoff’s attacks of pain and terror.

  “Tassard may have an idea,” Sakamoto said, glancing back at the youthful-looking vampire who stood against the wall, listening, with half a dozen others including Lukas and the werecat twins. “Tassard was alive in the days of Nerian, the only other vampire to drink of the Black Wizard’s power through Escalla.”

  Tassard stepped forward, a different man from the indolent, brandy-sipping jerk who’d nearly ripped her throat out. Why he’d changed so drastically in a matter of hours, Quinn didn’t know, though she suspected the threat Cristoff now posed had shaken a few manners into him. Though only a few.

  “I know for a fact that Nerian could not be killed by any of the usual methods,” he told them now. “For nearly four centuries we tried. Not until his own queen stabbed him with Escalla did he die.”

  “And Nerian’s queen did not acquire his power, oui?” Jean-Luc Oubre asked.

  “She did not,” Tassard said, glancing at Quinn, the hint of a smirk in his eyes telling her he hadn’t changed much after all. “The only way to acquire the power of the Black Wizard is by thrusting Escalla deep into one of the wizard’s heirs.”

  Quinn glanced at Arturo, saw his mouth hardening, and knew they were both thinking the same thought. The Black Wizard had only been stabbed once, because he’d died from his wound. Quinn had not. And while all of these vampire masters had, presumably, reclaimed their souls, even honorable men were known to succumb to the lure of great power.

  On the one hand, as strong as Cristoff now was, the chances of him losing his prized sword—and her being stabbed with it a second time—were exceedingly low. On the other hand…

  “We will have to steal Escalla and wield it against Cristoff if we wish to stop him,” Arturo said, clearly attempting to turn all thoughts back to the conversation at hand and away from the potential of any of them claiming that power for himself.

  The back door opened and Sam stuck his head in. “Fabian Neptune’s kovena has arrived.”

  Quinn met Arturo’s gaze with dismay. After their last experience with Fabian, she’d be happy never to see him again.

  “I can’t fit another sixty vampires in my house,” Neo said, standing in the doorway, his eyes a little wild.

  “Of course we can fit them,” Mukdalla said, patting his shoulder. “We’ll pack them in like sardines, if we have to. The sunbeams are breaking through too often now to let any of the vampires remain outside. Thank the heavens most of the basement exists in both worlds.”

  They’d discovered a half an hour ago, during the third convergence of the two worlds, that one wing of the basement was solid dirt in the D.C. world. Fortunately, only vampires had been in that space—about a dozen of Sakamoto’s contingent—when the worlds converged. For nearly five minutes, they’d been buried alive, but they’d survived, though not without a thoroughly renewed sense that Cristoff must be stopped at all cost.

  “There’s still room in the stables,” Micah said. “They’re light tight. There’s also the safe house. It’s not far.”

  “The safe house,” Neo said with relief. “That’s where we’ll put them. The windows have all been blacked out. They’ll be all right there.”

  “I’m happy to lead them,” Sam said. “But they’re insisting on seeing the sorceress, first, like everyone else.”

  Though at first it bemused her that the vampires all insisted on offering her fealty, Quinn was beginning to realize that her surviving Escalla, as well as being one of the main players in the legend of the Healer and the Snake, had turned her into something of a miracle to the inhabitants of Vamp City.

  Quinn rose. As she headed for the back door, Arturo, Micah, and Savin fell into step behind her. They were her constant shadows, now. Neither Arturo nor Micah fully trusted the other vampires, fae, or wolves, including Savin, though they did seem to appreciate his show of support.

  Arturo opened the back door before Quinn could reach for the handle, and she stepped out beneath a sky that had the hair rising on her arms. The cracks that had, at first, appeared blue had turned bright red, as if the sky were beginning to bleed, turning the daylight reddish-orange, making her think of the End of Days. It was as if the fires of Hell pressed in from the other side, threatening to break through at any minute.

  As they started across the yard, Quinn found herself tensing, not because of the vampires—or wolves, for that matter—but because of the constant threat that the earth might rumble again. If it did, she might be able to form a bubble big enough to at least save Arturo and Micah, but only if Arturo was within reach.

  The sunbeams had been breaking through far less than before she was stabbed—only one since the last pain world appearance. Whatever Cristoff was doing, seemed to be having an effect on the crumbling of Vamp City. But no one knew if that was a good thing or bad.

  Far to the back of the house, a group of some sixty vampires stood stiffly, held at bay by dozens of wolves. At the front of this latest group to arrive stood an unassuming male of average height, his body past its prime, his head bald but for a thin salt and pepper fringe that hung nearly to his shoulders.

  Fabian Neptune, one of the most powerful and dangerous vampires in Vamp City, watched her wolves with a wariness that almost made her smile. That pleasure-feeding bastard had come damn close to rap
ing her while she and Arturo were ‘guests’ in his palace.

  Quinn turned to Arturo, keeping her voice low. “Do we really trust him?”

  “Presumably, he, too, has reclaimed his soul, cara.” Which, she noticed, was neither a yes nor a no.

  As she and her companions neared the wolves, the animals parted, making way for them. Savin was the only one of the wolves who’d remained in human form and he now wore jeans, at her request. His second-in-command, still in wolf form, fell into step beside Micah. This show of alliance had become ritual as each of the kovenas arrived.

  A rumble of voices slid through Fabian’s group, drawing the attention of their master. Fabian’s gaze turned to her, his expression softening with a mix of gratitude, admiration, and a startling, aching, regret.

  “Sorceress.” Fabian sank to one knee as she approached, dipping his balding head. Behind him, every one of his vampires did the same. Slowly, Fabian looked up, and in his eyes, she saw a stranger. Gone was the brittle sharpness of a dangerous cunning. In its place, she saw a warmth and compassion she could hardly credit. While he had, at first, looked like the same man she’d met before, he didn’t now. Not at all.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I am most ashamed for the way you were treated in my palace. The vampires you met there, myself included, were not ourselves.” In his eyes, she saw a pain she would never have thought he could feel. “The things I did…” He shook his head slowly, that pain becoming so acute that she found herself hurting for him. “I only thank the gods that I did not harm you unduly while you faced the danger that was my kovena at that time. I do not expect you to forgive the Fabian you met that day. I certainly will not. But I hope you will open your mind and heart to the friendship and loyalty this male would offer.”

  He held out his hand to her, his eyes hopeful that she would take it. Yet in those surprisingly compassionate depths, she saw only gentle understanding should she rebuff his offer. How could this be the male who’d callously drained a Slava of all her blood before tossing her empty body to the floor?