by Debra Dunbar
Dario continued to smooth her hair. “Is that what you really want? You saw Hugo and Federico. You saw the infected at Leonora’s house. Is that how you want to remember her? Is that how you want her death to be, long, drawn-out, and painful?”
Erica gulped, choking back a sob. “No. It’s just…I love her.”
She probably thought Leonora would outlive her. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She wasn’t supposed to have to mourn her lover.
“I know you do,” Dario told her, his voice soft and caring. “We all do. That’s why I don’t want her to suffer any more than she already has.”
Erica nodded, stepping toward the tunnel opening. “Leonora? I’m fine. I just got cut, but I’m fine now. Please come to me. I need you.” Her voice trembled. “I really need you.”
Jasmine wrapped an arm around Erica’s shoulders and led her to the back of the basement, pushing the woman’s head against her chest and hugging her tight, no doubt so she couldn’t see what was to come. We didn’t have to wait long. Leonora wasn’t as fast as she should have been, and her regrown arm looked thin and weak. She was wearing her signature leather, making me wonder how she’d been lucid enough to put it on. Her skin was streaked with blood and her hair a snarled mess of black around her pale face.
“Where is she?” Leonora gasped. “Where is my Erica.”
“Here. Safe.” Jasmine called out. Erica struggled a bit, and the vampire tightened her arms, making soothing noises to the woman.
“Good.” Leonora turned to Dario. Her eyes grew red, her hands shaking. “I’m so hungry. The vampires in the tunnel weren’t enough. I need blood. Just one or two. That’s all I need. Just a couple.”
Dario’s grip tightened on the kukri. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said. “Thank you for all the sacrifices you’ve made over the years for us. Thank you for defending us and keeping us safe. And thank you, Leonora, for your friendship.” Then with a quick motion the knife sliced and the Mistress’s head toppled to the ground.
“Thank you, Mistress,” the other vampires echoed, each one somber in a respectful pose. Jasmine gripped Erica tight as the woman began to sob.
“Go home,” Dario said to me. “We’ll take care of the rest of this, and prepare our Mistress for her final sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
It wasn’t a dismissal, or an exclusion. This was something their family needed to do, and although I might be part of their family, I wasn’t family enough to grieve with them. Plus I needed my sleep. Simon was still out there along with a handful of whatever vampires remained alive. No doubt tomorrow evening we’d need to face them, and we might not be this lucky.
Dario walked me up the stairs. I turned to say good-bye and found my back against the door, his mouth on mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung on with all my might. His lips trailed along my jaw and began to move down to my neck. I pulled away abruptly and saw the hurt expression on his face.
“I wasn’t going to bite you.”
“I know.” I reached my hands up to cup his face. “It’s just…I’ll tell you later. Right now you can’t kiss my neck.”
“Okay.” He smiled, turning his head to kiss my palm. “Sleep. And don’t do anything stupid.”
“The same goes for you.” I leaned forward to place a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. “Tomorrow night. Please call me as soon as you wake.”
“I will.” He opened the door and I reluctantly left.
I wasn’t five steps from my car when I got the call.
“I’ve got something of yours.” Simon’s voice was smooth, smug. I heard a voice in the background shouting something. Zac? How in the world had he found Zac? And why?
“I have your human boyfriend and if you want him to live, I’ll propose an exchange. You for him.” He rattled off an address, then hung up abruptly. I shrugged the scabbard off my shoulder and placed it on the passenger seat, then climbed into my car and headed west to Security Boulevard. It seemed I wouldn’t be getting that good night’s sleep after all.
And I was about to do something incredibly stupid.
Chapter 37
I saw Zac in the corner of the room, spotlighted with excessive lighting as compared to the rest of the building. Someone clearly wanted to make sure I saw him. His eyes widened as he saw me and he jerked his head to the side. There was a thick strip of duct tape across his mouth and his hands and feet were bound and looped together so he was hunched over.
I made my way to him, trying to ignore his frantic head bobbing. Yeah, there’s a bad guy over there. I got it. Even without the head bobbing or the staged setup I would have known. The static of vampire crawled across my skin. Simon. He’d kidnapped Zac, and I was the ransom. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to make his dramatic entrance.
Simon met my expectations. The vampire moved from the shadows, as if he were coming to form from their smoky depths. I gripped my sword in a defensive, cross body posture. I wish I could have been casually flippant in my stance, but vampires moved so quick that I knew I couldn’t react in time. Better to look scared and defensive than be dead.
“My pet. Why did you run away from me? I thought we’d had such an enjoyable time the night before. You did enjoy it, didn’t you? You do want to do it again, don’t you?” His voice was smooth and hypnotic. “I can’t tell you’ll I’ll be gentle this time, because that’s no fun. We’ll fight. I’ll win and drink from you again, and maybe this time we’ll play a bit afterward. You’ll like it, that I promise. And this time I won’t let you go. I’ll make sure you’re naked and caged, and that you stay there until I awaken. Then we’ll play again and again, every night until I tire of you and drain you dry.”
He came into the light and I smirked to see what I’d done to him. His neck was a mess of punctures and tears, the skin black around the oozing holes that my blessed keychain had made. There were two more in his cheek, and I was sure there was a matching one under his jaw.
“Those won’t heal,” I told him, refusing to rise to the bait and counter his what-I’m-going-to-do-to-you villain monologue. “They’ll never heal. My marks will fade in eight weeks, but you’ll carry those marks for the rest of your life, which really won’t be very long.”
He reached up a finger and jabbed it in one of the holes, then flicked the blood on the floor and shrugged. “Minor wounds that only serve to remind me of how sweet last night was. You’re mine Aria. Fight all you want, but in the end, you’ll be mine.”
I curled my lip. “Think so? Then bring it.”
His foot hooked around a metal pole that was laying on the ground and popped it upward and into his hand as he came forward. I’d seen how fast Simon could move, but this was slow and deliberate. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it to unnerve me, or if he was wary of my sword. I was hoping the latter.
He swung a few times and I dodged, looking for an opening that just wasn’t there. Simon was fast with the pole and with a quick spin I saw the end coming right for my hip—the hip that was still bruised from the fight with Wolfram. I desperately parried, trying to deflect the blow. The metal rod connected with the hilt of my sword, bouncing and smacking my hand before I had time to redirect it. My hand went numb and Trusty clattered to the floor. Simon advanced swinging so fast that I had no choice but to back away from my weapon. With a kick he sent it into the corner.
That left me with my crucifix. Dancing away from the pole slashing at my head I grabbed it from my pocket. Then using my skills gained in playground jump rope, I waited for a space in the swing of the pole and launched myself forward.
Simon recoiled in surprise, bringing one hand up to push me away and dropping the pole. My keychain hit his palm, and the vampire’s flesh sizzled and smoked.
He laughed, closing his hand around the weapon and my fingers, his other arm snaking around my waist to hold me in place. Then he twisted until my wrist was at the breaking point, forcing me to let go of the keychain.
I used the o
nly free body part I had and head-butted him in the nose. In response he threw me to the ground, launching himself on top of me before I could scramble to my feet or even roll away. I struggled, but eventually he managed to straddle my hips with his thighs, his weight on my chest trapping my arms. I was pinned to the floor, practically immobile while he still had both hands free.
His eyes had gone dark with bloodlust, fangs huge compared to his other teeth. Slowly he traced my lips with a finger, then eased my head to the side. I tensed my muscles, I tried to fight, but with just a bit of pressure my cheek touched the floor.
His breath was cool against my neck. It was the same side as he’d savaged last night.
“Admiring your handiwork?” My words were muffled, my face pressed against the floor.
“Yes.” There was sex in that one word, and unbidden my body reacted. He chuckled and reached a hand between my legs. “We’ll get to that in due course, my pet. First I feed. Then I’ll take care of my other desires.”
His fingers pressed and probed me through my pants, his lips and tongue caressing along the edge of my ear. I was on fire with need, my breath coming in short pants.
“Patience dear. Patience.” He murmured. Then I felt the press of fangs against bruised flesh, felt the sharp stab of them puncture my skin.
Simon screamed. I’d once heard a rabbit being taken from a field by a hawk. It was the same ear-shattering, blood-curdling scream of someone in intense pain—someone who knows they’re going to die. He jumped off me, no doubt thinking that distance would alleviate his suffering. Wrong. I sat up and watched him as he flailed about the floor, black blood and smoke coming from his mouth and nose. He clawed at his face, digging grooves in the skin. Now the smoke and blood was also coming from his eyes and ears. Black lines of veins opened up along the skin of his arms. The screams abruptly stopped, then Simon sort of melted, his body becoming a pile of wet, smoldering clothing.
I felt nothing. Well, I did feel some satisfaction for a job well done, but that was it. No euphoria. No need to dance on his grave, or in his muck. Dead. Huh. Seems Essie was right after all. I reached up a hand to touch the torn skin of my neck, feeling the crusty lines of clear nail polish defining the symbol that I’d painted on both sides of my neck.
“Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘bad blood,’ doesn’t it?” I told the wet, gooey pile of vampire remains. Then I got up, picked up my sword, and went over to Zac who had rolled sideways and tried to scoot his way out of the room. Bastard swords aren’t optimal at cutting rope in tight spaces, but I made do as best as I could given that the only other items I had on me were a butter knife and a keychain. Zac flexed his fingers and straightened his legs, then he carefully peeled the duct tape from his mouth. Judging from how slow it came off, I’d bet it hurt.
“You were telling the truth. You’re some kind of Van Helsing, hunting down vampires in the city.”
I shrugged, helping him to his feet. “I’m a Templar. I’m Baltimore’s Templar. And yes, there are vampires in the city. They’re not all as bad as that guy, but I’d advise you to stay clear and pretend like this never happened.”
He nodded and I wondered if this would change the dynamic at the Wednesday night Anderon games. Maybe he’d give me more hit points. I sure could use them before we had to go through the Fairy Forest next week.
“So what do I do now?” Zac asked. Then he glanced over at the pile of goo and shuddered. “What do you do now?”
“I make a phone call so someone who can clean this up before the employees arrive in the morning. Then I run home and rest up so I can work my shift at the coffee shop, then do a magical ritual at midnight tomorrow to get rid of my demon mark. You go home and get some sleep, then go to work tomorrow like normal.”
He nodded, took a few steps then halted. “Um, that guy grabbed me from my parking lot. I don’t even know where I am. Do you think you can give me a lift?”
Chapter 38
I slept in until past noon before dragging myself in to work. As the employee with the least seniority, I’d gotten stuck with the late shift on Halloween. Closing was at ten. Even with clean up and reconciliation, I’d be home in plenty of time for my ritual. Even so, I asked Reynard and Raven to go ahead and prep for me, just in case.
I was a bit of a rock-star in the Balaj’s eyes for having killed Simon, and had every intention of riding that fame as long as I could. Maybe now they’d come to see me as more than just dinner with a sword. Maybe someday they’d come to realize that humans weren’t the weaklings they’d always thought them to be.
With Simon dead, the Balaj had easily routed the rest of the invading vampires. Dario had jumped into the role of Master—a role he’d never wanted. Nearly three quarters of their Balaj was dead. It meant Dario was Master over a very small group, but I knew he’d be loyal and tireless in protection of his family and their territory as their Master.
Get rid of the demon mark. Move next week. Those were the only two things remaining on my action-item list. Well, that and getting this apple-spice latte just right.
“Girl. That’s more than a curling iron mishap there. Looks more like a pit bull tried to rip your throat out.”
I adjusted the scarf I’d unfashionably tied around my neck. It kept slipping, which meant I’d been fielding comments and questions all day.
“Worse than a pit bull,” I told Anna. “A vampire.”
Petie snorted. “Not the sexy, sparkly kind either, by the looks of that thing.”
“Or the George Hamilton kind,” Brandi added. “I thought they were supposed to leave tiny little marks, not chew your head half off.”
My co-workers were getting a lot of mileage out of the vampire jokes and comments. I wondered what they really thought happened to my neck, and actually appreciated that they weren’t hounding me for answers or trying to schedule an intervention. I’d been hurt a lot since I started work here. They had to be thinking I was into an adrenaline junkie sport or pushing the limits of safe BDSM or something.
“So, next Tuesday? That’s the big day?” Anna asked.
“Yep. Tuesday.” I’d told them about my move, and those who weren’t working had offered to help. Petie even was borrowing his cousin’s truck to haul my furniture.
The day flew by, my mood in the stratosphere in spite of my chewed-up neck. Closing time went without a hitch, and I drove home euphoric and ready to prep for the ritual. Between Reynard, Raven, and me, we shouldn’t have any problems getting rid of this demon mark. After all that had happened, this was quite honestly the easiest task I needed to face in the last week.
I arrived at my apartment with sixty minutes to spare and walked in on chaos. Reynard stood in the middle of the room, carpet rolled up and magical supplies on every table and counter. In front of him, red-faced and waving both arms in the air was my landlord.
“Who is this?” he shouted at me, pointing at Reynard. “I get complaints that you’re having sex in the hallways with some man, that men are in and out of here like you’re a twenty-four/seven quick mart, that you were carrying a bag that was leaking blood to your apartment the other day. Then I walk in and see this. Carpet’s ruined. Stuff stapled to the walls. And you’re violating the no open flame rule.”
“I don’t have any pets,” I countered. Unless he was considering Raven to be a pet, that was pretty much the only clause in my lease that I hadn’t broken.
“Out. I want you out now!”
No! Not when I had a ritual to do in less than an hour. “I’ve got another week on my notice. My new place isn’t ready yet. Just a few more days, please.”
Just tonight. If I could make it through tonight, I’d just crash on Brandi’s couch until Tuesday and my move-in.
“No. I’m changing the locks. Get out now, and you have until Tuesday to get your stuff out of here.”
“How am I supposed to get my stuff if the locks are changed?” I argued, noticing that Reynard was hastily shoving magical supplies into bags.
/>
“You’ll just need to call me and I’ll let you in. I’m supervising your move-out. There’s no way I’m letting you stay here with the carpet all torn up and weird Satan-stuff painted on the floor. You’re liable to burn down the entire building before next week.”
I thought about calling Tremelay. This had to be illegal. Having a cop argue my case might make my landlord reconsider. Or it might just waste time, and time wasn’t something I had right now. Forty minutes.
“Just give me five to get a few things,” I told the landlord, joining Reynard in hastily stuffing things in bags.
I made sure I had everything including my sword and Raven, then followed Reynard out while the landlord started changing the locks. I had no clothing, not even a toothbrush, but I did have the important things. Now the question was where were we going to be able to do this ritual? We couldn’t be interrupted once we began, and I wasn’t sure we could manage to get the circle laid out in the time left and not carelessly screw something up. At least my apartment had the painted-on circle that would have saved us twenty to thirty minutes in drawing.
A circle. What I was about to do might jeopardize my new lease, but I’d have to take that chance.
“How do you feel about a little breaking and entering?” I asked Reynard.
A light mist had started to come down, glistening in the glow of the streetlights like a thousand tiny prisms. Reynard put out his hand and looked skyward. “Normally I’d be ambivalent, but we can’t do the ritual in the parking lot, not with this rain. We need to find somewhere indoors, and fast.”
Fast was the key word. Reynard and I ran for my car. It was tough making it the two miles from Fells Point to the new house. Traffic was insane, and there were kids in costumes everywhere. What normally was a ten-minute drive took nearly twenty.
Fifteen minutes. I threw the car into park, grabbed my bags and ran. We had no time to spell the door locks open. I hated to break a window, but we needed in and fast so I pulled Trusty from the sheath and wound back.