Nightshade's Bite (Blood Wars)

by Zoe Forward

  “Sir,” said one of Viktor’s vampires. “The Foundry ordered you bring the leader of Nightshade to them. Alive.”

  “Go downstairs and collect Andrew Dewherst. I’m sure he’s not dead. She’s not the one they want.” The concern in Viktor’s tone died away. “What the bloody…?”

  Kiera wheezed to catch her breath. Her chest burned like she’d been butted mid-boob by a water buffalo. But she wasn’t dead. Or dying.

  A hand to her chest caught the bullet she’d been shot with as her body pushed it out.

  She touched her nose. No blood on her fingers.

  What the hell?

  Dark hair draped her as she sat hunched. The Elise illusion had fallen. Not good.

  Gasps echoed around her.

  “So glad you could join us.” Louder to his people, Viktor said, “This is the true leader of the Nightshade League.” To her, he asked, “How did you become Elise?”

  The pain passed as her body healed the solitary wound. She took a cleansing breath, surprised by her escalated healing rate, which even for a vampire of her age was fast. It was as if she’d borrowed Michael’s ability. No time right now to examine that mind-blowing revelation nor the fact Michael’s blood didn’t kill her. Maybe the bullet hadn’t actually detonated inside her.

  A familiar sensation prickled her skin. It indicated magic nearby—powerful magic that hadn’t yet been deployed but threatened. She peeked through the veil of her hair, barely moving, in search of the source. It wasn’t Viktor or any of his guys.

  Leaning against the stone wall next to the exit with arms crossed and one leg propped up against the wall stood Isaac. Still in a dark shirt and tactical pants, he’d ditched the giant blades. The laissez-faire pose was destroyed by the vicious anger on his face. His palms curled into fists as he uncrossed his arms. For a being who kept to the shadows, his presence here caused warmth to spread inside her. He might play games and claim he maintained neutrality in the happenings of life, but he’d shown up for her.

  “You engineered the second virus to attack humans and limit our food supply. It made you rich,” she said to Viktor.

  No insecurity from Viktor. In fact, his lips twisted into an arrogant sneer.

  She straightened, the bullet her body extruded during healing now in her hand. A quick evaluation showed the bullet empty. It had detonated.

  Holy. Freaking. Shit.

  How was she not dead?

  Had to have been a dud.

  She held up the bullet and met Isaac’s gaze. Am I resistant to werewolf blood?

  His eyebrows rose. Maybe. I don’t know.

  That came back in his voice inside her head. She wasn’t telepathic. Maybe it was a trick of her mind.

  “That’s not possible.” Viktor’s gaped at the bullet as she dropped it in the snow. “It must’ve failed to release.” He pulled out his gun again.

  “Wait!” yelled one of his guys who grabbed his arm before he could shoot. “You have to take her to the Foundry alive.”

  “You’re lucky the Foundry doesn’t want you dead,” Viktor hissed.

  She stood, not a pain-free move, but damn if she’d show Viktor weakness. Her body was not entirely healed yet. This was her moment she could enlist Isaac’s help and run, avoid the Foundry, and disappear. But that would result in her being hunted, the end of the Nightshade League and every member in dire risk. She wanted to see if her mother who knew all on the Foundry well would come through.

  “Do as the Foundry ordered,” she addressed Viktor although she looked at Isaac. “Take me there.”

  “I can’t believe the bullet failed,” Viktor muttered, staring at the bloodied area of her chest. “Worked on Anita.”

  Poor Anita. She’d been locked in a hellacious mating lasting decades.

  “I’ll let you put me in irons if it makes you feel safer.” She held out her arms.

  Viktor called to one of the guys backing toward the exit who threw handcuffs at Viktor, refusing to take a step toward her. She resisted an eye roll. Little did he know a more deadly threat stood mere feet away. Although silver and designed for wolves, the restraints pinched when he ratcheted them tight. She could break them with little effort and was tempted.

  “Dart her,” Viktor ordered.

  A gun fired, but not the explosive sound of a bullet. More a pfft sound that ended in burning on her thigh.

  She stared at Isaac. I’m trusting you to get me there.

  Isaac said in her mind, It’s a fool’s errand.

  Her lips tilted upward.

  She swayed. Damn it, she wasn’t going to be as impressive as Michael in staying upright for almost ten minutes before the drug took her down.

  …

  “Out.” Viktor yanked her from the backseat of the car into the dimness of an underground parking lot that reeked of diesel fumes. She’d been aware for only a few minutes.

  One of Viktor’s Squad vamps leaned against the car, staring uneasily at the metal entry door a hundred yards away, the only apparent entrance to the secluded high-security bunker that served as the meeting place for the Foundry. Built over forty years ago, the structure had been designed by the Foundry as a bomb shelter. They wanted all to know when they convened that security was top notch.

  “Try anything and I’ll make sure you burn in hell,” Viktor warned as he smoothed his coordinated suit and tie.

  “I already have a first-class ticket to hell. I’m pretty sure burning comes without an upgrade.”

  He whirled and slammed her against a concrete support pillar, pushing the chain connector of her handcuffs against her throat. His face got so close to hers, she could see the many blood vessels highlighting the whites of his eyes, giving his entire eye a reddish, unhealthy glow. “This special session of the Foundry will only end one way. You dead. I doubt they’ll be disappointed if you’re executed a few minutes early. The blood bullet might’ve been faulty, but I guarantee you won’t survive if I rip off your head.”

  He pressed the chain until she couldn’t breathe. The smell of her blood filled the air between them.

  Viktor’s pupils dilated. His interest in Elise’s blood—well, her blood—had been real. The chain on her neck slackened.

  She rasped out, “Bite me, and I’ll chew out your throat.”

  The metal entry door creaked open.

  Viktor released her with a curse. She coughed and massaged her throat, coming away with blood. He propelled her forward with a bruising grip on her upper arm.

  On the inside of the three-foot-thick door, a vamp with scars deforming his eyebrows and a row of piercings in each ear tracked their progress without expression. The male’s irises were so dark, she couldn’t make out color. His body was enormous and itself a threat.

  She’d never visited or been before the Foundry, unlike Viktor. He threw back his shoulders and smirked at the male warrior as he shoved her in front of him so hard, she tripped. Viktor caught her by the arm before she hit the floor. Her shoulder bellowed in agony as it struggled to remain in its socket.

  Once they passed out of the narrow, concrete entry hall, the rooms opened up. They no longer resembled a military installation. They reminded her of a palace with huge airy, arching ceilings. The stonework on the walls and ceiling and room after room of grandiose furniture were over-the-top showy. The space was designed to survive an end-of-days dystopian scenario in opulence.

  He dragged her through a maze of hallways until they arrived in a spacious room. Several massive chandeliers provided light equivalent to midday. He pushed her to sit on a red, faux velvet sofa arranged along a wall with three others, waiting-room fashion. A fleet of Mack trucks could park inside the space.

  Her mind wobbled when she landed in a sit-sprawl. The drug lingered in her system, but she needed it gone in order to be sharp for her interrogation.

  Isaac didn�
��t seem to be around. Maybe there was some sort of anti-magic spell cast on this place. Maybe he couldn’t do his swirly tunnel travel thing into the heart of a mountain.

  She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she wished to have him with her for this.

  The dark-eyed warrior from the entrance dropped Andrew onto the sofa next to her.

  Andrew cast her a goofy grin and slurred out, “Never met a member of the Foundry. This oughta be a hoot and a half.”

  “You’re still high.”

  “Yep. Can’t feel my legs.”

  They waited. And waited.

  She shook herself awake when she caught herself dozing a couple times. Time passed, maybe hours. Viktor paced. He disappeared back toward the entrance for the third time. Maybe there was a bathroom in that direction. Imagining him with a case of the runs entertained her.

  “We could go. He’s gone,” Andrew whispered.

  “That’s you thinking out of your ass while high. We’re twenty miles from nowhere deep inside a mountain and walled in by several feet of concrete. If we managed to find a way out of this bunker, we’re both too drugged to put up a good fight or outrun anyone. It’d be our luck that they still have enslaved wolves to chase us or something.”

  “Maybe we could convert those wolves to our cause.” He chuckled.

  With an elbow to Andrew’s rib, she said, “How dare you disregard my orders?”

  “Ow.” He rubbed his side. “I couldn’t let you go. You know that.”

  “You always have to be the dramatic hero.” She stared up at the cavernous ceiling. “I should’ve anticipated.”

  “How’d you become Elise so fast? You’ve never—”

  The wooden floor to ceiling doors opened. An attendant in a black tuxedo announced, “You are to enter now.”

  Viktor reappeared. He yanked her upright and pushed her in front of him. Likewise, he tugged Andrew to a shaky stand.

  Like a movie drunk, Andrew sang out, “Showtime.”

  All remnant of the drug was long gone for her. Nerves twisted and turned her stomach. She tried to act calm but had to clench her hands into fists to control their shaking.

  What greeted them inside was not what she expected. Viktor shoved her. She tripped but caught herself before falling.

  She’d anticipated a group of vampires dressed to the nines in black-tie, each perched on a throne. Instead, six male vamps reclined in various poses on ruby red plush sofas arranged in a pentagon.

  Kiera recognized an old vampire, Silas, from his white-streaked hair, which rumors said he developed after a run-in with a witch long ago. She also knew Giles, who smiled like a television reality show host, but the trickster was as trustworthy as Loki.

  The other four were unfamiliar. One sported not one, but three scarves around his neck, another around his head, and a multitude of gold bracelets around each wrist. He reminded her of a rock star with his long hair and aquiline face.

  The rocker said in a thick Australian accent, “Finally, we can get this bloody show started.”

  “Gentlemen, I present you with the leader of the Nightshade League and her henchman.” Viktor shoved both her and Andrew forward. Andrew pitched onto his knees. She shuffled to avoid colliding into Andrew.

  Andrew slurred out, “I’m no henchman. I’ll have you know—”

  “Hush.” She kneed Andrew in the shoulder.

  “Glad to know you can, on occasion, follow orders,” said a female voice.

  Ehlena.

  It felt like someone took a hammer to her stomach, preparing her for a world of upcoming hurt.

  She hadn’t been in the same room with her mother in over fifty years, but she’d never forget the silky timbre of her voice, which was one of her powers. Waves of deference welled with nausea.

  “What took you so long?” Ehlena emerged from the corner dressed in a form-fitting black suit with an ankle-length skirt that had a slit up to mid-thigh and spiky heels. At least she had great fashion sense. From her lack of expression, it seemed Ehlena might be siding with the Foundry over her fate. Was this her way of making a stand with the information on the flash drive?

  “What’re you talking about? I’ve been waiting.” Viktor’s gaze bounced between the other members of the council. Two of the old vamps must be his cronies based on the way they nodded at him. “I don’t know if we’ve had the pleasure of meeting, my lady. You would be?”

  “The oldest one in the room,” she said. “Ehlena Karpati.”

  “But Ehlena is…” Viktor’s glanced between the members of the Foundry again. “Dead. How do we know you are who you claim?”

  Ehlena inclined her head toward Silas. “I’ve been verified.”

  “She’s Ehlena, only surviving daughter to Tamas Karpati.” Silas placed emphasis on Karpati, which was a hallowed bloodline.

  “Impossible. Father said she along with her mate died,” Viktor said.

  Silas said, “She was widowed but survived the vicious attack that took her mate. We have known of her existence. We extended an invitation to her to join us in our business endeavors, which she did, but we respected her desire to remain out of the politics of our species until”—Silas’s brows drooped as he focused on Kiera—“it became necessary.”

  She detected the tingle indicative of Isaac’s presence but saw nothing.

  Ehlena strolled into the sofa pentagon and claimed an empty spot. She gazed beyond Viktor. Was she seeing Isaac?

  Ehlena seemed to direct her next question at Viktor, but Kiera wasn’t entirely certain since she didn’t seem to be looking at Viktor. “What took you so long to get here?”

  “Kiera is a traitor to our species, and she invoked magic against us. The penalty is death.” Viktor’s scowled at Ehlena. “She’s only here to save her daughter.”

  “I did not invoke magic. That’s impossible.” She managed to keep her voice monotone, controlled.

  “Your mother’s presence here doesn’t change the facts,” he snarled.

  “But she’s an exquisite and lovely addition,” Andrew piped up.

  Viktor clocked him on the head. “Shut up.”

  “She shall be evaluated today and judged,” Silas said. “Andrew, Kiera, sit.” He pointed to the empty red sofa. “Ehlena is, of course, offended and distressed that you disregarded our order to present the leader of Nightshade uninjured, but there are unfortunate emotional reasons behind such a reaction.”

  Ehlena didn’t appear distressed, in Kiera’s opinion. What she picked up from her mother was a buttload of pissed off, probably from Silas’s insinuation being female made her victim to her emotions.

  Silas shook his head and clucked. “Viktor, Viktor.”

  “What? I finally caught the assholes undermining the war with their little werewolf rescue operation.”

  “We’ll deal with those two in a moment. You have a bigger problem.” Silas’s made a steeple of his fingers and brought them up to rest in front of his lips before dropping them away. “Someone gave Kiera digital information, your data, confirming your release of the second virus was intentional to infect humans. That information also confirmed you profited.”

  Viktor recoiled. He looked around the room as if calculating each vampire’s reaction. He muttered, “Anita. Damn that treacherous bitch. I took care of her. She’s dead.”

  Anita’s murder weighed on Kiera. If she hadn’t recruited Viktor’s wife last year to help with their efforts, Anita might still be alive.

  Silas picked lint from his shirtsleeve. “Kiera passed the information to Ehlena, who was fortuitously a silent partner in our business. We are assured no one else received this, at least not from Kiera. Right now, my people are wiping your hard drives and burning everything.”

  What? Ehlena was in that kind of business with these sleazy vamps? Profiteering off other’s suffering during war never s
eemed her thing. Her already low opinion of Ehlena bottomed out.

  Silas uncrossed his legs. “You’ve been sloppy, Viktor. Why you kept incriminating evidence in your possession is beyond stupid. It’s not the first time you have been negligent. Your war has been a disorganized disaster over the past year. Too many of our people have died. Let us not even get on the subject of the chaos of losing almost a third of the human population from the virus your scientist engineered.”

  “All of you wanted the Risoluzione virus to target wolves and humans. That was our agreement. It made all of you rich when we cornered the market with clean blood.”

  Giles grinned a wide expanse of television worthy pearly whites. “We agreed humans are destroying the planet. A little population check wasn’t a bad thing. But we assumed you could stop the infection at any time to protect our blood sources. We requested you do so six months ago.”

  “They found a cure. The wolves, that is. I’m close to getting it. I swear.” Perspiration dotted Viktor’s forehead. “I’ve never worked in opposition to our people or the Foundry. Kiera, though, has always worked against you. She’s the traitor and your biggest threat.”

  “You had one job. Make the virus and have the cure,” Silas hissed. “You fucked it up. We’ve given you six months to get the cure so we can have more blood donors. We’re losing clients daily who choose going into stasis rather than buying from us because we can’t keep enough blood in stock.”

  “I can get it,” Viktor pleaded.

  “Obviously, you can’t.” Ehlena rubbed her hand along the arm of the sofa, her gaze riveted on her hand’s movement. “How did any of you tolerate this sniveling wretch so long? He’s indiscreet and lazy—two things I don’t tolerate from my people. He’s not worthy of the designation of king.”

  Viktor raked his fingers through his hair. “All of you authorized me to release the virus. Each of you knew the risks. You were well aware the researcher who developed it got infected and died before he made a cure.”

  “You are hereby charged with the crime of traitor to our species,” Silas said.

  “Me?” Viktor pointed at Kiera. “She’s the fucking traitor, not me. I followed the Foundry’s dictates to a T. She killed our people and undermined the war.”