He knows something’s wrong with her.
“And what should we do tomorrow, sweetie?” Spencer asked more loudly, taking a sip of his beer.
“Go home, I hope,” Annie smirked. “He knows there’s something weird with her,” Annie whispered into her wine glass as she pretended to take a sip.
Amelie tapped the bar twice, and the attentive bartender quickly refilled two shots. The vampire, no longer affected by the alcohol, downed both quickly, her hand still holding the victim’s. He couldn’t release it no matter how he tried. He shuddered at her touch; as she whispered another sweet nothing in his ear, he began to shake.
His fear must have turned her on. She sat on his lap and fed his drink to him.
“She gets them drunk,” Annie surmised.
“She’s still young,” Spencer quipped.
“Let’s keep her that way.” Annie took another small sip.
The man, whether he was drunk or just ignoring his gut feeling about the beautiful, flirty, sexed up woman, asked Amelie to dance. The music, a slow instrumental, was barely audible and sounded like it belonged in an elevator, not a bar. Nonetheless, the man stumbled to an open patch of floor between two tables and took the princess in his arms.
Amelie kept a healthy distance away from him, trying to keep him from the chill of her skin, the tautness of her muscles that no longer felt human. She didn’t look him in the eye, rather at his forehead or his chin. There was something in those black eyes—soulless, cold, inhuman.
She knows how to hide in plain sight.
Amelie swayed her hips awkwardly to the music; she shimmied and rolled her ass, ignoring the incredulous stares of those around her.
They don’t know what to make of her.
Annie chuckled as she played with the top of her wine glass, the contents barely going down.
She watched the vampire dance, engrossing the few patrons still in the bar. Annie wasn’t easily impressed, but she was surprised by Amelie’s knowledge of the kill as she had only died eight months ago, and they weren’t really sure when she was freed from the coffin. It hadn’t been much time for Amelie to learn the and refine her technique.
She’s playing with them.
“Uh-oh. The companion just walked in,” Spencer whispered and swigged his beer. Annie’s gaze followed the short, rotund man take a seat on the other side of the door. He glared at the princess as if jealous, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her as she played with her next meal.
Amelie turned at the sound of the door opening and closing, caught his eye, blew a kiss, and returned to the man beside her. The vampire had been feeding him several shots of an amber liquid; he no longer appeared frightened or turned off by the unnerving creature.
Amelie reveled in the act, gyrating closer to the man and grazing her fingers against his thigh, higher and higher. Amelie’s companion glared at the production; his faced burned red.
“She’s learned quickly,” Spencer noted. This seduction dance was so carefully crafted; by the time the victims knew they were in danger, it was too late for them to save themselves.
Having successfully whipped up her prey, Amelie whispered in his ear. It could have been with promises of love or sex or even money; whatever it was, he was completely rendered helpless. While he stumbled after her, unknowingly being led to his death, Amelie tugged after him, irritated by the helpless creature she had to drag with her.
“She made that look easy,” Spencer groused.
“Get them soused, they’re yours.”
Annie diverted her eyes from Amelie as the vampire still gripped her victim tightly. Her eyes found Spencer’s, and even in his disheveled appearance, he was handsome bordering on sexy hot. The princess smiled coyly, licked her lips, and pulled the victim out the door.
“You’re next,” Annie quipped and threw a large tip on the table.
“Lucky me.” He smiled and held her hand as they strode out the door.
Hushed whispers followed Annie and Spencer from the bar.
They felt the strangeness in Amelie too.
Behind them, the door slammed shut; it reverberated against the hard stone of the door jamb, plummeting them into silence.
“It’s getting really close to dawn. She’s playing a dangerous game,” Annie remarked.
“Let’s get this over with,” Spencer said as he peered eastward to the lightening sky. The air was the coldest it had been since they arrived; their lightweight jackets did little to keep out the wind that whipped around them. Annie shuddered and wiped her watery eyes as tears from the cold ran down her cheeks.
Both scrutinized the shadows and dark corners in their surroundings.
Where is she?
“Where…” Spencer began, but Annie held her finger against her lips.
“Up there?” Annie pointed. A lumpy shadow moved slowly up the street, avoiding the dim street lamps that lined the narrow roadway through town.
“Come on.” Spencer held tightly to Annie’s arm as if to protect her. She didn’t object and let him guide her down the street.
“She’s not dragging him back to the mansion, is she?” Annie asked, but as the last word came out of her mouth, the form turned down yet another street.
“You good to go?” Without waiting for Annie’s reply, Spencer dropped his grip on her arm and picked up his pace. Her shorter legs had to work twice as hard to keep up with his longer stride.
The new street was quieter, darker with fewer street lamps to guide them. Annie slowed her pace when she could no longer see the shadow of Amelie and her victim. She closed her eyes and focused her breathing while concentrating on the sound of shoes scraping against the pavement.
To her left, she heard more scuffling as the victim thrashed and fought to get away. Annie pointed toward the small plot of land between two houses, where a single car garage at the center of the plot leaned to the right.
“There,” Annie whispered.
They slunk around the garage; the shuffling grew louder. There they heard a groan of fear as the man pleaded for his life. When that failed, he began to cry heavy tears. Annie and Spencer ran across the back wall of the garage.
“No! No…” his voice trailed off as though he was too tired to fight, as if he knew and had accepted he was about to die. Annie and Spencer turned the corner.
“Let him go!” Annie ordered. She held out the stake and shone her flashlight in Amelie’s amber eyes, nearly blinding the vampire. Amelie hissed and bared her fangs.
“Let go, Amelie!” Annie repeated. Amelie tossed the victim against the garage wall and ran. Spencer followed.
The victim, clearly shaken, slumped against the wall.
“Get out of here now!” Annie yanked the dazed man to his feet and pushed him toward the street. “Go!” she reiterated.
Still in shock, the man stumbled into the darkness.
Annie lost sight of her partner and resorted to listening for the echoes of several footsteps of different weights and gaits. The wind whistled through bare branches, battered stucco, and sent shutters swinging against a stone façade. Annie stood at the center of the street, the wind whirling around her, and in the midst she still heard the soft growl.
As Amelie stumbled forward, Annie held the flashlight steady on the princess, illuminating her pale skin, her dusty blue eyes, her brown hair. Even in death, she was radiant. She was still the girl that Annie had so carefully studied, observed and searched for online.
Annie tossed the stake and caught it, feeling cocky. She expected Amelie to jump when it smacked her palm, and smiled when the vampire did. But then, so did Amelie as she approached.
“So it is you. Princess Amelie,” Annie said.
The vampire’s black, angry eyes squinted and she pursed her purple lips. “Don’t call me that!” Her voice echoed through the otherwise silent neighborhood, drawing attention to them.
Footsteps clacked against the street.
That better be Spencer!
Annie glared
at the stumbling vampire and took a step closer to Amelie.
Shadows flashed from the corner of Annie’s eyes. Spencer walked a tight perimeter around them, finally stopping behind Amelie. The vampire swayed as she took one more step closer to Annie.
Shadows realigned and moved around Annie.
What the hell?
Tired and sore, Annie knew this was it. They had the vampire. “Okay. I won’t call you that anymore. What would you like me to call you?” Annie asked.
“Your worst nightmare,” Amelie growled. Unsteady, she stumbled again.
She needs to feed!
The sun would soon break the horizon; the gray sky was warming with orange. The vampire should be feeling the heat, should at least notice the street was lightening. Instead, she was fully focused on Annie. Amelie licked her lips in anticipation.
Spencer pressed the stake into Amelie’s skin; the vampire startled and growled.
“I highly doubt you’re anyone’s nightmare, Amelie.” Spencer said.
Amelie sniffed the air and glanced to the sky.
“Stake her now,” Annie urged. Spencer pushed the stake. Pop, pop, pop, pop…
“May I ask you your name?” Amelie inquired. The shadows adjusted; the sun rose.
“Stake her now, Spencer!” Annie shouted.
BOOM!
Flying. Screams. Smoke. Heat.
Who’s screaming?
Annie lifted her head.
Dizzy. So dizzy.
She lay back on the hard, cold ground that rumbled and shook beneath her.
Hot, rancid smoke filled her nostrils. Still-burning embers rained down to the street, and the smell of burning hair filled her nostrils.
“Annie!” A distant voice called out for her. Sirens whirled.
“Wha…” Hands curled under Annie’s arms. Pain wracked her shoulder as she was half carried, half dragged along the pavement. Wetness from the dewy grass slowly spread up her ankles.
“What?” she tried to ask.
“Shush. Not yet!”
What happened?
Strong, rancid smoke billowed across the street, hovering. Her lungs burned.
Confused, panicked voices, clamored about what to do. Colored lights whirled and cut the darkness and lit up the houses. Metal clanked and squeaked.
Annie shook, from the cold and wet and pain. Her feet bounced against uneven pavement. A wooden door flew open.
Suddenly there was no more light, complete silence, a soft cushion.
“What happened?” she murmured.
“Shhh.” Spencer’s cold hand touched her shoulder. Annie groaned, her head rolled sideways.
Sirens blared.
Stop!
Lights spun like a kaleidoscope against the ceiling.
A shadowy form watched out the window.
Footsteps pounded the pavement, water flowed. A bright white light flashed across the walls.
Shaking hands lifted Annie’s wrists, fingers pressed against her neck. Warmth spread from her head to her shoulder to her feet. She closed her eyes.
“Come on, Annie.” His voice was cloudy, fuzzy, distant.
Red and blue lights swirled.
Where am I?
Spencer’s hands framed the side of her head. Warmth spread behind her eyes, down her neck.
“Annie, can you hear me?”
“Warm,” she murmured.
He cradled her head in his hands, gently lifting it to his lap to rest there.
“Annie, wake up!” he shouted.
The voices became clearer, louder. They were frantic, almost frenzied. Footsteps drew closer. Someone gently placed her head against a musty seat cushion.
Hot smoke seeped under the door, which was hanging askew on its hinges.
Annie coughed. “Fire,” she murmured.
“It’s a mess,” he responded.
She opened her eyes. Spencer’s silhouette was framed by the window; the morning sun broke the horizon and cast a warm glow against his skin.
He ducked below the window and held his finger to his lips while footsteps clinked away until they couldn’t be heard.
“Annie,” he said. His face, inches from hers, was lined with worry at the corners of his mouth and across his forehead.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
“Can you sit?”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “What happened?” Her words were groggy, gravelly. His hands guided her up, but she fell against her bent legs and rested against her knees.
“I think her boy toy threw a bomb,” Spencer said. Annie stood, dizzy and concussed. The room spun quickly.
“I need help,” she said falling against her partner.
“I figured. Lean against here.” She held on to a work bench, which groaned under her weight. Spencer glanced out the window, cracked open the door and wrapped his arms around Annie. “Let’s get you ack to the hotel,” he said and lifted her to teleport to the hotel.
Chapter 9
A narrow alley cut from the hotel to the small businesses nearby. This morning it protected Annie as Spencer peered around the corner of the building, observing the chaos on the street.
Voices echoed against stone buildings, concerned or angry about the explosion that had occurred just a few blocks from the hotel.
Smoke still hung over the village, and the stench clung to their clothes and hair. Ash floated and rolled across the street, and still-glowing embers cracked and popped, burning the new leaves just growing on the trees.
Annie shaded her eyes from the soft orange glow that, in her concussed state, seemed bright and harsh. She closed her eyes and lay against the rough stone wall. The noise of honking horns and blaring sirens overwhelmed her, so she covered her ears as well.
Spencer focused on the scene in the street. He glanced up at their window at the front of the hotel. Annie watched him and shivered on the ground as a cold breeze whipped down the alleyway.
“Spencer,” she murmured with a mouth that felt like cotton. She licked her lips, but both her tongue and lips were dry. She rolled her head to the side.
The night fell into focus.
It was a bomb.
“Our window is still open. It looks like the hotel’s been evacuated. We’ll have to be careful.”
“Okay,” Annie mumbled.
“You okay? We’re almost there,” Spencer said.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Fine…”
He picked her up and held her tight as he teleported to their room.
*
Sturtagaard, still attached to the chair, pulled against the ropes that bound him. As he struggled with the restraints, the chair bounced and squeaked against the hardwood floor.
“The jinx wore off,” Annie whispered. She closed her eyes as Spencer stopped healing her concussion.
“Think he’s mad?” Spencer asked. He walked around to the back of the chair and smacked the vampire in the head so that his head bounced forward and back again, like a toy bobble head. As the vampire continued to wriggle in the restraints, Spencer pulled the muffle bag from his head.
“Where the hell have you been?” Sturtagaard asked. “You lied about those bracelets. What the hell were you thinking?” The vampire sneered until he saw Annie, her eyes closed, a grimace across her lips. “What’s wrong with her?”
“A little concussion,” Spencer said and went back to his partner.
He placed his hands against her temples.
“I just need sleep,” she whispered.
“A little more healing. No sleep yet,” he advised. Redirecting his attention to Sturtagaard, he said, “Yeah. We lied about the bracelets. Miss us?”
When he finished with Annie, her eyes brightened, her face gained some color. “Better?” he asked.
“Not as fuzzy.” She plumped the pillows and glared at the vampire.
Spencer bent low, meeting the vampire’s eyes. “So hear anything good down there?” He pointed to the open window.
“I’m not the messeng
er,” Sturtagaard growled.
“Fine. Stay in Europe, asshole.” Spencer sat on the bed and watched the vampire squirm in the chair.
“Catch the vampire yet?” Sturtagaard jeered.
“No, we didn’t. So what did you hear?” Spencer asked again.
“They’re looking for you. Those strange Americans.”
“Anything else?” Spencer bared his teeth.
Annie reached another pillow and placed it behind her back. She groaned in the attempt.
“Whatever you did her, her boy isn’t gonna be happy,” Sturtagaard’s voice carried a sing-song quality, trying to goad Spencer into a fight.
“She’s fine. Learn anything else? If not, you’re going back under the bag.” Spencer held the bag for emphasis.
“They think the two Americans are possible suspects in that bombing. What the hell did you two do?” Sturtagaard smirked.
“A bomb exploded on Pl. Saint Louis. Annie was flung from the explosion.” Spencer peered through the heavy drapes. The parking lot was filled with onlookers, some pointing to their window. He pulled away, breathing deeply. “They’re watching us,” he said.
“Awesome.” Annie’s eyes fluttered open and closed again. Her breath rattled from the smoke.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” Spencer ordered.
When she popped her eyes open, she glowered. Spencer chuckled and returned to observing the lingering crowd. “They’re finally thinning out.”
“So where’s Amelie?” Sturtagaard asked. He eyed the muffle bag Spencer left on the bed.
“You didn’t tell us Amelie has a boy toy.” Spencer let the drapes fall shut, no longer interested in the mob. He crossed the room and lit a flashlight, staring into Annie’s eyes. “Nauseated, headachy, dizzy?”
Annie offered a wan, tired smile. “Just the remnants of all three. I’m fine.”
“Just another treatment should do it.” He held both his palms against her temples with another spell to her brain. Low light emanated from his palms, covering her head in a warm glow. Annie took a deep breath and waited for the spell to ease the last of the effects of the injury.
“Any better?” Spencer asked after several minutes of sending the healing spell.
Wizard War Page 9