I didn’t move.
“It stinks in there. Come on out and I’ll give your foul-mouthed mantra a try,” he called out, sounding as if he was standing a few feet back and to the side from the door. “I killed the cameras, by the way. Didn’t want anyone seeing me here.”
Fearing a trap, I slipped off one of my Darling and Dear boots, which had been blocked from magic while in the prison cell. I did this quickly and silently, hating myself. Then I kissed one of them lovingly, almost wanting to cry, as if tossing out my own flesh and blood. With supreme will, I threw it through the open door, ready to jump out after he used up his first attack.
The boot hit the ground unharmed. I almost gasped in relief. Das boot lives!
Then a calloused hand flashed into view, snatched the boot, and disappeared.
Chapter 49
My maternal instincts kicked in and I stormed out of the cell, certain he wasn’t going to kill me after all. I found Fabrizio sitting on the floor, back against the wall, cuddling and stroking my boot possessively. He stared at me and hissed, “My preccciioooousssss,” imitating that creepy character from the Lord of the Rings.
“Give me back my shoe, you creep!” I snarled at his grin.
He held it out, squinting at it with a thoughtful assessment before grunting and tossing it at my feet. “Cute boots. Might want to shack up with someone soon, though. Your infatuation is bordering on dependency.”
“They were a gift.”
“I don’t even want to ask how you got a pair of those,” he waved a hand, literally not wanting to talk about them.
I cocked my head. “You know about—”
“Those who shall not be named, yes,” he said in a louder voice, poking fingers in his ears.
I frowned at him. “Fine. Not important anyway. What the hell are you doing here? Did someone forget to plug Windsor into the wall to charge?”
He grinned, leaning forward, careful to keep his hands in plain sight. “Speaking of Windsor, your hipster mantra really got under his skin. I even heard him muttering it under his breath as if he was trying to understand it.” I blinked at him, waiting. He sighed. “Right. How about answering a few questions? If I like the answers, you’re free to go.” He glanced down at his watch. “We have twenty minutes until Windsor is finished charging. Your call.”
I didn’t let anything show on my face, but I opened myself to verify that I was indeed able to touch my magic. I didn’t actually touch it, just verified nothing was in my way.
It was there, waiting for me. The Whispers reached out to me with a loving embrace, their seductive chant almost sweeping me under. I muted them – not quite understanding how – careful not to let the mental juggling show on my face. If Fabrizio was here to kill me, he sure had an odd way of going about it. That didn’t mean I dismissed the possibility. I would have taken a similar approach if I were in his shoes. If he wanted to joke around and put me at ease as part of his master plan, I would play along, secretly vigilant to even a sliver of danger.
Fabrizio sighed. “My ass is falling asleep here.”
“You cuss a lot for a Shepherd.”
He held up a finger. “Only when off duty, or scheduled for execution in the morning. And I don’t cuss nearly so much as my girlfriend.” A ghostly look passed over his face, as if realizing he may not ever see her again. He concealed it quickly, returning to our conversation. “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” he quoted to justify his potty-mouth.
“You turning a new leaf, or have you always been a closet-cusser?”
He shrugged. “I repent weekly, but I find cursing keeps my blood pressure down.”
“Salads do that, too,” I offered, smirking.
“Wait till you get out of your teens – when life punches you in the teeth. Then we’ll talk about salads, Girlie. And…” he added, slapping his stomach, “I’m Italian!”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m well out of my teens, thank you very much, Gramps. I graduated High School three whole years back. It was like, forever ago.”
He blinked at me, appalled. I burst out laughing. It felt surprisingly good, almost making me forget the situation. Just like that, my laughter died, and I sat down warily. He wore a metal bracelet I didn’t remember from before.
He saw my attention and grunted, rattling it. “Blocks my magic. Didn’t want us running off to do something stupid. We all go down with the ship, apparently.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
He nodded. “You could kill me where you sit. As easy as stealing candy from a baby.”
I studied him, not entirely buying it. “Questions. Shoot,” I said instead.
“Okay. Why did you attack the witness? Alberto?”
“I felt Roland’s necklace on him.” I readied myself to kill Fabrizio if he so much as twitched. “The one that zapped you,” I added.
Fabrizio frowned. “We put them both through a metal detector. He had a plain gold chain, but I checked it myself. No amulet, and much smaller than Roland’s strange vampire trophy.” Those words seemed to hit him for the first time. “It’s not a trophy, is it?” he growled, shaking his head.
“No, it’s not a trophy. But what the hell did I sense, then? I felt it. A slight vibration to the air. Almost a hum. It’s unique, trust me.” I wasn’t going to share what it allowed him to do.
Fabrizio closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and I readied myself to kill him. His eyes shot open and he stared at me as if I had struck him in the forehead with a hammer.
“Crispin,” he whispered. “Crispin was standing beside Alberto…” He looked ready to vomit. As if someone had just reached inside and torn out his guts.
I blinked at him, recalling the details. Was he right? Crispin had been wearing the amulet? He had stayed close to the witnesses the entire time. But he had defended me from the Conclave, arguing on my right to attack the witness. Then he had glared at the Antipope. “That… doesn’t make any sense.”
Fabrizio still looked sick, but animated at the same time, connecting dots. He lifted his wrist. It was shaking. “Guess who made us put these on?” He sounded disgusted that he hadn’t seen it sooner. Unbelievable. Crispin had taken out the Shepherds in one fell swoop. “We searched the city last night… We separated to divide and conquer. He could have done it. Caught Roland. Especially if he learned… that he had become a vampire.”
I felt tears building up. Was this a nightmare? Had Crispin taken Roland out because he was a vampire? But the Antipope had Roland. Why would Crispin give Roland to the Antipope? Because I’m paranoid, I tried to remember where Fabrizio had been during my attack on the witness. This could all be an elaborate misdirect. But… he hadn’t been near them. Then he had tackled me. I would have felt it that close, practically touching me.
Then I remembered. The amulet had zapped Fabrizio. He couldn’t have touched it. I didn’t know why it hadn’t zapped Crispin, but the facts clicked into place. The why didn’t matter.
Saving my people was my only goal.
A set of keys hit the ground and skidded to my feet, but I didn’t look down, keeping my eyes on him, very, very alert for an attack. But… he looked broken. Betrayed. A dead man walking.
Fabrizio slowly nodded at me. “Be sure to knock me out before you go, just to remove any doubt from your mind about me. I still have to live here if you save us, Girlie,” he winked sadly. “Take the girls with you. Go save our boy, or we’ll all be crucified tomorrow.”
He saw the doubt in my eyes, and grumbled, jangling his bracelet pointedly. Seeing that it didn’t sway me, he slowly climbed to his feet, holding his hands out before him in a submissive gesture. I stepped back, ready for anything. Then he calmly walked into my cell, for sure cutting off his access to magic. “Happy? I still think you should hit me, Girlie.”
He still stood close to the door, but only as if remaining close enough for me to hit him. I was confident I could kill him before he could cross the barrier.
I
blinked at him. “Why trust me? You think the girls are murderers.”
He shrugged. “Maybe that’s what we need. Three crazy bitches who would do anything for their friend. You’re the perfect level of crazy. You’ve consistently broken every rule we’ve given you, all to find out the truth. No matter the cost. We’ll need that asset to get him back. This is our last chance to get out of this. If you fail, or sit here doing nothing, we’ll all die tomorrow. You have nothing to lose…” he grinned, “and everything to prove. Your sense of right is more important than your sense of faith. Some of us may flinch at doing what needs to be done. Too used to the rulebook.” He met my eyes approvingly. “But I don’t think you will. He’s also your mentor. And…” he wiggled his bracelet, reminding me he couldn’t use his magic. “Only Crispin has the key to take these off.”
I struggled for a response, his comment about my mentor piercing my heart like a stiletto. “But… he’s a vampire now…”
Fabrizio guffawed. “In our line of work? Could have happened to any of us over the years. Plus, if I’m going to trust a vampire, I’d prefer my first one to have spent decades as a man of God… Now, it’s a long drive—”
I held up my hand. “How does your magic-tracking software work?” He frowned, and then pulled up his phone, showing me an app connected to a geo-locating service. “Use enough magic, the system spots it. That’s about all I know. Windsor designed it. Not good with the people thing, but great with technology. I’m secretly convinced that he’s a cyborg, but he’s an automaton for God, so I roll with it.”
“The same could be said about many at the Conclave,” I muttered, earning a chuckle. But I still wasn’t sure about Windsor. Maybe he had joined Crispin in exchange for a new keyboard.
I took a deep breath, deciding now was the best time to try it. I motioned for him to follow me out of the cell, extending an olive branch. I also needed to be able to see his phone. He frowned, but obeyed. I knew magic would set off the tracker, but I had another idea. I opened myself to the Whispers, and sighed as the silver power washed through me like a gulp of hot chocolate. I made a tiny Gateway to the opposite side of the room, convincing myself I needed it more than anything in the world. A silver oval the size of my fist winked into view and Fabrizio gasped. I glanced at his phone and saw absolutely no alarm. Fabrizio did the same, shaking his head.
“Damn, Girlie! What the hell was th—?”
I socked him in the jaw, knocking him out cold as I released the Silver Gateway. I scooted him into the cell, locked the door, and tugged my boot back on. Then I picked up his phone and jogged down the hall, eyes up to check the security cameras, even though Fabrizio had supposedly disabled them. They were all off. I knew this because I had noticed their blinking green lights on my way in with Windsor.
I found a small room with medical supplies and decided to replace my bandages since they hadn’t bothered healing me. I rolled up my sleeves and replaced the saturated cloth around my arms and waist. Then, as an afterthought, I used the rest of the roll on my forearms, tying it off with my teeth. The added protection couldn’t hurt. It was messy, but it would suffice.
Now it was time to calm some terrified wolves and then convince them to help me save a vampire.
Chapter 50
I freed the girls, who had been napping in a cute spooning position on the stone floor. It looked like their werewolf healing ability had taken care of their injuries. Or, they’d been healed at some point in their incarceration, the Conclave not keen on keeping even suspected murderers in pain. Not concerned enough to provide them a bed, though.
The shifter cells were made with pure silver that had to be worth a fortune. Then, since silver was a softer metal, the metal bars had been inscribed with runes that could have knocked out a Cave of bears. Then they surrounded the silver cage with very thick marble that was also carved with runes. Must be a juicy story, there, because this was overkill.
They stared at me warily, probably exactly how I had looked when staring at Fabrizio. Close up, they were even more impressive than I had thought from the trial.
“Get up. We’re leaving. Roland’s in danger. Are you hurt? I could use the help, but I can’t afford a liability.”
“What the hell is going on?” the taller one demanded.
“Either way, you’re free to go, but getting out on your own will be no piece of cake,” I said, dropping the keys and turning my back on them. I smiled as I heard them scrambling to their feet and out to safety before I had taken two steps.
I made no sudden movements, not knowing how in control they were. In general, but also because they had spent a week locked up. “We don’t need your help, but thanks for freeing us. Your job here is done. Tell us where Roland is and we’ll get him,” the taller one said.
I blinked, and then turned to face her. “Excuse me?”
“Where is he?” the shorter one begged, but her pretty lips were curled up in a snarl, as if hungry to start tearing the flesh from anyone standing between her and Roland.
“He saved our lives,” the taller one said. “We’d do anything for him. We didn’t ask for this,” she said, waving a hand at her boobs. She was wearing clothes, but her motion had literally only indicated her ta-tas. I arched a brow and she realized how it had looked. “We didn’t ask to be raped and turned into werewolves,” she amended, “but if we can use it to help Roland, point us in the right direction and say sic ‘em,” she snarled. Then, as an afterthought, “Please.”
I just stared at the two of them. “You do realize that I was there, right? That I helped save you? I kicked serious ass in that fucking bakery, even though Roland claimed the kills, I deserve a little goddamned respect. I’m the one that fucking found your location, tracked down the bastards, spent hours on the phone, spoke to all the bartenders.” I took a step forward. “Me, not Roland. He was busy recovering from an earlier werewolf encounter. And here I am again.”
They shared a look. “I don’t remember seeing you there, but I did see you in the cells after, checking up on the other girl. I’m sure you’re a great assistant to Roland. Callie, right? I think he mentioned your name a few times,” she admitted. “My name is Tiffany, by the way.”
The other one nodded in agreement. “Jasmine,” she offered.
“Now, where is he?” Tiffany pleaded.
I was going to kill them. “Assistant?” I hissed. He had mentioned my name a few times? “I smashed a full pot of coffee over the tall werewolf’s face!” I snarled, recalling the rescue.
Tiffany’s face grew hard, obviously appreciating the amount of pain I had given her rapist.
“I’m sure that helped Roland immensely,” Jasmine said, placating my anger, looking desperate to drop the conversation and go after Roland.
I was going to save Roland just so he could tell them how much of a badass I was. I seriously contemplated delaying our rescue just so he could suffer a few minutes longer in recompense for this bullshit. I couldn’t believe this. I had spent days tracking these two down, but did they remember me? No. They just remembered the guy who carried them out of the bakery, tossed them in the back of my truck, then into a shifter prison cell, and then onto a jet to head to Rome. Where he left them to fall into this mess.
Men!
I took a deep breath so as not to kill my sidekicks, and prepared to open up to the Whispers again, focusing on my desperate need to find Roland. Because need was the key.
“Why does your butt look so puffy?” Tiffany asked me, startling me out of my focus.
I realized what they were talking about and ripped the scarf out of my pants. Then I tied it on my face, covering my nose and mouth. Maybe it would be useful to fit in. Enough for a casual glance, anyway. And this way these two mutts wouldn’t see my permanent snarl.
“Gross! Did you just tie panties onto your face?” Jasmine gasped.
I rounded on them, ready to lock them back up in their cell. They flinched back a step, eyes flickering nervously in response to my sud
den movement. Their eyes seemed to notice the scarf itself for the first time, widened, and then they snarled, going from nervous to murderous in a blink. “The killer wore that,” they said in unison.
I tugged the scarf down, taking a threatening step forward. “I fucking know?” I hissed. “I stole it from one of his associates after they jumped me last night. By the way, I stopped them from coming to kill you in your cells! With my impressive assistant skills. You’re welcome. Again.”
They shared an uncertain look, as if wondering how far to trust me. I lowered my voice and tried to relax my shoulders into a less threatening posture, taking a deep breath. They were understandably scared to see the scarf again. That was all. “I intend to use this as a disguise to get close enough to kill the rest of them. Because I would do anything to save Roland. If you have a problem with that, I’ll toss you back in your hotel suite and let the fucking Conclave take care of you.” Okay, calm had flown out the window somewhere in the middle of my tirade, but we needed to stop fucking around and save Roland.
“We want blood for what they did to Constantine, and what they’re doing to Roland,” Tiffany said. I took her for the alpha of the two, but the shorter one – Jasmine – wasn’t weak by any means. If anything, she looked to be in less control of her emotions, more unpredictable.
I nodded and turned my back on them, opening myself to the Whispers again. They purred in my ears, nothing specific, but encouraging sounds, desperate to be used. I just hoped I knew enough about them to get the job done, since my usual magic might set off the Shepherd’s wards.
With a hiss of need, I ripped open a hole in reality, the Whispers calling to me with their seductive song. The Gateway was huge, easily big enough for us to walk through side by side, almost touching both walls of the hall. Through the silvery sheen, like a wall of mist, was a thicket of trees. I saw an old, broken church a hundred feet away, and grinned, stepping through the Gateway.
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