A Kiss of Blood: A Vamp City Novel (22 page)

“I can stay for a little while.”

Micah lifted a hand. “If Kas is going to accompany you, I’ll stay here and feed. I’ll meet you over there in time for the meeting.”

As Micah and Neo turned back for the house, Rinaldo brought several fresh mounts around. Arturo gave Quinn a leg up on one, then he and Kassius mounted the other two. The three started off, Quinn between them.

A short while later, they pulled up in front of what appeared to be a deserted house—two stories with a crumbling porch, shutters hanging askew or missing altogether, and the glass of most of the windows shattered. An old-style haunted mansion, they’d call it in the real world. Here it was just one of hundreds of shells left to disintegrate by a population that needed far less housing than their doppelganger world provided.

Arturo swung down. “Wait here while I ensure it is safe.” A moment later, he disappeared through the front door.

Quinn turned to Kassius. “Any luck finding Lily?”

He shook his head. “I sent a man to investigate. I’ll let you know as soon as I learn something.”

She nodded, praying they found Lily and got her out of there safely.

“You’ve found your power?” Kassius asked her quietly.

“I’ve found something. I’m still figuring out what I can do.”

“It will come.”

“I hope so. Kassius, I’m not sure if I ever thanked you properly for rescuing me from Cristoff’s dungeon. But thank you.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I was happy to do it. Happier still that Ax requested it. I had begun to fear we were losing him to the darkness, but you changed that.”

“Your own conscience was never compromised, was it?”

“I don’t believe so, no. I suspect my wolf blood is the reason.”

“You’re very loyal to Arturo.”

“We all are. I would follow him to the ends of the earth, sorceress. I sometimes think I have.”

Chapter Twenty

“A
ll clear,” Arturo said, striding down the front steps of the crumbling house.

Before Quinn could dismount, Arturo was at her side, helping her down, sliding an arm around her waist.

“I’m okay,” she told him.

“Good.” But Arturo didn’t remove his arm as he led her into the dusty house that smelled of age, rot, and mildew.

“I’m surprised these places are still standing after a 140-plus years,” she murmured.

“Some are, some aren’t. Lack of sun keeps them from rotting as quickly as they would have in your world. And perhaps, a touch of the magic.”

Once they were in the house, Arturo released her and set about lighting candles and oil lamps, revealing walls and flooring as decrepit as she’d expected—chunks of plaster missing from the walls, the wooden floor lifted and broken in places. The furniture in the house was another matter. By rights, it should have looked as broken-down and ancient as the structure around it. Instead, a pair of worn, but by no means ancient leather recliners, flanked a new leather sofa. And against one wall stood half a dozen gray, folding metal chairs that looked like they’d been nabbed from the closest elementary-school auditorium.

There were no cobwebs, no signs of critter infestation. But she supposed there wouldn’t be since there were no living things in Vamp City that the vampires hadn’t intentionally brought in.

“How many people are we expecting for this powwow?” Quinn asked.

“There will be nine of us in all.”

Quinn reached for one of the metal chairs and unfolded it, surprised to find it in nearly new condition. “How do you get things like this here?” But she knew, and answered her own question. “Traders.”

“Yes.”

Arturo helped her set up the chairs. They’d just finished when Mukdalla walked in through the front door, accompanied by her vampire husband, Rinaldo. Mukdalla smiled when she saw Quinn, and strode right over, giving her a big hug.

Quinn stiffened. She’d never been a hugger. Never been particularly comfortable with displays of affection.

Mukdalla released her quickly and stepped back, her smile less bright than before. “I’m glad you’re okay, Quinn. Are you feeling better? Or at least in better control?”

“I’m getting there.”

When she didn’t expound on that, Mukdalla nodded. “All right. Well, I’m sure it will come.” She turned to join her husband, who’d taken up watch at one of the windows.

Quinn felt Arturo’s gaze and turned to find him watching her thoughtfully.

Soon, the others began to arrive. Amanda strode in the door, accompanied by a Slava male and Neo.

“Micah took a different route,” Neo told Arturo. “But he should be here in a few minutes.”

Amanda led the Slava male to Quinn, a wide smile lighting her face. “Quinn, I’d like for you to meet my husband. This is Sam. Sam, Quinn Lennox, our sorceress.”

Sam thrust out his hand, and Quinn shook it. “It’s an honor to meet you, Quinn. We’ve been hoping and praying for your arrival for quite some time.”

Quinn smiled uncomfortably. So many people’s lives were dependent upon her, and not just in Vamp City. If she renewed the magic, how many innocent humans would be rounded up and killed for food and sport? But if she didn’t renew it, people she’d met and come to like would lose their lives. Amanda and Sam, Neo and Rinaldo, Kassius and Bram.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best.” What else was there to say? She turned to Amanda. “Tell me about Zack. He’s burning up, hotter than before.”

The woman’s mien turned professional. “His temperature is rising, I’m afraid. And shows no sign of stopping.”

“Yet he still continues to feel fine. He’s working out, for heaven’s sake.”

Sam gave his wife’s shoulder a squeeze, nodded at Quinn, and went to join the men.

“That’s typical with magic sickness,” Amanda continued. “But that kind of body heat will still be a problem if it goes too high.”

“His brain will fry.”

Amanda’s mouth compressed. “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“How quickly is that likely to happen?”

“I don’t know, Quinn.” She shrugged apologetically. “Nothing is ever certain when magic is concerned. But I’ll be glad when you’ve renewed the magic. For a lot of reasons.”

“Here comes Micah,” Arturo said loud enough for all to hear.

Rinaldo started for the door. “Sam and I’ll take watch.” The two males headed out as Kassius and Micah walked in.

When they’d all taken their seats—some on the sofa and recliners, others, including Quinn and Arturo, on the metal chairs—Arturo began, glancing at Quinn. “Tomorrow is the equinox. Quinn’s magic has been freed to some extent, hopefully enough to renew the magic of Vamp City.”

“Thank you,” Mukdalla whispered to the heavens, pressing her hands together.

“The problem we have now is twofold.” Arturo leaned forward, his arms on his knees, his expression dead serious. “One, the magic must be renewed in the Focus. It might occur to Cristoff to keep watch there, so we’ll have to scout the area fully before we take Quinn.”

“Not
we,
” Kassius said quietly. “Not you. You can’t go near the Focus tomorrow, Ax. Cristoff cannot know you’re involved.”

“I shall remain out of sight.”

“Far out of sight.”

“Does the ritual have to take place at a certain time?” Neo asked. “Like midnight?”

Arturo shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. But there is a second problem. Quinn does not know the ritual that must be performed to renew the magic.”

Sounds of frustration and disappointment peppered the small room, and it was clear that Neo, Amanda, and Mukdalla hadn’t known.

“Sheridan Blackstone is the only one who knows the words,” Arturo told them. “He was there, listening, when his father performed the first renewal after Phineas attempted to destroy his creation in 1878.”

“Will Sheridan help her, then?” Neo asked.

Micah snorted. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.”

Kassius glanced at Quinn, his gaze sharp with knowledge. “I have something on Grant.”

And she bet she knew what it was. When Arturo had delivered her to Cristoff after her first escape, Cristoff had demanded to know who set her free. He’d sent for Kassius since the werevamp could, through a bite, steal another’s memories. After Kassius bit her, he’d told Cristoff the truth, to an extent, that two Slavas had set her free—Slavas she’d already sent home through a sunbeam. But Kassius had left out most of the details, like the existence of the tunnels beneath Gonzaga Castle known only to the Slavas. Tunnels created magically by Sheridan’s brother, Grant. He’d also failed to mention to Cristoff that Grant had been the one who’d orchestrated her escape.

If Cristoff learned of Grant’s involvement, there was no telling what he’d do to him.

Kassius smiled grimly. “When I get back, Grant and I will have a discussion about what I know and what he’s going to do to secure my silence.”

Arturo leaned back. “There’s a good chance that Sheridan and Grant will be followed when they leave the castle for the Focus. We’re going to need a diversion.”

“I’ll handle that.” Micah smiled. “Cristoff will be certain the sorceress is right under his nose.” He’d probably use glamour to make himself look like her. “We need to set a timetable. It’s damned inconvenient that cell phones don’t work in this place.”

“What time shall I tell Grant to meet us at the Focus?” Kassius asked.

Arturo frowned. “Make it 5:00
P.M.
That should give you plenty of time to get Grant and Sheridan in place.”

“Cristoff will be frantic,” Micah murmured. “The equinox dawns, and he has no sorceress.”

“If word reaches Gonzaga Castle that the sorceress was spotted at Fabian’s?” Kassius asked.

“Remind Cristoff that I will not stop hunting her until I’ve captured her. That will be enough.”

“The moment this is over, any of us who’ve been spotted by Sheridan or Grant Blackstone had better disappear. Especially you, Kas.” Micah’s brows drew down. “Even if he doesn’t have them followed, Cristoff will know the Blackstones were involved. The moment Cristoff threatens either of them, they’ll give you up.” He glanced at Arturo. “Even if Cristoff regains his soul through this, he’ll never forgive a traitor. Ever.”

Silence sat thick in the room for several moments before Arturo spoke.

“Quinn and I will remain here and work on her magic until time to go to the Focus. The better control she has, the better for all involved.”

The discussion turned to logistics and diversions, and while Quinn listened, many of the names and places went right past her. Finally, the meeting was over.

Neo rose. “Rinaldo will stay and keep watch for you. Mukdalla’s promised to send food back for Quinn.”

As the others exited through the front door, Micah turned to Quinn, his eyes warm with concern. “Have you recovered?”

“For the most part. I think I’m just tired, now.”

“Good.” He flashed her a friendly grin and followed the others out the door.

When they were alone, Arturo turned to her, his eyes dark and fathomless. “Time for bed,
cara mia.
You are asleep on your feet.”

But Quinn shook her head. “Not yet. I want to try to practice first.” The sooner she learned how to control her gift, the safer they’d all be.

“If you’re sure.”

She smiled at him. “This moment, I’m sure. Five seconds from now, I might decide I’m too tired and go to bed.” She looked around the ancient house warily. “We’d better go outside. If I try throwing power in here, I could bring this whole place down on top of us.”

“If you bring the house down, so be it. It will have served its purpose. I’ll make certain you get out safely.”

She peered at him curiously, but then her tired brain caught up. “You’re afraid my eyes will glow.”

“Yes.” He looked around the room, then pointed to one of the folding chairs. “Try to push that.”

Quinn eyed it, clenching and unclenching her fists. The power still flowed beneath her skin, as it had ever since Vintry released it, but calmly now. Just a gentle current of energy. Narrowing her eyes, she wondered if she’d need an adrenaline spike to get it going. There was only one way to find out.

Lifting a single hand, palm out, she focused on the chair and willed it to move if only a couple of feet.

Nothing happened.
Dammit.
She’d thought she was past this phase.

With a twist of her lips, she tried again, imagining the chair slamming into the back of the hearth. Still nothing happened. When that first Ripper had attacked her, she’d had no trouble pushing him back. Then again, her life had been on the line.

“I have an idea,” the vampire said behind her.

Quinn glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you going to try to terrify me? My power seems to work best when I feel threatened.”

He smiled as he joined her. “Would you believe me if I promised to tear out your throat?”

“Fortunately, no.”

Coming up behind her, he slipped one well-muscled arm around her waist, and dipped his head to her neck.

“Are you going to bite me?” she asked, surprised. But she felt no prick of fangs, only the cool brush of his lips. And felt an answering shiver of pleasure.

“I am going to do what I’ve been wanting to do for hours,” he said huskily. He turned her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, his hand sliding into her hair, the other pulling her hips tight against his. When she slid her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his, he slid his tongue inside with a groan, pulling her closer still. Passion erupted between them, a heady, wonderful pleasure that stole all thoughts, all worries, drenching her body in pleasure.

“This isn’t helping me reach my magic,” she said breathlessly, as his lips trailed kisses along her cheek and jaw.

“This
is
magic,” he replied, his hands roaming restlessly across her back. “I need to be inside you,
bella.
”

“There are vampires outside.”

“They won’t come in.”

A burst of humor left her mouth on a sigh. “And you don’t care if they do.”

“I do not.” His mouth nuzzled her neck. “I need to taste you, to feast on you, to worship your body in comfort and leisure without anyone’s forcing our intimacy.” As Fabian had last time.

And she needed that, too. Heaven help her, she needed him. That quickly, their kiss had stirred her into a frenzy of desire that sang in her blood, snapping and popping . . .

She stilled.

He lifted his head, peering at her with question.

“Hold on a second. Let me try something.” When he slowly, reluctantly, released her, she turned once more to the chair, lifted her hand, and sent it flying into the wall.

“The passion?” he queried.

“I guess. It seems that my magic only works when
some
thing’s stirring my blood.”

He pulled her back against him, one hand sliding over her breast, the other between her jeans-clad legs. Quinn groaned, arching at the pleasure of his hands on her.

“All I need is you, Vampire,” she gasped.

He growled low in her ear, his teeth nipping lightly at her earlobe, without fangs. His fingers slid against the crotch of her jeans, stroking, heating . . .

“You are my sun,” he breathed, his breath warm against her cheek. His hand ducked under the hem of her shirt and burrowed up, his fingers sliding over her bra cup, tracing the edges, delving beneath to find the sensitive bud of her nipple.

She gasped at the sweet pleasure, arching against him as he pushed the cup aside, as he stroked her breast and plucked at the bud.

Suddenly, he was in front of her, on his knees, his clever fingers unfastening her bra clasp with one hand and her jeans button with the other. Her bra gave way. He brushed the cups aside, sliding his hands around to her back, pulling her close, then taking her breast into his mouth.

Quinn clung to him, sliding her fingers into his hair as she struggled for breath against the exquisite pleasure, his tongue stroking her nipple, his lips caressing the flesh of her breast, his warm hands sliding with tender care and increasing urgency over her back.