A Kiss of Blood: A Vamp City Novel (7 page)

Chapter Six

Q
uinn took her seat beside Zack in the back of what appeared to be an old hay wagon, then turned so that Arturo could wrap a rope around her wrist to make it look like she was tied. The wagon was partially covered by a canopy stretched across the top of curved bows, falling to within eighteen inches of the wooden sidewalls on each side, allowing her a view if she ducked her head just a little bit.

“Don’t fidget,” Arturo warned. “Or the ropes will fall off. They’re barely hanging on to your wrists.” When he was through, he moved to the other side of the wagon. As he reached through and “tied” Zack’s wrists, his gaze found her. “If anyone approaches, keep your eyes closed,
cara.
It would not do for anyone to see your eyes glow if your power sparks.”

“I know, Vampire,” she said testily. “You’ve reminded me three times.”

“You’re acting like a helicopter parent, Ax,” Micah chided, coming to stand at the foot of the wagon. “Hover, hover, hover. Quinn’s a smart girl.”

Arturo grunted. “You haven’t seen her in the full throes of her power.” Truthfully, he had reason to be concerned. She was nearly sick with worry that they wouldn’t make it out of Gonzaga kovena lands . . . Cristoff’s lands . . . without being stopped. If anyone figured out who she was, and that Zack was her brother . . . The thought caught in her throat until she could barely breathe around it.

Arturo rounded the wagon and reached for her, his hand curling around her knee. “
Cara mia,
” he said softly, “I’ll not let anything happen to you.”

She swallowed, annoyed that he could feel her emotions. “Neither will I.”

His mouth tightened just a fraction. With a nod, he straightened and turned to the two Traders who would drive the team of horses. “Off with you.”

One of the Traders flicked the reins, and, a moment later, the wagon lurched forward. As they braced themselves against the sudden movement, Quinn and Zack exchanged wary, worried looks. So many things could go wrong, even if the two vampires really were wholly on their side this time.

Quinn had been shocked by Arturo’s inviting the two Traders into his living room earlier. Her only experiences with them had been bad ones. But she supposed all Traders were no more coldhearted mercenaries than all humans were Mother Teresas. Arturo had introduced them as friends and told her they could be trusted. And so, for now, she’d reserve judgment. Allies might well make the difference between life and death in this place. Twice she’d struck out on her own in Vamp City, and twice she’d been caught. And that was before she had a price on her head. With Cristoff’s entire guard contingent searching for her, her situation was far more precarious.

Plus, where would she go? If there was a safe haven anywhere in Vamp City, she didn’t know about it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d trust the vampires until they gave her a reason to doubt their motives. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye open for alternatives.

The wagon rattled along the dirt road, the wheels hitting pits and rocks, knocking Quinn into the rails closest to the Traders often enough and hard enough that she was going to have bruises. At least she and Zack sat deep in the shadows, where they’d be the least likely to draw attention if anyone saw them.

They’d left the city behind quickly and without incident—urban structures hadn’t extended much past downtown in 1870—and now traveled through the woods. The dead woods. The only trees that grew in V.C.—and they grew in abundance—were dead ones. Which twisted her scientific mind into knots. But there was only so much that science could explain in a world created from magic.

Quinn ducked her head, peering out, wishing she could see some sign of Arturo and Micah in the dark. She’d feel better if she knew they were close by. Arturo had promised they’d follow at a distance, keeping watch without making it obvious they were associated with the Traders and their human cargo. And as the wagon had pulled out of Arturo’s yard, she’d seen him and Micah mounting horses, so she had to believe the trip was going as planned. A plan that, hopefully, she wasn’t going to have to kill Arturo over.

On the bright side, she and Arturo had developed some kind of link when he first sucked her blood—an unusual link that allowed him to sense her emotions and allowed him to speak to her telepathically. She wasn’t sure why it had formed. Maybe because of her magic. To her knowledge, he never heard her thoughts in return, so if they got into trouble, she wouldn’t be able to call for help. But the moment her terror spiked, he’d know.

She shivered at the thought that he’d been right across the hall, in Mike’s apartment, on and off the past couple of weeks. Had he felt her dreaming about him? And she had, on too many occasions, dreamed he was back in her arms and in her bed. Heat began to rise into her cheeks. Of course he had. No wonder he’d been so quick to want a few minutes alone with her.

A faint light caught her eye in the distance, and she peered out again, recognizing the windows of a house. She wondered who lived there. Vampires? Werewolves? That probably depended on where they were.

From what she’d learned on her previous visits, Vamp City was in the shape of a disc, its borders a circle extending approximately three miles in every direction from the spot they called the Focus, where Phineas Blackstone had originally summoned the magic to create it. Vamp masters had laid claim to land around the outer circle for their kovenas, the vamp equivalent of mob families. The unclaimed lands between them were called the Nod. The wild and dangerous inner lands were called the Crux, home to the werewolves and the Rippers.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Zack asked quietly.

“No clue. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, then smiled to herself. He’d eaten enough for four men less than two hours ago. Zack was definitely feeling better.

“There’ll be food where we’re going,” one of the Traders commented, his voice low and scratchy. Apparently, Traders not only had good night vision but good hearing. They ought to, considering the size of those ears.

A moment later, the same Trader spoke again. “We’ve got company coming.”

Unfriendly company, if his tone was anything to go by. Beneath the sound of the wagon and their own horses, she heard another rhythmic pounding. Horse hooves.

“Rippers or werewolves?” she asked quietly.

“Neither. Quiet, now.”

Neither meant they were vampires. Emoras. Possibly Cristoff’s men.

Her pulse began to pound though not yet tear out of her chest. A healthy dose of fear wasn’t a bad thing if any of these vamps were fear-feeders. There would be no hiding from them, and a human tied in the back of a Trader’s wagon
should
be afraid. Very, very afraid.

Her mind spun with options. She still had her weapons. But reaching for one meant untangling her hands from the ropes and giving away the fact that she wasn’t really a captive. Nor could she afford for her power to start glowing in her eyes. If she started the fight, she and her allies might be able to end it, but maybe not before one of these vampires got away to spread the tale that Arturo and Micah were in league with the sorceress.

No, her best defense was to play the role she’d been given—captive—and trust Arturo to do what he did best: lie.

The sound of the horses’ hooves grew steadily louder until it sounded like there must be a dozen of them. But when the dark forms finally coalesced, circling the wagon, she could make out only four. In the faint moonlight, three appeared to be males, or were at least dressed like males. The one in the long split skirt and fancy white blouse was clearly a female.

The Trader called, “Whoa,” bringing the team, wagon, and Quinn to a lurching stop.

One of the vamps climbed off his horse and leaped into the wagon, vampire-fast, sending Quinn’s heart squeezing into her throat and her hand itching to grab for her gun.

Arturo, this would be a good time to make an appearance.

The vamp reached forward and grabbed Zack’s hair, wrenching her brother’s head back, as if baring his neck for the strike.

Quinn, furious, clenched her hands into fists to keep from staking him. A tingling heat flared in her palms and began to crawl up her arms, beneath her skin.

Shit.
Her eyes. She squeezed them closed, praying she’d done it in time. If she hadn’t, she’d surely have heard the vampire’s exclamation. Unfortunately, keeping her eyes closed did nothing to calm the growing need to protect her brother. Which only made the power beneath her skin burn hotter.

Beside her, she could hear Zack struggling against the vampire’s hold. Zack sounded mad. At the first sound of his pain, she was pulling her gun, her secrets be damned.

The vampire called to his friends. “This one’s got some height to him, but little muscle mass. Still, he could be of use.”

“Take him,” one of his companions replied.

“These two are already sold,” the deep-voiced Trader said calmly. “I’m just delivering them.”

The female vamp laughed. “Looks like you’re going to have to pay back the money then. Finders, keepers,” she added in a singsong voice.

Quinn fought to calm herself, to douse the power now burning in her veins. Beside her, Zack grunted, and she felt him moving, or being pulled, away from her. The soft thud of Zack’s ropes hitting the wooden floor of the wagon sent a bolt of cold fear shooting up her spine. The creepy tingling beneath her skin grew worse.

The closest vamp began to chuckle. “You were about to lose this one anyway.”

He thought Zack had worked himself free. Of course he would.

Without warning, she felt the hard press of cold hands on her jaw and gasped, her heart leaping until it thundered in her ears. Only by sheer force of will did she manage to keep her eyes closed and her hands behind her back.

“This one’s plain as mud, but serviceable. Open your eyes, chippy.” He squeezed her jaw hard, until her eyes began to water. “I said, open!”

But there was no way in hell she could do that, not unless she wanted to give up the game. Because she knew her eyes must be glowing by now. She could feel the energy surging through her veins, wild and uncontrolled, and a new thought had her head pounding. If her power flew free, the vampires might be tossed away from her. But Zack could get caught in it, too, and hurt.

Her hands began to shake with the force of her struggle to hold a lid on the power. The best thing she could do was calm down, but that wasn’t happening, not with a vampire threatening to break her jaw.

Her whole body began to shake like a volcano ready to blow. Beneath her, even the wagon started to vibrate.

“What the hell are you doing, chippy?” the vampire growled.

The vampires circling the wagon shouted. “Sunbeams!”

“It’s nighttime, you moron. There’s no sun in either world at night.”

The hair on Quinn’s arms lifted, and she knew the worlds had opened nearby. Suddenly, she could hear the dull roar of traffic and that constant buzz of electricity that most were never aware of until it was absent. A car alarm bleated in the distance.

It was all she could do not to open her eyes, to see the world she’d left behind. The power crawled through her veins, cutting even as it burned, seeking a way out. If something didn’t give soon . . .

We are coming,
cara mia. Arturo’s voice rang in her head.
Remain calm.

Right. Calm. She had a vampire ready to claw her eyes open, and she was shaking so badly from trying to hold back the power that, for a minute, she’d thought she’d caused the earthquake that had opened the break between the worlds.

“Ho, there!” Arturo called, the sound of hoofbeats carrying to her beneath the sounds of her world. “By order of Cristoff Gonzaga, I demand to know who and what you take from his lands.”

The Trader with the deep voice replied. “Slaves, Arturo Mazza. Just slaves who came in through a sunbeam.”

“Mazza?” The vamp holding her released her suddenly. “Bollocks.”

“A sunbeam on Gonzaga lands,” Arturo continued smoothly, “which makes them Cristoff’s property. You know what happens to those who steal from Cristoff, Trader.”

“Just searching for one of my escaped freshies,” the vamp who’d been accosting her said, moving away. “This one isn’t her.”

Ha. No shit, Sherlock.

And just like that it was over. A moment later, over the loud rumble of a truck, she heard what sounded like horses galloping off into the night. Was it Arturo who’d scared them off, or the threat of what Cristoff would do to them?

She didn’t know and, at the moment, didn’t much care.

“They are gone,
cara,
” Arturo said, his voice drawing near. “But keep your eyes closed. The glow will be seen far in the distance.” She felt his hand cup her knee “You are shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m not in control.” She pulled her hands from the ropes, stretching them in front of her. “Get Zack away from me. Get everyone away from me.”

“I have a better idea.”

She felt Arturo’s arms slide beneath her knees and behind her back. “What are you doing?”

“Moving you away. If your power flies, it may spook the horses.”

She couldn’t argue his logic. He lifted her into his arms, and she curved her arm around his neck and held on tight as he began to run. Being in his arms felt so natural, so right, so . . . safe. It was a mistake to feel that way, she knew it. And yet on some gut-deep level, she trusted him. She always had, which was why his betrayals had cut so deep.

The wind raked at her face and hair, but strong arms held her tight. And as quickly as the ride began, it ended.

“Where did you take me?” Quinn asked breathlessly, struggling not to open her eyes.

“A quarter of a mile from the others, no more.” He set her on her feet. “Release your power,
bella.
It is safe here.”

“That’s easier said than done.” If she knew how to release it, she’d have fired her energy at the Traders in her apartment instead of her gun.

“Lift your hands and blast me, Quinn.”