Blood Born (47 page)

Oh, shit, if this wasn’t a recipe for disaster, he didn’t know what was. Not only were they going to be fighting vampires, they’d be badly outnumbered. He wanted to bail. He wanted to drop Rurik off, then turn tail and run—back to Texas, back to Kate. If there was a war with vampires, well, that didn’t mean he had to be a part of it in any way other than as a deliveryman. He’d done enough, hadn’t he?

He didn’t need to ask but he had to know: “Why are you here now? It’s the vampires, right?” Maybe he’d read the situation wrong and there were just a few of them, something Rurik could handle on his own.

“Yes, the vampires. The monster who killed your father, she was not alone. There are many more like her. They wish to enslave humanity, to end the world you have always known. If they win, if they ascend to power, then the beauty of your world will fade, and soon die. There will be no more music, because the
human spirit will no longer sing. Your women will no longer be soft and innocent. Humans will become cattle, slaves … less than human.”

He was already speeding, but Jimmy’s foot pressed harder against the gas pedal. After a while, Rurik smiled once more, though the joy he’d expressed earlier was gone.

“I also like speed.”

    Sorin contained his fury as he watched the white pins being stuck into Jonas’s maps. Most were in the U.S., including one in New York, but others were placed on the world maps throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. Maybe the warriors were spread out so far because they realized what was happening to their conduits, and maybe they came in from thousand of miles away because that’s where their only capable descendants lived. Whatever the reason, the revolution had suffered its first failure. They hadn’t been able to stop them all.

But they’d been able to delay the warriors’ entrance, and some had surely been halted entirely. Fewer warriors to face was a victory, of sorts. There were more black pins than white. But that didn’t lighten Sorin’s mood.

A warrior had come through in Texas, and Melody wasn’t answering her phone. The warrior was still alive, according to Jonas. Had the warrior killed her, or had she deserted when she’d failed? Either scenario was possible. Given what he’d said to her, if she hadn’t been able to take out the warrior she’d have gone to ground somewhere, hiding rather than taking the chance that Regina would kill her.

Regina was livid. She was angry with Jonas, ready to take Nevada’s head. She’d expected her plans to be executed without flaw, and they hadn’t been.

“Do I have to do
everything
myself?” Regina faced
Jonas, her anger coloring everything about her. Her posture, her normally beautiful face, the way she balled her small hands as if she were hungry for something to strike. Her fangs had extended, as if she were hungry for something else entirely. “You were supposed to locate all the conduits before any of the warriors could come through. Tell me why I shouldn’t end your pitiful existence here and now.”

“I can still be of service,” Jonas said, frazzled and tired, and not as afraid as he should’ve been. Maybe he was ready to die. Maybe he was tired of being Regina’s whipping boy, the puppy she kicked when she was having a bad day … and sometimes when she wasn’t. “I’m still able to track the warriors. I’ll know when they get here.”

And the warriors, who’d been watching everything from their own world, would know exactly where the rebels had gathered, who their leader was … and how to kill them all. They would also be enraged at what had happened to their conduits. To know exactly where the warriors were as they came closer would be a great advantage, and Regina wasn’t ignorant of that fact. Her rage faded, and she stepped back from Jonas. He was safe enough, for now.

Nevada was not. Regina had to have some outlet for her rage, and the despised little witch was her next target. She flew out of Jonas’s room and climbed the stairs like a woman on a mission. She pushed past the two surprised guards, opened the door to Nevada’s room, and stalked inside. Sorin was right behind her.

“I’ve waited as long as I intend to wait,” Regina said in her ice-cold voice “If you can’t break the spell now, then you won’t live to take another breath.”

Nevada stood, and calmly faced them. A bubble of light, one he recognized, surrounded her. Perhaps she’d known what was coming, or maybe she’d simply been
practicing, but she’d protected herself with a sanctuary spell. He waited for the shield to fall, because they’d interrupted her as she’d been working and she’d told him often enough in the past that any distraction pulled her out of her work. Her focus should break, and disrupt the spell … but nothing happened. The shield didn’t fall, but seemed to grow brighter. What was she doing? Didn’t she know her family would pay the price for her rebellion?

“I’ll break the spell when my family is free,” she said, her own voice cool and even. “All I have to do is smash this vial.” She held up a small glass tube, and the gleam from her magic bounced off the vial and what was inside it, something both bright and dark, light and heavy, pulsing with power.

Regina turned toward the door and the guards who watched. “Bring me the sister,” she ordered. “Emily.”

Sorin watched Nevada’s face. She should be terrified. In the past the mere mention of her sister’s name had brought fear into her eyes. But not tonight; tonight she looked confident and assured. He didn’t like it. Hell, what else could go wrong?

For several long minutes the two women faced each other, each one steady and silent. If anyone had asked Sorin which of them was the stronger, he wouldn’t have hesitated in his answer: Regina. But at this moment Nevada seemed to be as strong, as much in control, as the vampire queen. She’d grown in many ways since she’d been imprisoned here; she’d become much stronger than anyone had imagined she might.

Nevada closed her eyes and whispered a handful of words in one of the languages she’d learned here, in this room. If they’d known how powerful she would become, would they have ever risked bringing her here? Was breaking the spell worth creating this new and forceful creature?

Yes. Breaking the spell was worth any price, but if they’d realized it would come to this, they might’ve assigned someone to learn alongside her. Maybe then they could at least understand what she was saying when she spoke in the language of spells.

Then again, perhaps one had to be a witch in order to learn.

One of the guards, the dark-haired Danica, came back to the doorway. She was flushed and frowning, not a good look for any vampire. “Your majesty, we can’t enter the prisoners’ room.”

Regina turned to glare at the young vampire. “What do you mean?”

“It’s as if they’re in their own home.”

Regina whirled back to Nevada. “Your doing, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Nevada said, and smiled.

Anger and frustration flared in Regina’s expression, then she composed herself. “How long will you let them stay in that room and starve? Perhaps my people can’t enter, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow them to leave. I won’t release your family, witch. Not ever.”

“Then you’ll never get what you want from me,” Nevada said without a hint of concern. She didn’t seem at all agitated, as Regina did. That alone made her appear stronger, more in command. “The spell must be broken soon or all the work I’ve done is wasted, and I’ll have to start again. It takes a long time, to start from scratch. Let my family go, and when I’m sure they’re safe I’ll do as you wish.” She added, “The protective spell I’ve put on them will go with them, of course. Not that I don’t trust you, but … just to be sure. You understand, don’t you?”

“I don’t think you’re that powerful,” Regina said, sneering.

“You doubt me?” Nevada shot back. “Try me, bitch. Come and get me.”

Sorin took a single step forward. Was Nevada trying to get herself killed? Didn’t she have a clue how strong Regina was?

Regina was surprised by Nevada’s defiance, but she didn’t take the bait. She turned to the guard in the doorway. “It appears we have no choice. Release Nevada’s family. Let them all go.” She mouthed something else at Danica, but Sorin couldn’t read her lips from his position. Whatever she’d said couldn’t be good for the humans; Regina didn’t easily give up anything she considered to be her own.

Danica left to do as she’d been told, and a confident Regina looked at Sorin, turning her back so Nevada couldn’t hear her. She whispered, “It isn’t as though we can’t find them whenever we wish. The protective spell the witch cast won’t last forever.” She leaned closer. “Did you know she could do such a thing?”

He shook his head. They’d taken Nevada, trained her, tried to force from her what they wanted and needed. Somewhere along the way, his little witch had grown very strong, too strong for Regina to allow her to live. She’d signed her own death warrant.

“Now what?” Regina asked as she faced Nevada.

The shield around Nevada intensified once more, grew more colorful. Sparks shot through it. Nevada said, “Now we wait.”

Of all the places in the world Chloe didn’t want to ever visit again, this was number one on her list. She should be running in the other direction. She didn’t want to be here—not that she really had much of a choice in the matter.

Last night vampires had tried to kill her just a few feet away from where she and Luca now crouched. The memory of the attack was so fresh she’d probably be hearing whispers and creaks and bumps in the night that weren’t really there—that is, if she could hear anything other than her pounding heartbeat. She knew why she was a target: conduit, warrior, war. She knew this had to be done. That didn’t change her mind about the joy of being here again.

She didn’t want this excitement, she sure as hell hadn’t asked for it, but it was hers nonetheless. Hiding wasn’t an option. If the vampires managed to lift the spell that kept a human’s home a vampire-free haven, no one would be safe. And she had to admit that, even though at the moment her flight-or-fight instincts were leaning toward flight, she wasn’t going to send Luca out alone, not when she could be beside him. He didn’t need her protection, she’d likely be more of a distraction than a help, but this had become her war from the first
moment she’d dreamed of her Warrior, and she couldn’t hide from it.

Accepting that this was meant to be, that she
had
to be here, calmed her quite a bit. She’d faced worse and survived, after all. A failed relationship or two. D.C. traffic. Running out of shrimp on a Friday night. Sorin threatening Valerie. Ahron, strange and scary as hell. Three vampires out for her head. She’d get through this, too.

She and Luca were both dressed all in black. Black pants, shirts, and shoes. They looked like a couple of secret agents in a slick movie, only in the movies the secret agents never got so scared that they worried they might wet their pants.

At least tonight she was armed. Not only had Luca presented her with a short, very sharp sword, he’d also armed her with an oversized, heavy flashlight with a powerful full-spectrum bulb. A blast from that flashlight wouldn’t kill a vampire the way sunlight would, but it would hurt. Aim for the eyes, he’d said. Most vampires would be blinded by the light, at least momentarily and maybe for a good long while—unless they were wearing sunglasses, the way Sorin had been the first time she’d seen him.

If for some reason the light didn’t work, the sword was her next best bet. Luca had told her to stab the heart three or four times to make sure it was destroyed. Removing the head was best, he said, but it also took strength she didn’t have. She couldn’t expect to tap a vamp on the side of the neck and be done with it.

Her stomach turned a bit when she remembered the brief sight of last night’s severed heads, and all that blood. Multiple stab wounds directly in the heart would be just as messy. Could she do that?

Hell yes, she could.

In addition to the flashlight and the sword, she had
her trusty pepper spray tucked in one pocket, just in case. Though, seriously, if she tried both the light and the sword and a vampire was still coming, the pepper spray wouldn’t do her a whole helluva lot of good.

If she was well-armed, Luca was a walking armory. One short shotgun and two handguns were strapped to his body, and he wore a bandolier of shotgun shells. A sword in a leather sheath hung from his waist. He had knives strapped to his ankles, knives strapped to his wrists. Since she knew he was capable of killing a vampire with his bare hands, the weapons were, maybe, overkill. Then again, if he thought he needed so much in the way of weapons, she should be doubly worried.

Chloe passed the time distracting herself, pumping herself up—mentally, at least—and trying to convince herself that this night was like any other. To tell the truth, though, at the moment she’d give almost anything to be dealing with unsatisfied customers and shrimp shortages, to be balancing accounts and smoothing the way between employees who had personal issues. She’d love to worry about her bank account, school, and her parents’ scheduled visit. Had she once thought those problems were difficult? Lately her problems had been getting progressively worse. That trend had to change soon. Right?

She peeked at the mansion; it looked as if every light inside was on—every one outside, too. The place was lit up like a casino, so brightly illuminated it had to be tough to tell from inside if it was day or night.

After watching for a while, they moved closer to the house, sticking to shadows while they still could. Chloe followed in Luca’s footsteps. Literally. Sneaking around wasn’t her strong suit, not that she would ever be as silent as Luca. She heard her own footsteps, but he didn’t make a sound. Her breathing was too heavy; his was completely silent. Everything seemed to crunch and
snap beneath her feet; he moved like a ghost. As they reached the property line Luca dropped down behind a hedge. Chloe followed suit, hunkering down close to him. She kept one hand on the sword that hung at her side, to keep it from making too much noise, and with the other hand she tightly gripped the heavy flashlight.

Luca watched the brightly lit house and waited, tension on his face and in the way he held his body, his full attention focused on what was about to happen. He’d made his calls, but he didn’t know who might actually come—or if anyone would. The two of them might be on their own, one vampire and one human against who knows how many vampires set on ruling the world. Luca wasn’t an ordinary vampire—she couldn’t believe she’d used “ordinary” and “vampire” in the same sentence—but he was just one man. He couldn’t survive against such overpowering odds.