Rajmund (41 page)

"I know,” Sarah said and tightened her hold on the frightened young woman.

"They killed Regina."

"No,” Sarah said quickly. “We found Regina in time and we saved her."

Trish sat up and stared at her in the faint light. “For real? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No way, hon. She's alive and so are we, and I intend to stay that way. We're getting out of here, Trish. I don't know how yet, but we are definitely getting out of here alive."

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Byron's house looked much the same as it had four nights ago. Byron, however, did not. He groveled on the floor in front of Raj, naked but for a pair of loose sweatpants, blood running from several deep gashes across his chest and arms.

Raj looked at Cervantes, his brow quirked.

"He tried to escape, my lord,” Cervantes deadpanned.

Raj considered the contrast between the spindly Byron and Cervantes and permitted himself a small smile. It didn't last long. He strolled over to Byron and crouched down to meet the weaker vampire's eyes, his forearms on his knees and his hands hanging loosely between them. “You don't look so good, By."

Byron flashed him a look of intense dislike before quickly lowering his head and hiding behind a fall of lanky hair. “I didn't do nuthin,” he muttered.

"No? Then maybe it was just Nina. What do you think? Can't have our humans defying us like that, can we? Shall I kill her for you?"

Byron's head came up, sheer panic in his eyes. “Nina didn't do it, Raj. I swear."

"Do what?” Raj asked softly.

Byron blinked quickly, knowing he was caught. “Whatever it is,” he insisted, his voice dropping into a plaintive whine. “You send these guys to roust me out, I figure something's going on, but I was sleeping, man. You know that. And Nina, she wouldn't do—"

Raj crooked a finger and Byron screamed, his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck standing out like shards of bone. Raj dropped his hand and Byron fell forward, curling in on himself like the wounded animal he was, his hands wrapped around his head as he wept loudly.

Raj leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear Nina's heart beating, By? I can."

The weeping vampire raised his head to stare at Raj in horror.

"How loud do you think you'll have to scream before she comes out of her hiding place? Let's see, shall we?"

"No,” Byron whimpered. “No, you can't—” His voice was shredded as he shrieked in agony, blood running from his ears, his eyes, and every pore as Raj closed his fist and squeezed him dry. Blood began to pool beneath him and Cervantes stepped back fastidiously, his eyes gleaming butter yellow with a combination of blood lust and excitement.

Raj raised his head to catch Cervantes's gaze before shifting enough to cast a lazy glance at a section of the cheap, paneled wainscoting lining the dreary room. Cervantes's eyes widened and he studied the paneling carefully, running a thick-fingered hand along the surface until he found what he was looking for. He looked over his shoulder at Raj, who shook his head briefly before returning his attention to the dying Byron.

"What a waste, By,” he said with real regret. “I would have protected you.” He stood with a slight gesture and watched dispassionately as Byron crumbled to dust at his feet. He brushed his hands together briskly and jerked his chin up in a signal to Cervantes.

The big vampire closed his hand into a fist and smashed it into the wainscoting, eliciting a scream of surprise and fear from Nina who was huddled deep inside her hidey-hole. Cervantes reached in and dragged her out with no more compassion than he'd shown Byron, holding her by the scruff of her neck so that she dangled in front of him. “What shall I do with this, my lord?

Raj's lip curled up in distaste as he touched the weeping woman's mind. Her thoughts were chaotic with fear, scattering before him like leaves in the wind. He caught an image of Sarah and clung to it, wrenching the memory from Nina's brain with no care for the damage he might do. He saw the abductors, saw his human guard fall trying to shove Sarah back to safety, saw her thrown into the back seat as the battle raged all around. But he knew all of this. He searched the muddle that was Nina's brain once more and found what he was looking for. A phone call, the voice on the other end. One that Raj recognized.

He withdrew from Nina's awareness, his power shoving her away like the distasteful piece of meat she was. She fell into the puddle of dust and blood that had been Byron and tried to push herself up, staring at the bloody goop on her hands and shrieking in horror when she realized what it must be. She scrambled away on all fours, leaving red streaks behind as she huddled against the wall, eyes wild as she gibbered madly.

"My lord,” Em said from behind him. “Shall I—"

"No,” he said sharply. “Leave her as she is."

"But—"

Raj spun and studied his lieutenant with eyes that glowed a deep, frosty blue. Everyone stilled, the only noise the insane mutterings of a madwoman and the sound of Em dropping to one knee.

"Forgive me, my lord."

He let her stay there to the count of three breaths and then strode from the room. “We're going to Krystof's,” he said flatly.

His vampires rushed to follow, several cutting ahead of him to serve as a vanguard against any enemies who might have anticipated their moves and lay in wait outside. Raj frowned, but recognized the necessity. It was one he'd have to get used to from now on. Assuming he survived this night.

Krystof's house looked the same as it always did. An aging mansion with shuttered windows and a driveway full of late model cars. Raj stood on the street, his power tamped down once again—there was no reason to shout out his presence to the vampire lord. Although between his blowup earlier and his confrontation with Byron, the old man had to know he was coming, especially once he'd taken Sarah. But it was the very normalcy of the house that troubled him. He'd expected more resistance, a frontline of defense, something to give Krystof advance warning and spend Raj's resources, weakening him before he ever entered the house.

He felt Em come up behind him. “What's wrong with this picture?” he asked.

"It's too quiet,” she replied immediately. “I'd expect Krystof to set his frontline far away from his precious self.” She nodded at the vampire lord's house. “I've seen more security than this at a frat house."

Raj smiled tightly. “Been to many of those, Em?"

"A few,” she acknowledged. “Those well-fed young men are always so eager to share."

He snorted in amusement. “I'll take two in with me."

"My lord . . . Raj, I—"

"I need you out here, Em."

She sighed and waved over her shoulder. Cervantes and Yossi stepped up and took up positions to either side of him. Raj gave Em a sideways look.

"They drew straws for the honor,” she said.

He snorted, thinking that accompanying one's Sire into possible death was hardly much of an honor. “I do appreciate the thought, gentlemen."

Cervantes gave him a grin, while Yossi nodded silently. Both eyed the silent house eagerly, muscles taut with the effort of remaining still, eyes gleaming in the street lights.

"We'll go in the back again,” Raj said coolly. “If my previous visits are anything to go by . . .” He lifted his head to indicate the house in front of them with a smirk. “. . . I don't think we'll have a problem. You can flank me however you want, until . . .” He shifted his gaze, making eye contact with each of them, marveling that he could earn the staunch loyalty of such strong, capable vampires. “Until,” he repeated, continuing in a softer voice, “we reach Krystof's inner sanctum. At that point, I proceed alone."

He saw their uneasy reactions and smiled. “I understand your concerns,” he said and raised his eyes to include Emelie in his words. “But it must be this way. Emelie?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Remember your promise."

Her eyes filled with pink tears, but she nodded once, sharply. “Yes, my lord."

He gazed around at the assembled vampires and noted with some surprise the number of human guards who'd chosen to accompany them. He hadn't noticed them at Byron's, which meant someone had called them. He glanced over and saw Emelie avoiding his gaze. He shook his head in amazement. She was a rare gem, his Emelie.

He raised his head and let his power flow, reveling in the unparalleled rush of exhilaration as it spun outward into the night, announcing his presence to Krystof and to anyone else in range with the ability to detect such things. He breathed deeply and the air filling his lungs tasted as sweet and pure as any breath he'd ever drawn. His awareness stretched lazily, like a cat rising from an afternoon nap, his senses taking in the night around him. The beating of his vampires’ hearts surrounded him like a timpani concerto, those of his human followers weaker but just as true. He closed his eyes against the overload of sensation, the tempting intoxication, and then opened them again with a clear purpose.

"Let's not keep Krystof waiting."

He swept around the house and into the kitchen, surprising three vampires who looked like they'd been caught on a blood run to the refrigerator. They stared at him in shock, only belatedly putting up a weak resistance. Raj brushed them away with a bare wisp of his power, slamming them against the walls and cabinets, draining their power and leaving them lying on the floor in a stupor. This was the price Krystof paid for choosing only the weak and stupid for his minions. Barely slowed by the encounter, Raj strode deeper into the house and down the stairs.

The basement was pandemonium. Warned by his approach through the kitchen, several of Krystof's brutish defenders rushed to the foot of the stairs, full of bristling intent and raging testosterone, but there was no organization to their assault. They seemed directionless, like pinballs in a machine, bouncing back and forth, not knowing whether to charge the intruder or retreat to defend their master's inner sanctum. Between them, Cervantes and Yossi handled the initial assault, and Raj easily overpowered the rest. He stood on the lower step and surveyed the wreckage, wondering once again at the vampire lord's meager resistance. And where was Jozef?

He shook his head. These things no longer mattered. The challenge had been well and truly rung now, and there was no going back. He crossed the room quickly and slammed the door open without ceremony. Krystof was hunched on his elaborate settee, his face buried in the bloodied neck of a young woman. He reared back at Raj's abrupt entry, mouth open in a furious snarl, fangs dripping blood down the lacy, white linen of his shirt. Raj barely registered the vampire lord's anger, his eyes filled instead with the sight of the woman's long, blond hair, her graceful, bare legs hanging limply to the floor, one white arm reaching out, her hand open in entreaty.

He roared, taking the room in two hard strides and tearing the woman from Krystof's grasp. Her hair fell away and he stared at an unfamiliar face. Relief surged through him that this wasn't Sarah lying dead in his arms, followed by guilt that he could find any relief in this woman's senseless death. He lifted his gaze and found the vampire lord who had killed her standing before him, his mouth open in a disgusting parody of laughter.

"You think to unseat me, Rajmund?” he taunted scornfully. His eyes shone like twin flames against his blackened soul as he gave his power free rein, letting it swell until the house groaned with the pressure, furniture flying against the walls and shattering into pieces as if a hurricane had risen fully formed in the center of the small room. But even that wasn't enough. A surge of almost electric power jolted the room as Krystof reached out to his minions, ripping their defenses away and sucking them dry, stealing what strength they had and weaving it into a seemingly impenetrable cocoon of protection for himself.

"You're nothing but a wharf rat,” he snarled at Raj. “I was born to rule centuries before you were born, and I will rule for centuries after you've blown away in the wind along with your pitiful collection of
children
.” He sneered the last word, flinging it into Raj's face like a gob of spittle.

Raj flexed his will, massing his own power with a sure, smooth elegance. It grew like the first wave of a great storm, raging higher, denser, drawing strength from that impossible place within himself, that reservoir of vampiric power that made the difference between a minion and a lord. He reached out and was aware of Cervantes and Yossi standing untouched just outside the office door, of Emelie on the street above channeling the power of every one of his vampires, both here and in far away Manhattan. She gathered even the meager life force of his human guards, sheltering them all even as she offered a lifeline of power for him to draw upon in need.

He knew his eyes had begun to burn with their cold, blue fire, and he smiled, seeing comprehension dawn on his Sire's face. “Talk is cheap,
my lord.
"

Krystof struck without warning, cracking the defensive cocoon of his power to launch a battering ram of pure energy across the small room. Raj grunted as it hit him, feeling his own strength dip beneath the lethal attack, giving way without breaking, flowing around Krystof's spear of power, consuming it, absorbing it into himself so that it left him stronger than before, not weaker. The vampire lord's eyes widened in shock and he strove viciously to pull back, straining to break free of Raj's might before he found himself sucked as dry as his own minions.

Raj reached out a hand and sliced downward, as if brushing away a clinging bit of flotsam. He felt a jolt of energy as his power closed around him once again, and he saw Krystof reel backwards, staggering slightly against the rubble that had once been his desk. But the old man wasn't finished. He was a vampire lord, not some overreaching slave who could be dismissed with a quick flex of power. He stood straight, arms outstretched, hands fisted as if gathering lightening from the very air. He thundered his challenge, rattling the walls and slamming a solid wall of energy across the room, crashing into Raj like tons of unforgiving stone, driving him back, forcing him to his knees. Raj howled in defiance, furious at his stupidity, his towering pride. He'd been so supremely certain of his own superiority, so swaggering in his arrogance. While he was laughing at the old man's efforts, Krystof had seized the initiative and was battering him with volley after volley of lethal force. He felt himself weakening beneath the unrelenting attack, while Krystof grew stronger, draining more and more of his minions, reaching to the ends of his territory, his very ruthlessness his greatest advantage.