Sire (27 page)

The wolves had Caitlin surrounded, and were slowly closing in on her. They snapped at her every time she moved.

They were teasing her, drawing it out. Savoring her fear.

That wasn't right.

Evan was supposed to bring Caitlin to Angelica. And how could he do that if the wolves ate her?

"Leave her alone!" he shouted.

"Evan?" Caitlin said. She was almost in tears.

The wolves looked back at him, growled, and turned back toward Caitlin.

Evan reached into his pocket, looking for another sigil, but there was nothing there.

One of the wolves snapped at Caitlin. She lost her balance and fell. The wolves moved forward.

Evan grabbed a stick and drew a hasty symbol on the ground. He pressed his fingers into the earth, and a circle of fire erupted around Caitlin.

The wolves howled and jumped back. But they were unhurt, and the fire was only a couple of feet high. One of the wolves backed up, ran, and threw itself into the air, lunging for Caitlin's throat.

Evan slammed his other hand onto the sigil.

The clearing disappeared in a ball of fire.

Chapter Nineteen

Angelica was examining the car wreck. The page boy who had notified her was standing nearby.

On the bright side, it hadn't done a whole lot of structural damage to the gate, so the repairs probably wouldn't take long. On the down side, her wolves were gone, Evan was missing, and Michael's little bitch was still nowhere to be seen.

Angelica shook her head. "Get someone to tow this thing out of here," she said. "And call out a few more wolves. I want to know where they—"

An explosion thundered through the air. Angelica whirled, and saw a column of fire roaring up out of the woods.

She cocked her head to the side. "Why is my forest on fire?" she asked.

***

Caitlin's head was swimming. Where was she? What was going on? Why was she on the ground? Why were her ears ringing?

She rolled over. It seemed like every muscle was angry at her, and she moaned a bit, but pushed herself off the ground anyway. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she had to fight to keep standing.

Oh, God.

She was still in the clearing. And the wolves that had been chasing her ... there were four skeletons on the ground, and all of them were as black as coal. They weren't even smoking.

The fire hadn't touched the center of the clearing. The ground where she was standing wasn't even warm. But the dirt under the skeletons was shining in the moonlight. Caitlin knelt down and stretched out a careful hand. The ground was warm, smooth, hard, and brittle.

Glass. The fire had turned the dirt to glass.

The trees, too, had been burned. All of the branches that reached into the ring of fire had simply evaporated, leaving a perfectly circular hole straight up into the sky.

Caitlin heard a cough, and jerked her head around.

Evan knelt at the entrance to the clearing. He was on one knee, and had both hands on the ground, touching one of those symbols he used. Golden energy was still rippling around his hands. It looked like the symbol had been turned to glass, too.

Evan looked up at her. Blood was running from both nostrils. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Thank God. He had snapped out of whatever Angelica had done to him. "I'm fine. What about you?"

He wiped the blood from his face, then wiped his hand on his pants. "I think so." He looked around the clearing, at the skeletons. "I did this." He sounded dumbstruck, as if he couldn't believe that he had been able to summon that much power.

"You saved my life," Caitlin said.

He took a breath and nodded. "I didn't have a choice. They were going to kill you."

"I know. No one's going to blame you. Well, no one that doesn't already want us dead. Speaking of which, we should really get—"

"And I have to bring you to Angelica."

Caitlin's shoulders slumped. "Really?"

Then she turned to run.

Fire burst forth from the earth, stopping her in her tracks.

Evan walked through the fire like it wasn't even there. Caitlin slapped at him, but he caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back. She gasped and stood on her toes to relieve the pressure, but Evan yanked her hair, pulling her over backwards. She fell to the ground, and Evan drove his knee into her back.

The breath left her lungs in a burst. She tried to squirm, but she couldn't move.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She was trapped. Again.

***

Angelica entered the clearing, surveying the effects of the fire spell.

She'd given the boy too much of her blood, she decided. There was no way someone who had been practicing for a couple of weeks should have been able to call a spell that powerful. It was pure luck that he'd even been able to control it. Caitlin should have been a cinder.

Just like the wolves lying on the ground.

"It's going to be hard to hire muscle if this keeps happening," she said, and bit her lip. "I mean, the wolves aren't particularly bright, but we've been burning through a dozen of them a week." She snickered at the
burning
comment. "Ah well."

The boy had caught Caitlin. He had tied her hands behind her back with her own belt, and was holding her by her hair.

"Kinky," Angelica said.

She crossed the clearing and stood in front of them. The girl tried to twist out of the boy's grip, but he pulled up on her wrists and down on her hair, and she stopped fighting. It was always interesting to see how creative—and how mean—a compelled human could be. There was a viciousness inside of them that was just looking to be let loose.

"You did well," Angelica said.

The boy kept hold of the girl, but bowed his head. "Thanks."

"Jerk," the girl murmured.

"Oh, it's not his fault," Angelica said. "I asked him to bring you in, and I can be
very
hard to say no to. I just had to bat my lashes, and he was putty in my hands." She looked at up at the hole that had been punched through the trees. "Though some of this was ... improvisational."

"What do you want from me?" the girl asked.

Angelica gave her her most charming smile. "I thought we could have tea and cakes. And maybe talk about how you murdered my Scion."

The color drained from the girl's face. "That's right, I know all about it. I've known for some time, actually. Your friend here was very forthcoming. Not very powerful, though. He never would have been able to pull off that blood-and-water spell on his own. But vampire blood is good for more than healing."

The girl's face scrunched up. Angelica could practically hear the gears clanging together. Finally, the girl's expression went from
dumb
to
incredulous
. "You
wanted
Liam to die," she said.

"No," Angelica said. "I
needed
him to die." She shook her head. "He was starting to attract too much attention. It was only a matter of time until ..." Now it was Angelica's turn to scrunch up her face. "Wow, you almost got me to do the whole 'bad guy explains the plot' speech. I need to get a diary or something. Bottling all this up isn't good for me."

"Okay," the girl said, "so we did what you wanted. Or what you needed. Liam's dead. So what do you need from me?"

"I need to punish you for Liam's death, of course."

"Wait, what?" the girl asked.

"I have to punish you for Liam's death.
Someone
has to pay for the death of a vampire in my city."

"You're doing this because you're jealous that I'm with Michael."

"No, honey, I'm doing it because I hate your hair."

"Michael's going to come for me, you know."

Angelica smiled. "Oh, baby, I'm counting on it."

***

Michael roared up the driveway to Angelica's mansion. Evan's car was there, the front grill wrapped around one of the stone pillars that formed the gate. The back end was hooked up to a tow truck, and the driver was standing on the side, working the levers and trying to winch it free.

One of Angelica's werewolf guards walked forward, hand outstretched, indicating that Michael should stop.

Michael ran him over.

Then he jerked the wheel and stomped on the emergency brake, spinning the car around so that the driver's door was facing the mansion. The door was open and Michael was moving before the car had even come to a stop.

Another werewolf ran at Michael, a pair of blades clutched in his hands. He raised the knives high and howled, then brought the blades down toward Michael's head.

Michael's hand flashed through the air, and tore the werewolf's throat out.

He calmly dropped a hunk of flesh on the ground, then reached back into the car to retrieve the paired swords, which he hooked onto his belt.

The tow truck driver was staring at Michael. His mouth was moving, like he was trying to say something, but the part of his brain that made words happen was out of service.

Michael walked toward him, and the driver backed up, pressing himself against the truck.

Michael passed him by. He reached down and took hold of Evan's bumper. Metal and stone ground against each other as Michael lifted, pulling the car free. He dropped the car back on the ground with a crash.

"Um, thanks," the driver said.

Michael kicked the gate open and headed toward the mansion.

Chapter Twenty

Suddenly, floodlight burst to life, blinding Michael. He threw his arms in front of his eyes and turned away, back toward the gate.

By the time he had cleared the spots from his eyes, a pack of wolves had surged onto the lawn. They must have been expecting him.

The pack immediately split into three; some of them went right, some of them left, and the rest came at him head-on. They were flanking him, and trying to drive him back toward the stone wall surrounding the estate. It was good hunting strategy.

At least, it would have been, if they hadn't been hunting a vampire.

Michael reached the wall and leapt into the air. His talons extended and bit into the stone, and Michael held himself in place, fifteen feet above the ground.

One of the wolves jumped up, fangs bared, trying to pull him down. Michael let go with one hand and slashed at the creature, severing its head completely. He didn't even bother watching the body fall.

Instead, he kicked off the wall, propelling himself through the air over the wolves' heads. He landed between two of them, and ravaged them with his claws. As they fell, a third wolf jumped toward his back. Michael turned and slashed. His claws bit into the skin on the thing's left side, split the flesh across its midsection, and emerged on the right. The animal fell to the ground, gutted.

Two more of the monsters rushed at him, one from either side. Michael grabbed them out of the air, crushing their throats, and smashed them into each other. Their squeals were cut off by the sounds of their bones breaking.

One of the wolves, apparently the pack Alpha, turned back into his human form. "You're going to regret that," he said. The two remaining wolves moved next to him. The hair stood up on their backs, and the low rumble of their growling filled the air.

Michael glanced down. "Little chilly tonight?" he asked the man.

The man yelled and charged. Michael drew one of his daggers and threw it. The blade cut through the air almost as fast as a bullet, and lodged in the man's forehead. Momentum carried him forward, and he fell on his face. The impact drove the knife all the way through the back of his skull. Smoke rose from the exit wound.

The wolves moved toward Michael cautiously. One of them would step forward and snap at Michael, then retreat, and the other would follow suit. Their bodies rippled with tension and anger, but they had just seen their entire pack ripped to shreds, and were in no hurry to be next.

Michael drew a sword.

The wolves attacked simultaneously. One of them dove at Michael's feet, biting at his ankle. Michael kicked the animal, and it flew through the air. The second wolf jumped up, lunging for Michael's throat.

Michael slashed with his sword, severing the animal's front paw.

The wolf that Michael had kicked was struggling back to its feet. From the way it staggered, it was apparent that its ribs were broken. Michael got behind it, and the wolf tried to snap and claw, but Michael cut its throat.

The final wolf was lying on the ground, again in human form, clutching the stub of his arm. "You cut off my hand. Oh God, you cut off my hand," he was saying, over and over again.

Michael stabbed him through the back, silencing him.

He rolled the Alpha over and retrieved his dagger, then continued toward the mansion.

***

The doors to Angelica's throne room were directly in front of Michael. The bodies of another dozen or so werewolves, all of them sporting horrible injuries and a few of them missing limbs, lay on the ground behind him. They were going to have a hell of a time cleaning up the floor.

The doors were a testament to Angelica's ego. Sure, she played the naive co-ed role pretty well, but inside? Inside she was still old, rich, and full of herself. The doors were nearly twenty feet high, solid oak, and ornately carved. He'd never really noticed just how gaudy they were before.

He drove his foot into them as hard as he could. The wood ripped away from the walls with a satisfying crack and sailed down the throne room's center aisle. The air inside filled with plaster and dust.

Thunder rolled through the room when the doors crashed to the ground.

Michael strode through the swirling debris, a sword in each hand. The silver blades dripped blood and trailed smoke. He hoped that the entire thing created a vibrant image for anyone inside. He was prepared to fight every vampire in St. Troy if he had to, and he wanted them to know it.

Angelica was sitting on her throne, leaning casually against one corner, her legs draped over one of the arm rests. She was barefoot, and showing a mile and a half of leg. She looked at Michael with bedroom eyes. "Hello, lover. We've been waiting for you."

Caitlin was kneeling in front of her. Her eyes were huge, and tears ran down her cheeks. Michael could hear her heart beating from the doorway. But she didn't look hurt, just afraid. "Michael, I can't move," she said.