The door opened.
Miranda lowered the phone, hitting the END CALL button with her thumb. “Can I help you?”
The woman standing outside was skinny and blond, with blue eyes that were at once icy and aflame.
She wasn’t alone.
“Samuel,” Miranda said. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t look at her, and neither did the other man—vampire—with the woman. A slow ripple of disquiet went through Miranda’s stomach.
She started to slam the door, but the woman caught it and forced it back, shoving Miranda hard into the room. Miranda grabbed the edge of the couch to keep from falling over, her phone tumbling from her hand to the floor.
“You must be Miranda Grey,” the woman said, tipping her head to one side, her smile only partly sane. Her voice was as high as a child’s, almost singsong.
Miranda stood up straight and crossed her arms. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ariana Blackthorn,” she replied.
“That’s impossible. Ariana Blackthorn was beheaded.”
The smile took on a nasty edge. “Nonsense, child. No one can kill me. I am the rightful Queen of this territory. A bow is appropriate.”
“I don’t see a Signet.” Miranda risked a glance around the room—there was nothing she could use as a weapon except for David’s knife in her purse. Even that wouldn’t do her much good unless she could saw through Ariana’s neck.
They’ll send help. Just buy some time.
“No matter,” Ariana said. “I’ll have it as soon as I snatch it from your Prime’s cold corpse.”
“And how are you planning to do that?”
She snorted. “Do I look stupid to you?”
Miranda shrugged. “Mostly just crazy. And kind of ugly, actually. I’d recommend Paul Mitchell hair care and maybe a sandwich.”
“Dear girl,” Ariana said, “You really are quite something. If you had ever been one of us instead of a mere insect, you might have been a force to be reckoned with. But you won’t get that chance, I’m afraid.”
“Let me guess. You’re going to kill me.”
“First you,” she confirmed with a nod. “Then your murdering, meat-fucking bastard of a Prime. But not until I have enough forces to take over the city. All of my allies are converging as we speak. I admit your darling did deal us quite a blow. His little network has been annoying to me. That will be the first thing I tear down once we have taken the Haven.”
“How did you get out of the Haven?” Miranda asked. “They had you under guard.”
“You ask that as if I were ever truly a prisoner. My boys here had it all under control.”
Miranda looked at Samuel. “You betrayed the Prime,” she said. “All this time he trusted you, and you’ve been working for her?”
Samuel spoke almost woodenly. “I am loyal to my rightful leader.”
“What’s this right you keep babbling about?” Miranda wanted to know. “You were never chosen Queen. Auren died and his Signet passed to someone else. That’s how it works.”
“No,” Ariana snarled, coming closer. Miranda held her ground even when the woman was right in her face. “That isn’t how it works. Not for me. I was his beloved, his perfect match. I would have been chosen if my sister hadn’t come along and gotten in the way—she thought she could take him from me.”
“Auren dumped you for your sister? That’s a real shame, a catch like you.”
“It’s all right. Everything worked out. I got him back, and then I got her to trust me. I’m a patient woman. I was biding my time to feed her to the wolves. We made a plan to switch places, and she would escape while I was taken to the Haven. She was a faster runner and better fighter—she thought she could elude that little bitch of a Second and I would be safer as a fake captive. Now she’s out of my way, and when the others arrive, I’ll be the one to take the Signet.”
“When is that supposed to happen?” Miranda asked.
Ariana’s smile returned. “No more monologuing,” she said. “I’m a better villain than that. Boys, take her. We have work to do here.”
They came at her, but she was ready—she didn’t give them time to get the upper hand, but threw herself at Samuel, lashing out with both her power and her right hook. He lurched sideways with a grunt of pain, and she swiveled around to land a kick in the other vampire’s gut.
She heard Ariana scream something at them but didn’t stop to chat; she threw the front door open and ran.
Miranda’s bare feet slapped the pavement painfully, but she couldn’t think about it, couldn’t think about anything but putting as much distance between her and them as possible. She had to find someplace safe and find a way to warn David. If Samuel could get Ariana out of the Haven, he could get her back in, and if no one told the Prime, Samuel could walk right back to his post without anyone ever doubting him.
She angled left, heading straight for downtown where there would be more witnesses. Her senses were on high alert, and she could feel the others pursuing her, their rage a black cloud closing in quickly, too quickly. There was no way she could outrun them. She had to hide, and the best place was amid the teeming mortal life of South Congress.
Her lungs were full of needles, but she didn’t slow down until she was almost at the bridge. Cars passed, their headlights blazing over her, and she nearly mowed down a lone pedestrian as she ran out onto the bridge where, at dusk, millions of Mexican free-tailed bats launched themselves into the sky. Tourists loved to come stand on the bridge and watch them during the summer. Far below, Lady Bird Lake was a black smudge rippled with the reflected lights of the capital city.
She heard their footsteps seconds before she felt hands close around her shoulders. She tried to fight them off, but the element of surprise was gone—they knew she was no weakling, now. Samuel seized her arms and pinned them back, though she struggled wildly, and the other vampire stood between them and the lanes where cars zipped by, oblivious.
Ariana walked up to them, as cool and fresh as if she’d just stepped out of a salon. “Well, that was fun,” she said, laughing gaily. The noise was almost lost to the traffic. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? Such a waste.”
“I’m going to kill you!” Miranda was still fighting. “I’ll take your head myself!”
Ariana giggled. “Isn’t she cute?”
“Should we take her back and burn her?” Samuel asked.
“No,” Ariana said. “I want there to be a body. I want him to find her, to see her dead and feel her lifeless and cold in his arms. I want him to know what he took from me. Then on the full moon he can lose everything else.”
Ariana held out her hand, and the other vampire placed a dagger into it. The steel blade flashed in the streetlights.
Miranda started to speak again, but Ariana pulled back her arm, and suddenly Miranda’s entire chest felt crushed with agony—she gasped, then choked, looking down to see the hilt of the dagger protruding obscenely from her rib cage.
Her limbs went numb, and she sagged in Samuel’s grasp, feeling her blood begin to flow down her chest, her heart shuddering. The pain was beyond screaming, beyond anything, but she could only make a strangled sound and stare at the dark pool gathering at her feet.
Ariana nodded to Samuel.
As Miranda’s vision went from blue to gray, and then to black, she felt her body being hauled up over the rail, and tossed, useless as a bag of trash, off the bridge and into the darkness of the lake.
She never felt the impact.
The Haven was in chaos.
“I want a full patrol team on apartment two twenty-one at Cypress Grove,” Faith ordered into her com. “Make sure Miss Grey is secure before anything else happens. Lindsay, don’t you move a muscle. Do you copy?”
She met David at the now-empty guest suite in time to hear him yell a string of obscenities and burst back out of the room, gesturing to the gathered lieutenants to follow.
“What’s the patrol team’s
ETA?” he demanded.
“Eleven minutes,” Faith replied. “Where are Bethany’s guards?”
“Unconscious in the room. She’s smart—she knew killing them would interrupt their com signals. She can’t possibly know about the fail-safe, but she knows I know if someone dies. God fucking damn it.” He shot Faith a look. “And if you say, ‘I told you so,’ I’ll stake you right here and now.”
“Wasn’t planning on it, Sire. What now?”
“I run a network trace and see if we can find her. Meanwhile—” He turned, midstride, to the lieutenants and walked backward. “Double patrols through the metropolitan area. Send the word out through the entire territory that she’s on the run and likely going to ground with the survivors of her gang. If you see so much as two vampires in one place, I don’t care if they’re playing Twister, you bring them in.”
He dismissed the others and took Faith with him down the stairs to the server room. “What’s that in your hand?” he asked Faith as he took his chair.
“Auren’s journal,” she said, handing it to him. “That’s how I knew something was wrong. Look at the pictures in the back.”
When he saw what she’d seen, his face lost all expression and he went pale. “God.”
He dropped the book on the table and went back to the computer, bringing up the citywide sensor grid. With his free hand, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Faith. “Keep trying Miranda,” he said. “I want to know she’s safe.”
Faith called, but there was no answer, only the ghostly sound of Miranda’s voice mail greeting. “Nothing.” She hit her com again. “Elite Eighty-Six. Lindsay, has the backup team arrived yet?”
No answer.
“Fuck—Sire, can you access Lindsay’s com from here?”
“Of course.” He clicked on something and brought up another grid, this one showing the locations of every com. She saw four dots representing the backup team closing in on Miranda’s apartment complex, and there in its usual spot was Elite 86’s signal.
“She hasn’t moved,” David noted. “But she’s not answering—she could be unconscious like the others. Elite Fifty-Seven, what’s your status?”
“We’re having trouble getting to the building, Sire. There’s something going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are fire trucks and ambulances everywhere. They pulled in just as we reached the street. I sent Elite Twenty in for a closer look, but there’s so much smoke that it’s making visual confirmation impossible.”
David met Faith’s eyes, and she saw what he was thinking. Her own insides went to ice.
He reached out with one hand and switched windows to the sensor grid. Every life form with a lower body temperature than a human’s and a body mass over a certain size registered on the network.
He overlaid the two grids.
There were three vampires leaving the location of Miranda’s apartment as four more approached it from the opposite direction. The approaching four were Elite. The other three were not.
“Oh my God, she’s there,” Faith gasped.
But when she looked up, he was gone.
David reappeared across the street from the apartment complex, and as soon as he could hear again, the cacophony was deafening. Sirens, radio chatter, and people shouting surrounded him, and the acrid smell of burning assailed him.
There were two enormous fire trucks blocking the street, and police cars lining the block to hold back the crowds.
The air was thick with smoke.
David ran across the street, pushing past the bright yellow barrier and ignoring the officer who tried to call him back. He snaked in between the fire trucks and emerged on the other side, where a blast of heat knocked him back.
It was like staring into hell. The building was an inferno, and several of the others in the complex had already gone up as well.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the charring white eaves of the building. Just beneath the roof, painted in dark red that was blackening in the smoke, was the Seal of Auren.
The energy expense of moving himself through such a great distance caught up with him as the shock did, and he felt his knees impacting with the concrete. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the flames licking out of Miranda’s windows—his mind’s eye showed him her furniture cracking and paint blistering, her prized keyboard’s casing melting in the heat.
And all the while, he could hear the past: Lizzie screaming as the bonfire rose up to consume her lily-white skin.
“Sire?”
He didn’t look away from the fire at the patrol leader who had found him.
“Sire, we found Elite Eighty-Six—she was still alive when we got to her, but . . .”
“What else?” he asked. “What have they found?”
“We don’t know. It happened so fast—they’re certain it was arson. They found gas cans in the parking lot. They rescued a few of the residents, but at least half are unaccounted for.”
“And Miss Grey?”
“I don’t know, Sire. All I know is . . .”
“What?”
“Lindsay . . . when we found her, she was saying ‘I failed, I’m sorry’ over and over again. When I asked her what happened, all she said was . . . was . . . ‘She’s gone.’ ”
“No,” he said. “She must have been out. She couldn’t have been in there. Find her. Now.”
He tried to think, tried to come up with another explanation. She had been at the club tonight, and he was supposed to meet her at midnight . . . she would have been home, waiting for him, when they came for her. She might even have opened the door thinking he was behind it.
There was no way she could have escaped. A small human woman couldn’t stand up to three vampires, not without months of fight training and a miracle. She had been strong, but not that strong, not yet.
No. No . . . no.
Desperate, he sought out with his power, trying to find the connection they’d had only days ago. He’d let it fade so that she could go back to normal for a little while longer, thinking it was the right thing to do, that she should have more time to think. But she had already known what she wanted. He was the one who was afraid. And now . . .
He searched for her with his mind, but when he found what was left of the link and tried to follow it, he met only cold darkness where her loving warmth should be. Even after a week there should have been a faint trace of it left.
He didn’t know how long he knelt there, staring at the fire, before a voice said, “Excuse me, sir, but I’ve been asked to show you this.”
David rose, absently dusting off his knees and straightening his coat, and faced the paramedic. The young woman was sweaty and dirty, and he could see that she was a seasoned professional who wouldn’t let herself feel the loss of life until after she had saved as many as she could.
He nodded, and she led him around the fire truck, past several humans in various degrees of jeopardy with other EMTs fixing oxygen masks on their faces. Nearby, there were already three bodies covered in sheets, awaiting transport to the morgue.
The Elite patrol leader he’d spoken to before was standing at the edge of the triage area. He was staring down at something.
David had never wanted to run away from anything so badly in his life.
He forced himself to walk up to the man’s side, stand between him and the EMT, and look down.
He was expecting a body. What he saw was a guitar.
“The fire started in unit two twenty-one,” the EMT was saying. “One of the first responders tripped over this and ended up dragging it out with him. The strings got wrapped around his foot. As I understand it, you know the resident here?”
David stared at the remains of the beautiful instrument. There was little more than a scrap of neck and string left, the body so charred it had fallen apart.
He remembered the first time he’d seen her play, that night at the club, when he had no idea how she would throw his world into such welcome turmoil.
Then, that night at the Haven, when he’d watched her from the door, his heart so full of love for her that only a liter of Jack could silence it. He saw her slender hands dancing over the strings, the way they had danced over his skin, and her soft mouth forming words, that same mouth that had closed over his.
She was gone. He couldn’t feel her anymore. Ariana had gotten to her before the Elite could reach her. He’d been too late to save her. Jonathan’s vision had come true, and he had been too blind to heed the warning.
She was gone.
He responded numbly to the EMT’s questions, and when she finally left, he turned to the Elite.
“You will stay here until we have a body,” he informed the patrol leader. “Have Lindsay’s body sent back for a memorial and comb the area for any further evidence. I want this Blackthorn bitch brought to me.” He looked back up at the smoking remains of the apartment building, where everything that mattered had gone to ash. “I’m going home.”
Faith was waiting outside the front doors of the Haven when the car pulled up. She’d been standing there for nearly half an hour.
She’d tried to contact him over the coms, but he wasn’t answering; the patrol unit at the scene had no news, only that the building was a total loss and no body had been found. But if anyone would know, David would know. The connection between him and Miranda would surely still be active, and even if it wasn’t he was strong enough to find its echo.
She had to be alive. There was simply no other possibility. After everything that had happened, everything Miranda had been through, it couldn’t end so suddenly. They would find her, and she would be fine, and she would come home.
Harlan got out and held open the car door, and after a moment, David emerged, his face smudged with soot.
When she saw the expression on his face, Faith shook her head violently.
“No,” she charged up to him, standing in front of him, fighting the urge to shake him. “Tell me you found her, Sire. Tell me she’s okay.”
In the decades she’d known him she had seen him angry, seen him hate; she had seen him mourn. But she had never seen what she saw in his eyes at that moment . . . complete desolation.
Queen of Shadows Page 32
