As soon as it was up—as if that would keep Maximus from overhearing us—Sandra grinned at me. “Leila,” she said in an admiring voice, “you must tell us everything!”
I was getting drunk. Rip-roaring, stinking, worshipping-at-the-porcelain-altar drunk. Damn Maximus for his big mouth, and damn Vlad for his incomprehensible arrogance.
“It’s not like that,” I muttered, looking out the window rather than at the seven sets of eyes fixed on me. “Nothing’s happened between us.”
Sandra let out a knowing laugh. “But Vlad must intend for something to happen to make it known that you’re his.”
Not without me agreeing to it, I thought grimly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ben shake his head. “I should’ve known something was up when Vlad came himself after you fainted. If any of us gets sick or injured, we get sent a doctor, but we don’t see him.”
Several murmurs of agreement. I still said nothing, but I filed that away for potential mulling later.
“Tell me about this club,” I said, changing the subject.
From their description, even on a winter week night it would be busy since it was the only one in a town of about three thousand. We arrived in thirty minutes. I was by the door, so I got out first, looking around.
FANE’S was on the front of the two-story, wood and stone building. A long stone chimney puffed smoke into the clear night. The other buildings on this street looked closed, but across the street, some of them had their lights on. I liked how the streetlights resembled iron lanterns on tall poles. It added to the aged feel of the town.
Maximus got out of the limo but stayed close to me. “What, are you my babysitter tonight?” I grumbled.
He shrugged. “Call it what you like.”
Wait until I saw Vlad. This sort of crap might have worked in the fifteenth century, but it would backfire on him now.
“Do me a favor,” I said, not bitching at Maximus only because I still felt guilty over yesterday. “Stay far enough away so I don’t look like I’ve got a Viking-sized backpack?”
Maximus smiled slightly and held open the door. “I’ll try.”
I went in, surprised to see that on the inside, Fane’s didn’t look very different from the bars back in Gibsonton. A smattering of tables took up the space leading to the long, curving bar, with a fireplace adding to the restaurantlike atmosphere. Sandra first took me to the coatroom, where all of us unloaded our heavy outerwear. Then I followed her to the bar and took the seat she kindly saved for me.
“What will you have to drink?” she asked.
Red wine was normally my drink of choice, but tonight, I wanted something harder.
“Vodka and cranberry juice, if they have it. If not, vodka and whatever they have to mix it in.”
She grinned. “Oslow!” she called out. The bartender turned. “O vodka si un suc de coacaze in contul voivode.”
The only word I recognized out of that last sentence was voivode. Prince. “What did you say?”
“I ordered your drink and told him to put it on the prince’s tab.”
“Does everyone know who Vlad is?” I asked in surprise.
Sandra ran a hand through her golden-red hair before answering. “In this town, many know, but few speak of it, and never to outsiders. Romanians revere the heroes of their history and they know how to keep secrets.”
Then she slanted a glance at me. “As the object of the prince’s desire, many would consider you a very lucky woman.”
“It’s the ‘object’ part I have the biggest problem with,” I muttered, picking up my drink as soon as it was set in front of me. “And I’m going to need a lot more of these before I feel anything close to lucky.”
Six vodka cranberries later, I allowed Sandra to talk me into going to the second floor where the dance area was. Sandra, Ben, and the others seemed to get a kick out of forming a protective circle around me. I kept my right hand glued to my hip and danced like I didn’t have a care in the world. I might not understand the lyrics, but a good beat needed no translation.
A few more drinks later, I’d decided that tonight was the best night I’d had in years when a crashing noise sounded above the blaring music. The floor shuddered, too, making me look around in confusion. Did Romania get earthquakes? I wasn’t the only one peering about, but then I heard Maximus’s roar.
“Hunter, get her out of here!”
That was when I smelled the smoke. Another tremendous boom shook the dance floor, and people began to scream.
“Fire!” Sandra shouted, in case the smoke and panic hadn’t clued me in.
My circle of friends disintegrated as the crowd scrambled en masse toward the staircase. I tried to keep my right hand from touching anyone, but the crush became too tight. The person next to me dropped to the floor when she was shoved into me. Grayish images of shoplifting filled my mind, and when I blinked back into reality, I didn’t see her anymore. The rough jostling had propelled me away. I tried to find her, afraid she’d get trampled.
I tucked my right hand into my armpit to prevent any more accidental contact and fought my way through the crowd, heading away from the staircase. I couldn’t risk trying to get out with so many people around me. I might kill someone, if I hadn’t already. Maybe Maximus or Hunter could help me with the woman I’d electrocuted. Where were they?
I finally made my way to the balcony. Something blurry caught my gaze below, and another crash shook the rapidly emptying dance floor. That blur became a flash of blond and brawn—Maximus, shaking debris off him as he advanced toward three people who weren’t moving even though dozens in the crowd surged against them.
When I saw the distinct flash of silver in the strangers’ grips, I understood. This wasn’t an accident. It was an attack.
Something hard closed around my arm, whirling me around. I had a second to recognize Hunter the limo driver before he threw me over his shoulder and headed not for the staircase, but the window across the room.
“Wait!” I said, pounding on his back. “Grab the woman, too. She’s somewhere on the floor, and she’s hurt!”
He didn’t stop. “You’re important. She’s not.”
“Asshole!” I spat, pounding harder. “Turn around now—”
Glass shards tore the back of my legs as another boom sounded, only this one wasn’t below us. It was in front of us.
“Ah, there she is,” an unfamiliar voice stated.
Hunter stilled, and I craned to see around him, but his grip on me was too tight.
“Vlad will kill you,” he hissed at whoever had smashed through the window.
“Not if we kill him first,” the other man replied without concern, and then I was dumped on the floor, my head banging painfully against the hard wood.
Even though stars went off in my vision, I had enough sense to scramble back. The smoke was getting thicker, making me cough as I blinked to clear my gaze. The first thing I saw was Hunter and a young man with prematurely silver hair locked in a death match that lasted only long enough for me to grab the balcony rail and pull myself to my feet. Then Hunter fell back, a knife protruding from his chest, his features starting to shrivel before my shocked gaze. The silver-haired vampire looked up from him to smile at me.
“Frankie, isn’t it?” he asked pleasantly.
My first instinct was to turn and run, but I didn’t. The fact that he hadn’t grabbed me yet meant he wanted to toy with me. Great, a murdering sadist, as if I hadn’t met enough of those lately. I glanced to my right and then back at him.
“Yeah, I’m Frankie,” I breathed. “Nice to meet you.” And then I vaulted over the balcony rail.
My gamble paid off because he clearly hadn’t been expecting that. I landed on one of the few patrons who hadn’t run out of the club yet, rolling as soon as I felt warm flesh. That lessened the impact, but the person still screamed and then limped toward the exit, coughing at the increasing smoke.
I didn’t get more than a step in that direction be
fore a thud sounded behind me and rough hands seized me.
“Ooh, you do give off quite a charge, don’t you?” Silver Hair commented.
With his grip, I couldn’t raise my right hand to zap him properly, and time was running out. Flames crawled up the club’s walls as if they had their own agenda. Multiple crashing noises indicated that Maximus was still fighting, but the screams had died down. Almost everyone seemed to have made it out of the club. Music continued to blare, making it hard for me to hear what Maximus and the other vampires were saying, but I caught “Frankie” a few times and knew, with a sinking feeling, that I was the reason behind this attack.
Silver Hair glanced behind me and sighed. “Looks like they need help killing him,” he said in mock annoyance. “Stay here.”
His foot shot out with brutal efficiency. Two kicks later, and I fell to the ground, tears streaming from my eyes. My calves bent at awkward angles, broken so badly that bone protruded from the skin. Silver Hair smiled and then walked toward Maximus, who had his back to him as he fought the three other vampires. Almost leisurely, Silver Hair pulled out his knife.
Hunter had been slaughtered trying to protect me. Now Maximus was about to die. I dragged myself toward them, crying out at the white-hot pain of my broken legs scraping across the floor, but not stopping.
Silver Hair must have heard my cry, but he didn’t turn around. He had no fear of me stopping him, and that made my fury grow. Fear for Maximus, hatred of Silver Hair, and ever-increasing agony made my right hand do something it had never done before: It began to form a visible sliver of electricity, like a tiny lightning bolt. I looked at it, at Silver Hair—who had almost reached Maximus—and then crawled faster. More blinding pain shot through me, but that sliver increased, growing longer and thicker.
Silver Hair’s companions saw him behind Maximus and doubled their attack. Maximus fell back, not knowing he put himself closer to Silver Hair. I crawled faster, almost delirious from the pain, but through my tears and the smoke, I saw Silver Hair raise his knife. Now my cry was one of pure despair. I wasn’t going to make it. I was still a dozen feet away—
A blast of white shot from my hand, quick as a thunderbolt and long as a whip. It cracked across Silver Hair’s back, ripping his shirt and making his whole body glow for a split second. He fell to his knees, the knife fusing to his hand as the electrical currents melded his flesh around it. Maximus didn’t glance away at the distraction, but one of his enemies did, and with a savage swipe, Maximus’s knife cleaved through the vampire’s neck. He dropped over, headless.
Silver Hair turned around and glared at me. I recognized that look—I’d seen it on many faces right before someone got killed. I tried to summon another whiplike bolt from my hand, but I felt more drained than I ever had before. I started to crawl away only because I didn’t want to die without trying, but I wasn’t surprised to be hauled up moments later.
“Bitch,” Silver Hair snarled, lifting me until our faces were level. “Now you’ll stay put.”
Then he flung me backward so hard that the last thing I felt was a wall breaking behind me.
Chapter 20
The pain must’ve caused me to pass out, because when I opened my eyes, it looked like I was under a blanket, but that was impossible. I was still somewhere in the burning club, wasn’t I?
I pushed the blanket off me, and smoke immediately had me coughing so hard, my throat felt stripped. Yep, still in the club, and I hadn’t been covered by a blanket, but a coat. Several of them were around me, some still on hooks, some fallen from where my impact had knocked them loose. Silver Hair had flung me right through the wall into the coatroom.
I tried to crawl away—and screamed. Pieces of the wall had collapsed on my broken legs, pinning them. The hole I’d made was too far up for me to peer through to see if Maximus was still out there. And the walls around me were getting hot while the smoke continued to make breathing an effort.
Amidst the searing pain and coughing, I had a moment of clarity. I couldn’t get out myself, so unless someone came to get me, I was dead. If I was lucky, the smoke would kill me first. If I wasn’t, well . . . the pain in my legs would be bliss compared to what burning to death felt like.
“Maximus!” I shouted, hoping he’d managed to defeat Silver Hair and the other vampires. “Maximus, I’m here!”
Nothing but the still-blaring music and ominous breaking sounds that probably indicated the club was starting to fall apart. I coughed more, feeling light-headed. What had the fireman whose near-death experience I’d relived done to save himself? He’d covered up, for starters.
I grabbed every coat I could and piled them on top of me. The heat was unbearable, but they’d provide a barrier against the flames. Then I took one of the thinner coats and wrapped it around my mouth, trying to use it as a filter against the smoke.
“Maximus!” I screamed again. “Maximus, where are you?”
Still no response. Panic rose but I pushed it back. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that panicking never helped anyone. Okay, either Maximus couldn’t hear me above the music and crumbling structure, or he was dead. I’d have to try something else.
I got as low as I could, keeping the blankets over me and trying to think past the dizziness and searing pain that radiated all through me. If only I had something of Vlad’s, then I could link to him for help. Even if he wasn’t near enough to come himself, he could tell someone where I was. But I didn’t, and I hadn’t seen him today.
Maybe desperation gave me the crazy idea, maybe it was the growing lack of oxygen to my brain, but I stuck my right hand under the coat and began to rub my lips. Please, oh, please, let Vlad have felt something when he touched them yesterday! If that near-kiss hadn’t meant anything to him, then I was a dead woman. But if he’d felt a strong enough emotion, I might be able to find a hint of his essence that I could follow back to him—
The cloak room vanished, replaced by Vlad encased in an indigo background that took me a moment to realize was the night sky. Relief made me want to weep, but before I could say anything, his voice cut across my mind.
“Leila, where are you?”
I didn’t answer out loud because I was coughing too much.
In the coatroom at the club.
“Get out,” he said tightly. “You must know it’s on fire.”
Do you think that escaped my notice? I asked in disbelief. My legs are broken and part of the wall is pinning me.
His eyes closed. When they opened, they were bright green.
“I’m only minutes away. Cover yourself with whatever is near and stay as close to the floor as you can.”
A coughing fit kept me from responding because it took all of my concentration to breathe. I wasn’t sure if the roaring in my ears was the flames eating through the walls or an indication that I was about to pass out.
Already done, I managed before my mind started to wander even more. Part of me knew that was a very bad sign, but the rest of me didn’t care.
“Leila,” Vlad said sharply. “Do not pass out.”
So arrogant, I thought. As if you can order someone to stay conscious. Bit by bit, my coughing lessened, as did the agony in my legs. The relief from the pain was overwhelming in more ways than one. If I couldn’t feel my legs, maybe I wouldn’t feel the fire.
“You won’t burn.” Even amidst my drifting away, I caught the vehemence in his voice. “I will make it in time.”
I didn’t respond. Vlad said something else, but it was lost in the beautiful roar all around me. If I concentrated on it, I felt like I could fly. I focused on that, and soon everything began to fade away. I was lighter, floating, free . . .
Pain dragged me back into consciousness with pitiless abruptness. I wasn’t on the floor anymore, but wrapped inside a hard embrace as Vlad picked me up. Red and orange flames were all around us, their heat blistering, but then the flames extinguished and a path cleared as if by magic. Vlad strode through it and soon the choking smoke
vanished, replaced by flashing lights and soot-streaked people. He bit his wrist, and then something warm and wet pressed against my mouth.
“Drink,” he ordered.
His dark hair curtained everything else from view as he kept his face close to mine, making sure I swallowed in between fits of coughing. Pain erupted in my legs before fading into a dull ache and then finally an odd itching. My coughing lessened, too, though I still couldn’t seem to draw enough air into my lungs. Finally Vlad removed his wrist, and my head fell back against the cradle of his arm.
“You made it,” I said weakly.
His smile was brief—and fierce. “I told you I would.”
Vlad flew me back to the house, but instead of stopping at the second floor, he strode up to the fourth and deposited me in a stunningly gothic room with a high, triangular ceiling. With its size and grandeur, I would’ve thought it was his room, but the bed didn’t have those distinctive midnight-green drapes.
“What’s wrong with the other room?” I asked, still feeling dizzy and worn out even though his blood had healed my injuries.
He pulled my boots off, tossing them to the floor before he whisked back the covers and set me on the bed.
“Someone wanted you badly enough to attack on my territory. It’s been a hundred years since anyone dared such a thing, so you’ll stay close to me until I find them.”
I closed my eyes, guilt and anger swarming me. “Maximus?”
“I saw him, he’s alive,” Vlad said, to my vast relief.
He settled the blankets over me. I normally hated anyone treating me like I was helpless—I’d had enough of that when I’d been helpless right after the accident—but now, I didn’t mind. Having the most dangerous vampire in the world look after me somehow made me feel safe, and after nearly burning to death, I wanted to hold on to that feeling a little longer.
“How did you end up trapped in the cloakroom?” Vlad asked almost casually. “Maximus was supposed to protect you.”
Once Burned Page 12
