by E E Everly
Thandoran turns, but I grab his wrist. “It’s a gas fireplace. You’ll blow us up.”
My words make my stomach jump. The fire in the other room hasn’t hit the gas line, but once it does, we’re in trouble. I scramble into the burning room and let loose my storm. Rain bursts out of the clouds, and I blow the downpour around the room until every flame is extinguished.
By the time I’m done, I’m panting and soaked and feeling like a drowned kettlingur. I’ve used too much energy. Thandoran’s right, we’re out of time.
I hobble to the group and crumple to the floor beside Dumitru. “I’ll give him some of my blood.” I’m about to slice open my wrist, but Thandoran grabs it.
“No. You’re weak. I’m weak. We won’t be able to fight them off when they vamp out.”
“I’ll go downstairs and find a human,” Nat says. “Go. We’ll be fine. We’ll find you.”
“How do we get out, then?”
“Try blasting a hole through the adjoining dressing room. Hopefully there won’t be a gas line running through there.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Thandoran leaves me kneeling on the floor. I’m shaking. We need more ambrosia, but I don’t want to backtrack to our room.
A second later, the walls shake and groan. Thandoran comes in, brushing his palms together. “Piece of cake.”
“Will we be able to do this?” I ask.
Thandoran pulls me to my feet. Natalia moves to cradle Dumitru’s head. She bites into her wrist and sticks it into his mouth. She’ll revive him just enough with her own blood. Good idea.
“Go before he wakes and wants storm sprite,” she says. In our current states, none of us would be able to hold Dumitru off.
I coax a fizzling storm cloud along as Thandoran pulls me into the dressing room, past the clothes. A ragged, human-shaped hole in the back leads into the corridor. Thandoran and I step through and shuffle in the direction we know leads to Isac’s room.
“Thank you,” I grunt. Every step is tiring. “I know you don’t trust them, but thank you for helping me save them.”
Thandoran slips under my arm when I wobble to the side. “Just because it’s you, princess. For no other.”
I understand that he still doesn’t trust my vampire friends. That’s okay.
I poke him in the side, intending to make a joke, but I stop myself. The corridor is eerily quiet. My storm cloud is nothing but a wisp of mist trailing us, so there’s not even the howl of wind. “Where have the vampires gone?”
Our path is alarmingly clear. We’re nearly to the open gallery that looks down on the grand staircase. Isac’s room should be coming up on the right, and Kaelea’s room is on the other side of the gallery.
We move past a column blocking our view of the gallery. As I look across the open space, Ciprian’s voice reaches us. “Well, well, well. Quite the mess you’ve made.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Thandoran and I stagger backward to hide behind the column. My lungs feel tight.
My muscles cramp.
Anxiety wraps itself around me.
If this comes down to a fight, Thandoran and I are drained, and we will die.
“Come now. No use hiding. Come out, come out,” Ciprian bellows across the gallery.
I’m not used to this vigor he’s achieved by drinking my blood. His voice is commanding and sinister.
I shudder.
Hoping to lay eyes on him, I lean around the column. He’s in the corner, on the other side of the space. About ten feet from him, in front of an open bedchamber, is Isac.
With a young woman.
His arms are wrapped around her, supporting her, but he’s holding a knife to her huge belly.
I gasp, and my jaw drops open with surprise. Thandoran pushes past me, the cords of muscle in his arms and neck taut. “Kaelea!”
Her hair is strawberry blonde and pixie short. She doesn’t fight Isac but holds onto the railing in front of her with one hand. Her other hand braces her ballooning stomach.
“Isac, let her go!” Sparks jump around Thandoran, but I clamp my hand over his as a warning. One wrong move and Isac will flay her.
“Thandoran!” Kaelea leans forward slightly, but she’s secure in Isac’s grip. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Isac twitches. “I’ve been compelled. Come any closer and I gut her. I won’t be able to stop myself. Please. You have to be careful.” The hand with the knife shakes as he tries to pull it away, but he doesn’t have any luck.
Ciprian laughs. “It’s simple, Sasha. You and Kaelea go into her room. Isac puts the wards up. I want just you and Kaelea. Isac and Thandoran may go home.”
“They are not staying here to be abused by you!” Thandoran yells. He turns to me, and his voice drops to a whisper, which is ridiculous. Ciprian can still hear us. “You get Kaelea away from Isac, and I’ll take care of Ciprian.”
I nod and raise my voice. “All right, Ciprian. I’m going to move closer. To enter the room. Tell Isac not to hurt Kaelea.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Thandoran growls.
“That’s the only way for me to get close. We’ll be fine. I trust you.”
Ciprian gestures for Kaelea and Isac to back into the room. Isac does as he’s told. I start moving closer, around the left side of the gallery. Thandoran moves right, to the side with Ciprian.
It’s a long drop to the ground floor between us.
Thandoran holds his arms out as he steps closer to the head vampire. “You know, Ciprian, you always wanted to know what I taste like. Don’t you remember how enticing the scent of my blood is? Don’t you think I smell better than a storm sprite?”
Ciprian steps toward Thandoran. “I admit, I would like a taste.” He licks his lips. “But I have to think of the big picture. I can’t waste my time satiating my thirst when a drink of you would be over in minutes.”
“Oh, come on. Think of the vitality you get from storm sprite blood. Think what my blood could do.”
“What are you mixed with? How does your sister not have the same scent?”
“Kaelea is my half-sister,” Thandoran says. “We have different fathers.”
“Who might your father be?”
“You have to taste me to find out.”
“No, Thandoran!” I’m halfway down the short hall. If Ciprian vamps out and drinks Thandoran’s blood, I won’t get to him in time, not as a weak human. “Why are you encouraging him?”
Thandoran doesn’t look at me. He simply closes his eyes and takes a deep steadying breath. What’s he planning?
Shadows beyond him draw my eye. At least a dozen vamps creep past the columns. Some of them edge my way and the other half Thandoran’s way. We’re surrounded. I could jump over the railing and fly down the center of the grand staircase, but I won’t leave Thandoran.
And I can’t leave Kaelea unprotected. The wards are down. If she doesn’t die by Isac’s hand, the vamps will grab her.
Why didn’t Ciprian keep his tasty prisoners in a place with only humans? We really are too much temptation.
I curse my need for ambrosia. My body is so shaky it takes all I can to put one foot in front of the other.
Thandoran stops beside a picture frame and quirks his head. He’s about ten feet from Ciprian, who waits with an eager, hungry expression.
“Keep moving, Sasha,” he says. “You let lover boy and me work this out.”
“Don’t let him drink you, Thandoran!” I yell.
The vampires laugh. A pale-faced, dark-haired woman is three feet from me. I crackle sparks in my hand, ready to use them.
Thandoran slowly raises his fist and locks eyes with Ciprian. I’m so used to Thandoran’s firestorm that I think he’s about to snap a flame to life.
He doesn’t. He can’t.
Instead, he smashes his wrist into the glass with a crack of lightning.
Shards fly back into his face.
Glass pierces his arms and legs. His wrist streaks with blood. Stunned by th
e violent explosion, Thandoran stumbles into the railing.
“No!” I’m paralyzed with horror. The lady vamp uses the distraction to grab me. I feel the heat of her mouth and the pinch of her fangs. My chest heaves, bracing for the bite as my eyes round and Thandoran pitches in slow motion over the railing.
There’s so much blood.
What did he do?
His blood’s scent must be strong, but I can’t smell it anymore.
I’m so useless.
Ciprian lunges over the railing after Thandoran. His eyes are dark with bloodlust. Somehow I register Kaelea’s scream. The vampire holding me jerks her head up. Her nostrils flare. She smells Thandoran’s blood. She must, because she shoves me away and dives after Ciprian and Thandoran.
“No!” I pull myself up to the railing. “Thandoran! Thandoran!”
His bloody body lies on the ground floor in the space the stairs curve around. But he’s conscious. His eyes blink. Absolute horror contorts his face.
This was not his plan.
He must have meant to cut only his wrist, but his power snaked out in an explosion.
And then he fell.
Oh billowing banshees, no!
The remaining vampires, their faces pinched with hunger, jump over the railing and drop the three levels with ease.
They land around him and look to their sire, who kneels beside Thandoran.
Ciprian gives one nod and leans down for a drink. The vampires don’t hesitate. They bow over their meal.
They will drink him until he’s dead.
If he’s not dying from internal injuries from the fall.
Kaelea screams. Tears pour down her face as she leans over the railing. Isac is at her side, holding her up. Her legs wobble, and she clutches the railing like a lifeline. “Thandoran!”
Amidst her screams, a horrible shriek races up the stairwell.
Followed by another, and another.
Vampires stagger away from Thandoran, clutching their throats and mouths. They claw at their skin. A few of them vomit blood.
What in the world? As the vampires screech and back away from Thandoran, I catch his satisfied smirk infused with pain.
He wanted this. He wanted them to drink from him.
Ciprian rears up on his knees, writhing as blood streams from his mouth.
One of the vampires glows, and smoke rises from his open mouth and pours out his ears. Two more vampires glow and smoke. Ciprian looks up at the ceiling. His eyes are filled with light—light so bright I have to look away, light that’s as bright as the sun.
They are burning. Like in sunlight. From the inside out.
Kaelea wipes her face and stumbles my direction. Isac helps her. “Quickly,” he says. “We can get to him.”
“How’s this happening?” I don’t take my eyes from Ciprian. His face goes from glowing to red hot to gray, like a glowing ash-covered coal.
“His blood.” Kaelea reaches me. “His blood.” She can’t say more.
The vampires have stopped shrieking. They collapse against the walls as crispy corpses.
Ciprian is still oddly frozen on his knees, his face staring upward, melted in horror.
Isac yanks on me. “Come on, hurry!”
I shoulder away. “Go ahead.” He takes Kaelea to the stairs going down.
I jump over the railing. “Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.”
THIRTY-FIVE
My wings flare out and slow my descent. I land softly beside Thandoran, opposite Ciprian’s corpse. I push him away, and his body topples over.
Thandoran moans. He looks straight up. I’m not sure he can move. Blood seeps from several gashes at an alarming rate. Shards of glass protrude from his chest and arms.
“What did you do?” I fold my wings over him and hold his face. “What did you do?”
“Didn’t… go… how… I expected,” he says.
I snap my wings closed when Isac and Kaelea reach us.
“Thandoran. Thandoran.” She crumbles to her knees and leans over her belly, gingerly touching his chest as she checks him over. Finally she looks into his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come for me. Not me. I saved you, remember?”
“Had to…” he says.
“Give him this,” a nasal voice behind us says.
We jerk our heads toward the corridor. Natalia and Dumitru are there, with their backs pressed to the wall. They both have a clothespin over their noses. Natalia holds out a jug of orange juice, and Dumitru, a bottle of cloudy liquid.
They have a dead serious look of restraint on their faces. Clothespins are not foolproof against smells. Surely the crispy corpses from drinking Thandoran’s blood are a big enough deterrent for Natalia and Dumitru, and the clothespins are an added precaution.
If Thandoran wasn’t about to die, I’d laugh they look so funny.
Isac grabs the items. “What are they?”
“His ambrosia and vampire saliva,” Nat says. “We can’t lick his wounds shut ourselves, but we extracted enough of it for you to dab over his wounds. It should stop his bleeding.”
“Right,” I say. Vampire saliva seals wounds. Their bite has venom that paralyzes, but when vamps are done drinking, they excrete a special saliva from two glands in their mouths. Killian once sealed my wounds this way.
Isac passes the OJ to Kaelea, who carefully tips some into Thandoran’s mouth. “C’mon, drink, little brother. This will accelerate your healing.”
Isac and I go to work on Thandoran’s lacerations and dab saliva into the wounds. We begin with the ones gushing blood and save the glass extractions for last.
“There’s no telling how much internal damage he has. We must stabilize him enough for me to transport him to a hospital.” Isac holds a particularly jagged gash together while I swab it closed.
“I think his back is broken,” I say. “He’s not moving his arms or legs.”
“Can’t feel… anything,” Thandoran grunts.
“That’s a relief.” My words are half-hearted.
“If they take him into surgery and realign his back, the ambrosia should take over from there,” Isac says.
“Yes.” Kaelea gives more OJ to Thandoran. Most of it runs down his chin, but he manages to swallow some. “Once a vampire broke my wrist, and the doctor set it and gave me ambrosia. I was healed within the week.”
“Can we teleport?” I ask.
“The wards are down. I would have teleported Kaelea out of here if Ciprian hadn’t compelled me.” Isac moves to a piece of glass and nods at it.
“Should we leave it in and let the doctors remove it?” I ask. “It could be piercing something important.”
“That might be a good idea,” Kaelea says.
“Okay,” Isac says. “He’s ready. I’ll take him first and then come back for…”
“Sasha,” Kaelea says. “Take her first.”
“Yeah right,” I say. “Isac, take the pregnant lady to the hospital.” I am not leaving her here with Natalia and Dumitru close by. Plus, I know there’s lingering vamps who didn’t participate in the bloodbath.
Thandoran mumbles. “Take… Kaelea.”
So he settles it.
Kaelea slides back to give Isac room to lift Thandoran. I thank the Creator for demon strength because there’s no way I could move Thandoran with my little ole sprite might.
“Uh, Kaelea.” Isac looks at her with alarm. “Why are you in a puddle of liquid?”
“My water broke a few minutes ago,” Kaelea says sheepishly. “But I wasn’t going to make this about me when my brother was dying.”
“Kaelea!” Isac takes her shoulders.
“Get him to the hospital! This baby will wait.”
Isac gives her a curt nod and picks up Thandoran with haste.
“Watch the glass!” I hiss.
Isac’s already gone.
Natalia and Dumitru are stoic but watchful. Dumitru scans the dim corridor to the left and right. He must be on the lookout for more lurking vampi
res.
Kaelea smiles. “So, you’re the sprite my brother’s in love with.”
I snort and look around uneasily. “What?”
“When Isac told me about your meeting and the plan to escape, he also described how you two interacted with each other. He mentioned his suspicions, and after seeing you together, I knew.”
“That’s crazy.” I scoff. “Thandoran doesn’t—”
“I know my brother very well. Trust me, he does. He doesn’t show affection easily. He’s more of a tease-them-ruthlessly-instead-of-flirt-with-them type.”
“Uh…” Well, oh crap. All he ever does is tease me. Wait a second. How many other times and with how many other women has she witnessed this behavior in Thandoran?
Before I can ask, Isac blinks back. Just in time too because Kaelea’s face freezes, and she rounds over her belly with a silent wince.
First contraction. Isac cradles her against his chest. “Thandoran’s on his way to surgery. A nurse almost passed out when I appeared directly inside the ER. I didn’t have time to explain. A doctor ran right up and took over. I gave them Thandoran’s name and made sure he was rolling to the OR before I left.”
“Thank you, Isac. I’m in your debt,” I say.
He waves me off. After a moment, Kaelea straightens with a tight gasp. “Thank you for taking Thandoran.” She rubs her belly. “That one wasn’t so bad. The first ones usually aren’t.”
“How many deliveries have you gone through?” I ask.
“Eighteen. Five girls and thirteen boys. I’ve named them all. Mourned them all.” She rubs her stomach. “This time it’s twins.”
“Twins? How?”
“Two demons. One right after the other.” Kaelea presses her lips into a tight line. “I’m used to it.”
Sinister Sirens! From the vampire standpoint, it makes sense. Twice as many babies. And twins are still average-sized babies. I wouldn’t imagine more multiples being worth it, with each added baby smaller and smaller. I grimace. Why am I thinking about this? Poor Kaelea. She has grown so used to years of abuse. “I’m sure it never gets easier.”
“No.”
I hug her. “I’m so sorry.”
