by L. M. Pruitt
“But, Prophecy, I swear—.”
“Shut up, Christophe! I will never understand what possessed me to fuck you!” My jaw dropped open in shock at Guile’s raised voice and I saw Christophe flinch like he’d been slapped.
“No wonder you no longer hold the power of water. How can you purify anything when you don’t even know you’re being played for a fool?” Guile dropped into a wooden chair, the only furniture in the room apart from a barrack-style cot. The walls were dark stone, hard and cold against my back, with a smell of mildew strong enough to make me gag.
“So, Guile. How long have you been in league with Hart?”
She smiled, and I had a creepy Village of the Damned moment. “Long enough. Tell me Jude, how can you go back to sleeping with a human after you’ve been with a vampire?”
Ick. Seriously. Christophe gagged, although probably not for the same reason I did earlier. “I take that to mean you’ve been taking sex education lessons with Hart. How… interesting.”
“I prefer the term exhilarating.” Guile stretched, her arms over her head, legs in front of her, the long stretch of a contented cat.
“Guile. Tell me you’re lying.” Christophe looked heartbroken. Guile looked annoyed, and bored.
“Really, Christophe. Did you think I enjoyed your juvenile attempts at pleasuring me?” She laughed, low and rich like honey – or quicksand. I almost felt sorry for Christophe, especially if she laughed like that often. “How could I, after I spent the last year enjoying the attentions of a master?”
“Okay, really. You’ve broken the kid’s heart, no need to rub it in.”
“Oh, but there is. I consider it my reward for letting him put his filthy hands on me. I did what Hart asked me to, but I didn’t enjoy the act in the least.”
“Considering the fact you’re a fucking psycho, I’m not too surprised.” No way was I going to take this level of crap from a snotty, bratty teenager.
“Go ahead, Jude. Insult me all you want. After Hart drains you, I’ll be the one laughing.”
“What did you do?” Christophe surged to his feet and Guile followed suite. He grabbed her arms and shook hard enough her head snapped back and forth. “What in the name of everything holy have you done?”
“Let. Me. Go.” Her voice was still low and thick, but with a feral edge to it now. Like she’d rip your throat out with her teeth and smile while you bled to death.
He shook her again, harder. I don’t have a damn clue how he didn’t feel the power building in the room when the pressure made my ears hurt like hell. “What did you do, Guile?”
“Let. Me. Go!” Guile’s voice rose to a shout and she pushed him. Not with her hands, with air. Christophe might have lost his power, but Guile hadn’t. She threw it all at him, sending him crashing against the wall. Even over the roar of the wind I heard his head crack against the stone, a sickening sound that churned my stomach.
I scrambled over on my hands and knees as he slid to the floor, head lolling to one side. Guile chucked as the wind died down. Not laughed or giggled, but chuckled like she’d played some sort of practical joke.
The bitch was seriously psycho. Seriously.
I lifted his head, planning to cradle it in my lap while I did my best to heal him. My fingers slipped and I didn’t need to look to know they were covered in blood. Christophe’s eyes fluttered open and he moved his mouth to speak. Blood flowed from his ears, and began to trickle from his nose.
I couldn’t fix this.
He moved his lips again and I bent closer, ignoring the shooting pain in my ribs. I had to press my ear right next to his mouth to hear him.
“Please. Forgive me.” I nodded, thinking he was through, but he made to speak again and as I bent over I heard the low rattle in his chest confirming what I already knew.
“Don’t. Blame. My mother.” He drew a short, shallow breath and part of me wanted to tell him to stop talking, to save his strength. “She. Didn’t know.”
I nodded again and straightened. He drew one final breath, let it out slowly.
“Well, that’s one less loose end to tie up.” I jerked my head to look in Guile’s direction, sure I hadn’t heard her correctly. She stretched out on the cot, one elbow propped up to hold her head and back to looking bored.
“Did your mother drop you on your head as a child? You are seriously fucked up.”
She sat up, sliding off the bed to slink across the floor. She knelt in front of me, and I couldn’t help but shrink back slightly. I could deal with evil. Crazy was something else entirely.
“No, my mother didn’t really have time for me or Lies. Her interests weren’t really maternal.” She leaned closer, pressing her mouth to my ear. “They were more along the lines of arranging the death of Theo’s parents, or stripping the skin from your father’s back.”
Before my mind wrapped around her words, Guile reared back, smashed her fist into the side of my head, knocking me out completely.
“I was very clear in my instructions, Guile, and here she’s brought to me with bruised ribs and a concussion.” Why did everyone need to carry on conversations in the same room where I was sleeping? I mean, common fucking courtesy.
“She annoyed me.” Such whiny voices. Like teenagers.
Teenagers. Guile. Fuck.
I opened my eyes and tried to sit up. Halfway through the motion, nausea swamped me and I had to either lie back down or throw up. Since the latter would only make the pounding in my head worse, I decided to lie down but kept my eyes open.
“Well, at least she’s awake.” As if having a concussion wasn’t bad enough, I had to wake up to Hart and Guile. There should be a cap on the number of sociopaths allowed in a geographic area. Like one, or none. None would be optimal.
Hart’s face came into my field of vision and I tried to turn my head. Childish, but it seemed to be the only thing I could do at the moment. Hart grabbed my chin, forcing my head still. “Can you sit up?”
“Not without some help, and not without moving very slowly.” No point in lying. It would only make the situation worse.
Hart gestured to someone and moved aside. Two sets of hands shifted and moved me to a sitting position. I closed my eyes and bit my tongue, concentrating on not throwing up. I couldn’t call power of any variety right now to save my life.
Call me paranoid, but I would bet my life was in definite need of being saved.
Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed the nausea down. I waited until I was absolutely sure I wasn’t going to throw up before I opened them. Hart had retreated across the room, arranging himself in a chair resembling a stylized throne. Guile perched on his knee, and bile rose as I watched his hand stroke up and down her thigh.
Seriously. Fucked. Up.
“So nice of you to join us, Jude. I’d like to apologize for the hospitality you’ve received up to this point. My little Guile can be a tad overzealous in carrying out her task.” Oh, sure. Be polite after you beat the crap out of and before you kill me.
This is the South, after all. Manners are everything.
Guile pouted, snuggling closer like he was her favorite teddy bear. “I’m sorry, Hart. She made me so angry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Yes, well now we have one more body to dispose of, don’t we, my sweet?” His long fingers stroked down her cheek, and she made a cooing sound. “You know we planned to use that foolish boy for an appetizer.”
Her pout grew and she patted her fingertips against his thin lips. “But he was so annoying and he wanted to touch me while we waited.”
“Hmm, I understand how that would annoy you.” Hart’s hand slid under Guile’s dress and I swallowed to keep the vomit down. “But you know how upset I get when you disobey orders, my sweet.”
Guile leaned forward, raining little butterfly kisses over his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Of course you will, my sweet.”
I closed my eyes, turning my head quickly when he reared his
head back. Guile’s short scream told me he’d found his mark. The sound cut off quickly and I knew he squeezed her throat with his hand to keep her quiet. I didn’t want to watch. I didn’t like Guile, but she didn’t deserve to be a snack.
I had few illusions as to who Hart planned to have as the main meal. Lucky me.
I heard him swallowing from across the room. Finally, there came a dull thud. He’d pushed Guile off his lap, like she was nothing more than a piece of trash.
The sound of shoes moving across the carpet crept closer and I kept my eyes closed, my head turned away. No way was I looking at anything in this room of my own free will.
I heard him kneel next to me followed by the rustle of fabric. Straightening his pants crease, no doubt. A bruising grip on my chin turned my face forward.
“Now, Jude. I’ve apologized and dealt with the problem. There’s no need to be petulant. Open your eyes, let’s have a little chat.”
I knew without a doubt he would hurt me even worse if I didn’t do as he asked. Slowly, I opened my eyes, swallowing hard against nausea and panic. He could break my neck with a flick of his wrist. Having his fingers on my chin scared the living daylights out of me.
Knowing he and Williams were brothers, I finally noted the similarities. Not in coloring so much as in bone structure. The line of their noses. The shape of their jaw. Obvious, once pointed out.
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to do something for me. One little thing, and then all this will be cleared up.” Like we’d somehow been given the wrong tickets at the opera. Just switch a few things around, and everything’s better.
“I need you to tell me where the will is.”
I blinked slowly. Not in an effort to buy time, but because my body was just moving slowly. “How?”
“By seeing it, of course.” Hart chuckled, like I’d said something amusing. Silly me.
“I don’t see things.”
Hart’s eyes roamed over my face, judging the truth in my statement. His fingers tightened on my chin and I knew they were leaving marks. “Of course you can. Your father was the best little psychic pet I had before he fell in with your mother.”
“I don’t see things.” Good thing I already knew about my father’s prior involvement with Hart. My brain was too battered to handle more surprises.
Hart barked something in French at one of the guards and they scurried out of the room. I concentrated on my breathing. Keeping my breathing steady helped with the headache and nausea. He didn’t say anything while we waited, which was good. Anytime he talked, bad things happened.
A door opened, followed by the shuffling of feet. Hart glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning to my face. “You swore she could see. That she would tell me where the will is.”
“The little bitch should be able to. Her father saw something every time he closed his eyes.”
There was no mistaking that foghorn of a voice. I shifted my eyes to look over Hart’s shoulder, watched her make her slow progress across the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Did you really think Hart would know to use Guile without a little friendly advice?” This had to be the most fucked up family, ever. I seriously hoped Theo’s branch had gotten rid of the crazy gene. “Now, tell him where the will is.”
I wet my lips, shaking my head as much as possible considering the fact Hart had an iron grip on it. “I don’t know.”
Hart must have believed me because he let go of my face and shoved me away from him. The sudden movement proved too much and I turned my head, vomiting all over the carpet, and Hart.
“These are two thousand dollar shoes, you bitch!” Another blow to the side of my head and I welcomed the accompanying darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Wake up, you stupid bitch. Wake up.” I must be dreaming. No way was this happening again. Another blow to my side, but not the same one Guile had kicked me on.
Ok, not a dream, or déjà vu. People just wanted to beat the crap out of me today. Lucky me.
I surfaced very, very slowly. I tasted blood and sour in my mouth and remembered vaguely biting my own tongue when Hart tried to punch a hole in my head. I probably had really bad breath right now.
They’d propped me up against something. At least this time there wouldn’t be the struggle to sit up. If I’d thought my head hurt before, it was nothing compared to now. I don’t think Hart was going to get a chance to kill me. I was going to die because my brain was bleeding. I didn’t have the trickle effect Christophe had shown, but some instinctive, animal part of me knew.
I opened my eyes and there sat Lisette. The chair was high enough up off the ground that only the very tips of her toes touched the floor but she’d shown her true colors. No way in hell would I fall for the little old woman routine again.
“It’s a pity the nuns didn’t drown you at birth, like a mongrel cat and spare all this trouble.”
A loud crash sounded in the distance, answered with a thundering boom. Other sounds began to filter in – the roaring of the wind as it whipped around the corner of a building, the strange whooshing sound a flash fire makes. I felt a low rumble through my bones.
Above it all, the keening, high-pitched sound of screams.
“I don’t suppose you care your family is out there. Dying.”
Lisette snorted, her feet swinging slightly. “Weak, pitiful fools, all of them. You’ve blinded Theo with your whorish charms, and tricked Lies into thinking she can be different from her sister, but I know the truth.”
“You wouldn’t know the truth if it crawled up and bit your bony ass.”
“The truth, you wretched girl, is I should have been the leader of the Covenant, not your grandmother or your sniveling, whiny mother.” She cackled, taking my silence for shock. And she’d be right.
“Before your ancestor showed up, the woman who gave birth to my family line was the leader of the joined families. Then your pregnant, whorish ancestor appeared, spouting her foolish talk about a Prophecy and my ancestor was removed from power.” Lisette leaned forward, her sightless eyes intense and evil. “For all my life, I’ve swallowed that insult. I watched as Gillian coddled your mother, made her weak and useless, and I knew it was time.”
“You gave my father to Hart.” It might have been the sheer gravity of all the injuries, but I couldn’t even work up enough disgust to feel sick. Just scared.
“Myself and Wily – after we had a little fun. We made sure no one would ever suspect us.” She smiled and my skin crawled. “And they haven’t.”
“You did a good job.” I swallowed hard, the fear all but choking me. All the things to be scared of and I was afraid of an old woman I had a good foot on.
Hart might kill me. Lisette would peel the skin from my bones and laugh while she did it.
“Of course I did. I made sure the former Council knew every time Gillian tried to contact you. I ordered the disposal of more than one of her agents myself.” She tapped my ribs with her cane and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. “If Hart hadn’t been so damn focused on the will, he’d have taken care of you that first night.”
Her lip curled in distaste and I hoped Hart had a clue what kind of crazy he was in bed with. “Stupid man. Just like his maker. Never believing a woman can be as deadly as a man.”
A sick, twisted thought began to form, swirling around in my mind. “You planned everything. The missing will, the war.” Bile rose in my throat and I gagged before continuing. “Gillian’s death.”
“I’m ninety-seven years old. I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate the downfall of your family.” Her smile grew and I gagged again, praying I wouldn’t throw up. “It’s been my fondest dream for a number of years now.”
“What about the Covenant? Who’s going to lead them once you’ve disposed of me?” Maybe if I kept her talking, I could come up with some sort of plan. A quick and dirty one, but as long as I got the hell out of this room, I didn’t give a damn.
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br /> “Me, of course. Then Wily, and then Lies. She’ll come around, once she’s no longer under the disgusting influence of you and your group of misfits.”
I took a deep breath, concentrating on letting the air in and out of my lungs. I’d never thrown fire at a human, only vamps, so I didn’t know if she’d actually go up in flames, but it was the closest thing I had to a sure-fire weapon. I’d be damned if I would die sitting on my ass without some kind of fight.
“You’re wrong, Lisette.”
She frowned, the gesture marring her facial features. “No, I’ve thought this all through. I’ve planned this for years.”
I surged forward, knocking her cane away, gripping her arm with my other hand. There was a moment where fear showed in her eyes before she sneered at me. “You’re too weak.”
I thought of all the lives she’d ruined out of a misplaced sense of pride. Gillian’s. My parents’. Theo and his parents’. “Think again.”
She didn’t burst into flames like the vamps did. More like watching someone struck by lightning without seeing the lightning flash. Her skin blackened and charred and the smell of burning flesh rose from her body. She shook, little spasms at first, gradually increasing until she looked like she was caught in the throes of a seizure. Her eyes rolled in their sockets and her tongue danced over her lips, twitching and jerking.
I held on, even though I wanted to stand up and run. I could rationalize a vampire bursting into flames, because they were already dead. Burning Lisette from the inside out, frying her organs, boiling her blood, made me sick to my core.
Finally, she stopped moving, stopped breathing. I watched the life fade from her eyes, the same as Christophe’s, and I felt relieved. Sick, tired, but relieved. So much death because of something long ago. It wasn’t the fault of anyone living, but we continued to pay.
We’d paid enough.
I used the edge of the chair to push to my feet, not surprised when I swayed and almost fell over. My head didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it should, but I didn’t feeling like dancing, either. The sounds of the battle echoed in the distance.
