Alistair was suddenly behind Katelina, one arm around her neck. His angry eyes met Jorick’s. “I don’t want your blood, only hers.”
“You’ll get neither.” Jorick lunged towards them.
Alistair growled low and squeezed her throat. She choked and gagged and tried to hit him. Her hands found his face and by instinct her thumb worked toward his eye.
And then he let go. She coughed and looked up to see Jorick grappling with him. His face was a mask of twisted fury and his fangs flashed in the cold moonlight. Alistair snarled back, more animal than man, his hair in disarray and his eyes too clear and cold to be sane.
Jorick slammed him on the ground and Alistair lay stunned for half a second. It was long enough for Jorick to ready a death blow. It never landed. Alistair rolled away and seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving the words, “I’ll be back for both of you.”
Katelina pulled herself to her knees, one hand to her bruised throat. Her terrified eyes darted around the winter landscape. Jorick waited the span of a heartbeat and then, when no attack came, he hurried to her and knelt down quickly.
“Are you all right?”
She gave an experimental cough and nodded, afraid her voice would betray her terror. It had been so fast. One moment they were walking, the next she was choking, and now Alistair was gone. It was like riding on Verchiel’s back; too much motion to comprehend.
Jorick pulled her close and stroked her hair, murmuring useless phrases that were meant to comfort her. There was nothing that would comfort her anymore. Each incident with Alistair was worse than the one before. Next time he would probably kill one of them.
Jorick helped her to her feet and led her back to the house. He tucked her safely inside and told her to go to the makeshift bedroom and get some rest.
“You still need to feed.”
“I can lure something to the porch. Don’t worry.” He gave her a soft smile. “Just rest. You’ll have a long day ahead of you.”
She nodded, not because she thought sleep was a good idea, but because the basement seemed safe. There was no way Alistair could pull off a sneak attack through layers of earth and concrete. Or was there? He’d been in the bedroom, after all.
Once downstairs, she flopped on the floor in the junk room and stared at the ceiling. She was far from tired. In the aftermath of the adrenaline, she felt sick and twitchy, not to mention she’d woken from a full day’s sleep only an hour or two ago.
She gave up and braved the smell in the bedroom to pack the black gym bag with a few essentials. It was supposed to be a short trip, so she didn’t need the big suitcase. If it went as fast as Jorick thought it would, she wouldn’t even need the gym bag, but better safe than sorry.
When that was done, she retreated to the junk room again. Time passed slowly. She wondered if Jorick had lured something, and if it was that easy why he bothered to go hunting at all. She wondered where Alistair was and what he was doing. She wondered if Verchiel was still in the area.
The last thought made her feel guilty, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Jorick hated him so much. But if he were there, Jorick could just leave him with her, while he hunted Alistair down. If the lunatic did sneak around and attack her while he was gone, Verchiel could probably handle him. Alistair's advantage was his speed, and Verchiel was just as fast as he was. He could probably pin him down easily.
She shook herself. How could she contemplate having the redheaded idiot around, especially in a situation that required someone reliable? The last thing she wanted was to see him again!
Wasn't it?
Despite everything, a sort of sluggish sleep eventually found her. Caught between dreamland and reality, random monsters chased her; fangs flashing and clawed hands ripping. When she woke at midnight she was less rested than when she’d gone to bed.
Though she craved the safety of the basement walls, she couldn’t stand another moment alone with her thoughts and fears. She changed her rumpled clothes and headed upstairs. She found Jorick in a front room chair, his attention on the book in his hands.
“Make sure you put that back when you’re done.” It was her attempt to tease him.
“Maybe.” He studied her. “Feeling better?”
Her hand moved to touch her throat. “Yeah. It still hurts a little though.”
“Oren should be here in a couple of hours.”
She nodded. There was nothing to do but wait. She hated waiting. Better to get on with it than to sit, staring at nothing and dreading what was coming.
It was almost three when a vehicle pulled in. For the first time, Katelina was happy to see Oren. She dropped the book she’d been reading on the nearest stand and stood, just as a purposeful knock sounded at the door.
Jorick calmly finished his paragraph, and then answered it. His lion-maned fledgling pushed his way past him. He glanced at Katelina and uncomfortably adjusted his long gray coat. “I assume Jorick mentioned that you’ll be driving?”
She suddenly realized how horrible it must be for him to need something from her. The idea spread a smile across her face. “Let’s see how superior you are now, Mr. Grumpyboots!”
A warning look from Jorick said he’d heard her thoughts. She flashed him her cheery grin. “Yes, Jorick explained that you need me this time.”
Oren’s eyebrows drew together and his hands clenched, but he kept himself in check. “Yes, humans can occasionally be convenient. It’s nice to see you’ve finally managed it.”
Touché.
She refused to let his comments ruin her victory, and she was still smiling when she walked out the door, the black gym bag in hand. The smile died as her eyes landed on the vehicle Oren had borrowed. It was a large, dark brown panel van that looked as big as an armored truck. Now she knew how they hauled the coffins. “You’ve got to be kidding! That thing is huge!”
“It will suffice.” Oren walked towards the driver’s door, a set of keys jingling in his hand. “There are a couple of hours until sunlight, I’ll drive until then.”
Katelina stood rooted to the spot, her eyes wide, and Jorick had to give her a nudge to get her moving. “I can’t drive that! There’s no way! I’ve never driven anything that big before!”
“You’ll be fine.”
Before she could object, a blur of motion passed between them and knocked Jorick to the side. She jumped back instinctively, and suddenly it was behind her. Someone pinned down her arms and hissed in her ear, “Where do you think you're going with your little black bag, you stupid bitch? No trip for you.”
Alistair. Again.
Oren was half in and half out of the van. It took him a moment to register the attack. When he did, he dropped to the ground immediately. His golden eyes shifted between Jorick and the enemy.
The raven-haired vampire was on his feet quickly. He snarled in rage and closed the gap between himself and Katelina impossibly fast. His fist swung. Alistair dodged away and the blow landed against the side of the van with a metallic crunching sound that left a dent.
“Stay there!” Jorick shouted to Katelina and Oren as he lunged after their attacker. Katelina pressed her back against the cold metal of the van. Her heart pounded and her throat felt too tight to swallow. Though Oren stood nearby, his tense muscles and shifting eyes showed his indecision. Follow the fight or stand guard. She knew which one he’d rather do.
Something slammed into the roof of the vehicle, and they both looked up to see Alistair crouched there. His lips were pulled back from his teeth and his pale face was dotted with blood. Katelina stifled a scream as she realized whose it must be.
Alistair met Oren’s eyes. “I don’t want your blood, only theirs.”
For a second Katelina thought the lion-maned vampire would take the out. Instead he asked angrily, “Is this stupid human really worth all the effort?”
Alistair’s voice was gravely and cold. “She murdered my Kateesha! A filthy, lowly, human! You expect me to accept that?”
“What’s do
ne is done. You won’t gain anything by targeting her.”
Alistair drew back, tensing to strike. “Is that your philosophy, as you wage a war on those who killed your own?” Oren stiffened and Alistair barked, “Will you defend her, too?”
She could almost feel Oren loathing his own answer. “Yes.”
Alistair’s eyes glowed. “That makes you no better than she is. I hadn’t planned to harm anyone else, but since you’re determined to shield her, you and Jorick will share her fate!”
Before Oren could argue, Alistair leapt from the top of the van and tackled him to the ground. His fangs flashed and he bit Oren’s arm. The blonde vampire swore loudly and punched him in the side of the head, then he rolled over, effectively pinning him down.
Katelina tried to disappear into the side of the van and held back a scream. Where the hell was Jorick? With her eyes, she followed the path he’d taken, but she saw nothing. Was he all right? Did he need help? If she ran while Alistair was busy with Oren, maybe she could find him.
She darted in the direction he’d disappeared. As she did, Alistair tore loose from Oren. He slammed the blonde’s head into the ground and then seemingly disappeared. He reappeared behind her. Just like the dreams where she couldn’t run fast enough, she knew there was no way she could escape him. Still, she tried.
Alistair grabbed her arm and swung her around. She slammed into the van. The breath was knocked out of her. Alistair pulled back, fangs exposed and ready to strike.
Jorick was suddenly there. He grabbed Alistair and flung him away. He crashed into a nearby tree and landed in the snow, stunned.
Jorick met Katelina’s eyes. With no time for conversation he simply shouted, “Stay!” and then ran towards the downed vampire. He grabbed Alistair by a leg and an arm and swung him into the tree. Alistair twisted in midair and took the impact on his side. Katelina heard the crunch and imagined broken ribs. Despite the injury, he dropped into a roll and pulled to his feet.
Meanwhile, Oren had recovered. He swiped stray hairs from his face and gave Katelina a cursory glance. Then, he dashed past her to tackle Alistair. By the time he’d landed, the brunette was gone.
Oren growled in wordless frustration. Jorick spun, his dark eyes searching for their enemy. His shirt was ripped and Katelina could see that the blood had come from a wound in his chest. She wanted to call to him and make sure he was all right, but he found who he was seeking and took off after him.
Alistair leapt to the top of the van and then down again, landing next to Katelina. Jorick changed directions mid stride, now barreling towards them. Alistair grabbed her arm. This time he threw her into Jorick. The raven-haired vampire caught her. He had to stop to set her carefully aside. Alistair took advantage of the delay to jump behind the vehicle.
Oren was up and he followed Alistair, but the brunette bounced back to the roof and then landed on the other side of Jorick. The dark haired vampire grabbed Katelina’s arm and flung her behind him. She stumbled, and then caught herself. He released her and swung his fist towards Alistair.
The vampire jumped away and made to run around the front of the van. Oren, on a similar path, crashed into him. He grabbed Alistair and heaved him in the air as though he weighed nothing. He slammed him into the hood. His head bounced against the windshield and the glass cracked. Blood splattered across it. When Alistair got loose, half of his face was crushed and bleeding. A trail of crimson ran from his eye like tears; the tears he'd cried while Kateesha was killed.
He met Katelina’s terrified gaze and charged at her; there one moment gone the next. Jorick was prepared this time. In a move too fast for her to see, he shoved her out of the way so that Alistair slammed into him. They grappled, hands scrambling for purchase. Alistair feinted left, then bit into Jorick’s shoulder and ripped. Katelina saw the blood and something snapped in her. With a savage cry she jumped on Alistair’s back. She tightened her knees around him and grabbed his face. She jabbed her fingers into his injured eye. He roared in pain and fury. Jorick slammed him in the stomach, and he bent double, then spun around and threw her off as though she were a rag doll. She hit the ground hard enough to jar her shoulder and rolled, coming to a stop against the tire of the van. She looked up in time to see Oren flying overhead; leaping from the vehicle’s dented roof.
He landed, grabbed Alistair, and pulled his arms behind his back. As if the move had been prearranged, Jorick slammed his fist into Alistair’s face and then grabbed him by the throat. His dark eyes glittered dangerously and his savage fangs glittered in the moonlight. He was raw, dark fury made flesh.
“Are you alone?” he roared to their injured captive. “Or are you following Anya’s orders?”
Katelina wondered why he didn’t just read Alistair’s mind and find out what he wanted to know. Maybe he wanted the fun of making him talk.
Alistair sneered and tried to break free. Oren was ready for it, and kicked him in the back of the knees. Surprise and pain flickered over his face.
Jorick repeated, “Are you here on Anya’s orders?”
“Fuck Anya and fuck you, human-lover.”
“That’s what I thought.” And, with a nod to Oren, Jorick slammed his fist into Alistair’s chest with a sickening crunch and a splatter of blood. The vampire held Jorick’s eyes and snarled a final time. "You'll get yours one day, you and your filthy human." Then, Jorick pulled his hand back with a sloppy squelch. Gripped in his palm was a slimy red mass. Wordlessly, he dropped it to the ground and stepped on it. It exploded and shot crimson out into the snow.
For just a moment she could see the red, gaping hole in Alistair’s chest. Then, Oren released him, and the dead vampire crumpled to the ground. Jorick shook the lumpy gore from his hand and attempted to wipe the splatters from his face with the other.
Oren stepped back and looked down at his ruined clothes. His tone was peevish, “We’ll have to change.”
“And shower.” As if Jorick had suddenly remembered Katelina, he turned to see her huddled against the van, eyes wide. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Are you?”
He followed her eyes to his chest and shoulder. “Yes, little one. They aren’t deep. I will be fine tomorrow.” He looked to Oren. “You?”
“Nothing rest won’t heal. We’re running late as it is.”
Jorick cocked an eyebrow at his impatience. “You can shower first. I need to deal with this.” He pointed to the bleeding body.
Oren made a disagreeable noise in his throat, then he jerked open the van door, grabbed his black overnight bag and disappeared into the house.
Jorick moved to Katelina and knelt in front of her. He reached for her, but stopped when he noticed the gore on his hand. He dropped it quickly. “It’s all right. He’s dead.”
She nodded numbly. “Did Anya send him?”
“No. When she refused to war against us, he left her coven. However, I saw something in his mind about Thomas.”
Katelina’s eyes went wide. “Anya’s brother? Did he send Alistair?”
“Not so much sent, as encouraged. From what I could gather, that’s why Thomas didn’t bother to complain to The Guild. He thought Alistair would beat us.”
“He should have known better,” she said weakly. There had been several moments when she wasn’t sure.
Jorick reached for her again, but refrained from actually touching her. She held up her own bloody hands, to show that she was already messy. He didn’t get the hint. Instead, he said “When Oren finishes you can have the bathroom. Go on inside, I’ll finish this.”
She knew she should offer to help him, but the red puddle spreading from the dead body was too much. She didn’t think she could deal with turning it over to see the familiar gaping hole up close.
She nodded to Jorick and used the van to pull herself to her feet. She carefully skirted Alistair and the puddle. Though she tried to look away, her eyes were drawn to it. A sick terror filled her. Was this a premonition of what awaited them
on this trip? Eileifr had sent a message to tell Jorick to stick to the plan. Rescuing Kale hadn’t been part of it.
She kept the thoughts to herself and walked inside. She peered out the window to see Jorick heave Alistair’s ruined body up onto his shoulder, and then walk around the house. A brief image flickered through her mind of police digging up Jorick’s miniature vampire graveyard. It wasn’t a happy picture.
Oren was out of the shower before Jorick returned. He was dressed in new clothes and toting his overnight bag, his bloody gray coat folded over his arm. He met Katelina’s eyes briefly and gave her a crisp nod; the signal it was her turn.
When she’d bathed and changed, she went back to the front room to find Jorick waiting. He offered her a reassuring smile and then dodged past her to the bathroom.
With nothing to do, Katelina dropped into a chair and stared at her hands. They were clean now. It was funny how the shower washed it all away on the outside, but did nothing for the inside. When she closed her eyes she could see Alistair’s face pressed too close to hers, followed by a blurry, red tinted battle scene set to the screams of heartbreak.
Oren paced restlessly. His amber eyes moved from object to object, and she focused her attention on him. Better that then what was behind her eyes.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
Oren snapped around. He seemed to consider whether to answer her. “I don’t want to be away longer than necessary.”
She couldn’t blame him, not with Traven there. She didn’t trust him any more than Jorick or Oren did. “Do you guys have a plan?”
“Ask Jorick. I don’t know how much he wants to tell you.”
The answer made her angry and did nothing to fill her with confidence. Just then, Jorick emerged, clean and changed. He looked to Katelina, “Is your coat dirty?”
“Not too bad. I wiped it off.”
Oren snorted. “Mine won't come clean as easily.”
“Mine either.” Jorick disappeared and returned with another one. He handed it to her. “Take the spare.”
Amaranthine Special Edition Vol II Page 31
