Shades of Blood (Warriors of Ankh #3)

by Samantha Young

  “Are you alright?” Cyrus frowned at the wound.

  Eden nodded. It hurt like a bitch but right now she was more concerned about Tobe and Cameron.

  He gave her a brisk nod back and then turned to look down at the Scots. “Why are you here?”

  Tobe looked up at Eden first, the cut on her lip really bad. She was clearly in pain and her arm needed set a.s.a.p. The dude had just taken on eight Neith. Eden felt a rush of pride, wanting to fall to her side, to help her, but there was still a lot of anger in Tobe’s eyes when she looked at her.

  She still blamed her for her Nana’s death.

  Grief clogged Eden’s throat at the thought of brave Mhairi Douglas. The woman she couldn’t save. The woman who had died to save Noah.

  With a quick glance at Cameron who, Eden realized, was unusually quiet, Tobe turned to gaze up at Cyrus. “We came for you. For help?”

  “Why, what’s happened?” Eden marched forward, her heart picking up speed.

  Tobe glared at her. “My mum and dad have been taken. We were attacked. By The Tribunal.”

  “Shit.” Noah sighed, rubbing Tobe’s back soothingly. “When?”

  “Less than 24 hours ago.” A tear dripped down Tobe’s cheek. “They took us by surprise. We were in my room and we heard the fight from downstairs… we jumped out the window… I… I still don’t trust McLeish. I didn’t think he’d help because of Cameron so we circled back to the house and waited for it to clear. We got our passports. I took my credit card and jumped on a plane to Boston with Cam. When we landed we got in a taxi. A van cut off the driver outside the store and then the soul eaters tried to drag us inside. We took off for the nearest place to hide but they came after us.”

  Fear. Guilt. Sorrow. It all crashed through Eden. She was so exhausted. Had it only been two days ago that she’d been happy? When Cyrus looked over at her she faced him grimly. “This is about me, isn’t it? About what Teagan was trying to do?”

  Her cousin, Teagan, had had in his possession one of Cyrus’ old journals, stolen from him by her father Ryan Winslow. From the journal notes, Ryan had believed that if Eden were ever transformed to Ankh, the transformation could be reversed by killing the one whose blood had converted her to Ankh within seven years of the transfusion. That’s what he and Teagan had believed. But they’d been wrong. The truth was the entire bloodline had to die within seven years of the transfusion.

  The entire bloodline.

  That would be Christopher, Alison and Tobe. Mhairi was already gone.

  Cyrus nodded, his eyes so serious and sad. “It appears they have learned the truth. But they are not concerned with you, Eden. This is about me and possibly Darius. I think The Tribunal hope to dangle the threat of your demise over us in order to bait us.”

  “So what do we do now? We should have kept one of these bastards alive,” Val said, the anger evident in the tight clip of her words.

  “It is alright. We will find where they are keeping the Douglas’ and we will get them back.”

  “There’s something else,” Tobe whispered, her eyes falling with horror and concern onto Cameron. “The reason I didn’t go to McLeish… Cam… well… they…”

  Cameron raised his head, his eyes seeming devoid of much emotion. He cleared his throat, his shoulders set with weary defiance. “They took a piece of my soul.”

  Chapter Six

  Alone in a Crowded Room

  It was like he hated chocolate cream cake. It looked like it was bloody delicious but the actual eating of it was like swallowing saw dust. That’s how Cameron felt about Tobe. About everyone. And the part of him that should be freaking out just didn’t care enough to. But at least he was aware that he was supposed to be freaking out. That was something. Right? The room was huge but cozy, decorated in warm, masculine colors, the king-sized bed in the corner just begging him to drop down on it and surrender to a long and dreamless sleep. Cameron hadn’t felt this exhausted in a long time. The door had closed behind Alain five minutes ago and still Cameron hadn’t moved. It was taking some time for the reality of what had happened to him to sink in. Or… maybe, he really didn’t care. Tobe had done all the talking when the Princeps and the others had bundled them into a van. As his arm healed over from the cut and his lungs started working properly again, the trip to Cyrus’ mansion had seemed to take forever. Tobe had been pretty banged up and he knew from his memories that he should have been pissed off, worried, anxious, ready to kill… Tobe meant a lot to soulful Cameron. But with a chip out of his soul, the semi-soul Cameron could barely bring himself to pretend to care. At least he’d been smart enough to trust his instincts and his memories and follow Tobe to Boston, to Cyrus. It looked as if the Princeps was going to take care of everything. And he knew he should want that piece of his soul back so that was good enough for him to do whatever it took to get it back. With a heavy sigh, he moved his healing muscles over to the bed and let his body sink into the luxurious mattress. He’d never seen anything like Cyrus’ mansion. It was crazy.

  He’d left a lot behind to secure his soul. Friends, his Councilman/uncle and his mum. Not that he’d seen much of his mum lately. Christ, he’d been really angry about that hadn’t he? He’d been stewing in a rage for days. And he and Tobe had hooked up again after sorting out their misunderstanding. She’d wanted to talk about things. There had been so much drama in his life the last few weeks and now… to not care… it was kind of liberating.

  He better not say that to Tobe.

  As his eyes drifted closed a strange feeling took over. His body seemed to be sinking deep, deeper into the mattress, the firmness of it beneath him giving way to an inky goop that encased him, crawling over him like warm paint. Cameron gasped, trying to open his eyes but the darkness behind his lids refused to give in until… pin pricks of light began puncturing it like he was coming out of anesthesia. A stream of sound and color flooded him until he was no longer… well… him…

  …Darwin Rice was pissed off. Utterly and completely pissed off. He threw a disgusted look at Peter, his anger not for him but for the incompetent idiots Peter had sent out after October Douglas when she’d landed in Boston. “How are we supposed to get to the girl now? She’s locked up in Cyrus’ fortress.”

  Peter sighed, his own gaze shooting past Darwin to the glass observation window and the occupants of the room on the other side of it. Christopher Douglas and his wife, Alison, were chained to the walls, their arms cradled in steel so strong not even a Neith could get out of it. They looked like something out of a medieval prisoner of war tale. “Perhaps our possession of these two will be enough.”

  Darwin shook his head, trying desperately not to take his irritation out on Peter. Peter was his only ally, his only friend. And the Blessed did not do friendships. “Without the Douglas girl there is no threat to Eden’s life and thus we have nothing compelling enough to draw Cyrus and Darius to us.”

  Peter shook his head. “Not necessarily. From what Teagan told us Eden is close to the Douglas’. She may demand that Cyrus come after these two.” He flicked a hand at the Neith. “For now I suggest we keep them alive.”

  That seemed reasonable, and desperate not to give up on his plan to take down the Ankh, Darwin nodded wearily. “And perhaps the girl will leave the mansion. She will have to eventually. Try and post a more competent surveillance team near the mansion.”

  His friend nodded but surprised him by not moving away to do his bidding. Instead he cleared his throat. “Anderson is beginning to suspect something, Darwin.”

  The name shot a feeling of dread and impatience through him. He turned to Peter sharply. “How so?”

  “He’s been questioning your whereabouts. Our whereabouts.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That we’re tracking one of our own who has gotten out of control. But he did think it prudent to reiterate that we were to leave Eden Winslow alone.”

  “You think he knows we haven’t given up?”

  “As I say I t
hink he suspects something.”

  That was the last thing they needed. Darwin straightened his tie, a nervous gesture. Landon Anderson was the head of The Tribunal. His superior. His superior who would think little of killing his own Blessed if he thought for one moment he was putting The Tribunal at risk. “We need something to distract him.”

  “Such as?”

  Darwin looked at him steadily, a hard glint in his eye. “Let’s see if we can find dirt on any of our fellow Tribunal members.”

  “Dirt?”

  “Anything worthy of a witch hunt.”

  Peter nodded, shifting his feet, betraying the fact that he was not at all comfortable with the idea.

  Darwin sighed. Peter was always just that little bit softer than he was when it came to hurting their own. “Needs must, Peter. It’s either us or them.”

  They were quiet a moment and Darwin turned back to look through the glass. Alison Douglas didn’t look good. She’d gotten an infection in one of her injuries and, despite her Neith gift for regeneration, she was taking longer than he would like to heal. Disgusting creature. But he needed her healthy. “Before you send out a surveillance team, find someone to check that infection.” He pointed to the bruising around the healed wound of her upper arm. “The Neith bitch doesn’t look too good.”

  “Why do you think she’s not healing?”

  “Probably because we haven’t fed or watered them.”

  “Shouldn’t we then…”

  Darwin nodded jerkily. “Yes. Do what you can to fix her. The last thing we need is her dying before we can negotiate with the Ankh.”

  “You sure you’re alright?” Val asked for the fifteenth time.

  Tobe sighed, her broken arm, now unbroken, itching and irritated but a hell of a lot less painful. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. “I just need to sleep.”

  “Well… my room is right down the hall if you need me.”

  She managed a grateful smile as Val closed the door. Tobe didn’t want to be unpleasant to the people that were helping her but holy hell was she glad for the peace and quiet. She sank down onto the bed in the vanilla room that was way bigger than her bedroom back in Edinburgh. With a grunt and a lot of effort she kicked off her boots and curled up on the bed, pulling the comforter over her and snuggling into the pillow. The pulse of her heart pushed against her shirt and she took a deep breath trying to control the crazy fluttering of the organ. With her mum and dad missing it was a wasted effort. Panic suffused her as it always did when she let herself remember, and quick, quiet tears rolled from beneath her lashes, soaking the pillow underneath her with their warm saltiness. Tobe had never felt so alone. Her parents were gone, her Nana was dead, and Cameron was no longer… Cameron… and Eden..? Gods when she’d seen Eden standing in that warehouse, so capable, strong, fierce, she’d reminded her of how she’d felt about her. Tobe had admired her from the moment she’d met her; the way she commanded a room without a saying word, her loyalty, protectiveness, her bad-ass fighting skills and quick, biting attitude. Tobe had looked up to her, had wanted to fight side by side with her, had known that here was someone who could take on anyone and win.

  But that hadn’t been true.

  Tobe had trusted her to save her Nana.

  And Eden had failed. She’d let her down.

  So now… she didn’t even have Eden. Was she supposed to depend upon her to bring her parents back?

  How had this happened? How had she been left here all alone?

  She needed to get her parents back. She needed to get Cameron’s soul back. She needed everything to go back to the way it had been only 48 hours before.

  Tobe had been hanging around Cameron a lot lately because he was going through such a hard time living with Councilman McLeish. He was angry all the time because McLeish wouldn’t let him see his mum, Mary. So Tobe was there for him. And, perhaps selfishly, she’d used their time together to slip into conversation what Shona had said Cameron had said about how kissing Tobe was like kissing his cousin. Cam was ragin’. He never said anything of the kind.

  So they talked. Smoothed out their misunderstanding. Kissed a lot… before McLeish had kicked her out.

  He was such an old-fashioned fart.

  And then that morning… gods she was desperate to go back to that morning. To have known, to have protected, to have fought back…

  …“You sure your mum’s alright about me being up here?” Cameron asked softly, his fingers stroking her short dark hair back from her face. He was stretched out beside her on her bed and Tobe could barely concentrate on what he was saying. She was feverish and delighted. Was Cameron hers again?

  “Mum’s not like McLeish. She doesn’t do chastity belts and curfews and leashes.”

  Cameron snorted, his eyes growing dark with bitterness at the thought of his uncle. Tobe reached up, her small hand stroking his cheek comfortingly. He nuzzled into it, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her palm.

  After she’d told her mum about her and Cameron and how she wanted to talk to him about their possible relationship, Alison had jumped onboard, happy to see a spark in Tobe’s eyes again after all that had happened. The house seemed so empty without Mhairi in it. Tobe wouldn’t even go into her room but threw a tantrum anytime Alison suggested they give some of her Nana’s things away. So Tobe knew her mum would do anything to keep the peace and she’d suggested inviting Cameron over for breakfast so he and Tobe could chat about things later on in her room. She had a seriously cool mum. Either that or Alison was the most naïve parent to walk the planet. Probably a bit of both.

  “So… are we going to talk about things?” Tobe asked quietly, pulling her hand back.

  Cameron caught it and pinned it above her head, shifting his hips against hers provocatively. “I thought things were fairly obvious.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh they are, are they?”

  His wicked smile tugged at something deep within her and she was pretty helpless to refuse when he kissed her. A soft kiss that grew desperate.

  When they heard the crash and cries from downstairs their shirts were already off, the door was locked, and they had just been moving on to shimmying out of their jeans. Cameron pulled back, a sharp wariness flooding in and extinguishing the heat in his eyes. “What was that?”

  Another muffled cry shocked them apart and the rushing stomps of aggressive feet up the staircase.

  Intruders!

  There was someone in her home.

  Tobe dived for her t-shirt, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to get to mum and dad, she had to… She rushed for her bedroom door only to be yanked back by Cameron. “What the hell are you doing?” she cried, trying to pull out of his firm hold.

  His eyes narrowed with determination. “Getting you out of here.” He dragged her towards her bedroom window, hauling it up. “Jump.”

  The door knob rattled and a growl purred through the wood when the intruder discovered it was locked.

  “What about mum and dad?” she felt tears prick her eyes.

  “Tobe.” Cameron clasped her head between his two hands. “Your mum and dad would want me to protect you. Go!”

  The wood paneling of the door splintered and an aggressive face appeared in the hole. Grey eyes glinted at them in hunger.

  Soul eaters!

  “Go!” Cameron shouted, pushing her now.

  Adrenaline and fear spiked her muscles and Tobe found herself clambering out of the window onto the tiled roof, her boots heavy and destructive on them. She slid shakily towards the edge and was about to drop the twelve feet to the garden below when she turned to make sure Cameron was following her.

  He wasn’t.

  He was fighting off the soul eater, trying to buy her time.

  She froze, watching the tall soul eater in his dark grey suit ricochet Cameron’s head off the window, the glass shattering out towards her. Cameron blinked, momentarily disoriented, a trickle of blood winding its way down his fa
ce from his eyebrow. The momentary distraction was all it took. The soul eater clasped his face in his hands and leaned into him, their mouths almost touching as if he were going in for a kiss.

  NO!

  Horror shot through her, absolute and clear, pushing her back up the roof. Slates slid under her feet determined to take her down with them, but the sight of a blue smoke-like property drawing out of Cameron and into the soul eater drove her on. She sprung forward like a gymnast, gripping the sides of the window to hold her upper body up as she swung her legs inwards, broken glass slicing through her jeans. She didn’t even feel it. But she did feel the vibration of her feet hitting the soul eater hard enough to knock him flying, and hard enough to rattle her teeth. The rest of her body followed her legs inside and she landed low to the ground. Without thought Tobe reached for a shard of glass. Gripping it in her hand the edges sliced through skin and the pain barely registered as warm blood trickled through her fingers. Tobe spun around and launched herself at the soul eater who moved slowly with surprise. She landed square on his chest, his distinguished face tight with indignation as she plunged the shard into his neck. His grey eyes flew wide and he gurgled, thick blood sputtering out between his lips.

  Tobe didn’t stick around.

  She quickened to her feet and drew towards a dazed Cameron.

  Shit.

  He looked at her blankly.

  His soul!

  “Cameron?” she whispered.

  He didn’t say a word.

  Tobe felt angry tears coming but shoved them back inside, her head snapping around to glare at the soul eater on the ground who was trying to pull the shard out. His fingers kept slipping on blood. She’d have to kill him. To get Cam’s soul back, she’d have to kill him.

  “Darwin! You got her?!” someone shouted, footsteps clomping up the stairs following the question. “Did you get the girl?! Darwin?!”