Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02]

by A Kiss of Blood

  Until today, she’d suspected Lily was somewhere in Vamp City, but she hadn’t known for sure. Now she did. If Arturo could spring Zack from the gladiator camp, he could find a way to get Lily out of Castle Smithson. And he would. Because they were partners now, God help her.

  The next time she escaped Vamp City, it would be with Zack and Lily.

  She just hoped there was a next time.

  Lily Wang slid her hand across the gold satin sheet, smoothing it across the modern mattress, satisfied that there were no bloodstains. She moved quickly, efficiently, silently, as she changed the sheets in the upstairs bedrooms . . . bedchambers . . . of Castle Smithson, as she had every day since her capture. Changing the sheets, working in the bedrooms at all, was a tricky proposition. She’d yet to be caught, yet to be raped. At least that she knew of. With the vampires’ ability to enthrall and steal memories, it was always possible she’d experienced things she didn’t remember.

  But she was nothing if not prosaic. If she didn’t remember, and had been left with no injuries, then nothing had happened. Period.

  The trouble was, if she stayed here long enough, something would happen. It was just a matter of time, she knew that. She’d already been bitten several times. That was unavoidable in a coven . . . kovena . . . of vampires. More than once, she’d been grabbed from behind as she walked through the halls, doing her chores. It never took long and didn’t hurt. As much as she hated to admit it, the sensation of vampire sucking was actually kind of pleasant . . . except when the vampire pulled out messily, dripping blood onto clean towels, and she had to send them back to the laundry.

  For the most part, though, she was a shadow, moving through the halls silently, drawing little or no attention. And she intended to keep it that way. When the time was right, she’d move silently right out of this castle, out of this hellhole, and find her way home.

  Her parents were frantic at her disappearance, she knew that. And she’d missed all of her classes for weeks. She’d have to reenroll next semester, which meant graduating a semester late. And if she did that, Galaxy Gaming might rescind the offer of employment they’d made to her. And to Zack.

  Zack.

  Pain slammed into her at the thought of him, making her gasp. The tears she’d so far managed to keep at bay burned her eyes. She tried so hard not to think of him, but he was with her always, his presence steadying her, giving her strength. Even though she knew he was probably dead.

  Poor Zack.

  The first time she saw him in the yard behind Castle Smithson hauling a wheelbarrow full of bricks, she’d felt such a tangle of emotions—joy, shock, regret, despair. Somehow, he’d become one of the missing, too. Eventually, days after he’d arrived, he’d caught sight of her and called to her. And the hurt in his voice when she’d hurried away, ignoring him, still cut her to the quick. But she knew what happened when vampires thought two slaves cared about one another. The pair became the sadistic vampires’ new favorite playthings.

  Zack had only ever thought of her as his best friend, but he was as loyal as they came and would have suffered if they’d hurt her in front of him. Her feelings for him went far beyond friendship and had since the first day he’d smiled at her. She loved the redheaded loon. And she’d been terrified that the vampires would see it.

  So she’d ignored him. And the next day, they’d sent him to the gladiator camp to be prepared for the Games. In a computer battle, Zack could beat anyone. But in real life, with real swords?

  The thought of him in that arena, facing a deadly opponent, was almost too much to bear.

  She pulled the satin coverlet over the bed, then replaced the colorful pillows. Top sheets and blankets were never required on vampire beds since the bloodsuckers didn’t sleep. Beds were for two things only—sex and feeding. Often at the same time, from what she’d seen. And heard.

  Picking up her dwindling pile of clean sheets, she slipped out of the room, heading for the next. She was halfway down the hall, when a man appeared at the top of the stairs. A vampire with hunger in his now-white-centered eyes. And he was staring right at her.

  She froze, her heart beating a fast, frantic rhythm. Maybe he’d only feed from her and not take her to one of the beds.

  He smiled, tipping his head back in pleasure, clearly a fear-feeder enjoying her anxiousness. Slowly, he lowered his head and peered at her curiously. “Why the fear, little human? Still taken aback by the eyes?” He smiled, revealing sharp twin incisors. “And the fangs? Have you ever felt them pierce the tender flesh between your legs?”

  Her heart rate spiked, and he felt it, his smile broadening.

  “I have,” a brash, tart, and wonderfully dear voice said behind her. “And what I like even more is some vampire mouth sucking on my huge-ass tits. Forget that scrawny-ass Asian. She’s flat as a board and as cold as you are. What you need is some warm, soft Jazlyn.”

  The heavyset, dark-skinned Jazlyn brushed past Lily, heading straight for the vampire.

  The vampire’s expression turned amused. “She fears me, Warm Soft Jazlyn. You don’t.”

  “No. But once you show her the real joys of vampire-loving, she’ll lose that fear. Which would be a shame, wouldn’t it? ’Sides, I’m in the mood for some vampire cock-loving. Ain’t never sixty-nined with a vampire.”

  Jazlyn was too wise, and far too experienced, for her eighteen years. Lily only had a vague idea of what a sixty-nine meant, but the vampire’s eyes lit with interest.

  “Come, then.”

  Jazlyn threw Lily a wink over her shoulder, then walked right up to the vampire and slid her hand between his legs. With a grin, he took that hand and led her into the nearest room and closed the door.

  Lily darted into the next bedroom, pulling the air in through her nose, fighting to settle her racing heart before she had every fear-feeder in the castle hunting her down.

  That was too close.

  She exhaled deeply, at once relieved and sad for her friend, although Jazlyn had assured her she really did love sex with the vampires. Despite Lily’s being three years older, Jazlyn had usurped the role of protective older sister the first night Lily arrived. She’d taken one look at Lily, and said, “Damn, girl! You still a virgin?” Lily hadn’t replied, but it hadn’t mattered. Jazlyn had gone on to tell her she hadn’t been a virgin since her cousin raped her when she was eleven. The girl was often prickly and tough, at least with others. But she was always there for Lily. They exchanged confidences on their pallets at night, and whatever extra food one or the other had managed to stash away. Most nights, they fell asleep pressed back to back, sharing body heat in the cold storeroom where the female slaves slept. And more than once, Lily had felt Jazlyn’s hand slip into hers, the girl-woman seeking a child’s reassurance that she wasn’t alone. That everything was going to be all right, when both of them knew nothing would ever be right again.

  Lily knew it was ridiculous to care about her virginity in a place like this when most were struggling just to hold on to their lives. But Jazlyn was fiercely determined she should protect it, especially after Lily had told her about Zack. Jazlyn refused to accept that he was gone, preferring to think of him as some romantic hero, a David who’d undoubtedly slain Goliath.

  But Zack was just a young man, and an inexperienced one at that. Lily had known he was the one for her the first time she met him. She’d recognized him on some gut-deep level, as if she’d always known him and had simply been waiting for him to show up in her life.

  He hadn’t recognized her in return, unfortunately. Not in the same way. As friends, yes. Totally. But he’d been dating a girl at the time and had continued to for a while longer. Even after he broke up with that girlfriend, he’d dated others, though never seriously. And less and less. In the past year and a half he’d dated no one, spending all of his time with her. But never once had he made a move to indicate she was anything but his best friend.

  She’d believed that eventually, when he was through with school and settled in hi
s career, he’d begin to think about finding a wife. And when that happened, when he was finally open to the idea of love and marriage, he’d realize what Lily had always known. That they belonged together.

  Now that would never happen. Because Zack was lost to her. Even if he hadn’t died in the Games, she didn’t have any idea how to find him. All she could do now was survive and find a way to escape this place. She would do it for her parents, who she knew were heartbroken at her disappearance. And she’d do it for Quinn, who had to be frantic at her brother’s vanishing.

  Mostly, she’d do it for Zack. Because as long as her love for him lived inside of her, Zack lived.

  Chapter Six

  Quinn took her seat beside Zack in the back of what appeared to be an old hay wagon, then turned so that Arturo could wrap a rope around her wrist to make it look like she was tied. The wagon was partially covered by a canopy stretched across the top of curved bows, falling to within eighteen inches of the wooden sidewalls on each side, allowing her a view if she ducked her head just a little bit.

  “Don’t fidget,” Arturo warned. “Or the ropes will fall off. They’re barely hanging on to your wrists.” When he was through, he moved to the other side of the wagon. As he reached through and “tied” Zack’s wrists, his gaze found her. “If anyone approaches, keep your eyes closed, cara. It would not do for anyone to see your eyes glow if your power sparks.”

  “I know, Vampire,” she said testily. “You’ve reminded me three times.”

  “You’re acting like a helicopter parent, Ax,” Micah chided, coming to stand at the foot of the wagon. “Hover, hover, hover. Quinn’s a smart girl.”

  Arturo grunted. “You haven’t seen her in the full throes of her power.” Truthfully, he had reason to be concerned. She was nearly sick with worry that they wouldn’t make it out of Gonzaga kovena lands . . . Cristoff’s lands . . . without being stopped. If anyone figured out who she was, and that Zack was her brother . . . The thought caught in her throat until she could barely breathe around it.

  Arturo rounded the wagon and reached for her, his hand curling around her knee. “Cara mia,” he said softly, “I’ll not let anything happen to you.”

  She swallowed, annoyed that he could feel her emotions. “Neither will I.”

  His mouth tightened just a fraction. With a nod, he straightened and turned to the two Traders who would drive the team of horses. “Off with you.”

  One of the Traders flicked the reins, and, a moment later, the wagon lurched forward. As they braced themselves against the sudden movement, Quinn and Zack exchanged wary, worried looks. So many things could go wrong, even if the two vampires really were wholly on their side this time.

  Quinn had been shocked by Arturo’s inviting the two Traders into his living room earlier. Her only experiences with them had been bad ones. But she supposed all Traders were no more coldhearted mercenaries than all humans were Mother Teresas. Arturo had introduced them as friends and told her they could be trusted. And so, for now, she’d reserve judgment. Allies might well make the difference between life and death in this place. Twice she’d struck out on her own in Vamp City, and twice she’d been caught. And that was before she had a price on her head. With Cristoff’s entire guard contingent searching for her, her situation was far more precarious.

  Plus, where would she go? If there was a safe haven anywhere in Vamp City, she didn’t know about it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d trust the vampires until they gave her a reason to doubt their motives. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye open for alternatives.

  The wagon rattled along the dirt road, the wheels hitting pits and rocks, knocking Quinn into the rails closest to the Traders often enough and hard enough that she was going to have bruises. At least she and Zack sat deep in the shadows, where they’d be the least likely to draw attention if anyone saw them.

  They’d left the city behind quickly and without incident—urban structures hadn’t extended much past downtown in 1870—and now traveled through the woods. The dead woods. The only trees that grew in V.C.—and they grew in abundance—were dead ones. Which twisted her scientific mind into knots. But there was only so much that science could explain in a world created from magic.

  Quinn ducked her head, peering out, wishing she could see some sign of Arturo and Micah in the dark. She’d feel better if she knew they were close by. Arturo had promised they’d follow at a distance, keeping watch without making it obvious they were associated with the Traders and their human cargo. And as the wagon had pulled out of Arturo’s yard, she’d seen him and Micah mounting horses, so she had to believe the trip was going as planned. A plan that, hopefully, she wasn’t going to have to kill Arturo over.

  On the bright side, she and Arturo had developed some kind of link when he first sucked her blood—an unusual link that allowed him to sense her emotions and allowed him to speak to her telepathically. She wasn’t sure why it had formed. Maybe because of her magic. To her knowledge, he never heard her thoughts in return, so if they got into trouble, she wouldn’t be able to call for help. But the moment her terror spiked, he’d know.

  She shivered at the thought that he’d been right across the hall, in Mike’s apartment, on and off the past couple of weeks. Had he felt her dreaming about him? And she had, on too many occasions, dreamed he was back in her arms and in her bed. Heat began to rise into her cheeks. Of course he had. No wonder he’d been so quick to want a few minutes alone with her.

  A faint light caught her eye in the distance, and she peered out again, recognizing the windows of a house. She wondered who lived there. Vampires? Werewolves? That probably depended on where they were.

  From what she’d learned on her previous visits, Vamp City was in the shape of a disc, its borders a circle extending approximately three miles in every direction from the spot they called the Focus, where Phineas Blackstone had originally summoned the magic to create it. Vamp masters had laid claim to land around the outer circle for their kovenas, the vamp equivalent of mob families. The unclaimed lands between them were called the Nod. The wild and dangerous inner lands were called the Crux, home to the werewolves and the Rippers.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Zack asked quietly.

  “No clue. How are you feeling?”

  “Hungry.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes, then smiled to herself. He’d eaten enough for four men less than two hours ago. Zack was definitely feeling better.

  “There’ll be food where we’re going,” one of the Traders commented, his voice low and scratchy. Apparently, Traders not only had good night vision but good hearing. They ought to, considering the size of those ears.

  A moment later, the same Trader spoke again. “We’ve got company coming.”

  Unfriendly company, if his tone was anything to go by. Beneath the sound of the wagon and their own horses, she heard another rhythmic pounding. Horse hooves.

  “Rippers or werewolves?” she asked quietly.

  “Neither. Quiet, now.”

  Neither meant they were vampires. Emoras. Possibly Cristoff’s men.

  Her pulse began to pound though not yet tear out of her chest. A healthy dose of fear wasn’t a bad thing if any of these vamps were fear-feeders. There would be no hiding from them, and a human tied in the back of a Trader’s wagon should be afraid. Very, very afraid.

  Her mind spun with options. She still had her weapons. But reaching for one meant untangling her hands from the ropes and giving away the fact that she wasn’t really a captive. Nor could she afford for her power to start glowing in her eyes. If she started the fight, she and her allies might be able to end it, but maybe not before one of these vampires got away to spread the tale that Arturo and Micah were in league with the sorceress.

  No, her best defense was to play the role she’d been given—captive—and trust Arturo to do what he did best: lie.

  The sound of the horses’ hooves grew steadily louder until it sounded like there must be
a dozen of them. But when the dark forms finally coalesced, circling the wagon, she could make out only four. In the faint moonlight, three appeared to be males, or were at least dressed like males. The one in the long split skirt and fancy white blouse was clearly a female.

  The Trader called, “Whoa,” bringing the team, wagon, and Quinn to a lurching stop.

  One of the vamps climbed off his horse and leaped into the wagon, vampire-fast, sending Quinn’s heart squeezing into her throat and her hand itching to grab for her gun.

  Arturo, this would be a good time to make an appearance.

  The vamp reached forward and grabbed Zack’s hair, wrenching her brother’s head back, as if baring his neck for the strike.

  Quinn, furious, clenched her hands into fists to keep from staking him. A tingling heat flared in her palms and began to crawl up her arms, beneath her skin.

  Shit. Her eyes. She squeezed them closed, praying she’d done it in time. If she hadn’t, she’d surely have heard the vampire’s exclamation. Unfortunately, keeping her eyes closed did nothing to calm the growing need to protect her brother. Which only made the power beneath her skin burn hotter.

  Beside her, she could hear Zack struggling against the vampire’s hold. Zack sounded mad. At the first sound of his pain, she was pulling her gun, her secrets be damned.

  The vampire called to his friends. “This one’s got some height to him, but little muscle mass. Still, he could be of use.”

  “Take him,” one of his companions replied.

  “These two are already sold,” the deep-voiced Trader said calmly. “I’m just delivering them.”

  The female vamp laughed. “Looks like you’re going to have to pay back the money then. Finders, keepers,” she added in a singsong voice.

  Quinn fought to calm herself, to douse the power now burning in her veins. Beside her, Zack grunted, and she felt him moving, or being pulled, away from her. The soft thud of Zack’s ropes hitting the wooden floor of the wagon sent a bolt of cold fear shooting up her spine. The creepy tingling beneath her skin grew worse.