But they’d taken only a couple of steps when a voice sounded behind them.
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
Quinn didn’t have to turn around to know who’d spoken. She recognized the voice.
Fabian.
At the sound of Fabian’s voice, Quinn dropped her gaze, fast, aware that if her eyes weren’t glowing yet, they might start at any moment. She had no idea what Vintry meant by her magic’s exploding, but whatever he meant, it couldn’t be good. Not in a place like this.
She could feel the energy beginning to flow beneath her skin, not burning like usual but building, like steam looking for a way out.
Arturo spun around, his manner take charge and colonel-like. “The sorceress has vanished. We are looking for her.”
“My men will search for her.” Fabian’s tone was sharp with annoyance and possessed more than a hint of cunning. The balance of power between the two of them had just shifted back into his hands, and he knew it.
Cold fingers curled around Quinn’s arm. Fabian’s fingers. “While they search, you two will join me. And feed me.” He jerked Quinn off her feet, yanking her against him, palming her breast through her shirt. “This time, however, I will join you. I will have my cock inside of her.”
Fabian gripped her face tight, forcing her to look at him. She tensed for his shock, terrified her eyes had begun to glow—that the Slava, Jillian’s, eyes had begun to glow. But his expression revealed nothing but hard satisfaction.
“If my touch is going to make you sick, slave, then I’ll tape your mouth closed. Which would be a shame. Your mouth is just one of the things I want to fuck.”
She had to struggle not to spit in his face. All of a sudden, she began to shake as the energy built inside of her far more quickly and violently than it ever had before. A strange sensation began to bubble beneath her flesh, as if the skin were about to fly off her bones. As if she were about to explode.
The floor beneath her feet began to shake.
Shit, shit, shit.
The first blast sent them all flying a good fifteen feet. Fabian pulled her with him as he flew, and she landed on top of him, knocking the breath out of herself. She slammed her eyes closed in case they were glowing and thanked whatever guardian angel looked out for sorceresses that Fabian had been holding on to her, or she might have been the only one left standing, which would have certainly given her away. As it was, all of them had been thrown to the ground—Arturo and Fabian’s guards, as well as several Slavas.
Fabian surged to his feet vampire-fast.
“The fae,” he muttered. “He’s dead.”
Quinn blinked. He thought the blast had been Vintry’s doing? She remembered someone’s saying something about a death wind.
Easing to her feet with her eyes all but closed, Quinn waited for Arturo to find her. But the pressure inside her was building all over again, much faster than before. The second blast erupted with no warning. Again, the vampires flew. This time, however, Quinn was prepared and dropped to her knees. Maybe she’d just stay there.
Strong arms gathered her close. Arturo’s voice rang out close behind her. “That fae is going to bring the house crashing down!” She could hear the hypnotic persuasion weaving through his words. “Run!”
They did. When the third blast hit, Arturo slammed into the wall, keeping her tight against him, but protected. The plaster began to rain down from the ceiling. Pans and dishes crashed to the floor.
They were nearly to the door when the fourth hit. The windows broke. Rising, Arturo flung her over his shoulder, opened the back door, and ran.
“Keep your eyes closed, tesoro.”
“I’m trying. What about Micah?”
“He should be waiting with the mounts.”
“I’ll kill the horses, if I knock them around like this.”
“Maybe not. And we have no choice. They’re our best chance of getting out of here.”
Moments later, she was seated behind Arturo, her hands tight around his waist as her magic let loose yet again. The horses lurched, but righted themselves quickly, then took off, spooked by the sound of glass . . . or crystal . . . shattering all along the back curve of the wedding cake.
“They’ve already opened the gates,” Arturo told her. “Everyone’s fleeing.” And a moment later, they were flying across the open ground. When no more blasts came for several minutes, Quinn lifted a hand to her face, opened one eye, and saw no glow against her palm.
“We made it,” Micah said, as the two vampires brought their horses back to a walk. “Did you free your power, Quinn?”
Quinn grunted. “Something’s gotten loose, that’s for sure.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure how to tell.”
She’d better figure it out soon. Tomorrow was the equinox.
“This isn’t gonna work,” Jazlyn hissed.
“If you believe it won’t,” Lily replied quietly, “then it won’t. You must believe it will.” They’d escaped the castle more than two hours ago and had been crouched behind the outdoor kiln ever since. So far, no one had ventured back there, but it was just a matter of time. It was dusk in the real world, Lily was fairly certain. She’d quickly picked up the nuances of light in this place—the black of night, which turned to twilight during the day. In the in-between times, dawn and dusk, the air took on a different quality, almost shimmering. And she was pretty sure the vampires’ eyesight was just a little off at that time.
Conveniently, a Trader wagon arrived late afternoon most days, remaining at the castle for an hour or two while the Traders dropped off their goods and took orders for more, and often spent a little time in the kitchen eating and drinking and sometimes having sex with one of the slaves.
The Traders who’d come today had been inside, by Lily’s calculation, for a little over an hour and a half. And the male slaves had just been called in for their evening meal. The yard was almost empty.
If they were going to sneak into the Traders’ wagon, as was her plan, they’d never get a better chance.
“It’s time, Jazlyn.” Lily squeezed the girl’s arm. “We can do this.”
Jazlyn’s pulse leaped beneath Lily’s fingers. Lily had never seen the girl so nervous, which boded ill in a castle swarming with fear-feeding, and fear-sensing, vampires.
“You have to calm down.”
“I can’t! If they catch us . . .”
“They’ll sell us to the auction, which they’re going to do anyway. There’s no downside to this escape attempt.” Lily knew that wasn’t true. The vampires could choose any number of horrible ways to make an example of them, but mentioning that to Jazlyn now would only make things worse. “Come on, Jaz. Let’s go.”
The wagon sat twenty feet from the back of the kiln and was still half-filled with goods destined for another house or castle. There were places to hide. They would never get a better opportunity.
“You go first, Lily. I’ll follow.”
“Jaz . . .”
The girl turned on her, her mouth hard. “I said, go.”
“You’re not coming.” Lily could see it in her eyes.
Jazlyn’s toughness melted, her eyes filling with tears. “This is your chance to get away, not mine. I can’t climb into any wagon without spooking the horses, I can’t fit into any hidey-hole inside. They’ll see me the minute they look. And I know they’ll catch me, Lily. I know it. And my pounding heart is going to give us both away. You go.”
“Not without you.”
The toughness hardened her face, then melted again. “Yes without me. You’re a female ninja. You can disappear, and they’ll never find you, and I need you to do that.” The tears began to slip down her cheeks. “Don’t you see, Lily? Don’t you see? I can’t watch you stripped and beaten. I can’t watch you get killed like I did my sister. I can’t.” Her eyes flashed, her mouth turning mean even as tears glistened on her lashes. “I can take whatever those motherfuckers throw at me, but not that. You got to escape
for me.”
Tears burned in Lily’s eyes, and she threw her arms around Jazlyn’s neck, feeling strong arms circle her and squeeze her tight in return. She searched for words and found none. So she slipped out of Jazlyn’s grip and stole, silently, into the wagon, curling up behind one of the crates beneath a beat-up old tarp.
Only minutes later, she heard the sound of voices. The Traders’, most likely, and one vampire whose voice she recognized from his constant bellowing in the yards. Her pulse began to race, and she struggled to bring it back down. Because she knew that that particular vampire was absolutely a fear-feeder.
As she felt the wagon lurch with the weight of the returning Traders, the vampire made a sound of surprise that boded ill and made her stomach cramp with dread.
“I taste your fear, human.” The voice sounded so close, she knew he was peering into the wagon. “Show yourself at once, blood sack, or you’re going to feel my lash.”
Jazlyn’s squeal cut through the pounding in Lily’s ears. “I don’t want to go to the slave auction!” Jazlyn cried, her voice growing louder, closer. She was running right up to the vampire! “Don’t make me, please don’t make me. I’ll take your lash, or your fangs, or your cock. Just don’t send me to that auction!”
The girl sounded hysterical. But Lily knew better. She was covering for Lily, making the vampire think it was her fear he’d tasted instead of Lily’s.
“Go on!” the vampire called, and a moment later, the wagon began to move. Jazlyn cried out, this time in pain, this time for real.
Lily began to cry. As the distance between her and Castle Smithson grew, her tears fell in earnest, and she cried for Jazlyn, and for Zack, and for all the other girls she’d lived with these past weeks, many of whom were destined to suffer terribly. But not for herself. She refused to cry for herself. Because some way, somehow, she was going home.
When her tears were spent, she wiped her face and listened hard as the wagon rattled over rough ground.
With Jazlyn’s help, she’d escaped Castle Smithson, but this was only the first of many challenges, she suspected. If this were an old-time computer game, she’d have completed only the first level.
If the Traders found her in the back of their wagon, or saw her when she tried to escape, she’d either be returned to Smithson or sold directly to the slave auction.
And whatever Jazlyn had suffered helping Lily escape would have been for nothing.
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn clung to Arturo, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as she rode behind him on the horse. She was exhausted, worn-out by lack of sleep, by the bursts of power, and by the stress of keeping secrets and staying alive in an enemy stronghold. But she felt utterly exhilarated, too. Not only had they succeeded in finding Vintry and getting him to help as much as he could, but she was intrigued by his claim that she was the Healer, whatever that meant. And on a far more basic level, she was beginning to realize she enjoyed the rush of adrenaline. Escaping out from under the nose of a vampire master on a racing horse, with her goal accomplished and her secret intact, had been one of the most exciting things she’d ever done.
For the time being, the magic blasts seemed to have stopped. A couple of times, as they’d ridden, she’d pointed her palm or finger at a fallen branch and tried to make something happen—exactly what she wasn’t sure. Maybe fly, maybe burst into flame. Just a bit of a quiver would have been nice. She’d thought that with her magic exploding, she’d have some ability to wield it. And maybe she would, once she figured out how.
“Are you still awake back there?” Arturo asked.
“Barely. What are we going to do now?”
“Good question. Until we know what you can do, and can be certain you’re done blasting, we can’t risk the humans at Neo’s. Or the vampires, for that matter. The whole house could come down.”
“Is there somewhere else I can go?”
“Neo has safe houses scattered all over V.C.,” Micah said. “He’ll know of somewhere safe.”
“I have to see Zack.”
“When we reach Neo’s, I would suggest you remain outside, cara. I’ll bring Zack out to you.”
“How are you feeling, Quinn?” Micah asked. “Do you feel any different? More powerful?”
Even as tired as she felt, the power continued to flow beneath her skin like a creek beneath a thin layer of ice. “It’s hard to say. Before, the power came and went, and when it started to rise, it hurt. It’s never left me this time. But it doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel like it’s rising. More like it’s part of me now, if that makes any sense.”
Arturo reached back and squeezed her knee. “You need to test it, to learn what you can do. We’ll work on that once you’ve gotten some sleep.”
“She may get a chance to do that right now,” Micah said quietly, his voice suddenly razor-sharp. “We’ve got company.”
Quinn jerked upright, her gaze following Micah’s. Indistinct shapes loomed on the hill ahead, in between the trees. Four of them. Men.
“Werewolves?” she asked.
“Rippers.”
Adrenaline flooded her body all over again, washing away her exhaustion.
As they cleared the trees, she could see them more clearly. The four were on foot and looked like they’d just walked off the streets of D.C.—dressed in jeans, tees, and jackets.
“How do you know they’re Rippers?” she asked.
“Look at their eyes,” Arturo murmured.
She squinted, frowning. “They’re red,” she said with surprise. Red where the whites should be. “Does that mean they’re hungry? Or are their eyes always like that?”
“The red presages violence. It means they intend to attack.”
“Why? Can they tell I’m human?”
“No, we’re too far. Their olfactory senses are sharper than an Emora’s, but they are not that pronounced. No, they attack because they think they can. They outnumber us. And Rippers hate Emoras.”
“We hunt them,” Micah told her. “Hunting Rippers in D.C is one of my primary, and most satisfying, jobs for Gonzaga kovena. Not only are they monsters, but they’re a danger to our race. They’re careless with their human kills.”
“Are these four trapped in Vamp City, now?”
“Probably. Any vampire—Emora or Ripper—who was here when the magic broke is trapped.”
“Be prepared to grab the reins, Quinn,” Arturo said quietly.
“You’re leaving?”
“The moment the battle engages, take the horse and go. Call to your wolves for escort if you can.”
She was glad he’d warned her because a moment later, the four Rippers disappeared in a blur. And then Arturo was gone and she was alone on the horse, sitting too far back.
The horse whinnied and sidestepped, and she grabbed the pommel. As the sound of snarls and the clank of steel erupted on either side of her, she struggled into the saddle, grabbed the reins, and inelegantly kicked the horse into gear.
But just as she thought she’d made her escape, movement ahead caught her eye. She saw the red first. And then the forms of more than half a dozen more Rippers as they stepped out from behind the trees. Holy hell. Several of them grinned, their fangs longer than Arturo’s or Micah’s, and sharper, their eyes as red as blood and cold with the promise of death.
The power beneath her flesh surged harder as her heart began to thud in her ears. If only she still had her stakes! Instead, she lifted her hand, attempting to channel that power. Aiming her palm at the middle Ripper, she willed him to fly backward.
To her amazed delight, he did, landing a good ten feet back with a shout of surprise.
She grinned, excitement sparking inside her. For the first time, she’d successfully called the power when she needed it. And without pain. This was going to be fun. But as she shifted her hand to aim at another, the Rippers blurred and were gone. Damn speedy vampires.
A heartbeat later, something slammed into her hard, knocking her off the horse
and the knife out of her hand. She hit the ground back first in a blast of fiery pain. The breath left her body. Something landed on top of her.
Fangs sunk into her throat.
Shit, shit, shit.
Her mind went blank as instinct kicked in and she grabbed hold of the head latched onto her and . . . to her utter amazement . . . jerked it away. As if the vampire who’d attacked her was a seventy-pound weakling.
He stared at her, stunned. She slammed her palms against his shoulders and pushed him, hard, then stared wide-eyed when he flew back, landing on his butt by her feet.
Holy shit.
In a blur, he was standing over her, half-grinning, half-snarling. But not, she noticed, attacking. Not yet. Had she really just pushed him off her?
Quinn stared at him in shock, lifting one hand to the sticky wetness on her neck, aiming the other at him. He blurred to her right a good six feet. Quinn jumped to her own feet, rising far more easily than she’d expected to, and faced him.
He blurred, gripping her around the waist from behind, his fangs once more sinking into her shoulder. Lifting her knee, Quinn slammed her heel back into her opponent’s and heard the incredibly satisfying sound of cracking bone.
The vampire released her with a roar. She spun, leading with her elbow, and knocked him flat. This was like some kind of dream.
She was freaking Buffy!
But just as she was beginning to think she might really be Superwoman, she was knocked to the ground again, this time by three vampires. And though she managed to temporarily dislodge one or the other, they just kept returning, two biting either side of her neck, one sinking his fangs into her upper thigh right through her jeans.
With fear tearing through her, and the knowledge that she only had moments to get them off before they drained her dry, the power beneath her flesh ran faster, harder. But though she pushed and bucked and willed her power to shove them away, nothing happened.
Her heart began to thunder in her ears. She wasn’t helpless, dammit. She was not helpless. She had the power to save herself; she just had to find the way to call it.
Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02] Page 21
