“What is that?” Jay asked, staring wide-eyed at the oncoming ship. “Who are they?”
He must never have had contact with this particular faction, having lived in New York all his life. House Lamonia controlled the east coast. Lucky wolf. I doubted he’d have lived as long in Chicago.
“That,” I said grimly. “Is the sigil for House Grieves.”
chapter
14
SELLER’S REMORSE WAS A BITCH.
Even if it had saved our lives below, I now wished I’d kept every single bullet. Ten enchanted rounds wouldn’t have done much against the army bearing down on us, but damn it would have been something. Four of us were pitted against possibly hundreds of vampires and knowing House Grieves’ propensity for warfare, they weren’t going to be unarmed like some of the mooks from House Lamonia.
“Get off of the boat,” I said, whirling to face Jay and Bly.
They blinked back at me in shock. Jay’s hackles rose and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. Bly whipped her head back in forth in clear denial. I shoved at her shoulder.
“Go,” I urged, pointing back towards the island. “As your pack leader I command it. You have to get out of here. House Grieves isn’t going to hold you as hostages. They’ll skin you alive and then toss your corpses overboard. I won’t be responsible for that.”
Bly’s dark eyes slid to Dominic. He had leaned most of his weight against the nearest bulkhead. His breathing came in shallow pants and I knew that the effort of maintaining the blast had taken a lot out of him. Even if he had the magical juice to produce another blast, it wasn’t going to be enough to kill all of them.
“Go back, please. Swim to shore and tell the others we’ll be back soon,” I said, eyeing the Galleon as it slid closer to us. At this distance I could see the canons ready for action, pointed at the side of the ironclad. The cannonballs wouldn’t do much against the side of the ship, but if they managed to skim a shot over the top, the speed and velocity could rip a limb. Or worse.
A crack of thunderous sound split the still air and rendered me temporarily deaf. Years ago, when I’d been an operative for the Trust, I’d always worn protective gear to keep gunfire from impairing my hearing. Recently, I hadn’t had the luxury of doing so. Even if I’d had top-grade earplugs, I was pretty sure they’d do nothing against the sound issuing from the Galleon.
A black shape came hurtling over the rails and sailed over our heads. It impacted the deck four yards behind us and ricocheted off, leaving a sizable dent before smashing through the railing and disappearing out of sight. Bly let out a surprised whine and skittered back a few steps. That sound was enough to make up my mind.
For the second time that night, I seized Jay and Bly by the back of their necks. I launched first one wolf and then the other off the deck with a throw worthy of a major league ballplayer. Both wolves let out startled yelps as they followed the cannon ball’s trajectory over the railing and toward the water below.
Without pausing to think, I retrieved a twisted piece of the railing and held it aloft. The weight and curve of the steel reminded me a little of a scimitar. It would have to do. I tore a long strip off of my sodden shirt, using it to hold my makeshift weapon and the useless Beretta in place against my waist. The cold night air caressed the damp skin of my midriff, sending goose flesh popping along my body.
My heart was pounding and I glanced back at Dom. There was no time to regroup or think this through. Valerius simmered beneath my skin like a plague, raging to get loose and wreak destruction against our enemies. This time, I was inclined to let him.
I got a running start and leaped off the deck, clearing the railing. I entered free fall a few seconds later and executed a flawless swan dive toward the deck of the Galleon below. I got a fleeting glimpse of peeling letters proclaiming the ship The Red Death before I landed.
I took the brunt of the impact on my shoulder and rolled, coming up into a crouch. The first vampire to come at me got stabbed through the eye. I tore a chunk off his face when I pulled out the blade. Shadow and flame clung to me as I whirled around the deck, dispatching three more vampires until my arm was slick with blood. The rest fell back, giving me a chance to get my bearings. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I spun to find another vampire, holding an honest-to-God saber in his hand.
He’d decked himself out in a billowing shirt, light blue overcoat, a tricorne hat of tight brown trousers. If he’d been wearing an earring or peg-leg the pirate look would have been complete. I huffed out a disgusted breath. What was it with the vamps and their costumes? Did every occasion need to be a source of melodrama? We met in a clash of metal that sent sparks dancing across the deck. Dimly I heard Dominic’s panicked shout from the deck of the ironclad, asking what the hell I was doing. I wouldn’t have answered, even if I’d been able.
The way I saw it, I had two options. Stay aboard the ironclad and float helplessly in the water while we waited to be boarded, or take the fight straight to the enemy. Always better to be proactive than reactive, as my mother would have said.
I lashed out with my blade, but he deflected easily. This vampire was no slouch with a sword, and I pegged his age somewhere around the four or five-century mark. Skill like this came from training, and it appeared that blue overcoat had a lot of it. He was unfairly pretty, as most vampires were. With dark, wavy hair that fell almost to his shoulders, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a Harlequin novel, not commanding a ship. Probing dark eyes watched my every move and anticipated my blows, sending them glancing off harmlessly.
Standing just under six feet tall, he had the advantage of height and reach. The sucking void of his aura hit me like a physical blow, sending me staggering backward. I recovered just in time to block his next blow from spilling my guts all over the wooden deck.
“Fuck,” I muttered, staring wide-eyed at my attacker. I’d felt a comparable aura only once in my lifetime, when I’d met with Algerone Lamonia in his New York mansion. Putting that together with the prowess and his age there was only one person this man could be.
“Barabbas Grieves,” I muttered, my blood chilling in my veins.
The vampire’s smile made my stomach do a flip and desire clench in my belly. The gleam in his dark eyes was joyful and the expression he wore almost puckish. The asshole was enjoying this.
About thirty vampires stood nearby, manning their various positions. They watched the battle with eager eyes, some leaning forward as if they wanted to join in the fight. I didn’t think that they’d cross their master and poke me full of holes just yet.
“I’m flattered you know of me, Iron Heart,” he said, inclining his head respectfully toward me. It was the most courteous gesture a vampire had ever shown me. Odd that it should come from the most bloodthirsty of them all. One didn’t climb to the top of the pile in House Grieves unless they were absolutely vicious.
It probably shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew my name. I’d killed enough of his Barons during my tenure with Landon to have garnered his attention. I parried another blow, this time raising one booted foot to slam into his midsection. He either knew how to take the blow with stoicism or had abs of steel, because he didn’t even flinch. The force of the blow did send him back several feet and allowed me to go on the offensive.
“My reputation proceeds me, I take it?”
His fangs gleamed in the low light, seeming to grow sharper as his smile widened. He batted my next blow away casually. “Oh yes. It’s a shame that worthless bastard did this to you. You would have been a welcome addition to House Grieves.”
“Why does everyone keep offering to turn me?” I grumbled. First Ashby and his boss, then Geoffrey, and now this guy. What innate quality made them believe I’d make a good monster? It was a philosophical question I’d need to debate another time.
A thump and a muttered curse nearby told me that Dominic had joined the fray. For a frightened half-second I thought the rest of the vampires
would descend on him and eat him alive. A sharp look from Barabbas kept them all where they were, sullenly manning The Red Death.
Dominic had followed my lead and seized a broken piece of the railing. His was largely straight and only tapered off into a point toward the end.
If the increased odds bothered Barabbas, he didn’t show it.
“What are you doing here, Grieves?” Dominic snarled.
The vampire’s gaze flattened into an unfriendly stare and for the first time since facing off against either of us, he appeared serious. “Striking first, of course. If the meddling mages and Lamonia scum think we’ll go quietly, they have another thing coming. We’ll start by destroying their weapon and their fleet. Then I believe we’ll set fire to the Palace of Westminster and burn out that insolent Trust committee.”
Gulp. How much did Barabbas know about Algerone’s plan? Was he aware that I was the linchpin?
“Why are you fighting us then?” Dominic snapped. “Do you think we’re a willing party to this? We want to see Lamonia fall just as badly as you do.”
Barabbas’ dark, compelling gaze flicked from one to the other of us for a second, as if trying to catch either of us lying. His sword lowered just a fraction. Spotting my opportunity, I struck for his exposed neck. If I could get in a blow at just the right angle, I could sever his spinal cord and pulp the bloodthirsty leader of House Grieves.
A pale-long fingered hand shot out and seized me in mid-strike, hauling me to him by the front of my shirt. Smacking into his chest felt like slamming my back into concrete. Arms with the strength of steel bands snaked around me, holding me against Barabbas’ body. Only the Beretta M9 saved my ass from grinding against his front.
“Is that so?” Barabbas purred into my ear. The melodic tone made my body relax just a fraction, despite any warning from my mind. “In that case, let’s talk. But first…”
The saber flashed in front of my eyes, its deadly blade coming to rest inches from my jugular. But rather than the life-ending slash I feared and expected, his blade made a cut in his own wrist.
Then he pressed the bloody appendage to my mouth, sending a lukewarm rush of blood sliding down my throat.
chapter
15
BLOODING.
The practice of initiating a human to become a vampire servant. Vampire blood bolstered the body’s immune system and came with a plethora of other benefits.
I’d gotten an overview of the process in college and what I’d learned then had horrified me enough. I’d never understood why any human would willingly drink a vampire’s blood, no matter how much strength or acuity they gained from doing so.
Now that it was happening to me, I understood even less. Barabbas’ blood tasted like a day-old semi-refrigerated Slurpee from hell. Coppery blood washed into my mouth and spilled into the back of my throat. It ought to have been revolting. Instead, there was a note of sweetness to it that compelled me to swallow more, though my mind screamed protests. Standing so close to the vampire felt like being erased, bit by bit as his aura wore at mine.
Barabbas held me firmly in place until I’d downed at least a pint worth of blood. I was vaguely aware of Dom shouting, and trying to break through a barrier of undead buccaneers. When he released me I staggered, and would have fallen to my knees if Dom hadn’t caught me. The warm crackle of his energy brought me back to myself and reminded me exactly what I’d just done. I bent double and retched, trying in vain to bring up the blood. Though my stomach pitched, my body refused to reject the substance.
“Try all you like, Iron Heart. I doubt Valerius lets that meal go easily.”
The vampire’s voice drew me out of the trance-like state of horror. He was smiling once more, clearly unrepentant.
“What did you just say?”
He’d known about Valerius and decided to fight me anyway? I couldn’t decide if he was stupid or had the biggest, brassiest balls in history.
“Your demon,” he said curtly, sheathing the sword. The atmosphere on the deck had relaxed somewhat, all the vampires sinking into more casual positions as they stood by watching the drama unfold. “We know of Lamonia’s plan and that you are his weapon. We won’t kill you at this time Iron Heart.”
The not when we can use you instead hovered ominously between us.
I waited for the demon’s palpable rage at being treated, once more like a tool by a lesser being. It didn’t come. In fact, there was nothing but ringing silence where Valerius’ presence normally resided in my head.
For the first time since he’d nested in my body, I panicked.
When I landed on the vessel, I’d been buzzing with energy. It was like someone had flipped the off switch. Were my new abilities gone completely? With him removed, I was entirely powerless against a group of murderous vampire thugs.
Barabbas watched distress play across my face with a cruel smile. “Difficult being purely mortal again, isn’t it?”
“What did you do to me?” I demanded, lunging toward him. My arms and legs felt like cooked spaghetti and even that small exertion felt like running a mile. Dominic’s arms reeled me back, keeping me from taking a pathetically weak swing at the vampire’s smug, handsome face.
“All in good time, Iron Heart,” Barabbas purred. “For now, you’ll be escorted downstairs. While I admire a woman who can wear the blood of her enemies well, I don’t think you’ll want to wear it where we’re going. I’ll have Flint bring you something appropriate.”
I glared at him, an angry flush creeping up my neck when I realized I was being laughed at by every single vampire on the ship. The urge to kill something came back tenfold. If I’d had any bullets left, I’d have unloaded a clip into the vampire’s face for the insult.
He turned on his heel and strode away from us.
“We’ll discuss things over dinner, Iron Heart. Ta for now.”
***
Dinner was held three hours later, after Barabbas and his men finished making mincemeat of the forces Lamonia had left behind. I wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed the feat, as their ships mostly appeared to be variants on the galleon. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the fangs, though. If there were no vampires guarding the island, the wolves could make a bid for the mainland unimpeded.
I staunchly refused the ruffly abomination I was offered and demanded clothes similar to Dominic’s. In the end we both looked like rejects from a Renaissance festival. I had to admit that I secretly liked the open-chested peasant shirt on Dominic, and thought that the overcoat was rather fetching, in its way. I’d still have preferred him in full military gear and wearing his trench coat, but beggars can’t be choosers.
The vampires, sexist bastards that they were, insisted that I wear a wool skirt rather than the layers-thick dress. I conceded with poor grace and donned the thing, happy to find that I’d also been offered a sword belt. It appeared I’d be allowed to carry a weapon sometime in the near future.
Dominic led me to the captain’s quarters with an arm in mine. I still hadn’t fully recovered from losing Valerius’ strength. I felt as shaky as a newborn giraffe and it scared the shit out of me. How the hell was I supposed to face down these monsters if I could hardly stand?
The interior of the room was all dark wood, broken up occasionally by the odd splash of color. Heavy drapes had been pulled to keep sunlight from pouring through the row of windows set along one wall. There were several rugs made from animals I couldn’t name. The room seemed to be littered with trophies that the captain had snatched from his defeated foes. Weapons, gold, and memorably even a jar of human teeth.
Most of the room was dominated by a long mahogany table. The scents rolling off of it made my stomach twist and, for the first time in ages, I found myself hungry. Ravenous, even. Ignoring polite dinner etiquette I seized a roll from an overflowing basket of bread and bit into it. The warm, flaky pastry tasted like heaven. My poor abuela was probably doing somersaults in her grave, appalled a
t my bad manners, but I couldn’t seem to stop. Once my roll had been hastily chewed and swallowed, I was already reaching for another.
Barabbas didn’t appear offended by it. He watched me curiously as I demolished the rest of the bread. He was sans victim tonight, thankfully. I’d been afraid that joining him for dinner would entail watching him savagely rip into some poor sap’s throat. Instead, he appeared to have meal in an overlarge wine glass. He whirled the thick red liquid around the glass like a wine aficionado before raising the glass to his lips and staining them crimson.
Dominic sank into a chair near mine and peered warily at the fish on his plate. Barabbas seemed heartily amused by his reluctance.
“It’s yellowfin, boy. I assure you it’s quite edible. If I’d wanted to kill you, I would not choose a method so cowardly as poison.”
Dominic didn’t seem assured by that line of reasoning, but dug out a forkful of the fish anyhow. We’d barely been fed aboard the ironclad, so he had to be hungry.
This was just bizarre, sitting across from one of the most dangerous vampires in existence, calmly discussing a meal. Everything I’d thought I’d known had flipped on its head in the last few weeks. When was I going to stop living in this twisted parallel universe and return to normalcy? I seized my fork and dug a sizable chunk out of the fish on my plate, stuffing it into my mouth.
“Why am I so damned hungry?” I mumbled around a mouthful of fish.
“Your body’s equilibrium reasserting itself, if I’d wager,” Barabbas said. “The demon has been repressing your body’s needs and feeding you its energy instead. Without the demon to maintain that balance, your body must restore energy through other means.”
The reminder of what he’d done stymied my appetite for a moment and I set my fork on my plate. “What did you do to me? That was no ordinary blooding.”
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 32
