Tarnished Prophecy: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Soul Dance Book 3)

by Ann Gimpel

  Gregor didn’t hesitate. He bounded through the open door, gesturing for them to follow. Sure enough, the same SS were headed right toward the open door with another of the coffin-sized boxes suspended between them.

  What the hell were they? In Dachau, the SS hadn’t bothered with caskets for dead prisoners. And then it hit her. These must be for vampires. Maybe the prison included a woodworking shop.

  How convenient.

  Her inner voice was droll, but it took effort to mask her horror at how closely vampires were entwined with the Reich.

  Ilona forced her attention away from the caskets and took in the prison camp. It didn’t look much different from Dachau or Esterwegen, the place Aron had been. A quick intake of breath from her brother told her he remembered his imprisonment all too well. All the camps stank of urine and shit with a sickly-sweet overlay of death and rot.

  Ilona swallowed a snort. Vampire heaven. Kind of like turning pigs loose in a garbage dump. Were the rest of the groups inside? She scanned the sky. Meara overflying the camp was their sign to begin once everyone was in position. So far, the vulture wasn’t there.

  Prisoners plodded past on one side of them, herded by guards wielding bullwhips with rifles slung over their shoulders. No one cast a second glance their way, and Ilona breathed a little easier. The worrisome element that could sense them would be vampires, and at least so far Ilona hadn’t picked up their rotten emanations.

  More prisoners streamed by. One woman snapped her head up and stared right at Ilona. The black-haired woman had to be Rom. Ilona shook her head and risked telepathy. “Say nothing. We’re not here.”

  The woman ignored Ilona’s warning, broke out of line, and started toward them. A guard dragged her back, landing a blow across the backs of her legs with his whip. The woman shrieked and fell to her knees in the dirt crying. “The devils are here.” She pointed. “Shifter devils. I tell you true. Shoot them before they drag us into Hell with them.”

  Gregor herded them forward, but the woman’s cries followed. “The shifters are moving. Don’t let them get—”

  The harsh reverberation from a pistol fired at short range battered Ilona. Outrage flooded her. They’d shot the poor woman to shut her up. She spun, wanting to flatten the guard with magic, but Jamal grabbed her arm and made a chopping motion with one hand.

  “One less to feed,” a guard muttered and walked away from the woman, who was bleeding in the dirt of the prison yard. “What the hell is a shifter? Do you know?”

  “Eh, they go crazy in here,” another guard said. “She was talking shit. We should just kill all of them and be done with it. Cheaper. Easier.” He dusted his hands together.

  The other guard punched him in the upper arm. “We don’t get to make those kinds of decisions. We just work here.”

  “Ja. I remember.” He grinned, displaying teeth discolored from chewing tobacco and prodded the small group of prisoners. They moved forward, keeping their eyes trained on the ground. No one made a move toward the woman whose shrieks had faded to dying gurgles.

  Aron sidled up to her. “I saw far worse in Esterwegen. Hell, Valentin wasn’t any saint when it came to doing away with people who figured out what he was.”

  “I know. I remember,” she replied.

  “There!” Gregor pointed above them where Meara’s distinctive form winged a circular flight path to ensure all the groups saw her.

  “We will remain together,” Jamal cautioned. “No one takes any side trips. We can’t afford to dilute our energy hunting for anyone.”

  Ilona nodded. So did Gregor and Jamal. Each group had an assigned sector of the prison camp. They were close to theirs, but not quite there yet. She hurried down a side alley with the others until the map she’d committed to memory jived with what spread before her.

  “This will go fast,” Gregor cautioned.

  “It has to.” Jamal nodded sharply. “If we tarry, reinforcements will show up about the time our magic is fading.”

  Vampires could slow them down a whole big bunch, but Ilona didn’t bother to mention it. They all knew. According to information Stewart had obtained from goddess only knew where, the camp had roughly sixty resident guards, headed up by half a dozen SS. Those were their first priority. Many of the other workers were prisoners, who should welcome freedom.

  “Well, lookie there.” Gregor jerked his chin at three SS sauntering toward them. Two had cigars clamped between their teeth. “I’ll take the one on the right.”

  “I’ve got the middle one,” Ilona said. “Aron and I.”

  Jamal didn’t bother calling his target.

  Power boiled around them as they sent killing blows designed to stop the men’s hearts. It came off splendidly. The three Nazis crumpled into the dirt without so much as a whimper. Surprised looks bloomed on their faces as they clutched their chests before they fell. If Stewart were correct, they’d just wiped out half the SS contingent assigned to this camp.

  She felt the backwash from power being expended all around them, and her elation over killing the SS faded. All that magic was like waving a red flag in front of a bull if any vampires were within a five-mile radius.

  Can’t worry about that now.

  Aron grabbed her arm and spun her around. Guards herded more prisoners. She focused on two of them. Aron’s power was a great boost to her own. Maybe it always had been, but they’d never tested it before. Guards crumpled around them. After a brief volley of confused shouts, the prisoners rushed toward the nearest gate, jostling each other until some fell. Others hauled them upright, and the crowd moved on.

  “Keep moving,” Jamal urged. “Things are going well.”

  It was solid advice. The other fourteen shifter-Romani groups were dealing out similar damage, and pandemonium was quickly spreading through the camp. Shouts rang out, and the harsh rat-a-tat of weapon fire filled the air. The stench of gunpowder thickened. Two groups had been in charge of opening the gates in hopes some of the prisoners who weren’t too downtrodden would take the opportunity and flee. It was working. They passed close to the front gate and saw a mass exodus.

  Ilona silently wished them well. Many would be recaptured, but not all of them. This had gone far more smoothly than she’d dared hope. At least so far, no one had even challenged them—beyond the Romani woman who’d died.

  Of course, they remained invisible, but still…

  “Time to leave.” Jamal wasn’t bothering with telepathy anymore. No reason to amid the shouts, screams, and howls. If that weren’t enough, gunfire still pounded all around them.

  Ilona stopped worrying about vampires. If they were going to show up, they’d have been here by now. She turned in a full circle, raking the camp with her gaze. More than anything, she wanted to make certain the guard who’d shot the Romani woman was dead. The woman’s only sin was she’d been indoctrinated to hate shifters, scarcely a mistake worth dying for.

  “I vote for the door we came in,” Gregor said. “It’s out of the way, and we’ll have a clear shot to make a run for the trucks.”

  “Good plan,” Jamal agreed. “I don’t see any guards still on their feet. Our work here is done.”

  Ilona and Aron joined them as they ran back the way they’d come, retracing their steps. She kept her eyes peeled for the guard, but didn’t find him lying in any of the numerous pools of blood. Lots of other guards, and at least ten SS beyond the ones they’d killed, lay scattered like forgotten tin soldiers.

  Thirteen plus SS was a good haul. She was savagely glad there’d been more of them than Stewart’s intelligence indicated. Vindictiveness heartened her. She wanted every single Nazi bastard deader than dead. If she had her way, they’d have suffered a hell of a lot more.

  “Ilona!” Aron’s cry drew her up short. She’d been certain he was by her side, but his voice came from several feet away.

  She spun. Her first instinct was to freeze, but a vampire had come out of nowhere and it was bearing down on Aron, a feral grin stamped on its perfe
ct face.

  Jamal and Gregor ran up on either side of her. “Looks like we get to do what we practiced for.” Gregor sounded positively delighted.

  A shiver tracked down Ilona’s spine. Why had the vampire singled out Aron? It had to be because of the one who’d fed on him. Maybe the fuckers had some way of figuring out who’d be a good candidate for their next easy meal.

  Jamal flashed the stake. “Let’s do this. Before his buddies show up.”

  Ilona ground her teeth together. How true. There was never just one vampire. They traveled in packs. The vampire was closing on Aron, who stood rooted in place. After his first, frantic summons, his face had relaxed into an almost dreamy expression.

  “Goddammit! That thing has him in thrall,” she screamed.

  “We need to take it down,” Jamal shouted. “Once that’s done, its spell will dissipate.”

  Fine. But it never should have nabbed Aron in the first place.

  A rush of protectiveness almost blinded her with outrage and fury.

  She and Gregor pelted toward the vampire, discarding their invisibility spells. The thing had to see them to react. If all it felt were magic, it’d likely ignore them in favor of the waiting meal. Aron twisted his head to one side, baring his neck, and she kicked herself for not recognizing how his time in Esterwegen had marked him.

  “I don’t think so,” she screeched closing the distance between them and the vampire fast. Aron barely blinked as she raced past him arm in arm with Gregor. Jamal remained invisible, magic muted down to nothing, as he circled to get into position. He was behind the vampire now and running full out, stake extended.

  Ilona willed him to strike fast and hard, killing the twisted creature who lived off rot and death.

  The vampire focused eyes the color of fine emeralds on her, and his perfect lips parted in a seductive smile. “I like you. You have spirit. You also share the blood of my sacrifice. Should make things…interesting.”

  “Interesting how?” she countered. Jamal was almost there. Just in case, she pulled her dirk free, brandishing it in the vampire’s face.

  The thing laughed at her. “Really? Little shifter bitch. That pathetic blade wouldn’t harm a rabbit.”

  “True enough. It might not be terribly effective against someone as powerful as yourself.” Gregor smiled as if he were having the most prosaic conversation with an acquaintance.

  Obviously pleased by the flattery, the vampire’s smile broadened. “You’re clearly part of the group that’s turned this whole place into the most delightful smorgasbord. Those Nazis are a bunch of stupid bastards. We appreciate them dead more than al—”

  Jamal launched himself at the vampire, burying the stake in its heart with a force that drove it into the dirt. Ilona and Gregor raced forward, pulling magic like mad things to hold the vampire in place while the silver stake killed it.

  Something closed on Ilona from the side, but she couldn’t take her energy off the vampire. They’d almost won. Then they could grab Aron and leave.

  “Stop!” Aron shrieked. “You’re killing it.” He threw himself on her back and began clawing her.

  “I’ve got this,” Gregor said. “Get your brother under control.”

  “We’ve got this,” Jamal corrected. “He’s almost dead. Not a very powerful one. No bugs crawling out of him.”

  Ilona wrenched away from Aron, who was dragging his hands down her back and shoulders. She refocused her magic and saw the vampire’s black-tinged spell throb around her brother. It was weakening since the vampire was in its death throes.

  “Aron!” She made her voice stern. “Stop. This isn’t you.”

  “He was kind,” Aron protested, whining. His eyes held a dull, dead aspect. “Said he wouldn’t drain me.”

  That did it. Ilona dug deep and doused her brother in a flood of purifying white light.

  His gray eyes snapped open and came into focus fast. A horrified expression crossed his face. “Shit! Aw crap! It had me, didn’t it?” Twisting, he ran to the downed vampire and kicked its face.

  Jamal yanked the silver stake out and bolted to his feet. “We’re done here. Let’s go before any more of them show up.”

  Aron was still kicking the vampire. Tears and snot streaked his face as he cursed it.

  Ilona stuffed her dirk back into its sheath and grabbed one of Aron’s arms. Gregor took hold of the other. “Pull yourself together right now,” Ilona hissed. “Time to go. We can sort this out later—and make sure it never happens again.”

  With Jamal behind them, they ran for the gateway. “Make yourselves invisible,” Jamal called. “Lots of ground to cover outside the camp.”

  It was a good reminder. Ilona summoned power and draped it over herself and her brother.

  “I can do my own,” he muttered. “I’m enough of a failure today.”

  Her heart went out to him. “Wasn’t your fault,” she said. “Just something about vampires we didn’t understand—until now.”

  She’d wondered why they hadn’t bothered to show up. Surely, they’d sensed the camp was under attack. The vampire’s words came back to her. Those Nazis are a bunch of stupid bastards. We appreciate them dead more than alive. Even though the vampire hadn’t gotten the last word out, it didn’t matter. And it explained a whole lot. Maybe the vampires would end up unlikely allies after all and help drive the Reich into Hell.

  Yeah, right. Talk about wishful thinking…

  They passed through the same doorway they’d used to enter the camp and ran. The streets were clotted with prisoners who’d escaped. She mentally urged them to get farther away while they had a chance. They stuck out like sore thumbs in their striped prison garb. What she didn’t see were other shifters or Romani from their groups. Or sense any of their magic. Had the others left the camp that much ahead of them?

  Guess we’ll find out soon enough.

  The town’s roads gave way to forested track. They rounded a familiar corner only to find all the trucks gone.

  “Aw double shit! This is my fault,” Aron groaned.

  “No one’s fault. We did what we had to. We’ll figure something out.” Jamal dropped an arm across Aron’s shoulders.

  No reason to waste magic on invisibility or telepathy, so she released her spell. Much like the escaped prisoners, they needed to put distance between themselves and the camp they’d liberated. She was about to suggest moving on quickly when the hunting cry of a vulture raked across her ears.

  “Follow me,” Meara called and flew slowly away from them.

  “Where do you suppose we’re going?” Ilona asked Jamal.

  “Probably a shifter den,” he replied. “They’re all over, so maybe there’s one close by. I was getting ready to search once we discovered the trucks left without us.”

  “Naw,” Gregor spoke up. “I bet she’s leading us back to the trucks.”

  “What’s a shifter den?” Aron asked, not sounding quite so downtrodden.

  Keeping an arm firmly around him, Jamal launched into an explanation, and Ilona could have hugged him for being so kind to her brother.

  Chapter 20

  Jamal kept an eye on Meara’s winged form. She flew slowly enough for them to plot a trajectory and follow her through the trail-less forest. Aron trotted next to him, not looking quite as devastated as he’d been earlier. “You doing okay?” Jamal asked.

  “Yeah. I had no idea I was so vulnerable to vampire coercion.” He shook his head, and dark hair tumbled into his eyes. “One minute I noticed it, and the next I was baring my neck for its fangs. Christ! I hate them. How could I just lay myself out like a trussed goose?”

  “They must have marked you somehow,” Ilona said from where she loped on Aron’s other side.

  “Can you unmark me?” Aron turned his head toward his sister.

  “Probably. I need to confer with Stewart. If there’s some way to eradicate vampire tracings, it might be in the lore books.”

  “Meara and Nivkh might know as well,” Gregor
said. “This forest makes me feel safe, but I’m sure we’re not. Anyone have any idea where we are?”

  Jamal used magic to take some bearings. Meara was leading them northwest rather than south. Where were they going?

  “This isn’t the right way,” Gregor muttered, as if he’d read Jamal’s thoughts. Maybe he had.

  “It’s not the way we came,” Jamal agreed. “I’m sure Meara has something in mind. She’s not one to move forward without good reason.”

  “Probably so. I’m still reeling from Anubis being a sham.” Breath hissed from between Gregor’s teeth, steamy in the chill air. “That man was like a god to me.”

  “He was to all of us,” Jamal broke in. “I haven’t let myself think about his loss.”

  “Probably a good strategy. It’s not as if we don’t have other problems that are far more pressing.”

  “Look!” Aron jutted his chin skyward. “She’s circling. Probably means she’s going to land.”

  Jamal aimed for a point in the center of Meara’s aerial circles. It turned out to be a cleared area at the end of a rutted road. Meara shifted midair in a blaze of light and was human when she touched down.

  “Glad I located you,” she said. “You were the last ones out. What kept you?”

  “Vampire,” Jamal said, skimping on the details for now. “Where are we headed?”

  She eyed him with asperity. “Figured you’d know we weren’t moving south. One of the trucks will be here soon enough. They can’t travel as fast by road as we could overland.”

  “What happens once it gets here?” Gregor asked.

  “We’re making a run for the Netherlands. There are places we should be able to cross the border. Once we’re there, Stewart plans to get us aboard a ship for the British Isles.”

  Ilona drew her brows together. “It’s closer than going back to Munich—at least the Netherlands are—but how safe is it?”

  “We have a window, but it’s a thin one,” Meara replied. “Right now, the Netherlands are neutral. Hitler will invade, but not until the middle of this year. Maybe May. Maybe June. My visions can’t tack it down any closer than that.”