A Blood Seduction

by Pamela Palmer

  To Quinn’s surprise, Delilah smiled. “Thank you.” She turned and ran back to Quinn, throwing her arms around her neck before releasing her. “Godspeed.”

  “You’re going to be okay?” The werewolf was huge. In every way.

  A hint of mischief lit Delilah’s eyes through the sadness that would remain for some time, Quinn suspected. “I need to forget. And to kick up my heels a bit. He’s just what the doctor ordered.”

  Quinn snorted, then laughed. “Good luck, Delilah.”

  By the time Delilah turned away, the werewolf had returned to wolf form. He waited for Delilah to join him, brushing against her leg as she ran her hand through his fur. The other wolves followed, and the pack disappeared behind the buildings across the street.

  Quinn had been watching for street markings and had seen enough to know they were on G Street, only about five blocks from her rough understanding of the gladiator camp’s location. Finally.

  She turned to Marcus as she started walking in that direction. “How am I going to free my brother from the camp?”

  He gave her a small grimace. “I’ve been thinking about that. A lot. I know I said I’d help you . . .”

  “But you can’t be captured, or you’ll be enthralled and enslaved again. If I’m captured and can make them think I’m enthralled . . .”

  “You might be able to surprise them as you did the vampire in the stables. That’s the only chance I see.” He gripped her arm. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s not much of a chance, Quinn. Maybe no chance at all.”

  “I know. But it doesn’t matter. Do you have any siblings?”

  “Two sisters.”

  “If it were one of them in there?”

  He smiled grimly. “No one and nothing would stop me from trying to reach her.”

  Quinn nodded. But she knew he spoke the truth. Mission impossible, Vamp City style. She was going to need a miracle.

  As they reached the corner of the next block, the earth began to shake.

  As one, they froze, turning, waiting for the sunbeam. Marcus gripped her shoulder, and she could feel the tense excitement in his touch. This was it.

  But when the sun broke through, the closest beam appeared to be at least a block or two away. There was a long line of buildings separating them from it. If it closed quickly, they’d be too late.

  “That way!” Quinn said.

  Jeff and Marcus both leaped forward. As one, the group took off running to the end of the block, made a quick right turn, and ran down the next block. Quinn had always been a runner, and though she was a little out of shape, she kept up with Marcus and one of the other guys, the others following close behind. She saw no need to wait for anyone. She probably couldn’t get them all through at once anyway. And there was no telling how long the light would last. Even if she only got Marcus through, she’d call it a victory.

  Quinn rounded the block and finally got a good look at the sunbeam. She groaned. This one didn’t conveniently illuminate a spot on the street as the other two had, but spilled its light directly on top of a pile of rubble from a building that had finally lost its fight with time, weather, and gravity. Nothing was ever easy. She darted across the street and onto the dirt, then began picking her way over broken timbers, Marcus at her side.

  “This whole pile could collapse, Quinn,” Marcus warned. But he wasn’t slowing down, not at all, not when his wife and baby lay on the other side of the climb.

  Taking her eyes off the timbers for just a moment, she looked into the sunbeam to see what lay on the other side. It appeared to be an office space with cubicles. Huh. Even though it wasn’t technically in the sun, it was the part of the real world that occupied this particular space. The office appeared to be empty. If there was anyone there, she couldn’t see them, which was a good thing. People dropping in from thin air might raise a few eyebrows.

  The boards beneath her feet tilted, nearly dumping her, but she managed to keep her balance and continue climbing. The closer she got, the more the energy crawled along her skin. Finally, balancing upon a mountain of rubble, she was close enough to touch the light. With Zack, the magic had pulled her through, and she couldn’t afford for that to happen again, not unless she had time to leap back out again. But perhaps the pull wasn’t the same on this side as it had been on the other. She could hope.

  She grabbed Marcus’s hand. “Give that baby a kiss for me.”

  The big man pulled her hand to his lips, tears gleaming in his eyes, then swung the pack off his shoulder and onto hers before grabbing her hand again. “Look me up. I want to know that you got out okay.”

  “I will.” When the time was right. When this was over. She grabbed the hand of the man on her other side and told them both, “Walk into the sunbeam.”

  Carefully, they picked their way forward and stepped directly into the light, gripping Quinn’s hands. For a brief moment, she felt the cool rush of air-conditioned air as the two men stumbled into that office, but no pull of magic. The expressions on the men’s faces brought tears to her eyes. Euphoria. Boundless joy. Marcus turned in her general direction, unable to see her, and called, “I owe you,” before backing away for the next pair to come through.

  A moment later, Jeff was at her side, one of the women at her other, and she pushed the two of them through as she had the first pair, smiling as they jumped together in a triumphant hug.

  Quinn turned to watch the plump girl and Celeste making their way up the pile of rubble. From this height, she had a good view of the ruined landscape of Vamp City.

  Her pulse started to race, her stomach twisting with the knowledge that escape was within her grasp. And she wanted that—to leave this place and never return—with a desperation that nearly made her ill.

  She turned back to the sunbeam, staring at the world she belonged in, a world with fluorescent lights and office furniture and air-conditioning. It would be so easy to step through with the others and leave all this behind. God knew, her chances of saving Zack were about as good as winning the lottery. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. She’d come back for him, hadn’t she? And then gotten herself captured again.

  Maybe it was time to save herself. She began to shake with the need to do just that. To escape while escape was at hand.

  The two women, helping one another, reached her at the same time. Celeste grabbed for Quinn, then lost her balance, nearly tumbling them all. But Quinn righted her, and, a moment later, the pair were close enough to reach the sunbeam.

  “Walk into the light,” she told them, and handed them through. As desperately as she wanted to follow, her feet refused to move.

  Stepping into the air-conditioned office, the girl squealed in delight. But Celeste’s eyes went wide as she clutched her chest and slowly crumpled to the ground. Susie had warned her that once a human turned immortal, there was no going home. Grant had seemed to believe Celeste would make it. And perhaps she would, if they got her medical attention in time.

  But as the others rushed toward her, the sunbeam disappeared, leaving Quinn in the dark atop the rubble heap, light-blind, shaking, and very, very alone. For a moment, she’d actually considered leaving Zack behind. But though her mind had considered it, her heart remained steadfastly resolute. She refused to leave Vamp City again without her brother. Which probably meant she’d never leave Vamp City at all.

  As her sight returned, she slowly picked her way down the rubble pile, each step feeling heavy and stiff. Two of the others had left their packs on the sidewalk, and she went through them, adding their meager contents to the pack Marcus had given her. In all, she scrounged two stale rolls, half a bottle of water, a flashlight, and extra batteries. Not enough to live on for more than a day but more than enough to last her until she reached the gladiator camp.

  With a noisy sigh, Quinn reclaimed her bearings, searching for sign of wolves or vampires, then star
ted out again, alone. A chill crawled down her spine as she crossed the street, a feeling that she was being watched. Perhaps it was just one of the wolves making sure she moved on. Just in case, she pulled out her switchblade and a stake and gripped one in each hand as she walked.

  Her chest ached. It was foolish to feel abandoned, but she couldn’t help it. And the thought of what came next scared her shitless. Was she really going to walk up to the gates of the gladiator camp and ask to be let in? What kind of a fool-ass move was that? She’d wind up raped, tortured, probably dead. She’d never be able to save Zack. Never. She’d just force him to watch her die.

  God, she was such a fool for ever thinking she could do this. She should have escaped with the others.

  Quinn.

  At the gentle sound of Arturo’s voice, she closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears.

  You’re not alone, cara. I’m here.

  Such simple words, and not entirely true, but they calmed her all the same. She swallowed the unshed tears, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, feeling warmed, even comforted, by his presence. Even if that presence wasn’t real. Even if that comfort was a lie.

  Quinn hadn’t traveled more than two blocks alone when a distant shout carried to her on the wind, followed by a chorus of yells. She slowed, looking around. Was that coming from the gladiator camp?

  Her steps quickened, her desperation to reach the camp a thrumming need, though she still had no plan for getting inside short of walking up to the nearest vamp and demanding to be enslaved.

  The remaining blocks passed quickly, the clack of wood on wood and the occasional shout of pain growing louder. Sweat began to dampen her scalp as she half walked, half ran, driven as much by anticipation as fear. Zack, buddy, I’m coming. She wondered how big the camp was, how spread out. Surely, there would be buildings. Maybe even fences, though fences could be climbed. But if the slaves were enthralled, maybe there was no need to fence them. There would be little chance of their escaping.

  She hadn’t considered what she might do if Zack were enthralled. Would she be able to break through vampire mind control enough to lead him away? So many questions. So many ways for her to fail.

  As she turned the next corner, she could see light rising from behind the line of row houses on the next block. She was nearly there. Quinn darted across the street and back into the shadows closest to the houses, then slowed as she made her cautious way to the corner, where she could peer at the encampment without being seen. As she reached the corner, she pressed her fist to her chest, attempting to quiet her stuttering nerves, praying she might, at last, catch a glimpse of her beloved brother.

  But as she pressed back against the building and slowly peered around the corner, her heart fell to her stomach. They’d called it a camp. She’d envisioned something open, accessible. Instead, she stared at a freaking fortress. The brick wall, a good twelve feet high, extended all the way down the block and back at least as far, encompassing an entire city block. Maybe two. Halfway down the block, light gleamed from what appeared, from this distance, to be thick iron-barred gates.

  Holy hell. She’d imagined grabbing Zack and slipping away unnoticed. There would be no escaping this place. Her lashes swept down, her jaw tensing, as she absorbed the blow of disappointment.

  From behind the wall rang the clack of wood and the shouts of anger and pain. She’d almost certainly found the gladiator camp. But the question remained, was Zack within those walls? Grant had claimed he was. At least, that he had been. But what if she got herself captured and taken inside only to discover that Zack wasn’t there?

  Maybe there was a way to see inside before she committed herself. Gripping her switchblade and stake tightly, she turned back the way she’d come, deciding to go around the block and try to come at those gates from a different angle—one that might afford her a little cover.

  An alley provided the path she’d been looking for and led to a building directly across the street from the gates. Perfect. As always, she approached quietly, carefully, in case this happened to be one of the houses that was actually occupied. As she drew closer, she saw that the door hung askew. Clearly abandoned, like most in V.C.

  Cautiously, she slipped inside, the old wood creaking beneath her feet. What little light the day provided barely penetrated the house, but she didn’t dare turn on her flashlight with the vampires right across the street. And she could see well enough without it, well enough to make out the stairs to her right. From an upstairs window, she might have the best view. The treads appeared to be intact. Hopefully, they’d hold her weight.

  She tried the first step, slowly. While it creaked, it held, and she moved up the stairs, keeping to the better-braced ends rather than the middle. The fourth step cracked, and she quickly moved on to the next, but the rest held. At the top of the stairs, she moved just as cautiously down the hall to the front bedroom, where the smell of mildew was rampant, the furniture crumbling and ghostly-looking in the dim light of day.

  One of the windows was still intact but too thick with dirt to see through easily, so she moved to the broken one, where she discovered a clear view across the street. And into the surprisingly wide gates.

  The interior of the camp was well lit, firelight and shadows dancing on the far walls. She could just glimpse one of the torches hanging in an iron holder.

  Movement caught her eye through the bars, a line of bare-chested young men, marching as if in formation. A shout, and they dropped to do push-ups, sweat and blood gleaming on their backs. And that’s when she saw him. Zack. She’d know that mop of curly red hair and that long, skinny back anywhere. That back, now crisscrossed with welts and straining with exertion.

  Oh, Zack.

  As she watched, a thick-armed brute strode up the line, cracking a whip seemingly at random, knocking one recruit onto his chest, then another. Several more withstood the flick of the whip, continuing with the push-ups as if nothing had happened. The whip scored Zack’s flesh, and Quinn gasped. But though Zack’s form wavered, he didn’t crumble. Her own skin crawled with misery at what he suffered even as she cheered on his determination.

  There were no women in the group even though a woman had been chosen to represent Cristoff’s kovena. Then again, why bother training the ones who were only there to be slaughtered?

  Another shout, and the line of men jumped to their feet. Zack rose a beat late, for which he earned another lash. Then they were marching off again, out of her sight.

  She had to get him out of there. Getting in herself should be easy. It was getting back out again that was going to be the problem. But that was a worry for later. Right now, right this moment, all she cared about was reaching Zack.

  Taking a deep, bracing breath, she retraced her path down the stairs, careful to avoid that missing step. But as she reached the back door, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

  Her pulse leaped as a second joined it. And a third. All three male. All three with the faintly glowing orange eyes of Traders.

  Her heart plummeted. She refused to return to that slave auction. No way in hell. Not when she was so close to reaching Zack.

  Quinn flicked open her switchblade and took a step back. If she could make it out the front door and across the street, would the vampires snatch her from these vermin? Or would they let them take her? She didn’t know and couldn’t risk their choosing the latter. She was going to have to fight off this lot herself.

  The Traders weren’t particularly big men—no taller than she was, but they moved into the house with a wiry grace that boded ill for her ability to fight off any of them, let alone all three. She’d expected to have to deal with men today, probably even rape. But at the hands of vampires within the gladiator encampment. Not here!

  “What do you want?” She tried to keep them in her sights, but the way they were circling her, it was impossible.

  “You.” The first one
eased closer. “An escaped human fetches a higher price than a fresh one. Though you look plenty fresh.” He lunged for her.

  Quinn struck with her knife, slashing a bloody line across his arm. “Oh, I’m fresh all right.”

  “Bitch!”

  The second two attacked at the same time, and she whirled, kicking back at one as she swung at the other, but this time they were prepared, and she missed on both counts. They circled her, laughing, as she crouched, waiting for their next attack, desperately trying to keep them all in sight.

  The first one lunged again, and she struck out, but the moment her arm was extended, the other two pounced on her from behind, knocking the knife out of her hand. Quinn slammed her elbow back, connecting with a nose, and heard a satisfying crack. That attacker fell back with a yell as a second lunged. She lashed out with another back kick, but a hand gripped her ankle, a foot swiped her other foot out from under her, and she slammed onto the floor, back first, her head splintering wood behind her. Pain exploded, her sight shorting out for one terrifying moment before returning in sunburst flashes of pain.

  Rough hands groped her breasts as another pair pulled off her boots and reached for the waist of her pants. Terror burst inside her, and she struggled to fight them off, but a third set of hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them high over her head.

  Heat began to crawl beneath her skin, rushing from her hands down through her body, an unnatural heat that neither warmed nor burned, reminding her of what she’d felt in the Crux when Grant and Sheridan took her hands. Except there was no pain this time, just a hot itchy feel. Of power? Could she do something this time?

  She flattened her palms and pointed them toward the Trader who gripped her arms, imagining him flying backward, away from her, willing it with all her might.

  But nothing happened.

  Instead, a blinding storm of fear and fury roared through her as her pants and panties were wrenched off, as the man who’d taken them pulled a thick, distended cock from his own pants.