Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines)

by Olsen, Lisa

  “Wait…” Rob darted forward, his hand striking the barrier in a crackle of blue sparks and he made a fist as if it hurt.

  “Stay back, I got this,” I ordered. I didn’t want to try the barrier on my side, I figured the less damage I caused to myself the better, especially since I might be taking a pounding in the next few minutes. Besides, I couldn’t back down now, there was too much at stake.

  A low ripple through the crowd let me know Angel had appeared, being led to the courtyard, her hands bound before her. She wore the same clothes as the night before, her black hair falling in front of her eyes in a messy tangle. The look on her face was one of pure anticipation with a hint of pleasure. She was looking forward to killing me and had zero doubts about who’d be walking out of the ring the victor.

  I thought I’d be more nervous, but as Angel stepped into the square, I felt loose and comfortable on my feet. Still, I kept a wary distance, circling away from her, my hands held in a defensive pose. There was no announcement, no formal beginning to the match; Angel came out swinging, driving me backwards as I awkwardly tried to dodge her.

  The first hit didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, but I didn’t want to let her know that. I needed time to study how she moved, and the only way to buy that time was by sacrificing my pride and letting her think she had the upper hand. That meant taking a shot, and another, testing her reach, her speed, her control.

  The crowd ate it up every time I got hit. Bridget kept whooping and hollering behind me, yelling, “Sweep the leg!” at the top of her lungs. Rob was tossing out pointers as well. I could hear the frustration in his voice when I didn’t act on them, and I hated to hear it, but I kept my eye on the prize. My plan was working.

  I could see it in her eyes, she thought she had me. I did my best to look tired, weak… maybe not all that recovered from my near death experience. Sometimes I think I could’ve been a drama major instead of music, if it wasn’t for that pesky stage fright thing. From the smug look on her face, I’d say I was doing a bang up job at pretending to be pathetic. I got in an ineffectual jab to her side, to make it look good, not even using half strength or speed.

  Angel didn’t look particularly winded, but I hadn’t expected her to. So far she seemed intent on beating me by wearing me down, and that suited me fine. It was a conservative approach, and it told me she wasn’t as imaginative as I’d feared. A particularly effective boot to my head left me dazed for a half second, and Angel took the advantage, shoving me towards the magical forcefield.

  I managed to throw my arm up in time before I plowed face first into the unseen barrier, and my arm hit it with a shower of bright blue sparks. Throwing her weight against me, she pinned me against the invisible wall and I screamed. It hurt like I’d stuck my elbow into a deep fat fryer, far worse than anything she’d dished out before. Panic welled as I struggled to get away, until I heard Rob’s voice in my head, telling me what to do.

  Close in, I had the advantage, my superior strength and weeks of training with Rob against various holds gave me the edge to break free. My free arm swung back sharply, cracking her a good one in the face. Angel’s hold faltered as she gave a sharp cry of pain. I twisted free of the crackling barrier, following up with a strike to her throat, hard enough to send her staggering backwards with a choking gasp.

  My elbow went completely numb, but I ignored the pins and needles – I couldn’t give her time to recover. Stunned and in pain, Angel’s face turned almost comical as I switched from defensive moves to the attack. Years of training gave her the skill to block my hits, but only barely. As fast as she was, I was faster. And when she realized that for the first time, it made her reckless.

  I was ready when she tried the same roundhouse kick again, and this time I caught her boot and twisted, bringing my elbow down on her leg with enough force to shatter her kneecap. Angel crumpled to the ground with a squeal, and in a heartbeat, I had her face down against the stones, my boot shoved into her neck, her arm twisted at an unnatural angle in one of Rob’s holds.

  “Do you give up?” I asked, as the crowd exploded into raucous cheers around us.

  “No,” she grunted.

  I tightened my hold on her wrist, hearing the bones grind and pop against each other. Eewh. “How about now?”

  “No,” she gasped, her face ashen.

  Don’t be afraid of brutality… I heard Rob’s voice in the back of my mind again. Only I didn’t want to kill her, or even do something gross like reach into her ribcage for her heart like Jakob would’ve done. That left something painful and dramatic, but hopefully not permanently disfiguring.

  “Fine, let’s see how you like it.” I let my boot up off her neck, only to replace it with a solid grip, shoving her face against the forcefield before she could so much as twitch. Angel let out a shriek, thrashing like a live fish on a hotplate, but I kept her there, gritting my teeth at the current I felt through my arm from holding her in place.

  “Give up,” I growled near her ear, but I’m not sure she heard me through the intense pain I knew she felt. “Do you yield?” I tried again, pulling her away from the magic by the hair.

  “If I yield… I die,” she panted, her whole body gone slack.

  “That’s true,” I said dispassionately. “But how you die is completely up to you. I can make it fast and relatively painless, or…” I inched her face toward the barrier again, only to have her shudder from head to foot.

  “I yield,” Angel whined in distress. “Be merciful, kill me now,” she panted when I let go of her hair. Turning her over, I was sickened to see the side of her face red and blistered, as though she’d been caught out in the sun for too long. I didn’t know if I could trust the easy capitulation, or if she’d try to attack me once again, and I caught hold of her with my will. “Be still,” I commanded, taking a moment to catch my breath.

  All around us, vampires yelled for me to kill her, Rob and Felix among them. Even Bridget yelled a string of punishments so grotesque, she had the delegate from Salete cringing beside her. All eyes were on me to finish it once and for all.

  I had her now. No one could challenge the fact that I’d beaten her in combat. Even if I didn’t kill her, I could still exact my revenge. I could compel her to leave and never stop looking over her shoulder. I could end her career with the Order, make her take up stripping in some sleazy bar in Bangkok. I could put her in the ground with a stake through her heart and see how she liked being on ice for a while.

  In the end, I did none of those things.

  There was only one way to guarantee she’d never come after me again, short of killing her. Catching hold of her neck, I brought her face very close to mine, my words for her ears only. “Let go of the hatred, the anger, the pain,” I commanded. “No more death. Let every petty thought or emotion go. Be a stronger woman. Live and be happy.”

  The most amazing change came over her face. The pinch of fear and loathing dissolved away, replaced by a wondrous, childlike smile. Everything about her shifted, the tension draining from her shoulders and she seemed to take a full breath for the first time. Her liquid eyes shone with gratitude and something akin to worship. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you for giving me my life back.”

  Only now did I take the time to find Rob in the crowd, smiling in triumph as I let her go. “Drop the barrier. We’re done here,” I ordered as I climbed to my feet.

  Corley wasn’t so keen on the turn of events, blocking the little man who stepped up to release the spell. “The fight is to the death, you must finish her,” he demanded.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I muttered, staring him down across the courtyard. Angel was still a liability, and the only way to implicate him in Tommy’s death. “Angel yielded to me, does anyone dispute that?” I asked of the crowd. Not a soul spoke out against me. “Her life is forfeit to me, and I gave it back to her.”

  “It’s her right to be merciful,” Faust agreed, aloud. “The match is over, and Anja is the clear
victor.” The crowd murmured its assent, and Corley gave the barest of nods, allowing the witch, or whatever he was, through to drop the spell.

  Once the barrier was gone, there was a burst of activity – delegates offering their congratulations, money exchanging hands, all as Angel was led away. Bridget greeted me with a high five, and Macallister grabbed my arm and raised it in the air like I’d won a prize fight. Rob hung back, his face shuttered, but I thought I saw a brief glimpse of relief mingled with pride and love. I spotted Bishop standing on the edge of the crowd, but he didn’t come near me, his face puzzled as though maybe he was trying to figure out what I’d said to Angel.

  Only one person’s face matched the glower on Corley’s, and it came from an unexpected corner. Felix hung back, his anger palpable from across the courtyard whenever he looked in my direction. I couldn’t fathom why he’d be so upset to see me win, and as soon as I was able, I excused myself from the impromptu party that sprang up on the terrace and drew him aside.

  “Hey, Felix what’s up? Don’t tell me you bet against me,” I teased, but he kept his voice low and angry.

  “What was that about? How could you let Tommy’s death go like that? You should have ripped that bitch apart, piece by piece.”

  All at once I understood the reason for his anger. “I did something better,” I insisted. “Angel was a tool, an instrument. It wasn’t her idea to go after Tommy or me in the first place. Killing her wouldn’t bring Tommy back. I made Tommy’s death mean something.”

  Felix tried to process it, but came up blank, too short on details. “I don’t get it.”

  “I know, but I’m asking you to trust me. It’ll be better this way, I promise.” I couldn’t explain what I’d done to Angel, especially not with so many other people nearby. Felix let out a long breath, his head hanging, and I thought I’d have to try something else to win him over. Instead, when his head came up, I saw faith shining in his eyes.

  “Alright, I trust you.”

  “Thank you.” I clasped his hand warmly, my smile returning. “Someday you’ll understand, I promise.”

  “What about that rat bastard, Corley? You gonna let him go too?” He braced himself for the blow, but I was quick to reassure him.

  “No, that’s something else entirely,” I replied, lowering my voice to match his. “He deserves to go down. And I know just how to do it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was both easier and harder than I’d thought it would be to sneak around in the lower levels of the mansion. I knew Sylvius spent all of his time down there in his grand suite of rooms, but I had no idea where the heck it actually was. Neither did Rob, who insisted on tagging along with me. After the scare I’d given him during the middle of my fight with Angel, I didn’t even try to talk him out of it. Besides, he was way more stealthy than I ever was, vampire reflexes or not.

  It helped that there was almost nobody down there, the Order all out wreaking havoc on peoples’ lives and most of the other vamps busy with the party upstairs. A party in my honor, but they were all much more focused on partying itself than honoring me for anything. If anyone saw Rob and me slipping away, I’m sure they expected a feeding after my ordeal, not the covert operation currently under deployment.

  Sneaking through the wide stone corridors, I almost wished we had hand signals to trade, like they did in the movies. I was willing to bet Rob knew a few, but what good would it do if he had to stop and explain them along the way?

  The ornate, gold leafed door was a dead giveaway that we’d come to the right place. I waffled back and forth for a few seconds on whether or not I should knock first before I tried the knob and swung the big door open.

  “Hello?” I called out softly, comforted by Rob’s solid presence at my side and the promise of friendship given by the Elder on my last visit.

  Sylvius hunched by the fireplace in front of a huge, folding table, the surface covered in tiny puzzle pieces. A tall guy, his shoulders stooped over the table, making him seem like an old man despite the lack of gray hair. He wore a long, pale blue tunic, stained at the neckline with dark, rusty blotches. His long hair draped around his shoulders, like a mantle. The puzzle box on the floor depicted the Sistine Chapel on the cover, and he ignored us, his fingers hovering over the pieces, searching for the right fit.

  “Sylvius?” I tried again, half afraid someone would show up and toss us out at any second, but he appeared to be completely alone.

  His head came up at the mention of his name, blue eyes crinkling with delight as they landed on me. “Carys? You’ve come to visit me at long last,” he beamed, only to take in my exercise gear. “You’re strangely dressed, go and put on a proper frock.”

  Was the lighting in there really that bad? Apart from the fireplace, there were several candles lit throughout the room, definitely enough for me to see him clearly. As far as I knew, vampire sight didn’t fade with age, if anything it seemed like it’d grow stronger. “No, it’s not Carys. It’s me, Anja… Anja Gudrun?”

  He stared at me blankly.

  “We met about a month or so ago… I was with Bishop, I mean Ulrik,” I prompted gently. Sylvius had gone completely still, so frozen I only barely resisted the urge to wave my fingers in front of his face to see if he was still conscious. “Sylvius?”

  “Yes, child. How may I help you?” he smiled benignly as if we hadn’t exchanged any greetings yet.

  “Well, I um… I came to talk to you about a problem in your House.”

  “You’d better come back tomorrow then. I’m dreadfully busy.” Another smile was given before he turned his attention back to his puzzle, ignoring us completely.

  I traded looks with Rob. If Sylvius was taking a permanent mental vacation, my plan was about to go down in flames. “Your Grace, I really have to talk to you about Simon Corley.”

  “Yes, what about him?” He didn’t bother to look up this time.

  “He’s been playing dirty politics lately.”

  “That’s why I leave all of that to him. It gives me time to focus on my most important works.” He gestured expansively to the puzzle on the table.

  “Okay, but he’s been plotting to assassinate people.”

  “Surely not,” he snorted. “It was probably a misunderstanding.”

  “No, he was behind a plot to murder Thomas Lyons.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “He was the Elder of the West.”

  “Don’t be silly, girl. Lucius is the Elder of the West.”

  I shrugged my shoulders at Rob, and he cleared his throat. “Lucius died nearly two hundred years ago, Your Grace. After Lucius came Haysom and then Lyons. She’s right though, Corley killed Lyons, as sure as if he’d been the one to fire the arrow himself.”

  The Elder vampire’s brow creased into deep furrows. “Who are you people? How did you get in here?” he demanded.

  “I’m Anja, sir. I’m the Elder of the West.”

  “I thought you said it was this Lionel person?”

  “Lyons,” I corrected him gently. “No, Thomas was the Elder, but I took over when he died. And now Corley’s tried to kill me as well.”

  “And what do you want me to do about it?” he whined like a spoiled child being asked to take out the garbage. “Make him apologize to you? It’s nothing to do with me.”

  “With all due respect, Sylvius, you’re the Elder here, not Simon. Doesn’t it bother you that he’s plotting to kill the heads of other Houses?”

  Sylvius blinked up at me, and I saw the confusion behind his eyes. He couldn’t remember what we were talking about. “How can I help you, child?” he smiled.

  The hope died in my heart, and I pulled Rob away, leaving the old vampire to pick up his puzzle pieces again. “What do we do now?” I whispered.

  “He’s gone mad as a hatter,” Rob muttered, his eyes on the Elder. “Even if we can get through to him, he can’t be left to rule Vetis. The Lords will tear the House apart scrabbling for power without a strong lead
er.”

  “I can’t worry about that right now. First thing’s first – we have to get Corley out of power before he tries to kill someone else.”

  “Or you,” he added, his eyes telling me that was all he cared about and I basked in the warmth of that love for a few seconds.

  “Or me,” I acknowledged, turning my head to study the man by the fire. “I have to try talking to him again. He was perfectly lucid the last time we were here.”

  “Maybe he has good days and bad ones?” he shrugged. “Can’t poke around down here for too much longer without someone noticing though.”

  “Let me try something else.” I approached the man, taking a chair beside him when he didn’t acknowledge me in any way. Taking a deep breath, I sang softly, O My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose, the song that had brought him up to see me before. Before I got through two bars, I saw I had his attention, and by the time I was done with the first stanza there was the light of intelligence shining behind his eyes. I wasn’t sure whether to stop and pounce on him then or keep singing, but I took a chance and finished out the song.

  “That was lovely, my dear,” he beamed, reaching out to pat my hand gently. “Thank you for coming to visit me again so soon.”

  “You remember me?”

  “Of course I do. I never forget a pretty face. Anja Gudrun, daughter of Carys, daughter of Jakob, or so we’re meant to believe,” he chuckled touching a finger to his nose.

  “Oh, thank God!” The breath rushed out of my body in relief.

  “What is it, child?” he blinked in surprise at my distress. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be set to rights soon enough.”

  I must’ve set the record for speed talking, wanting to get it all out in a rush before he lost his marbles again. Not having to breathe for anything beyond speaking helped quite a lot, and I hit the high points in no time at all, laying out the basics of Corley and Angel’s crimes.

  “Are you certain of these facts?” he asked when I paused for another breath.

  “I am. I compelled them from Angel myself.”