Cassandra slashed at a vampire with her silver-bladed daggers, taking it to the ground where she could lop off his head. After burning so much of her blood power, she was starting to tire. Nearby, a vampire tackled Benchley from behind. Cassandra started toward him when she saw Cian materialize next to the fallen man and jerk the vampire off him and toss it into an oncoming group about to tackle them.
Aimee and Baptiste set the attackers on fire with a combination of magicks. The cool damp air filled with ash while steam rose into the night.
The Summoner’s vampires were relentless in their madness. Cassandra swept her blade through the neck of one vampire, then seconds later felt fangs clamp down on her shoulder. With a scream of pain, she grabbed the attacker’s thick dark hair and wrenched it from her flesh. The vampire’s teeth rent a hole in her sweater and skin. Cassandra tossed the growling creature to the ground with an angry grunt. Before she could move in to kill it, Aimee hit it with an orb of light that set it on fire.
Blood, hot and coppery, pumped from the wound and Cassandra pressed her hand against it to staunch the bleeding. The vampire had hit something major. She had to burn even more of her blood power to heal, making her dizzy. Cian abruptly landed before her and grabbed her hand away from the wound. Without hesitation, he clamped his mouth over it and she felt his cold tongue probe the wound. Aimee slid through the air toward them, bolts of magic erupting from her hands as she kept the vampires at bay. Removing his mouth, Cian tore open his wrist. Already Cassandra’s wound was starting to heal as his saliva worked on it.
“Drink.”
Cassandra hesitated, then grabbed her father’s wrist and took three big draughts of his blood. Instantly, she felt a rush of power hit her like a sledgehammer. It felt great. “Thanks, Dad,” she muttered, wiping the last of his blood from her lips.
Cian nodded and rushed back into the thick of the battle.
“Where are the ghosts?” Benchley exclaimed.
Jeff pounded another stake into a vampire, then scuttled toward another one. “No clue!”
“Keep fighting,” Cian ordered.
With a grin, Cassandra dove into a cluster of the vampires, fighting with renewed vigor. Her blades flashed in the streetlight as she slashed, feinted, twisted, and fought her way through them. Eduardo battled near her, his claws covered in blood and flesh. It was a deadly tango they danced through the vampires. The fledglings’ only advantages were their insanity and numbers. With many of their comrades moldering on the street, The Summoner’s forces were rapidly falling into disarray.
As the head of the vampire in front of her flew off into an overgrown yard, Cassandra was startled to see a very handsome, pale man standing in the center of the street watching her. White-blond hair fell to his shoulders and his fine-featured face was both handsome and cruel. Because he was clad completely in black, it was as if he was clothed in the very night. When his cold blue eyes met hers, Cassandra’s gut contracted painfully. Fear ripped through her, paralyzing her in place.
“He’s here,” she rasped.
The sound of the blood dripping from her blades filled the night as the world was plunged into silence.
“He’s here!” she screamed, her gaze not wavering from the necromancer. “Dad!”
The Summoner granted her a slight smile as he nodded his head. “The dhamphir is Cian’s daughter. I see.”
“Dad! Aimee! Jeff!” Struggling to move, to breathe, to even think straight, Cassandra was utterly trapped in the power of The Summoner’s gaze. Her daggers fell from her fingers as they grew slack. The numbness that was spreading through her limbs sent her to her knees.
“This will be so much more interesting than I anticipated,” The Summoner said with delight.
Then he was gone.
“Babe!” Aimee gathered Cassandra into her arms. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Gasping, Cassandra saw that the battle was over. The street was littered in the decaying bodies of the fledglings. The suppression spells cast flickering light over the dead.
“Did anyone else see him?” Cassandra let Aimee help her to her feet. “Dad, did you see him?”
“Who, Cassandra?” Cian strode toward her, wiping his blades off on his jeans.
“The Summoner. He was right there. Watching us.” Cassandra pointed to the spot where the necromancer had stood.
“I didn’t see Bianca,” Jeff said, his face somber.
“It wasn’t Bianca. It was him. I saw The Summoner as himself.” Cassandra ran shaking fingers through her hair. “He looked at me and I was paralyzed. His power was overwhelming.”
Cian and Aimee glanced at each other, both appearing unsure.
“I saw him! I swear to God, Goddess, and all that is holy that he was standing right fucking there.” It still hurt to breathe even though she was released from his power. “He said something about me being your daughter, Dad.”
With a somber look, Cian sheathed his weapons as Baptiste and the others gathered behind him. “How did he know you’re my daughter?”
“I called for you.” Cassandra winced, realizing her folly. “Sorry.”
It was shocking how much older her father suddenly appeared. Cian’s expression projected clearly what he was thinking. Cassandra had just granted The Summoner yet another pawn to play against Cian. “It’s fine. He would have figured it out eventually. We do look a bit alike.”
“But how could he be here? Isn’t he in Bianca’s body?” Baptiste asked. He smelled of smoke and rain, a strange combination.
“Astral projection,” Aimee said in a glum voice.
“But wouldn’t that let Bianca free?” Benchley looked at Jeff. “If she’s possessed by him and he left her body, she’d be free to escape.”
“Unless she’s not in the body, and it’s just an empty shell,” Jeff answered.
“Or they tied her up.” Eduardo was naked, human, and slathered in blood. The grin on his face was a little disconcerting, as was his big erection.
Cassandra and Aimee both made a point of looking away from it.
“Tied her up?” Cian mulled this over. “A possibility.”
There was a shimmer in the air then Roberto appeared. The ghost looked almost human, his edges solid. Only his strange hollow eyes spoke of his true nature. “You need to get back to the house. There was an attack.”
“Is Samantha okay?” Jeff and Benchley asked in chorus.
“They couldn’t breach the wards, but there was a skirmish in the street,” Roberto answered. “It was over almost as fast as it started. I took care of it along with Amaliya’s zombies. But that’s not what has them spooked.”
“Did you see The Summoner?” Cian asked pointedly.
Roberto looked at his former friend in surprise. “Yes, we did.”
“In his old form?” Aimee’s fingers were trembling in Cassandra’s grip.
“Yes, but then Amaliya saw Bianca. Inside the house.” The ghost flickered. “Samantha is calling me back.”
“This just keeps getting more and more fun,” Eduardo decided.
“Put some clothes on, Eduardo, and stop showing off” Cian said, then motioned to the bodies. “Baptiste?”
“On it.” The elemagus set the last of the vampire bodies on fire, burning them embers in seconds. A strong wind followed, scattering the remains along the road.
Aimee flicked one hand and the suppression spells fell.
“Let’s head back.” Cian slid his arm around Cassandra’s shoulders and guided her toward his car.
“Dad,” she said in a lowered voice, “I’m really sorry.”
To her surprise, he kissed her temple. “Never say you’re sorry for something that isn’t your fault. You were immediately a target once you joined my cabal. Now you’re just a little more interesting to him.”
Suppressing a shiver, Cassandra glanced toward her girlfriend. The witch gave her a worried look along with a faint smile. Tightening her grip on Aimee’s hand, Cassandra wondered just how much
worse things could get.
She was afraid they were going to find out.
“It was a flicker,” Amaliya explained. “I saw Bianca for just an instant. She looked like she was in distress.”
Cian rubbed the whiskers of his goatee between his fingers as he listened to Amaliya speaking. They were in Jeff’s kitchen, the crew scattered across the room. Some were eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, while others were sipping hot chocolate. His daughter kept giving him apologetic looks that didn’t help his mood. He wished adamantly that she hadn’t slipped and revealed who she was to The Summoner, but he also knew it was only a matter of time before their enemy would have sorted it out. He was hungry and tired. The attack had come early enough in the evening that he hadn’t been able to feed yet. It had been a deliberate ploy and a smart one to catch him when he was weak.
“Did she look tied up?” Eduardo asked, then shoved an entire sandwich in his mouth.
Amaliya gave the coyote a disgusted look.
“Eduardo thought maybe The Summoner had Bianca tied up while he astral projected so she couldn’t escape,” Jeff explained.
“Oh. No, she didn’t. But would she? If she was out of her body, too?” Amaliya gave Benchley a quizzical look.
“Well, probably not. It would have been a projection of her body, but not her actual state,” Benchley decided. He was busy helping his sister make an obscene amount of sandwiches. The battle had exhausted everyone and they were cramming calories to recover the energy they had burned.
Cian wished he could eat a sandwich and replenish himself. He craved blood and his veins were starting to burn.
“Anyway, she appeared just for a second. Right there.” Amaliya pointed to a spot near the back door. “Then I heard Samantha screaming outside.”
“That’s when they were assaulting the ward.” Samantha was peeling the crust off her sandwich like one long ribbon. “Alexia and I were going over all the emails from the stupid Assembly when they started hitting the ward. It was really loud. We rushed outside to make sure it was holding and that’s when we both saw him down in the street. I’d recognize that asshole anywhere.”
“He was scary and creepy in a handsome way,” Alexia added. She licked the peanut butter off the butter knife before tossing it in the sink. It clattered loudly.
Benchley did a little hop, startled.
“Shark Boy, you okay?” Samantha asked.
“A little rattled about the big bad showing himself,” Benchley admitted.
“Why do you call him Shark Boy?” Baptiste leaned one elbow on the kitchen table and slanted toward Samantha. “I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Peter Benchley wrote Jaws.” Samantha shrugged her shoulders. “I’m random like that.”
“Ah,” Baptiste said, though he sounded a little mystified.
Cian listened to the people around him prattling on, but his thoughts were concentrated on the trouble at hand. The incursions into his city were growing more numerous. Cian was certain that The Summoner was trying to ascertain exactly how much firepower Cian had on his side.
“There were a lot of vampires tonight,” Benchley continued, his attention on Samantha. “They were really young, hungry, and out of their heads.”
“It explains all the missing people, doesn’t it?” Alexia took a seat at the table and tapped on the map she had laid out. Red dots showed the locations of all the people who had gone missing in the last few weeks. There was no real pattern to discern.
Cian knew that the human girl had been working on trying to locate The Summoner’s haven in San Antonio using police reports and news articles. Aimee couldn’t penetrate the massive black magic spells coating the city. San Antonio was in chaos. The crime rate was escalating while earth tremors made the authorities and inhabitants nervous. Though the media joked about the ground shaking was a sign of the coming 2012 apocalypse, Alexia took it very seriously. Earthquakes were not common in the region.
The cabal chattered on, but Cian didn’t pay them any heed. The night’s events had revealed something very important and he wanted to use it to his advantage. Raising his eyes, he saw Amaliya staring at him with curiosity. They were more connected than ever, intertwined in a way that was thrilling and comforting. She settled back in her seat, flashed a grin, and played with her pack of cigarettes on the table. Apparently, she had overheard his thoughts.
“It’s time to make a move,” Cian said at last, and the conversations around him fell silent.
Part Five
Trap
Chapter 19
November, 2012
Amaliya watched Samantha eating the hamburger and fries with a look of utter distaste on her face. It had been eight months since the vampire had eaten actual food and staring at it now did not make her miss it. It looked disgusting and smelled even worse. Yet Samantha happily dunked the potato spears into ketchup and wolfed down the juicy burger.
“That’s so fuckin’ gross,” Amaliya said at last, her lip curling with distaste.
“Look, bitch-face, you dragged me all the way to Waco, so the least you can do is let me eat my supper in peace, okay?” Samantha gave Amaliya wide, fake smile, then took an obscenely large bite of her burger.
“Do you have to eat it so...messily?”
Rolling her eyes, Samantha shoved another fry in her mouth.
Seated inside the Denny’s on the outskirts of Waco, Texas, the two women were awaiting the arrival of two emissaries from the vampires who ruled over Dallas and Houston. The restaurant was attached to a big truck stop that catered to the long distance drivers. A few weary-looking families were clustered around tables and a young teenage couple flirted outrageously in one corner. Two truckers sat at a corner table nursing cup after cup of steaming coffee.
Though it was Thanksgiving Day, there were already Christmas decorations on the walls. A year ago Amaliya would have been sitting in her father’s living room watching TV while recovering from a massive feast of fried turkey and all the traditional side dishes. This year she was steeped in the middle of vampire politics, a supernatural war, and considered dead to her family.
Tilting the brim of her black straw cowboy hat, Amaliya glanced out into the darkness filling the world beyond the windows of the restaurant. Her necromantic power slithered out of her, tasting the night. The dead tucked into the graveyards in the town stirred in their graves, but Amaliya left them to their rest. She didn’t sense any vampires lurking, but in the last few months she had learned that she wasn’t always able to detect supernatural creatures.
“Roberto says it’s all clear,” Samantha informed her. She dabbed the remains of her burger into a blob of ketchup before shoving it into her mouth.
The mere mention of the ghost Samantha used as her personal assistant brought a frown to Amaliya’s face. She didn’t like Roberto in life and definitely not in death.
Folding her arms on the table, the heavy studded leather bracers on Amaliya’s wrists clunked against the surface. “Tell him he better keep an eye out for black witches. We don’t need to get jumped by them again.”
“He heard you. He’s not deaf,” Samantha reminded Amaliya. “You know, I can make it so you can see him.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you touch him and make him solid so I can punch him in the face a few times.” Amaliya flashed a wide smile.
The blonde flinched a few seconds after Amaliya’s comment.
“Did he just say something?” Amaliya demanded.
“Kinda.” Samantha made a big show of drinking her soda.
“What did he say?” Amaliya leaned forward, her blue-gray eyes raking over the area surrounding their table. The arrogant ghost was probably being a dick again. They had not liked each other when he’d been alive, and that animosity had not diminished with his death.
The phasmagus continued to gulp down her drink, making sure she couldn’t answer right away. Maybe she was right to avoid answering. The atmosphere was tense enough as it was without adding
to it.
“I need a cigarette,” Amaliya groused.
“You’re a vampire and still addicted. So sad,” Samantha shook her head. She was teasing Amaliya, trying to alleviate her anxiety.
Amaliya snarled, but it was playful. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders to her waist, covering her tank top. Her rebellious streak had hit her at the last minute before their departure from Austin and she’d shed her plain black shirt for one that read “Jesus was a long-haired rebel against the establishment.” Waco was the home of Baylor University, a very conservative Baptist enclave and during her mortal life Amaliya had been the brunt of some nasty comments when in the area. She had to admit she had dressed to provoke. Already she had garnered a lot of uneasy looks due to her skin tight black skinny jeans, her high-heeled platform sandals with studded heels, her tank, leather bracers, and her straw cowboy hat adorned with raven feathers and a bird skull on the brim.
Samantha, meanwhile, was in blue jeans, a pale pink sweater, boots, and a dark-rose leather blazer. It was bitingly cold outside, but Amaliya was immune to it.
The waitress set down a refill for Samantha’s drink and stared at Amaliya’s arm for a long moment. “What happened to the middle of your tattoo?”
A scar adorned the spot where a rosary had been etched into her skin. When she had transformed, the image had burned away. “God doesn’t like vampires,” Amaliya said. “The cross went bye-bye.”
“Austin freaks.” The waitress rolled her eyes and stalked off, her full hips swaying.
“Could you be nice?” Samantha hissed, leaning forward, blue eyes narrowing.
“We’re in fuckin’ Waco.” Amaliya shuddered. “Why the fuck did we have to meet them here?”
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