There'll be Hell to Pay (Hellcat Series Book 6)
Page 23
“Mariska,” Gabi called as the group slowed to a walk, Kyle and Lance spreading out to either side of her while Butch worked his way to the far side of the knoll. The woman’s head whipped around, and when she saw who had yelled, her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted into a snarl.
“You,” she spat.
“Yes, me,” Gabi said with an unfriendly smile. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Wind swirled around them both, tugging at Gabi’s hair and clothing, bringing her a brief but familiar scent of dead animal. She was pretty sure it was dog or maybe wolf. The tree beside the Dark Magus bowed under the onslaught, branches whipping from side to side. Thick cloud continued to roll across the sky, low and ominous, throwing the graveyard into a murky gloom.
“You should have found me earlier,” Mariska screeched, her face changing, losing some of the crazed expression, a vicious glee lighting her eyes. Thunder crashed and lightning forked through the dark cloud, illuminating the scene and showing Gabi that Mariska now stood alone; the Moleman had vanished. “My power has returned. You cannot take me now. The imbecile chose well. A graveyard is exactly where you need to be, you unholy abomination.”
Wow, sticks and stones, Gabi thought. Aloud, she shouted to be heard above the storm, “That’s rich coming from a Magus who consorted with demons and performed Blood Magic.”
The woman only snarled in response, raising her hands as another bolt of lightning ripped the dark apart, striking the ground on the far side of the graveyard. Gabi glanced over at Lance, but he shrugged helplessly, his eyes a little rounder than normal. Weather Magi were rare, and a Dark Magus who could control the weather was probably unheard of, but Gabi had hoped Lance would have some ideas on how to curb her.
“Hand yourself over to us, and we’ll protect you from the Magi High Council. You have the right to be a mother to your children,” Gabi called out. She didn’t really mean it, and it was an extremely long shot, but if they could resolve this quietly…
“My children?” Mariska screamed through clenched teeth. “Those things aren’t my children. As soon as I am finished with you, I will find them and send them to join you in the afterlife. They will not usurp me. I am the prophesied one. Me, not them.” She brought her hands downward with a flourish and two lightning strikes hit the hill just metres from them, shaking the ground, leaving Gabi momentarily deaf and blind and almost throwing her to her knees. Razor hissed beside her.
Blinking her vision clear, she saw the Magus on her knees, digging her fingers into the ground. Shit, Gabi had seen this before; this was Mariska drawing energy from the very earth itself, energy she could unleash on all of them.
“Gabi.” Kyle’s voice reached her numb ears over the howling wind. She spared a glance at him, but she was already tugging the crossbow from her shoulder with one hand while the other reached for a bolt. This time there was no one and no reason to stop her. But Kyle was pointing at something, his eyes wide, his athletic body flowing into fighting stance. Gabi’s eyes followed his hand and the breath left her lungs. On the other side of the sycamore, thick fog was pouring from an invisible source. The stench reached her nostrils just as her brain caught up with her senses.
“Holy mother of…” She notched the bolt she was holding before quickly drawing another handful, redirecting the crosshairs away from the Dark Magus and towards the mass of vaguely humanoid shapes lumbering out of the portal. She glanced across at Lance again, throwing him an unspoken question. He returned her look with regret in his eyes. He shook his head; he couldn’t do the one thing they truly needed, he couldn’t close the portal. They were in deep trouble. They’d fought demons before, more times than she’d care to remember, but they’d never had to take them on with a wide-open portal, not when they didn’t have a Magus to close the damn thing.
She tapped her earpiece; she had to alert the others, had to hope there was a Magus in Alicante who could help them. If not, some of them had to get out and alert the supernaturals in Spain to what was coming their way.
“Julius? Fergus?” she called. But there was no answer, only a static buzzing noise. “No, no, no,” she muttered, pulling out the credit-card-sized receiver from a pocket and tapping it. Still nothing; the lightning strike must have fried the comm units. This was just getting better and better. Phones were useless, they’d all turned them to silent, and there were no surveillance cameras in the graveyard, so Trish and Murphy wouldn’t know what was happening until the demons were running in the streets. Desperate, she tried to reach Julius through their mental link, bashing down her walls and seeking the warm presence of his mind. All she found was a cold, impenetrable fortress locked up so tightly that it was impervious to her pounding. A warm body rubbed against her leg, and she knew there was only one option left.
“Go,” she told Razor, looking down and throwing a cruelly strong thought in his direction. “Run, find Julius or Fergus. Now.”
The cat growled, glaring up at her, defiant, not wanting to leave her in danger. She poured more into the command, tempering her thoughts, showing him how he would be helping, trying not to let him sense her hopelessness. “Go,” she said again.
Razor’s paws began to carry him backwards until he finally turned and dashed away.
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Julius didn’t approach the clinic quietly or discreetly. He allowed his ethereal presence to pour from him, saturating the atmosphere, engulfing anyone sensitive to it. Caspian knew he was coming, would be able to read his death in the air. Julius was close enough to sense the other Vampire now. Caspian had sworn an oath of fealty; that oath bound them, whether Caspian liked it or not. Fergus was a silent, powerful presence beside him.
He felt it when Caspian decided to run, just as they reached the front door of the clinic.
Run, rabbit, run, he thought with vicious pleasure.
Fergus spoke very occasionally of the beast, the force inside him that represented the raw, untamed Vampire boiling beneath the controlled facade. Julius understood exactly what he was referring to. With Gabrielle safely pursuing the Maleficus, he released the chains on his own beast. The creature stretched for a moment, then lifted its head and sniffed.
Run, rabbit, run.
He sensed Caspian leave via the rear exit, and he leapt onto the roof of the clinic, running a critical eye over the streets and homes, committing the area to memory, earmarking the dark, deserted spots. Even the beast knew it was best to keep away from inquisitive eyes. He watched from the roof as his target flitted down the road, a cap pulled low over his face. Julius let him run for a few more seconds and then dropped to the ground. Fergus began to follow, but one warning snarl made him fall back, leaving Julius and his beast to the chase.
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The man in the stolen coat watched as the two blood-suckers approached the door to the clinic. He recognised them both. “Now, we have to go now,” his twin insisted, battering the inside of his head in anger.
“Wait, wait. The time isn’t right.” He fought the headache threatening to consume him.
And then it happened, the Vampires leapt onto the top of the building, stalked across it silently and dropped off the other side.
“Now.” He felt the smile spread across his face as the headache eased.
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Fergus reinforced the chains holding his own beast, whipped to a frenzy by the presence of Julius’s own viciousness released to run free. He knew Julius would be relying on him to keep his head, to pull his Sire back and help him chain the beast once the mission was complete. His Sire didn’t allow himself the luxury often, only twice that Fergus had seen. The beast got things done that Julius found difficult. And so Fergus followed, but not too closely, as the traitor continued to run through the dark streets. He was content to keep his distance, but not prepared to leave Julius completely unprotected.
And then something caught his ears and froze his feet to the ground. A baby’s cry. How long had it been since he’d heard
a baby cry? Since he’d heard his own daughter’s tiny voice. The familiar hurt, the deep down one that never left him but mostly lay quiet inside him, flared to life, once more ripping through his heart with a nigh-on physical pain. Even the beast cowered back from the weight of that pain.
And then he realised what the traitor was up to. He hadn’t been carrying anything when he fled. He was trying to lead Julius away from the babies, the things he’d been hiding and protecting for months. The things he valued above all else. He would be circling back to get them.
Fergus turned and raced back the way he’d come, almost running a small group of tourists over; they shouted at his back. He barely heard them. He smashed through the rear entrance of the clinic, ignoring the biting pain as the shattered glass sliced his hands and face.
There was no sound of the bairns now, so he paused to sniff and listen. The clinic wasn’t very big; they couldn’t be far. If he found a nurse or the doctor, he could roll them and find the bairns quickly, but the place seemed deserted. Had Caspian already found a way to spirit them away? And then he smelled blood. Human blood. Following his nose, he found the nurse behind the admin desk, a pretty young thing with her hair neatly plaited and her uniform spotless, except for the blood. Fergus didn’t pause; she was clearly dead, though very recently. Unsettled, he rushed to the doors labelled Staff and Patients Only. The instant he opened the door, he smelled the smoke. And then he heard the cry. It wasn’t the plaintiff cry of a hungry newborn, it sounded more…demanding…angry…alone?
He rushed down the narrow corridor, already able to feel the heat of naked flames. Flames. His beast stood up and roared. Fire. Run. He ignored it and concentrated on the sound of the bairn. An image of his bairn swam into his mind. She hadn’t been a bairn at the end, his Emelia; she’d been a beautiful young girl, full of life and mischief and as stubborn and strong-willed as her mother.
Thick smoke oozed from a door to his left. He shouldered it open, and the heat hit him like something solid. A wall of unstoppable death.
The vision of his beautiful Emelia’s eyes as she took her dying breath spurred him forward. Into the flames and the smoke. Everything was burning; the curtains were ablaze, the bedding on the tiny cribs, surgical equipment sparking and exploding, ceiling boards collapsing onto the floor. Beside the door a body lay slumped on the ground. A male, probably the doctor, but there was no time to check. There was only one heartbeat in the room, a tiny, rapid one, too fast for an adult. He pushed forward. The bairn lay in a small plastic crib, everything around it burning, but the crib with the tiny human lying inside was completely untouched by the fire. The bairn was looking directly at him, its gaze clear and bright, tiny fists waving in the air, but deep intelligence in it…no, her…he knew the bairn was a girl…in her eyes. She knew him, and she knew he was coming to save her.
Pain seared him as the fire grew hot enough to singe the hairs from the backs of his hands, burning his eyebrows and blistering the skin on his face. Pushing thoughts aside, he ducked a falling roof beam and lifted the tiny girl from the crib. She was so, so small. He unzipped his jacket and tucked her inside, re-zipping it and hunching his shoulders in a further effort to protect her, and then he began to fight his way out of the death trap. He cleared the first door, turning into the corridor. A window burst to his right, and the flames doubled in heat and size. He dropped to the ground and crawled in the general direction of the exit, unable to see more than a few inches in front of himself.
Vampires and fire did not mix happily. He pushed the thought away; he would make it out of this inferno. He would save the bairn. Save this bairn to try to begin to make up for not being able to save his own Emelia. The scar across his face burned as the fire bit at his skin.
And then the door was in sight, and the agonising heat was losing its intensity. He made it out of the rear door into the cool night air and was trying to clear the grit and smoke from his eyes and lungs when he remembered. Twins. The Maleficus had been carrying twins, yet he was sure he’d only heard the one heartbeat. He spun back to the building, but he had run out of time. The entire roof collapsed inward, flames billowing upward, lighting up the night sky, setting off car alarms. The place would be crawling with emergency crews and terrified residents soon. The bairn inside his jacket squirmed and cooed. He placed one hand protectively over her, ducked his burned face, and strode from the scene without another backward glance.
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There were no words. They had the baby. They held the key to the Dark Prophesy and they’d destroyed the powerful key to the Light, left it to burn. The man in the stolen coat paused for a brief moment and looked down into cool, intelligent blue eyes. Against all the odds, they had done it. A smile spread across his face, and he hugged the tiny, warm body close to his own as he walked quickly away from the burning building, keeping to shadows and the darkest alleyways.
“Well done, brother,” the voice in his head whispered. “Well done.”
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Fergus was undecided. Catch up with Julius or unload the bairn first? The girl would need milk and clothing and what did they call those things that covered their wee bottoms? So much had changed since he’d last cared for a bairn. The humans would know more than he did. He switched directions and ran for the cars. A small dark shadow lunging out of the darkness had him reaching for his sword, but in an instant he recognised Gabrielle’s cat. He paused, glancing around, expecting the Consort and the others to be close behind, but the streets were empty. It had grown late, and even the revellers were few and far between. In the distance sirens blared. Razor was clearly agitated, weaving around his legs, hissing and growling, his thick fur standing to attention. Fergus knew something was wrong.
“Sasha, Big Dog,” he called, quickly activating the commlink. “I need ye here noo.”
“We’re on the way,” Sasha’s voice replied quickly. “Where are you?”
He gave her directions and then knelt to look into the big cat’s yellow eyes. The bairn was strangely quiet and peaceful against his chest.
“We’ll go soon,” he reassured Razor. “Dae we need tae get Julius?” He had no idea if the cat would understand him. He knew that Gabrielle and the cat could communicate very effectively, but how much English Razor understood, he hadn’t thought to ask before. The cat purred like an engine for a moment and rubbed his face against Fergus’s, then continued to pace back and forth across the sidewalk, watching the direction Fergus had told the humans to approach from.
The Hummers screeched around a corner and slammed to a halt, both drivers jumping from the vehicles. Sasha reached him first. He unzipped his jacket and carefully extracted the tiny baby; she was swaddled in a hospital sheet and Fergus doubted much more.
“Oh,” Sasha gasped, seeing the tiny girl. Then immediately reached to take her. Fergus handed her over, surprised when the young woman handled the baby with obvious experience. She didn’t have children that he knew of. Sasha glanced up at him and grinned. “Two nieces and a nephew,” she explained with pride.
Relief swamped Fergus. “Great. Find an all-night shop, gie what she needs. There’s cash in th’ vehicle. Then get back tae th’ parking area and wait fur us. If we’re nae back by mid-morning, tak’ her tae th’ airport and get back tae th’ City as quickly as possible. Take care ay her like ye life depends on it.”
Sasha’s eyes went wide, but instead of bombarding him with questions, she gave a sharp nod, cuddled the baby close to her and hurried back to the lead Hummer.
“Tak’ th’ cat. Call Murphy fur directions tae th’ graveyard,” Fergus told Big Dog, opening the passenger door of the other Hummer for Razor. “Get there an’ wait for instructions. Try nae tae get yerself killed.” The large man saluted and jumped back behind the wheel just as Sasha pulled away with one last look at Fergus.
“Alrecht.” Fergus looked to the cat. “I’ll find Julius an’ then we’ll see what trooble yer Hellcat has gotten intae this time.”
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The cat blinked slowly up at him and then hopped into the car.
CHAPTER 18
Fergus could sense his Sire still moving through the city. He obviously wasn’t inclined to end his chase anytime soon; he was enjoying the game of cat and mouse. Fergus had been right, they were beginning to circle back, and he was able to cut across several streets, twice leaping to rooftops to shorten his travel. They were on the outskirts of the old part of the city now, the buildings growing taller and more modern, glass and metal replacing faded brick and aged wood. As he closed in on Julius, he knew his Sire was aware of his proximity. A low growl warned him off once again, but this time he couldn’t back down.
“Sire,” he called. “Finish heem ur I will.”
Julius stopped his chase and spun to watch Fergus approach. His eyes were feral and hooded. “He’s mine,” Julius snarled. “I’ll finish him when I’m good and ready.”
“There is nae time.” Fergus stopped several feet away. “I saved one ay th’ bairns, and Gabrielle is in trooble.”
Julius’s lips curled in anger. “He’s mine,” he roared again, but Fergus could sense the internal struggle. Julius was fighting to cage the beast.
“Yer Consort needs ye,” he said. “She needs ye noo.”
Julius closed his eyes and rolled his head across his shoulders, the muscles in his arms rippling. “If she needed me, she would call me.” Julius still hadn’t opened his eyes as he fought for control.
“Our phones ur off an’ there’s somethin’ wrong with th’ commlink. Razor cam tae find me,” Fergus explained. “There’s a storm ower th’ auld city. An unnatural one. Th’ Magus has ’er powers back.”