Blood Rush: Book Two of the Demimonde

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Blood Rush: Book Two of the Demimonde Page 28

by Ash Krafton


  "Do you know any hit men?"

  "Your Were might."

  "Oh, ha." Why did people keep throwing that into my face? What Tanner did wasn't Toby's fault. "Can you compel him to come here? He can't hear me."

  "I thought Weres had superior hearing."

  "The room is warded."

  A look of puzzlement drifted over his face, bunching his brows. "Why, exactly?"

  "Rode showed me how he set a ward. Good thing he did. The lesson saved my life a few hours ago."

  "But why, exactly, this kind of ward?" The puzzled look sharpened into suspicion. "What have you done with him in here?"

  I knew exactly what we'd done in this room. If Marek couldn't figure it out, I sure as hell wasn't going to volunteer the information. "What kind of question is that?"

  "He created a cloaking ward. I get no impressions of either of you in here. All your actions are hidden."

  "He'd never hidden from me in here."

  "He can't. The ward is set to both of you."

  "You make it sound like I did something intentional."

  "Not you. Him."

  I closed my eyes and counted to three. What could I say to that? "Can you just get Toby to come up here?"

  "No." He sounded weary. "Cannot compel Weres."

  I swore a bitter and creative oath. "Fine. I'll get him."

  "No, you won't. You'll stay here."

  I shot him an oh yeah, right look and got up. Heading straight for the door, I made it to the threshold before circling in a smooth arc and marching back to my seat. As I plopped back down onto the stool, I blew my cool. "You jerk! You compelled me!"

  "And it took precious power to do it. Don't fight me. Just do what I ask. No one else can get here in time. Sunfall begins in less than an hour. It hurts, Sophie. Please."

  "What about poison? Can you drink bleach?"

  He sat up despite the pain it obviously caused—his clamped jaw couldn't mask his discomfort. His wide eyes couldn't hide his shock. "What? You want me to drink bleach? My. You really haven't forgiven me."

  "Cut it out!" I slammed the phone down on the bar in frustration. "Don't you know how hard this is?"

  "Yes," he said sadly. "I do." He leaned his elbows on his knees as he stared me down. "But if you don't kill me, I will Fall. I will die right here in front of you while you watch. When the sun is dead I will rise as vampire, and the first thing I will do is kill you. Then I will scare the living shit out of your buddy downstairs, which will undoubtedly kill him, too. I'll wait here for my brother and his children and I will kill them all. It's what Eirene wanted. I'll fulfill the curse. You'll die knowing you could have stopped it. Is that what you want, Sophia?"

  He stood up and stretched to his full height. "Now stop fucking around. You will end this now. Bring me the sword from over our bed."

  I felt a mental shove as he compelled me out of the den and up the stairs to my room.

  I couldn't fight it. I tried to raise my barriers but his power had a stranglehold on me, a connection I couldn't block. My feet obeyed, even with my eyes clamped shut. I didn't have to open them to climb up on the bed and un-hook the sword from its place on the wall.

  My bed, not ours, I thought angrily.

  As I submissively returned to the den, I heard Marek talking on the phone. He spoke urgently, issuing instructions regarding business matters. With a raised hand, he stopped me at the door.

  I tossed the sword onto the floor with a bang and crossed my arms, giving him the most evil look I'd ever worn.

  "The paperwork has already been prepared. You'll find it in the safe at Chaucer's Square. Do you understand every-thing I've just told you?"

  He listened as whoever was on the other line spoke.

  "That's right. Oh, and brother..." He turned to look at me. "Take care of Sophie. She's going to need you when you get here."

  His imperious tone softened and he swallowed, his throat moving painfully. "Goodbye, Rodrian."

  He flipped my phone shut and, after a few long breaths, dropped it onto the bar. "He's on his way. They have Shiloh."

  I said nothing. I couldn't speak. There was so much in that goodbye.

  "He won't make it in time, Sophie." He sounded subdued, not at all like the bossy prick who just commanded me to do his bidding. "I've made all possible arrangements. I did the best I could for my family. Now I need you to do what is best for me."

  He let his gaze drift down to the sword.

  "Please, Marek. I can't. I couldn't live with myself if I do this."

  "You won't live if you don't," he spat back. "Do you care about anyone other than yourself?"

  Before I made my angry protest, his knees buckled. He doubled over and screamed.

  That scream. I'd heard it before. The night we had been brought to the Master, when Jared was killed. When part of Marek's soul was ripped away by the death of my best friend.

  Marek is dying, the Sophia whispered.

  He looked up at me, agony and desolation making ghosts of his eyes. I'd be forever haunted.

  "Sophia, please! Guard my death!" He wrapped me in his power and submerged me. It was madness and pain and I drowned in the tidal flood.

  I cried out, adding my terror to the flood.

  "Do it!" He hissed and raised his hand to me, fingers curled into claws of pain.

  I couldn't fight the grip he had upon my will. I bent to pick up the sword, and slid the wicked blade from its sheath. "Marek! Stop!"

  "Do it!" Marek drooped to his knees, eyes burning with neon fire. His hair was loose, spread out over his shoulders like a veil of night. His features were tangled with pain, teeth sharp and fully drawn.

  His soul is fleeing, cried the Sophia.

  He blasted me with his power, putting the last of his strength into commanding me. Step by step, I slowly approached him, raising the sword in both hands. His compulsion was impossible to resist. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared down the steel blade at the face of the man I loved.

  Muffled footsteps echoed from the hall. I heard the basement door open.

  "Toby!" I turned my head and screamed, even as I lifted the blade and leveled it at the last beats of Marek's heart.

  Marek pulled my eyes to him with a hiss. "Don't hesitate, love. Do it. I beg you."

  His chest lay beneath the tip. I leaned on the sword.

  "Sophie?" Toby called as he emerged from the basement. "I think I got her all, but I used the last of the pool shock."

  "Help us!" I cried. The compulsion prevented me from turning my head.

  "Soph? Where are you?" I heard his footsteps as Toby stuck his head into the room. "What are you doing, Sophie?"

  I sobbed. The sword had punctured Marek's skin. Crimson spots welled, making dark stains on his shirt. Marek squeezed his eyes shut, biting down and willing the arrival of his fate.

  "He's dying, Toby. He's making me do this. Save him!"

  "I'll save both of you." The tone of his voice was more serious than I'd ever heard from him. A split second passed during which I realized with perfect clarity what he meant to do. By the time it registered, it was too late.

  Toby rushed past me, hands extended, as he forced himself to begin the change. His arms were peeling and cracking, hands splitting with the emergence of claws. He threw himself on Marek.

  The sword flew from my hands and clattered to the floor when they collided. The compulsion snapped off as Marek struck back, and they grappled, Toby's determination against Marek's overwhelming power.

  Toby was no match for Marek, even as wolf. It was a suicide move.

  I raised my barriers and scrambled away from them, kicking the sword out of reach. I'd save him. I'd draw off whatever damage I could and keep his soul for him. He didn't need to die. Reaching out, I summoned the Sophia and reached through my barriers to his power.

  When I touched it, I drew back as if I'd touched a hot stove, adding layer on layer of power to insulate me against his power. He didn't feel like Marek at all.

>   Marek wrapped his arms around Toby, pinning his arms to his sides. His change didn't progress beyond his arms, and the only weapon Toby could have used, his claws, were impotent beneath Marek's hold. Toby snarled and struggled but was clearly outmatched.

  So much anger in Marek, such rage spilling out at this interruption. Fangs bared, Marek struck at the tender skin between shoulder and throat. Black hair swung to cover his face, a curtain to hide the horror.

  Toby's eyes rolled and he sagged, the fight draining out of him. Marek pushed him away and Toby staggered, dropping in slow-motion, first to his knees before sprawling to the floor. Discarded. Threat eliminated.

  Marek raised his head and looked at me, panting. Toby's blood smeared his chin and cheek, giving him a murderous look. His down-turned mouth and drawn brows revealed the pain and exertion this last distraction had brought him. Nothing would stand between him and an honorable death now.

  Desperately, I looked to the sword, where it had slid alongside the bar. I had to do it. Marek hadn't lied. He had evolved. If I didn't do it, we would all be doomed. Toby wasn't moving. It was all up to me.

  No, cried the Sophia. Not like this! This will not save him!

  I ignored her.

  The sunlight that had been streaming into the room seemed to waver a bit before finally fading like stars at dawn. I lunged for the sword, landing hard on my knees as I reached for it. Grabbing the hilt, I twisted and raised it even before I got to my feet.

  Too late.

  Marek roared my name, fear and pain sharpening his voice. It cut through me, straight to the core of the Sophia who screamed back, filling me. He sank to his knees, arms wide, and looked at me with begging eyes before he collapsed onto Toby's body.

  A noise began to grow from somewhere. It was a living thing, this noise. I didn't know if it was wind or voice or song. With the sound came a light, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Everything around me began to glow. I thought I'd begun to pass out but kept my feet.

  My eyes streamed tears as the light reached an intensity that rivaled noonday. I couldn't hear anything but the rushing sound that filled the air and vibrated through me. A wolf howled, its lonely call blending with the wind, fading into the hurricane of noise. The rushing sound melted into a piercing scream. The scream exploded into a crack of thunder that shook the room before it echoed into silence.

  Stillness. Darkness. Emptiness.

  I dropped the sword and covered my face.

  The front door slammed.

  "Sophie? Marek?" Rodrian called from the foyer. His footsteps quickened and I heard him come in. "What's going..."

  He faltered as he drew up behind me. I couldn't imagine what he must have thought to see Marek and Toby lying in a bloodied heap. I couldn't bear to touch his grief yet, not when I couldn't hold my own. I turned blindly to him and buried my face against his chest, sobbing.

  "What is that?" He didn't sound grief stricken. He sounded...baffled.

  A groan from the floor drew my attention and I pulled my face from him to look. Toby rolled onto his side, pulling his knees toward his chest. He'd survived.

  Marek was gone.

  Or...was he? Upon Toby's shoulder, looking cruel and defiant perched a tremendous raptor.

  A falcon.

  White feathers tipped with black Vs streaked a broad chest and dappled its head. The bird stood larger and thicker than a hawk, almost chunky. The impression of power was nearly tangible.

  With a cock of its head it dared us to come closer, raising a pale eyebrow. As we stared in disbelief, its eyes gleamed for a brief moment, a ray of emerald light. Wicked talons threatened to break Toby's skin as it gripped its perch, a pose of command and triumph.

  The front door banged open again. The bird leapt into the air, unfurling massive wings and gathering air and height beneath them.

  "Sophie?" Shiloh's voice echoed from the foyer. "Dad?"

  We ducked as the falcon sailed out of the room. It circled the foyer once before darting toward the open door and the glow of sunset. Shiloh, seeing the huge bird aiming straight for her, squawked and dove out of the way.

  Rodrian and I scrambled to the door as the bird found the open sky. With lazy wing beats, it climbed higher and higher, issuing one last scream before it sailed toward the bloody sunset.

  Marek was gone.

  There were no words. There weren't even tears. My grief and my loss, so great they transcended anything I'd ever felt, froze me. Rodrian hugged me to him.

  "Sorry, Sophie," said Shiloh from behind us, breaking our trance. "I didn't mean to lose your bird."

  I paced and fidgeted.

  Maybe if someone had been passing by the office and stuck their head in briefly, they'd have thought that I was changing a CD or rearranging my desk or merely crossing the room.

  If they were a fly on the wall, they'd have seen I'd been doing the same things for forty-five minutes. My patience had run out and my nerves cried for distraction. How long until they finished with Shiloh? How long until someone told me if she was okay?

  I crossed to the window and pushed aside the sheer curtain, staring down at the bleak, wind-swept grounds. Ragged tufts of long field grass, determined to push through the harsh icy crust, looked yellow-brown and lifeless, dried frail stalks of abandoned life.

  December was slushy and sleety, snow flurries one day and dry winter sun the next, layer upon layer of desolate weather. I regretted wishing for a white Christmas. Only a few days remained before the big day and I was sick of snow already.

  Scanning the skies, I searched for a black and white falcon, so unlike the raucous crows that called laughingly from the woods. Sometimes it drifted over the barren trees, fighting the winds to fly determinedly along its chosen route. I watched for it because, oddly, it brought me peace. Whenever I saw it flying, I thought of absolutely nothing. White noise.

  Not serenity—everything that creature represented was as far from serenity as anything could get without turning into a suicide bomber. The peace was more of an interruption of my constantly-racing thoughts.

  It was the sign-off pattern of 1979 television. It was the flat-line of a telemetry unit. It was the last continuous exhale of a gently dying man. None of those things left room for individual thought.

  A knock on the door broke my trance and Toby cleared his throat. One last time, I swept the fields with a searching glance. Seeing no one, I let the sheer panels fall back together.

  "All done, Sophie. I did the best I could." He carried in Marek's sword and the wooden shield to which it had originally been attached. I flinched inwardly when I saw it.

  I put effort into a smile but my cheeks felt too heavy to make it last. "Thanks, Toby."

  "One of the hooks was broken. You really busted it good when you ripped it down. Anyway, I used some wire to secure the sword to the plaque but at least it won't fall and cut your head off while you sleep."

  "Well, there's a relief. Thanks for that."

  "Hey, no problem. I told you I was here to help you out." His goofy smile faded a bit and he scratched the side of his head. "It's kind of a relief to finally be moving out, what with all the vampire fighting and all."

  "Toby..." I blinked and forced my throat to cooperate. "I can't thank you for what you've done. You've put up with a lot from Rode and Shy but, if you'd given up on us, I wouldn't be here. None of us would be here."

  "I had a debt to repay."

  "Now that Tanner is gone for good, it's me that has the debt."

  "Naw, you don't. Friends don't keep score. Besides." He grinned over his shoulder at Dahlia, who appeared in the doorway. I knew she'd been lurking outside and had been ready to call her in. "I got something wonderful out of all of this."

  "You are so cute together," I said with a smile.

  "See, there you go again." Dahlia blushed and joined us, linking our hands. "Using words that have absolutely nothing to do with me."

  "Aw, not true, baby girl," Toby said. "You're as cute as they
come."

  "Baby girl?" I laughed. I wasn't sure how old Dahlia was but she was no baby. "That's so—"

  "Yeah. Cute." Her mouth twitched with a smothered smile. "Shut up."

  "So you guys are going to make a stab at living together, huh?"

  "Oh, it's just temporary," Toby said, and grinned down at Dahlia. "I mean, until I can get a place of my own and she can come live with me."

  "I can't understand why you didn't want to stay at a safe house, hon," she said. "The Northridge den has a pool in theirs."

  I thought it was funny that a DV knew more about Were stuff than an actual Were but Toby seemed to take it in stride. Dahlia had been in contact with two of the area werewolf den leaders, determining which would be best for Toby. Apparently not all dens were created equal. Last update, she said it was down to a matter of job placement capabilities and freshmen handling.

  I just shrugged and tried to look like I understood. Sounded too much like college.

  I sensed Rodrian's approach as he aimed for the staircase in the foyer below, as if I were watching an infrared thermograph. Or something. His intent to seek me out acted like a signal booster and the Sophia's "ears" pricked forward at the sound of his power.

  Rodrian walked in, taking all of us in with a single look. Before Dorcas touched me, he would've scared the crap out of me by appearing so suddenly. He'd locked his power down; he could move like Ninja or fog when he shielded. Now, some new door was open in my head and I could feel Rodrian despite his barriers. I could feel everyone in the house, if I tried.

  I wasn't trying now. Rodrian's essence bled through his shields and soaked me with his mixed feelings. I didn't need to see his expression. Weariness and relief were evident upon his face.

  He licked his lips. "She's okay."

  I sighed with relief and hurried toward him, slipping my arms around him and resting my forehead against his chest. He wrapped himself around me, letting his weariness slip away. I gently gathered it, folding it and storing it in the place I put all those miscreant feelings: somewhere down.

  Leaning against him, I felt his heartbeat, inhaled his scent, and basked along his warmth. I gave him comfort; his presence comforted me in return. It was a balance.

 

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