Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7)

by Amber Kallyn

  "Who was it that died?" The comfort in her voice somehow dimmed his anger.

  He resisted the luring call for long moments, then without thinking through why he would share such close details, quietly replied, "My wife. My children. My entire village. Twice."

  Old fury washed through his veins. Drenched his vision with crimson. He wanted to rage, to destroy, to scream to the night around them.

  He concentrated on the only thing still clear in his blurred vision.

  Anca's face.

  Her gray-blue eyes filled with a knowing empathy that beckoned to him, that said this bit of a woman somehow understood all that roiled inside him.

  She understood not just the loss of one or two, but of everyone and everything once loved.

  She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

  An electrical shock zipped over his skin. A soft breeze swirled around them. All he could smell was her cherry blossom and wildflower scent.

  It was a douse of cold over his raging emotions. Breathing deep, he slowly calmed.

  What was it about this woman that could make his emotions swing so widely, so fast? He stepped back, not able to deal with anyone's touch right now.

  Especially not a woman who worked for the damned Council.

  He crossed to the other side of the cave entrance, thankful when Anca resumed her seat on the old log.

  And why the hell had he told her all he had? He didn't like sharing personal things with anyone other than a select few. Those few he trusted with not just his life, but his soul.

  His thoughts turned to linger on the depthless pain in Anca's eyes. The same shadows of agony that he'd experienced. Her words about the Romani clarified a couple things. She'd said almost five centuries. Early 1500's then. Right around the time he'd been turned. In Europe, it had also been the start of the despicable purge of the Romani.

  She must have been only a girl when forced to flee with her family. If she truly understood his pain, then she too had lost her entire world, down to every last person she'd loved. She kept a distance between herself and those around her, the same as him. Because letting people close meant the risk of more agony and darkness. There were few enough he'd found worth the potential cost.

  "Be wary." She spoke tight and low. "Something comes. Powerful."

  He closed the distance between them. A blast of magic slashed across his back, spinning him, slamming him face first into the rock wall he'd recently climbed. His forehead smacked hard, leaving his ears ringing. His nose broke with a flash of white-hot pain. Blood spilled from his temple into one eye.

  He shoved from the rock.

  They crouched behind the nearest concealing bushes.

  Concern sharpened Anca's voice. "How hurt are you?"

  "I'm fine." He wiped a hand over his face, unsurprised when it came back wetly red. Face wounds and broken noses bled profusely. The dizziness concerned him, until he gritted his jaw, and ignored it. He wiped more blood from his eyes, blinking his vision clear.

  The shadows of the forest undulated. Wind whipped the upper branches.

  But no one appeared.

  Anca nodded at the field of trees. "I can't sense them now. I'm fairly certain they didn't leave, though."

  Matt glanced at his watch, surprised to see that instead of hours, it had only been ten or so minutes since he'd called Shane. "Backup's on its way," he said under his breath.

  Anca shrugged. "Supposed to be."

  "What's that mean? Shane can be trusted."

  She glanced at him with unreadable eyes. "Even though he works for the Magic Council?" she replied snidely.

  Uncomfortable acid twisted in his gut. Matt repeated, "The man can be trusted."

  "I don't doubt that." She paused, stiffening, staring out at the forest with all her attention. A long moment passed.

  He felt nothing out there. It didn't mean a damn thing, though, not with his limited magic.

  Finally, she continued, "Depending on what kind of power the Rogues have out here, they can prevent your Keeper from arriving soon enough to help. We need to keep that in mind, and not depend on it."

  Made sense. "Tell me what you felt before the attack."

  "Powerful, but not anything outrageous. Problem is, if they're cloaking themselves now, they were most likely doing it earlier too. For all I know it's the Mistress herself, though I doubt it." She sounded confused.

  "What's the matter?"

  Shaking her head, she replied, "Nothing. I'm just getting pissed off at these Rogues abilities to counter my magic. It shouldn't be possible."

  The air stirred around them. To their right, leaves danced frantically, soundlessly. Unnaturally.

  "We're being surrounded." Anca's eyes darkened, ringed with red. "We need to move. Now."

  Keeping low to the ground, she followed the leaves.

  He shot her a sharp glance but stayed at her back.

  The leaves jittered over the ground, then stilled.

  "They're here. And by the feel, they've set up wards around us. We're not getting out easily." Anca straightened, drawing her curved sword. "Să te ia dracu. That's why they didn't attack right away."

  A hissing rose.

  The shadows to the right, where they'd been heading, darkened and undulated. A man, vampire but not clan, rushed Anca.

  Instinct rose. Matt didn't think. He just moved.

  He pushed Anca behind him and rammed the vampire.

  Protect. Defend.

  He shoved the man against the cliff, grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed the guy's face on the rock, once, twice, again. The vampire went limp. Matt let him fall to the ground.

  More came, dispatched quickly by his fists and Anca's sword.

  After what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than minute, everything stilled. The forest fell deathly quiet.

  The fallen Rogues around them didn't so much as twitch, though not all were dead. Yet.

  "Come on, come on..." Anca whispered almost soundlessly. "What and where is this magic coming from?"

  All around them, a deep groaning rumble built in the forest. Birds took flight, squawking loudly. Small animals exploded from the underbrush, racing away from whatever approached.

  Somewhere not too distant, an animal screamed, sounding like a woman in grave peril. A mountain lion possibly.

  Anca urged Matt quickly along the cliff face, away from the cave. "Can you feel it?"

  A rush of hot air, wet and fetid, washed over him. Like hundreds of tiny razors, magic slashed at every inch of his exposed skin.

  "What is it?" He calmed his nerves, settling his center, readying for anything that might attack.

  Fangs bared, lips twisted in disgust, she stared out at the forest. "No. It's not possible. Not here."

  Before he could ask what she meant, Anca turned to him.

  She whispered something, "I'm sorry," perhaps, then jammed the hilt of her sword against his throat.

  Gagging from the blow, Matt didn't even see the next.

  This one full of Council magic that sent him reeling into darkness.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Anca slid Matt slowly to the ground, throwing her magic up into a thick shield around them both.

  The air shuddered with rippling waves of energy. The rumblings beneath the earth abruptly cut off. Replaced by a soft serenade.

  At least she'd managed to knock Matt unconscious before the creature's call enticed him. Male, he was much more susceptible than Anca, though neither of them were anywhere close to safe.

  Not yet.

  For now, her shield would hold.

  Her instincts howled for a decision.

  Fight or flee?

  A fury rose inside Anca, shoving back her pain, her exhaustion. Adrenaline rushed along her nerves bringing a new, if small, wave of energy.

  A revolving thought struck her with hard urgency. No matter what it took, she must protect the man lying unconscious at her feet.

  Not only for duty. Or even because
his defenselessness was her fault. Necessary, but her fault.

  The need to protect him came on a whisper from a strange, dusty place deep inside her. A place she wasn't sure how to deal with.

  Except, that would imply she cared. She certainly didn't, not for this hardheaded, coldly stubborn man.

  A man who carried the same terrors of the past in his heart as her. The similarities, the bonds of understanding between them were shocking.

  Every last fleeing animal suddenly froze. Those in mid leap didn't fall. Wings stilled but the birds remained suspended overhead. Branches fell calm, waiting for the approach of the creature whose magic thrummed through the trees.

  The sweet song, still barely audible, plucked at Anca's senses, trying to sweep her away.

  She refused it.

  For now.

  Each second ticking by allowed the creature to draw closer. Exactly as Anca needed it to. She couldn't fight the thing, not like this. But she could take Matt and flee.

  First she must strike the creature a crippling blow. Slow it down.

  It was the only possibility for escape.

  The song swelled and Anca caught herself swaying to the sweet lullaby. Her energy already began to wane. The struggle to resist the powerful call turned grueling. Anca forced herself to wait.

  Otherwise, she'd never be able to outrun the magic. Not with Matt. And there was no way she was going to leave him to the coming creature.

  The forest shadows flickered. Disappeared in a blaze of light.

  From the blinding glare, a woman stepped into view. Amazonian tall, her abundantly generous curves were covered only by waves of long golden hair, an imitation of the Lady Godiva. With the face and voice of an angel, she glided slowly closer.

  Anca tightened her grip on her saif, pushing all but a few scraps of magic into the curved blade. In the face of such wild power, the sword hummed with the power imbued by her tată. Her father's old-world magic.

  The woman eased over the forest floor with no sound other than the low cadence of her song. Thickening magic pulsated through the air. The dark hungry magic of a siren looking to devour every living thing it could ensnare.

  The constant, warm connection in Anca's soul to the magic of the earth snapped closed.

  Lost.

  Her wards shimmered. Disappeared.

  Air rushed from her lungs. Her stomach twisted. She stood straight and held tight to her sword, drawing courage from memories of her tată.

  She couldn't beat this creature.

  Not by herself. Not without preparation.

  She bared her fangs as the beautiful woman spread her arms. The song became thunderous, crackling over Anca's skin.

  It tantalized her senses. Commanded her to put down her weapon, to enjoy the siren's loving embrace.

  Anca fought the invasion of her mind, struggling as the creature tried to control her. There was little time or strength left to resist.

  She'd have one shot.

  And she didn't dare take time to think it through. Anca lunged across the short distance separating them. Raising her sword, she drove the blade straight into the woman's heart, then poured her magic into the fading aura, pushing it fast and hard along the strands connecting this false apparition to the siren's true self, safely hidden deeper in the forest.

  The magical construct exploded in a shower of sparks. In the distance, had to be less than a mile, a roar thundered.

  The spell broken—for now—the animals hastened their attempt at escape before they could be recaptured.

  There were only minutes, perhaps mere seconds, before the siren reconstructed its lure and sent the apparition back here. Or decided to come herself.

  Either way the creature wouldn't give Anca another easy shot like that.

  She ran to Matt. Ignoring the protest of her body, the screaming of her strength that she didn't have enough, she clumsily jerked and pulled until he hung over her good shoulder.

  Didn't have much time.

  Didn't know how to make it through the wards ominously vibrating ahead.

  Had to go anyway.

  Now, now, now.

  Time was ticking.

  She ignored her scrambled thoughts and took off running—in the opposite direction of the siren. The further away from that thing, the better.

  Minutes passed, her flight stumbling and far too slow with Matt's awkward unconscious weight.

  The siren's song ebbed and flowed as the creature sent its alluring apparition through the forest once more in search of them.

  Finally, the air in front of Anca stirred with sparks of brightening magic. She angled her race toward the clearest signals. Half a minute later, her connection with the earth's magic was restored. A couple spirits raced beside her, barely visible. The farther they ran from the hungry magic of the siren, the stronger they, and Anca, became.

  She just had to ignore the spreading, throbbing pain. Her flagging strength. The exhaustion, and the accompanying burn of her own hunger.

  The spirits stopped. Just ahead, a different magic shimmered in the air. The first enemy ward.

  Behind them, the siren's song grew louder.

  Closer.

  Anca dropped Matt with another quiet apology, but time was of the essence. He'd heal from the bruises. She approached the barrier, studying the magic wavering in and out of her vision.

  It took stretching moments to find the key to the ward's cloak and break it. The magic surged into clear patterns. She traced the colored strands, at once familiar. This was sorceress made.

  The siren song drew closer, louder, almost impossible to ignore. To deny.

  Once more an insistent caress urging her to give in. It surged, as if upon finding their trail, it now careened straight toward them.

  The earth spirits shimmered.

  Anca's magic weakened.

  The song's tempo increased, driving through her like spearing hooks. Grayness tinted her vision.

  Time was gone. The siren was almost here.

  It was too late. If she gave up, the siren would not harm her. She was a woman.

  They were lies, Anca knew, but she felt helpless to resist.

  She glanced down at Matt, unable to ignore the voice in her head assure Anca that she couldn't save herself. She couldn't save the man at her feet.

  But looking at him, seeing the utter air of helplessness that sleep always brought, sent shocks racing through her thoughts. Brought her senses back to life—and back beneath her complete control.

  Ripped from the siren's spell, Anca hurriedly finished breaking the ward.

  Fresh air rushed over her, clearing her head. Borrowing the power offered by the spirits rising around her, Anca managed to sling Matt over her uninjured shoulder again and race deeper into the woods.

  The second ward was harder than the first, but she managed. Her lungs burned, every muscle in her entire body screamed in protest. She dug deeper, pushed herself faster, her grip tight on Matt. Only with the spirits' help did she manage to keep going.

  When the siren's song finally fell far enough behind it could no longer probe her mind, Anca gave in to the tired weakness growing inside. Slowing to a stumbling shuffle, she planned her next move.

  She considered finding Matt's cell and calling the Keeper, let him know what was going on. But Anca had a sinking suspicion why, exactly, a siren would show up when and where it had.

  Odds were, the clan's traitor had either overheard the other end of Matt's earlier phone call, or been told what was going on.

  At the moment, she didn't dare try to find the Keeper's group. Not as weak as she was. Not with Matt unconscious.

  Changing directions, she headed even further from the siren and the cave, toward her campsite hidden near the lake.

  After watching the area for a while, Anca felt certain no one had breached her wards. She didn't rely on sorcery to create them, but her own Romani abilities, which made the magic exponentially stronger.

  As long as she had the time
to set up in advance.

  She gently dropped Matt onto the air mattress in the tent before hurrying out to reset her wards. Widely opening her senses, Anca focused on the protective magic. Most of the powerful strands glowed with the colors of nature, but there was a thin thread of blood red snuggly interwoven through the entire thing. She tugged the dark strands and brought the ends together. When they touched, the magic thickened and glowed a dark orange.

  Outside the shield, the forest blurred and wavered. Now, the entire campsite would be hidden. Only someone with immense power could find them. Like MacDougal. Or the Keeper.

  Back inside the tent, Anca stopped just inside the door flap. Three earth spirits hovered over Matt, their energy flowing around and through him. She felt the brush of healing magic, nonplussed at their actions. Normally, the spirits avoided most people.

  The few lines around Matt's eyes and mouth were relaxed, slightly softening his habitual sternness. His strong features, handsome and bold, took her breath away. With his shirt in strips binding her wounds, his wide golden chest was displayed, thick muscles highlighted by the glow of magic.

  Anca could only stare, heat stirring in her blood. Desire swept through her with unbelievable strength. The memory of being held in his arms, of his demanding kiss, filled her senses with his rich whiskey taste. She might have stayed entrapped until he woke if not for weakness and hunger.

  She slid into a chair by the small table across from the bed, opening her cooler and pulling out all but a couple bags of blood, plus all the ingredients to make a platter of sandwiches. While she ate, she forced her attention to return to the shifter, the vampires and wolves in the cave. The siren in the forest. The Rogues spreading evil and darkness all around this town. The clan's traitor, who seemed to always be in the thick of things, always receiving important information to pass on to this Mistress.

  It still made no sense why they'd picked this town, but a reason must exist. Anca just had to find it.

  ***

  Fog filled Matt's mind.

  Drifted through his thoughts, letting only glimpses of memories through. Pain encompassed his body like a torturous unbreakable bubble. The fog swirled, grays and blacks fading, to reveal a peaceful valley nestled between mountains.

  Small houses sat throughout the valley floor, along a wide river. Rectangular shapes dotted the valley, verdant fields and corralled animals. Light shone from a few windows. Smoke rose from chimneys.