Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7)

by Amber Kallyn

  Like his fury.

  At the edge of the forest, the wind stirred, blocking him. The earth's magical spirits tried to push him back the way he'd come.

  Tried to lead him back to her.

  "I'm going home."

  They circled him, bringing warmth, like a soothing hug.

  Startled, he didn't move. His emotions mellowed. The rage dimmed, as if the spirits wanted to comfort and calm him.

  Then it stopped, the air becoming nothing more than oxygen that let him pass. He continued on, unsure what to think, knowing only he couldn't stay here.

  And yet, with a shocking clarity, he knew he'd never be able to forget the way she'd felt in his arms. Never forget her taste, wildness and heat.

  Matt reached his truck and sighed wearily. Now wasn't the time to confront his King. Nor would Jordan allow Matt to help with the futile search.

  Not when he was supposed to be helping the Judge.

  A harsh growl crawled up his chest, caught in the back of his throat. He struggled internally, caught between duty and the repulsion he felt at even being near her at the moment.

  He shoved it all into the deepest recesses of his thoughts—the same place where agony dwelled waiting to bring forth long ago memories of his friends, his family. His children. All of them slain by another of the Council's damned Judges.

  Thankfully numb, almost deadened, Matt climbed into his SUV and drove home.

  He'd simply ignore everything wrong at the moment.

  The woman. The ghosts of his clan seeming to flock to him lately, morose spirits, with blank empty gazes that still managed to beg for help. To find them vengeance.

  Help he hadn't been able to provide.

  Matt forced himself to concentrate only on the here and now.

  He'd go to the hospital. Get some work done. Check on his few patients. There were always things needing done there.

  And work would blessedly relieve his mind of all the rest.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hours later, surrounded by the quiet night, Anca found herself once again far too restless.

  Pacing the confines of her tent didn't keep her occupied enough to ignore the burning in her chest. At the back of her throat. Or the impulse to run after Matt and apologize for keeping the entire truth from him.

  Instead, she grabbed some supplies and headed into town. She was in Arizona to get a job done, not moon over one of the local vampires. Even if he was the most enthralling man she'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

  But this was for the best. If her heart hurt and her stomach twisted now, then it was a for the best that things hadn't gone further between them.

  The forest stirred with the earth's spirits. They rose around her, and suddenly she was wrapped by Matt's masculine scent.

  A heavy voice whispered on the wind, "Hope. Love. Fate."

  Shaking her head violently, Anca backed away and fled the trees, for the safer, silent town.

  She parked at the diner. Going on nearly ten the lot was half empty. Though her stomach grumbled silently, Anca didn't go inside. She strode down the sidewalk, intent on checking the dump sites. One more time. They were the only leads she had at the moment.

  Unfortunately.

  But if she could just find something, anything, she'd be able to wrap this job up. Then, the only thing left would be helping the local Keeper cleanse the land. The earth, its spirits.

  After that was done, there would be nothing, and no one, keeping her here.

  She tracked the sites through town. After the third time finding the Rogue's trails, even colder and more faded then earlier, Anca hunched her shoulders and hurried faster to the next scene.

  Still nothing.

  It had probably been a false hope to think she'd find something new. But what else was there for her to do? Sit around and wait for the Rogues to kill again? That didn't help anyone, least of all her conscience.

  She hit the next couple sites, both more recent. No clues jumped out at her, flashing in neon and calling her name. Nothing gave answers or pointed to where she should look next.

  An almost anxious urgency pushed harder. Faster.

  She had to find something and soon. Anca neared the next nearest scene, the one from the previous morning, seeming so long ago. It had held the clearest, most recent imprints.

  Police tape remained to block the alleyway. Anca ducked beneath it and moved into the shadows between the buildings.

  Still nothing new.

  The anxiety flooding her, buzzing along her nerves, forced her even faster.

  Everything inside, all the strange and painful things roiling inside her, refused to be ignored. Made her thoughts a confused jumble. A touch of panicky desperation plucked at her senses.

  Where to go? The next closest scene? Or follow one of the two trails the Rogues had left, leading from this site. One had stopped at a dead end in the middle of town, on a busy street. The other had led her and Matt to the forest. The wolves.

  She'd seen how well that worked out.

  The clan vampires were currently combing the forest and massive cave system for signs of the Rogues. Anca didn't want to run into that mess. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, debating what to do. Which wasn't like her.

  She made snap decisions, then acted on them.

  Always.

  It was what made her a successful Judge.

  And one still alive.

  Hemming and hawing, stuck in a minefield of confused thoughts and unable to settle on a course of action could easily get her killed if it happened at the wrong moment.

  Goading herself with the danger of death or shame—she wasn't quite certain which would be worse—Anca settled on a decision.

  Her stomach continued to twist acidically.

  She picked up the magic of the Rogues and the trail leading to the center of town. Though she doubted anything would come of it, there was the slightest chance she might see something she'd missed earlier.

  And if not, well, it was only a little out of the way of yet another scene of death. She tracked the faded, barely there silvery threads. From the corner of her vision, she spotted and ignored the flickering glow of a handful of earth spirits tagging along. They couldn’t tell her anything more than she could already see herself.

  Anca got to the end of the trail, finding, again, exactly nada.

  Nothing. Zip and zilch.

  With weariness, thankfully, overcoming the pushy drive of anxiety she slowed her stride on the way to the next scene. Double checking her internal map, she realized she wasn't too far from the train depot.

  Not that the idea of reentering the outer warehouse where so much torture had taken place sounded like a good idea, but it wasn't like she'd ever needed a partner along before. She didn't need anyone's help now.

  A few intersections past the dead end of the Rogue's trail, the hairs on the back of Anca's neck prickles. Her senses buzzed lightly.

  Someone watched her.

  There wasn't even a hint of the slightest sound, but the whispers in the air, the frantic jerky reaction of the earth spirits, alerted her to someone's approach.

  And they were coming fast.

  Finally she sensed them.

  Behind her. Moving fluidly, Anca drew her saif and spun.

  Just in time to be blinded by a brilliant silvery-blue flash of light.

  The scrabble of claws on concrete pinpointed the rushing foes. They came at her from all sides. Blinking against the slowly fading glow of light, Anca strained for her eyes to readjust.

  Her other senses told her more, at least. Many. How many, she couldn't pinpoint. Coming faster. The air sparked with an animalistic rage.

  Anca jumped back, surging from the sidewalk into the street, gaining distance and the ability to see, if not well yet.

  Four wolves stopped on the sidewalk where she'd been.

  Their heads swiveled as one. Angry ice-blue eyes latched onto her. Growls rumbled.

  Their auras were differen
t from what she'd expected. Arctic blue pulsed through the faded peach of humanity. Both colors were entwined with a barbed strand of black.

  Continuing to move as one, the four wolves slowly stalked closer, leaving the sidewalk and joining her in the street.

  Anca inched away but didn't show any hint of fear or worry. She shoved the power of a command into her voice. "In the name of the Magic Council, I command you to halt and desist your attack."

  The two on the right stumbled. A haze dulled their eyes for a second, then cleared.

  They both growled louder. Hackles raised, they took a few more stiff steps toward her.

  In the two wolves' auras, Anca caught a shadowy glimpse of buried magic. Barely there, only a hint, lay hidden—damaged? Possibly—ties of the local packs' bonds. In all the reports she'd read and heard, all those she'd questioned, there had been no hint of the pack working with the Rogues.

  She repeated her command, filling her voice with the magic that few Arcaine could resist. "Stop. Now."

  All four wolves froze this time. A pent up breath escaped her silently. She realized she'd unconsciously been worried her Council magic would slide off of them as easily as it had the wolf lieutenant and the siren.

  From behind her, about a block away, a new howl rent the air.

  The air swirled, the earth spirits jerking at her to run.

  "Stop," she said quietly.

  They settled, but their sparking colors of magic pulsed with fear.

  Another howl ripped through the night.

  Powerful.

  And closer.

  The wolves in front of her growled. Claws clicked on asphalt as they danced in place, wanting to attack, but not able to.

  Holding the hilt of her saif with a tighter grip, Anca poured power into the blade, then summoned the Council's restraining spell. She slashed her sword at the wolves.

  Magic settled over all four of them. Weighty, the air and magic shoved them down, pinning them to the ground. The two on the right, with the shadowy auras that made her think pack, whined horribly, as if under attack.

  The other two silently glared with fury blazing through blue and red eyes.

  Air swirled around her.

  Anca whirled and ducked beneath a shaggy black wolf's leap. The newcomer flew over her head and landed lightly, facing her with loud echoing growls.

  No humanity remained in the very, very large animal's gaze. Only hunger and rage.

  Calling to the power welling within her, Anca threw another spell at this new wolf. It snapped the air viciously, then howled again. Unnaturally loud.

  The sound pounded at her ears, at her temples.

  In a rush of far-too-fast moves, the wolf broke free and slammed into Anca.

  They flew back. She landed on asphalt, the animal on top of her. They skidded, road rash flaring over her arms and back.

  The wolf's weight compressed her chest. She couldn't breathe.

  Before they came to a complete stop, Anca threw herself into a roll, going with the energy of the skid.

  The wolf tried to dig in with its claws.

  Her blouse shredded easily. Slashes ripped along her stomach.

  She managed to get her arms between them and continued to roll, at the same time, she drove her elbows into the wolf's ribs.

  Bone crunched. The animal tumbled off and over the road, remaining eerily silent.

  Anca stopped on her hands and knees. The salty sting of sweat on cuts grew from head to toe, the most notable being a throbbing ache at her temple. When she blinked, her right eye took on the reddish hue of blood.

  Adrenaline pumped through her veins at the same time a steady calmness drew over her nerves. She scrambled for her sword.

  Hackles raised, already back on its feet, the wolf bared its teeth. It snapped at the air, then howled again. Long. Louder. Impossibly. Loud and powerful.

  She fought the instinctive urge to drop her saif. To cover her ears against the beating magic.

  Behind her, the wolves she'd pinned down strained harder, their claws clicking on asphalt.

  The overgrown black one commanded her full attention. Hindquarters low, muscles bunched, gaze tracking her every movement, it readied to leap.

  Question was, who would attack first, him or those behind her?

  Gathering her magic close, Anca expanded her senses. She watched the worried, fearful colors of the earth spirits.

  Aches and pains throbbed or stung over her entire body. She'd be colorful tomorrow. Assuming there was a tomorrow.

  Weakness tried to spread, her strength and power draining too quickly.

  With the shakes in her legs and arms, things weren't looking very good.

  She let the night fill her senses.

  Now wasn't the time to give into weakness.

  She shoved it all away, clenched her power tight, and let the night fill her senses. Aware of the slightest movement, a brush of fur on the breeze, a scrape of claw on the street.

  The air stirred a split second before the black wolf surged. In the same second, some of the animals behind her attacked.

  Anca loosed her power. It exploded, slamming a barrier up. Two wolves hit it from behind. Garbled screaming howls of agony were a song on the night. The smell of burnt fur and flesh clawed into the back of her throat.

  She didn't have time to check their status, could only hope them incapacitated. Because the black wolf didn't crash and burn at her shield.

  As if it was nothing, the animal burst through her barrier. It's claws dug at her arms and chest. Fetid breath made her gag. Sharp teeth cut across her chin.

  She slammed her head down, protecting her throat. The wolf didn't react when she rammed the top of its muzzle with her chin.

  They fell, the asphalt hard against Anca's injuries. Her head slammed with a thick thunk. Pain drove through her. Bright strobe lights flashed, turned her vision white, then black.

  White. Black. Over and over.

  The animal once more pinned her to the street, compressing her lungs.

  Pinpricks starred her vision. In a rush of fading magic and strength, Anca called the last of the power inside of her, the magic residing in her saif.

  Her tată's magic flooded the area. Mixed with her own.

  Anca shoved every last bit into the blade. Stabbed the wolf in the heart.

  It howled against her ear. The sound drowned her senses.

  Claws and teeth frantically scrabbled at her, but the wolf's strength was fading fast. It didn't have enough to mortally injure her.

  Not anymore.

  Not with her magic destroying the animal from the inside out.

  It staggered a few steps away. Fell to the ground on its side. Dark eyes glared, the wolf's thoughts still on hunger and killing, even with its dying breaths.

  Anca dragged oxygen into her lungs. Frozen, exhausted, with her mind still circling dizzily, she watching the light of life fade from the crazed animal's gaze. Moments later it stilled, silent.

  The world spun but she struggled to stand. Slowly, the ringing, stabbing pain in her head lessened a bit. Enough for her to try to think.

  She surveyed the three dead wolves.

  Wasn't this the perfect end to this day? More deaths on her conscience. Warranted or not, it bothered her greatly.

  She didn't even know the names of the slain.

  Anca shoved the idea away.

  It tried to reach for her again, to bite at her, but then it stumbled and fell away.

  Climbing to her knees, Anca glanced back at the other two wolves. And their auras, holding magic disturbingly close to that of the local pack. They both remained bespelled, pinned to the street about fifteen feet away, glazed eyes dim and unfocused.

  Without notice, without even a hint of warning, another furry creature slammed into Anca's back.

  The impact sent her crashing forward. She stumbled over the dead black wolf, and fell, scraping her knees deeply. The ringing in her ears came back. Darkness edged her vision.

/>   Claws swiped at her back, opening new painful wounds.

  Gripping the hilt of her saif, Anca shoved the blade back along her side.

  The creature behind her roared as the sword bit deep.

  A huge paw swiped the side of her face. Her head hit the ground again. For long minutes, she saw nothing but blinding stars. When everything quit spinning, she slowly sat up, then stiffened.

  Her two captive wolves were gone.

  So too was her latest attacker. Gone and she hadn't even gotten a clear look at him.

  It took her a bit to climb to her feet. A headache bloomed with thunderous beats at her temple. Pain radiated over every inch of her body. Blood oozed from numerous wounds, some pretty bad, considering her woozy sluggishness.

  A shiny pickup truck screeched to a halt a little down the road.

  The Keeper got out of the driver's side. Shane Spencer shot her a scowl. From the passenger side stepped a tall woman. Long dark hair fell straight around her pale face.

  Anca blinked at the familiarity.

  One of the women from her visions at the burned farmhouse.

  Her vampiric aura flashed with strength, not only of magic, but of great will.

  They headed toward Anca, side-by-side, their arms and legs brushing. If their closeness hadn't been enough, the look in the vampire's bright eyes when she glanced at the Keeper would be.

  The woman stared at the three dead wolves lying in the street, then glanced at Anca with an impressed smirk.

  The Keeper's voice was soft, but held an underlying anger and accusation. "What the hell happened here?"

  Anca started to shrug. The flare of pain stopped the movement. "I was attacked." Her voice came out a bit hoarse, dry.

  Shane shook his head, staring at the dead wolves. "They're not pack."

  "No." Still woozy, Anca spoke before her brain caught up and stopped her. "How does a Keeper having a relationship with a vampire work? Wouldn't that be considered taking sides?"

  The woman flashed Anca a small grin.

  Shane waved at her. "Niki DeVeraux, meet the representative from the Magic Council, Anca Fieraru."

  Niki arched a brow. "So that's how you were able to take down three of these damn Rogues plaguing the town."

  Studying the smaller details of the woman's aura, Anca realized she wasn't tied to the clan. The bonds were there, but not closed. Another rare oddity.