Of Blood and Passion

by Pamela Palmer

  As they followed Octavia into the other room, Lily caught several of her companions rolling their eyes as if they thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. But it didn’t hurt anything or anybody and, in Lily’s experience, that was unusual enough for a vampire to be just short of miraculous.

  Octavia was a tall woman with plain features, nondescript hair that she wore perpetually twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck, and an old-fashioned, Little House on the Prairie dress in a color that might be best described as summer mud. Despite that, there was something about her…a glow that permeated her skin, her body, her very being…that made her somehow beautiful. She was definitely the most intriguing person Lily had ever met.

  The vampiress stood now in the center of the large main room of the house, one furnished rustically with wooden tables and benches that had been pushed against the walls. As the others took their places around the circle, Lily pressed in, too, squeezing between one of the taller young men and Heather.

  Heather smiled and made room for her. “How are you hanging in?” Heather was older than most of them—probably over thirty—but slender and toned with curly blonde hair, and kind blue eyes. Not only was she smart and nice, but she had an air of competence and confidence about her that told Lily that if things went south Heather was the one to follow. It didn’t hurt that Octavia had put Heather in charge of the rest of them, even though she wasn’t one of the Slavas.

  “I’m fine,” Lily replied. “I like to cook.”

  “Good. If you need anything, let me know.”

  With an answering smile, Lily nodded, then turned back to the center of the circle where Octavia closed her eyes, lifted her arms, and began to sing what was more of a chant than a real tune. And in a language Lily didn’t recognize, let alone understand.

  All around the circle, the others did the same, closing their eyes, lifting their arms, attempting to mimic the words. Some of them were pretty good, but a couple of them, including Veronica and, unfortunately Lily, did an abysmal job of it. The word-mangling didn’t appear to bother Octavia. She just continued to chant until Lily began to get the hang of the words and her arms felt like they were turning to lead.

  “Now drop your arms,” Octavia said finally. “And open your palms.”

  Arms came down to a smattering of groans and sighs.

  “Now we call on the power of Mother Earth,” Octavia said, sounding more like a yoga instructor than a centuries old vampire stuck in a vampire otherworld. “Imagine roots sprouting from the soles of your feet, roots that burrow down into the ground, down, down, down to the very center…the white core of energy…the soul of the earth. Feel your roots connect with the power. Now pull that power up into you! Feel the energy bursting into your feet and racing up your legs, your torso, your arms and head…glorious, incredible power!”

  Lily tried, or imagined she tried. In truth, she couldn’t get past the idea of roots growing from the soles of her feet, not to mention the time it would take for roots to burrow the nearly four thousand miles to the center of the earth, if such a thing were even possible.

  “I think I felt something!” one of the girls crowed. “It kind of tingled on the way up my legs.”

  Octavia smiled and nodded. “Good, Jeanette. That’s good. Whether or not you feel anything is unimportant. The important thing is that you know how to pull the energy.” She clapped her hands. “That’s all for now. You may return to your duties.”

  As the circle broke up, Lily turned to Heather. “Do you ever feel anything?”

  A small smile breeched Heather’s mouth. “No, not really. But that doesn’t concern me too much. Before she was turned into a vampire, Octavia was a powerful sorceress. She knows things, Lily. She understands the earth and sun and the energies of people and plants and how all of it intertwines. Before she was turned, she had incredible power. She still has a little, which is why the wolves are afraid of her. But mostly, she just has the knowledge of what she used to be able to do.”

  “That must be frustrating for her.”

  “Perhaps. She’s a good person, older and smarter than all of us combined. And if she’s right about war coming to Vamp City, we want her on our side.”

  “What kind of war?”

  “I’m not sure. All I know is that it has something to do with one of the vamp masters, Cristoff Gonzaga. Most fear him, Octavia included. He’s incredibly dangerous. Octavia believes he’s going to become far more dangerous before this is over.”

  The front door opened suddenly and two tall, powerful-looking males strode inside. Not Slavas. By their air of command, Lily knew they had to be vampires. She froze, her heart beginning to race. But no one else seemed alarmed and a calming hand curved over her shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” Heather said quietly. “They’re friends.” To the men she said, “I’ll get Octavia.”

  “Hi,” Lamar said, greeting the two vamps. “What’s happening out there, William?”

  “Nothing good,” one of them, presumably William, muttered. With his long hair, nasty-looking scar over his right eyebrow, and small gold hoop earring in one ear, he looked like a pirate. A pirate in jeans and cowboy boots. His companion was dressed similarly, though, looked more like a professor with his closely-trimmed red beard.

  The pirate’s gaze surveyed the room, landing hard and suddenly on Lily. “You’re Lily Wang.”

  Her heart lurched, her muscles tensing to make a run for it even as her mind reminded her they were vampires. There would be no outrunning them.

  “What’s going on, William?” Heather demanded.

  “She’s a friend of the sorceress. Cristoff Gonzaga has his troops scouring the city looking for her.”

  His words penetrated slowly through the thudding in her ears, but when they did, Lily frowned. They had the wrong person. Maybe the woman they were looking for was Asian, but she certainly wasn’t her. The only sorceress she knew was Octavia.

  The man shoved a piece of paper at Heather. “They’re also looking for the sorceress’s brother. Have you seen him?”

  Heather opened the paper, which appeared to be a copy of a photo, but shook her head. “He’s not here.” She handed the paper to Lily. “Do you know where he is?”

  Lily glanced down…and froze. Her hands began to shake as she stared at the photo of her, Zack, and Quinn. Zack had made it his profile picture for a short time last year. Oh, Zack. Tears burned her eyes. Because she knew he’d been taken for the Games. She knew he must be dead.

  Her gaze snapped up to meet Heather’s. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s you, right?”

  “Yes. And my friends. But not…” She frowned, gazing back at the picture, at Quinn. “Quinn’s not a sorceress. She’s a scientist.”

  “I assure you,” the vampire told her. “Quinn Lennox is indeed the sorceress, and Cristoff wants her badly. He’s now turned his attention to capturing those closest to her in order to force her hand.” The vampire met Lily’s gaze, his eyes filled with determination and little patience. “If he captures you, you will suffer unspeakably. He is a pain feeder and has lost all touch with his soul. Max and I would not have that happen.”

  Octavia swept into the room. “What is this, William?”

  “One of your charges is wanted by Cristoff Gonzaga. Her being here will endanger you all. We’re taking her.”

  Lily backed up, her gaze flying to Octavia, then Heather. “I’d rather stay here.”

  But Octavia simply lifted her hand as if to say, ‘Do whatever you please’.

  In the next instant, the vampire had Lily’s chin trapped in his hand. As his gaze bore into hers, her mind slipped away.

  Chapter 21

  “We have to find Lily.” Quinn was still reeling from the revelation that Cristoff knew what Zack and Lily looked like and that he was hunting Lily, now, too.

  “She’s not at Castle Smithson,” Kassius told them. “My sources are sure of that. They’re trying to fi
gure out where she went.”

  Quinn, Arturo, Kassius, and Micah were still in the small sitting room downstairs, the door closed against intrusion, though there were few left within Neo’s anymore who could possibly intrude.

  “Do you think she was sent to the slave auction?” Quinn’s stomach turned to stone.

  “Sent there? No. But if she tried to escape, she may have been captured by Traders and taken there. I have two men keeping watch on the auction as well, sorceress, and have had for days now,” Kassius assured her.

  Quinn shook her head. “Everyone’s looking for her. She’ll never make it to the auction. The moment she’s recognized, she’ll be taken to Cristoff.”

  “We will not let that happen,” Arturo said.

  “You won’t, if you can help it. You forget, I understand how things work around here. Rarely does anything go as planned.”

  “You can say that again,” Micah muttered. “What happened, Ax? From what Quinn told us on the ride back, it sounds like you used your mind blast.”

  Arturo quickly filled them in.

  “He’s a powerful son of a bitch,” Micah said. “I always wondered what would happen if you challenged him.”

  “There may be a way I can keep him from counterattacking. I sensed…a door…in my mind,” he said thoughtfully. “I felt that if I could somehow close it, I could douse the counterattack. By the time I figured it out, it was too late.”

  “How do you practice something like that?” Quinn asked.

  Arturo shook his head. “I don’t. I hope never to have to test that theory.”

  “So, what now?” Micah leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “Am I wrong, or are we completely out of ideas at the moment? If only we could get Cristoff to take Escalla from the case and leave it behind.”

  “Bram will be watching for any such opportunity,” Arturo told them. “He is fully aligned with our cause and understands our need. If he ever gets the chance, he’ll snatch the sword. But we all know that’s unlikely to happen.”

  “And he’s unlikely to survive the attempt,” Micah added.

  Quinn rested her elbow on the sofa back behind her, pulling one knee up on the cushion. “Let’s look at what we know. We have to break that curse. And so far we’ve identified two potential ways to do that. The first is to reverse it, but that can only be done by the one who created it in the first place—the Black Wizard—and he’s long dead. The second is to destroy Escalla, which we attempted and failed rather spectacularly.” Her mouth twisted. “It’s too bad we can’t bring the Black Wizard back from the dead for a day, or travel back in time and stop him from uttering the curse in the first place.” She peered at her three companions sharply. “You don’t know anyone with gifts like that, do you?”

  Micah just snorted, but Kassius’s expression lit with a rare excitement.

  “I might,” he said.

  All heads swiveled his way.

  “Who?” Arturo asked sharply.

  “Tassard. At one time, he possessed the ability to create a glamour so complete that he literally changed one person into another for a short period of time. Perhaps enough that the person changed could retract the curse.”

  Micah frowned. “I’ve heard that legend, but never saw it substantiated. Besides, where would we ever find him?”

  “Here. In Vamp City,” Kassius said. “A few years ago he came to spend some time with an old friend. If he stayed too long…”

  “He did.” Arturo’s tone held none of Kassius’s enthusiasm. “He’s here. I’ve seen him.”

  Micah’s frown deepened. “Even if he could turn one person into another, he’d have to have something that belonged to that person. Or he’d have to have known them. He’d need something to go by.”

  “He has it,” Kassius said. “Quinn’s blood. She already has the Black Wizard’s blood running through her veins.”

  Quinn looked from one of them to the other. “So, you want Tassard to turn me into the Black Wizard long enough for me to break the curse?”

  “I do not care for this plan,” Arturo said quietly. “Tassard is very old, very dangerous, and extremely unlikely to choose to aid us.”

  No wonder he hadn’t sounded enthusiastic. Quinn glanced at him, saw the stubborn set of his jaw, and thought she recognized what was going on. “You think he might hurt me.”

  “He is a pain feeder, tesoro mio. I know he will hurt you, and he will enjoy doing so.”

  She lifted a brow. “Do we have another option?” A telling silence filled the small room. “Okay, then. It sounds like we need to find Tassard.” The look Arturo turned on her was unhappy, but resigned, as she held his gaze. “Where did you see him?”

  His mouth tightened before he finally answered. “Sakamoto’s.”

  Now it was her turn to frown. “Isn’t Sakamoto Cristoff’s greatest rival, reputed to be as strong as Cristoff himself?”

  Arturo nodded. “He is a dangerous vampire. While his gifts are more defensive than offensive, they’re incredibly powerful and make him a deadly foe.”

  Quinn frowned. “What exactly are his gifts?”

  “The two primary—he can deaden another’s powers with a touch, much in the way a silver cord around the neck will do. And he can phase—move from one place to another instantly.”

  “Even a vampire can’t see him coming,” Quinn mused.

  “That is correct.”

  “Well…if he hates Cristoff, maybe he’ll help us.”

  Arturo shook his head. “He is a very dangerous male, one who is unlikely to allow three of Cristoff’s seemingly most loyal anywhere near his castle.”

  “Let me go alone, Ax,” Kassius said. “I’ll convince him to help, or not. But I have little to lose either way.” When Vamp City died, so would Kassius.

  “No,” Arturo said, “We all go.”

  “Ax,” Kassius said quietly. “I at least ask that you remain here. Micah and I will keep Quinn safe. Sakamoto will have no reason to keep our arrival a secret. Cristoff cannot know you work against him.”

  For the first time, Quinn understood why his friends were so adamant that Arturo remain in Cristoff’s good graces. With Arturo’s mind blast, there was always the possibility that he could use it at an opportune moment to get the upper hand, although that was sounding less likely given Cristoff’s ability to counterblast.

  “Where Quinn goes, I go,” Arturo said. “There is no discussion.”

  As much as she hated to admit it, the tension inside of her eased with his words.

  His hand slid beneath her hair, his thumb stroking the side of her neck. “It would be best if we could leave immediately, amore, while the night is still upon us. But you have not slept.”

  “I’ll sleep when this is over.”

  “I may know of a way into that castle,” Micah said. “Lukas’s kovena, York, is aligned with Sakamoto’s. Lukas would be welcomed there, and can vouch for us. I know where he’s working tonight. We can pick him up on the way.”

  Quinn glanced from one of them to the other. “If this works, if Tassard can, and will, turn me into the Black Wizard for a few minutes, how do I go about lifting the Levenach curse?”

  Her question was met by silence and blank looks all the way around.

  Quinn grunted. “So this is all one big Hail Mary.”

  Micah shrugged. “A Hail Mary is better than no Mary.”

  “True.” Quinn stood. “If no one has a better plan, let’s go.”

  Chapter 22

  “Keep an eye on me,” Quinn said quietly to her companions. “If I fall off the horse, someone catch me.”

  She could hear a low chuckle, one she thought was Micah’s, but she couldn’t be certain. It was pitch-dark out here, a dark like she had never seen in the light-polluted city of home. She couldn’t see the horse she was riding on, let alone anything else, which was making it harder and harder to keep her eyes open when she badly needed sleep.

  The only plus was that her riding skills were poor e
nough that she still tended to bounce in her seat.

  The vampires, of course, could see just fine. As could, apparently, the horses. Only she was blind in the dark.

  Once more, Micah had glamoured her to look like a Slava female, the vampires’ portable snack. She wished she still had Grant’s magic crystal. Knowing no one could sense her fear had helped her keep calm. But after escaping the castle, she and Kassius had rejoined Grant, Micah, Bram, and the others in the tunnels and Grant had demanded its return. She’d given it to him, figuring it was the least she could do now that the entire Gonzaga kovena was trying to catch him. Grant had asked to come with them, but both Kassius and Micah had said no. None of them trusted Grant that much.

  Beneath her, the ground suddenly began to shake. Moments later, the real world erupted not ten feet in front of her and she pulled up hard on the reins. Within the column illuminated by a street lamp, she could see a neighborhood street, a car parallel parking in front of a small, well-lit home. As always, the temptation to walk through that break and return home tugged at her. As always, she ignored it, though the desire to escape this night’s escapades was sharp within her.

  “Quinn?”

  “A bleed-through. I’m going to have to ride around it.” Otherwise she’d get sucked right out of Vamp City again.

  They rode for Sakamoto’s, the castle of yet another dangerous vampire, this one not only as powerful as Cristoff, but with a natural hatred and distrust of Cristoff’s men. Which meant they were all swimming in perilous waters. Sakamoto’s men might try to kill them on sight. Or they might invite them into the castle to find out why they were there, then attempt to torture the ‘truth’ out of them if Sakamoto didn’t like what they said.

  Her imagination had been running away with her since they’d left Neo’s. She knew that, but after her harrowing experiences with other vamp masters, she could be excused for expecting the worst. The only good news was that Micah’s friend, Lukas, had joined them, as Micah had said he would. Lukas was a friendly bear of a man, a blond Swede she’d taken an instant liking to. He’d been stunned to realize that Arturo and Kassius were in league with the sorceress. Apparently he knew them both, but had been wary, still believing Arturo to be Cristoff’s snake. He’d laughed out loud at the revelation, then shaken her hand as he told her he was honored to meet her.