Of Blood and Passion

by Pamela Palmer

  Briefly she wondered if she could, either accidentally or on purpose, steal life forces in this way. But even as she wondered, she knew the answer somehow. To steal the energy from a body, she had to be touching it. She couldn’t accidentally harm anyone around her, whether she wanted to or not.

  “Stop her!” Cristoff’s voice rang out. “Kill her!”

  Quinn’s eyes flew open and the sight that met her gaze sent a cold shaft of fear right through the middle of her heart. Cristoff’s entire guard force was turning toward her, death in their eyes.

  Hell.

  No, nothing was ever easy.

  Chapter 47

  The sounds of battle exploded all around her, the clash of swords, the growl of wolves, the tearing of flesh. Quinn forced herself to keep her eyes closed even as her flesh crawled and her muscles bunched with tension. There was nothing to be gained by seeing the battle when she couldn’t run, couldn’t protect herself. When all were counting on her to disable the foul energy of that force field.

  A spray of warm blood hit her face and she flinched, struggling to hold back the primal scream that tried to claw its way up her throat. Which of her friends had just died?

  Easy, cara. Concentrate on what you must.

  Arturo’s voice, his presence in her mind, helped to ground her. Breathe. She must breathe. Everyone was depending on her.

  Shaking, she forced herself to focus on the energy flowing into her hands. Slowly, she felt Octavia’s strength and power merging with her own, and felt the life-signature of others in the mix, both individually and as a group. Zack’s was there. And Lily’s. It terrified her to think they were close to this battle. In her hurry to reach the front lines, she hadn’t bothered to ask Octavia if they’d have to be close, too.

  With effort, she shoved that fear away, just as she had the others, and forced herself to block out everything but the energy flowing swiftly into her hands. Little by little, the energy flow became less until it was barely more than a trickle.

  “It is done!” Octavia’s voice rang clearly over the field of battle. “The barrier is down!”

  “Come, sorceress.” With no further warning, Quinn felt herself swept into strong arms and then she was moving vampire-fast, the rush of air blowing the hair into her face.

  By the time she could see where she was, she felt herself being set her on her feet beside Octavia, far behind the line of battle. Fabian’s quick grin flashed before he once more disappeared into the fray.

  A strong hand clamped around her arm, steadying her, and she looked into the face of her brother.

  “Good job, Sis.”

  Lily smiled beside him.

  “Yes, well done, Quinn.” At the sound of Octavia’s voice, Quinn turned and met the other woman’s gaze. She’d spent enough time with vampires, now, that she was becoming used to seeing ancient eyes in young faces. But in Octavia’s eyes she saw so much more than years and experience. She saw the wisdom of the ages and a gentleness almost too perfect to comprehend.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Quinn told her.

  Octavia smiled. “That is true. You were in need of my power. But there are few I’ve ever known with the kind of courage you just displayed. As I said, well done.”

  Quinn smiled, then turned back to the battle. As she watched, her army swarmed Cristoff’s guards who, she noticed with satisfaction, were no longer laughing. Too many stood between her and the Focus for her to easily find Arturo, but she could feel occasional blasts of his emotions and knew he was battling those he had no desire to kill. Unfortunately, in the heat of battle, anything could happen.

  A fire arrow arced through the sky and bounced off the Focus to be snuffed out in the dirt. The crack of gunfire erupted in the midst of the battle from time to time. But those deadly arcs of green and gold light continued to shoot out of the small dome, uninterrupted.

  “They’re not dying,” Zack muttered.

  Quinn retrieved her horse and mounted, needing a higher vantage point from which to see what was going on. Zack was right. Cristoff’s forces weren’t dying. Dead wolves littered the ground, as did Slavas and fae. Vampire after vampire exploded, but never Cristoff’s.

  “Cristoff must have acquired some kind of indestructibility spell from the Black Wizard,” she muttered. “Something he was able to cast over his entire army.”

  “Then we’re fucked.”

  She glanced at her brother and had to agree. The only upside was that perhaps Arturo, Micah, and Kassius were protected by it as well.

  Unfortunately, with each failure to strike a blow at Cristoff from the outside, the likelihood of Arturo having to do it from the inside increased exponentially. And if he did, he was going to need her help. She tried to connect to him, tried to feel the connection forming, but he was still too far away.

  Do not attempt to call up your bubble through me, amore mio, I implore you. I do not dare do magic or Cristoff will become suspicious.

  Quinn stopped immediately, but the need to find a way to protect him against Cristoff’s retaliation, should it come to that, burned a hole in her.

  She continued to watch the battle. Having heard the plan ahead of time, she understood what she was seeing when, one after another, Fabian’s opponents—Gonzaga guards—turned away from him to attack their own. He apparently had a powerful ability to enthrall other vampires when he needed to, when cajoling and ordering didn’t work. Unfortunately, his enthrallment wasn’t lasting. Of the three so far who’d turned on their own, only one had actually killed one of Cristoff’s. All three had quickly recovered. Too quickly.

  Now she turned her attention to the vampire master Geert who was standing away from the battle, focused on Cristoff. The plan, she knew, was for Geert to try to mentally manipulate Cristoff out of the Focus. But even as she watched, Geert began to scream, his hands clutching his head. A moment later, his head exploded.

  Dear God. Was that what would happen if Arturo attempted to mind blast Cristoff? He’d told her Cristoff could not attack anyone he wasn’t touching, at least he couldn’t before he came into the Black Wizard’s terrible power. But he could counterattack from a distance. And maybe that was what he’d done with Geert, counterattacked with devastating results.

  Searching, she found von Essen battling with his sword not far from where Geert had just died. The plan had been for von Essen to attempt to steal Cristoff’s power remotely, but she wondered now if he’d aborted that plan after watching what happened to Geert. She couldn’t say she blamed him.

  A sudden movement caught her eye, a blur slamming through the walls of the Focus. Startled, she watched as the blur turned into Sheridan. He lifted a sword as if to strike, but a moment later, his head flew back out of the Focus to land in the dirt, face up.

  Oh, Sheridan. He’d used his ability to breach the Focus to go after Cristoff himself. Vampire-fast, he might have stood a chance before Cristoff became so powerful. Today, he’d stood none.

  Without warning, Quinn felt a fire go through her middle. For one terrible moment, she thought she’d taken a bullet until she realized that everyone around her was suddenly yelling and doubling over in exactly the same way. It could mean only one thing. Cristoff had once more managed to call forth his new world, his world of pain. And if the werecat twins were to be believed, this one wouldn’t fail.

  Chapter 48

  Arturo battled three of Fabian’s loyal soldiers, careful to fight hard but not go for the kill. The roar of a helicopter erupted overhead and he glanced up to find a police chopper hovering above them. Structures began to pop up out of nowhere—not entire streets of them, just random buildings. In some cases only parts of buildings. One erupted close enough to the battle that the vampires and werewolves who’d been standing on the spot were sent flying. Half a dozen moving cars appeared far to his right, but not the roads they’d been driving on.

  Quinn’s army—most of the citizens of Vamp City—suddenly doubled over. Humans began to appear all over the
battlefield, screaming not only from pain but from the blows of swords already in motion when they’d appeared.

  The two worlds were merging, but in an even more macabre way than before.

  As Arturo watched with horror, Cristoff’s guards waded into the pained throng, kicking and flinging the humans out of the way as they attacked the vampires and werewolves, most of whom were in so much pain they were unable to fight effectively. What exactly Cristoff had done to empower his mercenaries, Arturo didn’t know. He didn’t feel any different himself.

  Quinn’s agony blasted him suddenly, her fear that it was all over, that they’d lost.

  Tesoro. It tore at him that he couldn’t go to her, but the only way to help her was to end this. And it was time to do just that.

  “I want Sakamoto,” he growled. Anyone listening—anyone who didn’t know better—would think he was gunning for the vampire’s blood. But Fabian’s vamps did know better. One of them disappeared. Moments later, Sakamoto moved in to battle him.

  “I can’t wait,” he told the male. “He’s never coming out.”

  “And what will you do?” Sakamoto asked, his face a mask of agony even as he parried Arturo’s blows as if fighting to kill him.

  Arturo didn’t respond and Sakamoto’s expression said he knew a secret when he saw one. “You’ll fail.”

  “Probably.”

  “Then wait,” the vamp master gasped, one arm tight around his middle.

  “I already have.”

  “Wait a little bit longer. Once he believes he’s won, he’ll come out of there.”

  “You may all be dead by then. And this world will be locked in.”

  The need to keep Cristoff from hurting Quinn burned through his blood. But he knew Sakamoto was right. Their only real chance of success lay in acting together…if Cristoff ever left the Focus to give them that chance. Sakamoto was one of the most powerful vampires in Vamp City for a reason. If they could get Cristoff out of the Focus, they had a plan. With his abilities to phase and to deaden another’s powers with a touch, Sakamoto would grab hold of Cristoff without the latter seeing him approach, and deaden his power long enough for Arturo to attack him with his mind blast.

  They would get, at best, only one shot. And while there was an excellent chance one or both of them would die, the hope was that they’d be able to disable Cristoff long enough for Kassius or Micah to snatch Escalla and stab Cristoff.

  The thought that they’d be killing his father barely registered anymore. The male causing so much destruction, so much agony, bore no resemblance whatsoever to the man Arturo had once been so faithful to. The Cristoff he knew was gone.

  “He leaves,” Sakamoto said suddenly, then yelled out as if he’d taken a deadly blow. Arturo watched, bemused, as his opponent fell, and to all the world, disappeared.

  Arturo turned to find that Cristoff had, indeed, walked out of the Focus. Finally. The power radiated from him, the bolts of green and gold fire leaping out of him in a wing-like arc, giving him the look of some kind of angel from Hell.

  Cristoff wore an expression of such triumphant cruelty, of such madness, that it made Arturo sick to his stomach. Swallowing his revulsion, he strode forward to meet his master, then fell into step beside him as he’d always done as Cristoff’s most loyal.

  “My world will soon be complete,” Cristoff told him with a grin. He slapped Arturo on the back. “Our world. A world of pain and terror. I shall have to work on feeding my pleasure feeders, for I suspect the only pleasure for some time will be ours.”

  Arturo struggled to keep his expression devoid of the horror he was feeling. “Will the real D.C. continue to exist, my liege? I am fascinated by this world you create.”

  Cristoff’s chest expanded. “Both worlds are mine now. Or will be once the transformation is complete. Those who did not flee, or die, during my creation attempts will be trapped within the ever-increasing boundaries of my worlds. The two will no longer be entirely distinct from one another, merging at odd times and in odd ways, eliciting constant disquiet, constant fear. And of course, constant pain to all but the vampires who pledge undying loyalty to me.” He looked at Arturo, madness glittering in his eyes. “Are you not pleased, my loyal one?”

  “Most pleased.” Most revolted. “How long will it take to form this intriguing world?”

  “As long as it takes. Minutes, perhaps. An hour? It is impossible to say and matters not at all. For it is done!”

  Micah and Kassius strode forward to join their master in his moment of victory. Cristoff nodded as if having the three of them by his side at this moment was the most natural thing in the world.

  Despite a lifetime of diplomatic acting, this was his most challenging role as he fought to hide his fury, his horror, at the slaughter going on all around them, the vicious murder of Quinn’s army. He felt her within him, her desperation for him to take down their foe a powerful force flowing through his body.

  His muscles shook as he kept his hands fisted behind his back and waited for Sakamoto to make his move, praying the male did not lose his nerve at the last minute.

  In the distance, a small cloud of humans tumbled out of the sky over the Potomac. With horror, he realized they’d undoubtedly been inside an airplane that had not accompanied them into this world.

  “God’s wounds.”

  Arturo jerked at the ancient expression uttered by the voice of the male he’d once revered as both master and father. He turned to find Cristoff staring at the battlefield, at what he’d wrought, with an expression of dismay.

  Arturo’s heart gave a hard thump, his mind leaping, as he realized that, even now, the real Cristoff fought to break through. If only Arturo dared to try to enlist the aid of this male before the other returned. But it was a terrible risk, for he’d be giving himself away, and the monster could return at any moment.

  Cristoff turned to Arturo, his eyes shattered. “What have I done?” But even as Arturo struggled to find words, Cristoff’s expression changed, hardening, his eyes once more glittering with cruelty and triumph. “Soon it will be over, my loyal one. Then I will reign supreme and you will stand at my side and all that you want will be yours.”

  Arturo stared at him, then turned away, his body cold, his heart beating at twice its usual pace. He risked a glance at his friends and saw the sympathy in their gazes, the regret. But no doubt. They knew he would do everything he could to kill his own father, even knowing the male he’d once loved still existed somewhere behind the mask of the monster. Because he had no choice.

  And suddenly that moment was upon him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sakamoto appear behind Cristoff and a split second later, Cristoff roared. Then Sakamoto roared. And died just as Geert had.

  Arturo seized the opportunity, leaped out of Cristoff’s reach, and slammed him with his own mind blast. At the same time, he threw up shields, desperate to hold Cristoff’s counterattack at bay, or he would die as quickly and devastatingly as Sakamoto and Geert had.

  Cristoff roared for a second time, this time in agony as he clutched his head. Kassius and Micah acted, Kassius grabbing for Escalla as Micah attempted to slide a noose of silver around their master’s neck. But before either of them could succeed, they were soaring backward with a force that would have them landing at least a quarter of a mile away.

  Cristoff rounded on Arturo, his hands clutching his head, his face a mask of disbelief. He’d yet to counterattack, yet he was holding up to Arturo’s deadly blast with disastrous ease, as if the master had become as indestructible as his guards.

  His expression shifted to one of confusion as his eyes once more filled with the soul of the male Arturo had once worshiped. “You betray me.”

  “You, never. I do not betray the master to whom I long ago pledged fealty, the master I loved. I betray only the monster who now wears his face.”

  Fury flooded Cristoff’s countenance. And, a moment later, a blast hit Arturo’s mind shields, shattering them.

  Chapter 49


  Quinn leaped off her horse and ran, despite the pain burning through her gut. She’d seen Cristoff exit the Focus and knew the time had come for Arturo to attack his father…if he could bring himself to do it. And Cristoff would almost certainly counterattack with enough force to kill the man she loved.

  All around her, the fighting continued, her allies in terrible pain, Cristoff’s mercenaries taking swift and deadly advantage.

  “I need protection!” she yelled. Almost instantly, eight vampires surrounded her. And then half a dozen wolves. She was stealing them from other battles, and she was sorry for it, but she had to get closer to Arturo or everything was lost.

  The helicopter she’d seen appear out of nowhere had begun a death spiral, the terrified pilot probably in too much pain to fly it any longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it careen downward. At the exact moment it hit the ground, a row of buildings appeared suddenly on top of it, and the resulting explosion burst out the windows.

  Every minute, more people materialized out of nowhere, more cars and vehicles, more buildings. It was a world in chaos, a world of madness.

  A Quinn ran, her protectors, all of them debilitated by pain, battled back Cristoff’s vamps, some succeeding, some dying. As vampires and wolves fell, others slid in to take their place, clearing a path for her. She struggled to concentrate on Arturo, to connect with him, but he was still too far away. With horror, she saw Sakamoto die. Then suddenly Cristoff roared and turned on Arturo. And then she felt it, the blast to Arturo’s mind that would kill him.

  Her heart pounded, her breath tearing in and out of her lungs. Her own mind went white as she desperately fought to connect with him, to push power through him. Dimly, she began to feel him, but she was still too far away, so she continued to run, pushing through battle in the wake of her persona guard.