Famine's Feast (The Templar Book 4)

by Debra Dunbar

“Hey, I beat the snot out of him too. He still has a black eye.” And he still looked hot even with the black eye. “Yes. Wolfram is evidently a doctor and a Hospitaller, so he’s got a special edge when it comes to medical diagnosis and healing. Kind of like I’ve got an edge when it comes to killing things.”

  He continued to stare at me intently for a few moments before responding. “So this Wolfram, a Hospitaller, would consent to healing vampires.”

  I nodded. “I made a deal with him. I kill the one who’s at the end of the magical link, and he heals the vampires who’ve been infected.”

  “And the one who’s at the end of the magical link is…”

  “A vampire.”

  “Which vampire?”

  I winced. “I’m assuming one of those five. Unless I can call and contain the plague demon, or manage to locate the mage that summoned him, I’m at a severe disadvantage trying to find out which one.”

  Dario sighed. “I can’t help with the plague demon, but I’ll see if I can help with the vampire responsible for this. Do you think the vampire you need to kill is the one that hired the mage? If so, then I’m assuming it’s Simon we need to kill. I won’t lose any sleep over that one.”

  “Simon, or possibly a traitor who assisted in spreading the infection.”

  “I’ve got no problem killing a traitor either.”

  “Looks like Lawrence is the one most likely to be the traitor?”

  Dario nodded “He’s missing. He’s not shown symptoms of the infection that I’m aware of, and he had opportunity. He’s a good guy, but if killing him saves the others, then I’ll do what I have to do.”

  That’s where Dario and I differed. He did whatever he had to. He did the dirty jobs, the difficult jobs, the ones that would have stained his soul. I wavered when faced with those decisions. But Dario had hundreds of years of painful decisions in his past where I’d lived a privileged and somewhat sheltered life. Either way, it was past time for me to step up.

  “I’ll also do what I have to do,” I told him.

  Chapter 28

  Other vampires arrived. Dario assigned them all posts. It was clear they were prepping for an attack. I put a reassuring hand on Trusty, knowing I could do my part to protect them, to protect Leonora’s home that was their symbolic stronghold.

  “I need you to go back to your house now.”

  That was not what I expected. “You’re joking. I’m a Templar. I have a consecrated weapon. My blessings can blister a vampire. You’ve seen what I can do.”

  “I know.” Dario stepped close, reaching out a hand to smooth my hair and cup my jaw. “This is a Balaj matter. You haven’t slept more than a few hours a night for the last four days. You’ve got a demon to banish. You need to get rid of that demon mark. Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll text you before dawn to let you know everything is okay.”

  Or he wouldn’t text me and I’d be in agony wondering what happened to him. “Reynard is taking care of the details on the plague demon banishment. I’ve got everything in place for the Halloween ritual. I can help you. I don’t want to be sent home like some helpless blood-slave.”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  That stung, but before I could reply he continued.

  “If you’re here I’ll spend the whole night wondering if you’re okay, trying to defend you. Go home. Text me when you get there.”

  I jerked away from his hand. This was such crap. Me, the Templar, the defender of Baltimore, was being sent home to bed by a vampire who wanted me safe so I wouldn’t be a distraction. I’d thought he was different, that he respected me. Clearly I was wrong.

  “I’ll text you when I’m home.” My voice couldn’t have been more frosty. Before he could reply, I’d spun around and headed to the front door.

  “Back. Go out the garden and around the block. That way Simon’s crew won’t see you. I’ll send Madeline with you to make sure you get to your car safely.”

  Like hell he would. I pulled my sword from the scabbard. “I’ll go around the back if that’s what you want, but I don’t need an escort. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. What’s wrong with you? We have sex and suddenly you think I’m some helpless damsel?”

  I spun about, stomping through the kitchen and out the back door, not hearing a word that Dario said in reply. Eff him. Why had this happened? Why did sex have to ruin everything we’d had?

  The garden was different than last night, without either the dead bodies or the sexual and blood-drinking activity. It was almost serene—the crisp fall air, the scent of leaves and pine, the golden glow of the lights on the brick pathway and little private nooks. The gate was unlocked, the clank of it closing behind me deafening in the silence of the alley.

  Where was everyone? It wasn’t that late. There should be humans still getting home from long commutes. There should be at least one of Dario’s family out here guarding the rear entrance to Leonora’s house. Admittedly vampires were pretty stealthy, but this was eerily quiet.

  I would have totally missed it had I not been hugging the shadows, edging from garage to garage as I made my way to the end of the block. My foot hit something and I almost went facedown onto a body.

  The vampire was dead, his head a good five feet from his body, his chest a bloody caved-in hole. It was overkill. And the knife the killer had left protruding from the dead vampire’s forehead delivered a message. I froze, listening to the sound of cars in the street at the end of the alley, to the hum of the overhead lights. Rain misted down, tapping on the aluminum of gutters and downspouts. I didn’t hear anything else, but then again I probably wouldn’t hear a vampire approach. So instead I concentrated on my other senses. The scratchy feel of vampire was definitely crawling across the back of my awareness, but it seemed far off. Perhaps it was from the ones in the house, or the vampires Dario had positioned around the perimeter.

  I picked my way back down the alley and through the garden leaving the corpse behind. The prickly feel was stronger here, but I’d assume it would be as I got near the house.

  I was on high alert, but I still jumped to see a figure suddenly appear in front of the back door. He was shadowed by the light from the house, so all I could make out was a tall masculine shape. I tensed, sword at the ready. And then I realized that in the distinctive vampire sensation, I recognized this one.

  Dario. “Don’t trust me to walk to my car alone?” I snapped.

  He emerged from the shadows. “I don’t trust Simon. You refused Madeline, but I need to make sure you’re okay.”

  Seriously. I have sex with the guy once and suddenly he becomes this crazy overprotective alpha dude. “Did I mention I have a sword? The only reason I came back was that I found a vampire dead in the alley.”

  Every muscle in Dario’s body tensed. “Get in the house.”

  This had to stop. Now. “I’m not leaving, and I’m not hiding in the house, so you better tell me what to do to help, otherwise I’m going to go independent contractor on you.”

  I swear I saw him smile. “I want you safe. I need you to be safe, but it’s clear that you’re not going to go along with that plan. I should have expected that. Go inside. Madeline will tell you what to do. I’ll be right in.”

  Now that was better. I nodded and took off, coming in through the back door as quietly as I could. None of the vampires seemed alarmed by my presence.

  “Humans. They’re like a freight train on two legs. Could you be any noisier?” Madeline complained.

  “There’s a dead vampire in the alley,” I announced.

  Balen and Madeline exchanged glances. “Is the boss still out there?” the male vampire asked.

  I nodded. Madeline made a palms-down motion, then pointed Balen to the kitchen. She went to the front door and opened it.

  There was a rushing noise from outside. I tensed, sword at the ready. Madeline acted as though she was just getting a breath of fresh air in the doorway, but from the set of her jaw I could tell she was expecting an attack
.

  A bang echoed down the street, as if someone had launched a garbage dumpster. Madeline relaxed and I saw movement, someone approaching the house.

  Someones. I didn’t relax, knowing that my reflexes weren’t as quick as the vampires’. My sword stayed poised to attack until Madeline moved aside and I saw Balen and Dario. They were dragging another vampire, a tall, lanky vampire with shaggy brown hair that hung across his face in blood-soaked strands.

  “We’ve got ourselves some entertainment.” Balen announced, grinning. His fangs were tinged red his mouth torn open on one side practically to his ear. It was a gruesome sight, especially since the vampire didn’t seem to be in any real discomfort from the horrific wound.

  “Leo, Jasmine, and Zoe okay?” Madeline asked.

  Dario nodded. “Two of Simon’s Balaj got away, so they’re standing guard until I give them the signal. They killed Rufus.”

  “I didn’t,” the other vampire gasped. “Just intel. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Bullshit,” Balen replied, throwing the vampire to the floor and kicking him.

  Dario pinned the vampire to the floor with his foot to keep him from squirming away. There was a knife blade jabbed through the vampire’s back.

  Dario motioned for Madeline to help, and between the pair of them they hauled the other vampire to his feet and tossed him in a chair. He gasped as the knife was driven farther into his back, although he made no move to take it out.

  “What’s your name?” I felt Dario’s words press against my lungs like a weight, driving the breath from them. I’d never seen him exert his full power like this, but ever since the feast last night, it was like he’d become someone else.

  “Dylan,” the other vampire sputtered. “Simon is my Master. I was turned by Juliette. I belong to the Philadelphia Balaj.”

  Name, rank, serial number. Huh.

  Dario nodded. “Call in the others. We got what we came for.”

  Fear flitted across Dylan’s face before he composed himself. I wondered what Dario meant. Had he organized this whole thing to capture one of Simon’s vampires?

  Madeline vanished, only to return with Leo, Zoe, and Jasmine. Where Balen looked like a lumberjack, Leo looked as if he should be sipping a cappuccino and riding a fixie. The vampire had short brown hair, a goatee, and was sporting dark eyeliner. Zoe was dark as a moonless night with a shaved head and huge hoop earrings. Jasmine looked like a kohl-eyed dancer with a gauzy scarf pinned over her thick, dark hair.

  We all stood in the little study, gathered around the prisoner.

  “Front, back, or through the tunnels?” Jasmine asked.

  Zoe scowled down at the captive. “We can’t leave the Mistress here, not when we expect them to attack again. I know she’s in voluntary quarantine, but we can’t just abandon her. We have to either take her with us, or stay here and defend her house.”

  “What, all six of us?” Balen asked. “You know Simon probably has half his Balaj poised at the border to attack. We can’t make a stand here. We need to retreat and regroup. Learn what we can from this pile of shit we’ve landed in, then plan accordingly.”

  “He’s right. And we can’t move Leonora,” Dario said, shooting Madeline a quick look. “She’s safer here than you think. They won’t find her, and even if they do, they’d need to break through her secure room.”

  Zoe sucked in a breath. “She’s our Mistress! We can’t leave her behind, injured, so our enemies can come and kill her. They’ll find her. Erica says the Mistress is hurt. What if they break into the room? We can’t abandon her.”

  Dario stepped forward and put a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “I promise you they won’t know she’s here. They’ll never suspect that she’s injured, or find her in the house. And even injured, Leonora can hold her own. Do you think she rose to power on good looks and her interesting fashion sense alone? She’s an army of one, trust me. If they do manage to find her, they’ll regret it.”

  Madeline nodded. “He’s right. I’ve been with her since Paris. Don’t let all the leather fool you. She’s unstoppable in a fight, and she’s pledged her life to our Balaj. They attack her and they’ll be sorry.”

  “Then I think we should take the tunnels. And we better get moving.” Balen shot an easy glance toward the front door.

  “We’ll move her as soon as we can,” Dario assured Zoe. “Balen, you and Leo grab our prisoner. Jasmine, you lead. Zoe, Madeline, Aria and I will bring up the rear.”

  Instead of the narrow stairs that led to Leonora’s hidey hole, we went down the main stairs to the cellar, past the cement room where I’d once been locked in by an injured vampire in bloodlust, then to a workbench with a pegboard full of tools. Dario grabbed the workbench and shoved. It slid aside, revealing a short, narrow opening.

  “We don’t have to crawl, do we?” I asked. Not that I minded crawling, but it was hard to wield a hand-and-a-half sword while on all fours.

  “No,” Madeline assured me. “The doorway is just small so that the bench hides it.”

  Balen and Leo came down the steps, leading the prisoner. I winced to see Dylan’s arms hanging like limp noodles by his sides. Vampires healed fast, but breaks like that would take all night to heal. Too bad they couldn’t break his legs, but I guess Balen didn’t want to have to carry him.

  “Shouldn’t we blindfold him or something?”

  Dario glanced back at Dylan. “He won’t tell anybody.”

  I shivered, knowing that he meant Dylan wouldn’t survive to tell anybody. I waited until the others went through, Dario at the very end of our line. Inside the tunnel it was barely big enough for one person to walk upright at a time. Dario slid the bench back into place, plunging us all into complete darkness. I felt a hand reach out and take mine.

  “I’ve got you,” Madeline whispered. “We’re going to move fast. Do you think you can run?”

  “Not as fast as you.” I thought about how I could literally not see my hand in front of my face. I didn’t know these tunnels but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a straight shot to wherever we were going.

  “Boss, can I carry her?”

  Why was she not asking me? I knew she was physically able to carry me. She was a vampire, she was physically able to carry a small tank. She was asking permission, and of course, she thought I belonged to Dario. I was his blood-slave-without-the-blood, his possession. It was like asking to borrow his car.

  “The tunnel is too narrow. She might hit her head on the wall.”

  Well, we can’t have that. No dents in Dario’s new car.

  “I’ll put her over my shoulder. If she wraps her arms around my waist, she won’t hit the walls.”

  What? What?

  “I’m not having someone carry me like a sack of potatoes,” I protested. So much for the car analogy.

  “It will take us all night at your speed. We need to move fast, and it’s the only practical way to carry you in this tunnel,” Dario replied all matter of fact.

  I could drive and meet them there, but that would mean getting out of the tunnel, and through Leonora’s house to grab my car from in front of the house. That increased my risks of running into Simon’s vampires—something I really didn’t want to do. Yes, I was a Templar. Yes, I had my sword strapped to my back. No, I didn’t want to face down half a dozen vampires solo if I could help it.

  “Okay. Fine.” I secured my sword in the scabbard so it wouldn’t fall out while I moved a hundred miles per hour while upside down. “Let’s do this.”

  With speed that took my breath away, Madeline had me over her shoulder and was running. I looped my arms around her, trying not to think of my face basically pressed against her butt.

  The vampires moved silently. The loudest noise in the tunnel was my breathing, which sounded like an oncoming train. My arms ached from holding on as Madeline whipped around corners, down inclines and up hills. Who had built these tunnels? Had the vampires ensured they bought houses somewhere along the line, or had they connected existin
g tunnels to their homes? Clearly there was a lot going on with them that I didn’t realize.

  By the time Madeline stopped I was dizzy from the rollercoaster ride of a journey. She held on to me for a few seconds, then slid me off her shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  I gripped her arm for a moment to let the vertigo fade. “Yep. Thanks.”

  We emerged into another basement, similar to Leonora’s in that it held several cages. These ones were filled with occupants. As soon as the captive vampires saw us they rushed the bars, reaching out their arms and begging. They were starving, and a few of them had a crazy look in their eyes which told me they wouldn’t be too particular about their food source.

  Dario closed the tunnel entrance and moved to the front of our line, climbing the stairs without even a glance at the captives in their cages. None of the vampires looked their way, except for Dylan, who kept glancing nervously over.

  Once out of the basement the similarity to Leonora’s house ended. This wasn’t a giant, sprawling Victorian, it was a quaint nineteenth century row house, with exposed beams, heavy plaster walls, and double-wide pocket doors. The Mistress favored heavy, ornate furniture with dark wood. This vampire seemed to prefer comfort over ostentatious display. Bright colors were everywhere, on the walls, in the artwork, on the pillows and throws that were tossed on overstuffed sofas and chairs. End tables, the desk, even the lighting were all built in spare, clean lines. It was modern, but without the cold impersonal feel of some designs. I liked it. It wasn’t what I would have picked out, but I liked it.

  While I was admiring the room Dario was checking windows and doors. Three Renfields came in and I recognized one. It was Aaron, who had delivered the lists earlier today. This must be Dario’s house.

  Before I could investigate further, Dario strode up to Dylan, grabbing him by the shoulder and slamming him down into a seat. The captive’s arms were already starting to heal, and he folded them awkwardly across his chest in a show of defiance.

  “Talk,” Dario commanded. “You’re Simon’s. What does he want?”