Retribution asc-5

by Jeanne C. Stein

  For the first time I see Williams as vulnerable. I am as outraged as he is by what Burke did. But it was Belinda Burke, not Sophie. As a vampire, I could rip his human throat out in ten seconds if he refused to meet beast with beast. But would I?

  Yes, to save Sophie. I center myself.

  Williams watches me.

  “I can’t you let hurt Sophie. You know that. You’re grieving for Ortiz. I understand. I want revenge, too. But against Burke. Sophie fulfilled her part of the bargain. She broke Burke’s curse. It’s what I asked of her.”

  “It’s not what I asked of her.” Williams’ voice thunders in the closed space. “I never agreed to let her go.”

  A low moan escapes Sophie’s lips. The sound spurs Williams into action. He whirls around with a snarl, the bloody knife poised.

  It’s all it takes to loose the vampire. I don’t try to hold it back; there isn’t time. When I lunge at Williams, it’s with full force. He flies back, twenty feet, to land in a pile of scrap.

  I brace myself, ready to intercept the charge, every nerve in my body poised for the fight. This battle has been a long time coming.

  Williams doesn’t leap up. Doesn’t yell or threaten. Doesn’t move.

  I take a step closer, fangs extended, growling a warning.

  There’s no response.

  Is this a trick?

  I morph back from vampire to human so I can better understand.

  What I see is a human, eyes open, a slender spear of rebar piercing the center of his chest. As I watch, those eyes focus on me, then cloud over. His body writhes against the spike impaling him.

  Williams never unleashed his beast.

  He’s not dead, Deveraux screams. Get us out of here.

  I know he’s right. If Williams were dead, if the spear had been wooden instead of iron, we’d be looking at a pile of ash.

  Human instinct makes me want to help him. Animal instinct says I need to get Sophie to safety before he can do any more harm.

  Is she drugged? I ask Deveraux, loosening the ropes at Sophie’s wrists and ankles. When I pull them free, she sags against me.

  He gave her something in a cup of coffee. I never saw it coming.

  But you’re not affected?

  Came to before she did. I guess it’s a good thing. He was going to burn her. I read it in his head.

  I read it, too. It’s what makes me want to get her out of here before he pulls himself free. He’s no immediate threat. Even as a vampire, he’ll take time to heal. When the beast emerges, though, it won’t be pretty. I want to be gone.

  I look back at the tunnel, wonder how I’ll get her out. Then I look up. The staircase is gone, but the landing one floor above is intact.

  This may be how Williams got Sophie here.

  I scoop Sophie into my arms. She seems small and slight and utterly defenseless. Her vulnerability chases any inclination to help Williams right out of my head.

  But before I carry her to safety, I do one more thing. I take the crystal bowl and fit it between her crossed arms.

  Williams was right about one thing. Burke needs to die.

  I flex my legs slightly, gather strength, leap upward.

  I land squarely on both feet. The hall is dark and empty and smells of melted rubber and burned tile. The employee lounge? The twisted shells of their lockers and the remains of a refrigerator confirm. When I was here the first time, this wouldn’t have led me to the front door.

  Now, with two floors compressed, I see light at the end of the hallway.

  I carry Sophie toward it.

  CHAPTER 55

  AS SOON AS WE GET TO THE COTTAGE, I CARRY SOPHIE upstairs to the guest room and lower her onto the bed. She’s still out, so I take a minute to shed my ruined clothes and pull on a T-shirt. The cuts on my back are already healed.

  Sophie still hasn’t come to. I figure she’s in shock. She would be—from loss of blood if not from the terror of Williams’ torture. Her pupils, when I check, are fixed and dilated. I gently loosen the torn fabric of her clothing so I can examine the wound.

  She moans slightly as dried blood binds with the fabric. Despite my care, the cut reopens. It runs in a straight line from the neck of her shirt to her navel. Fresh blood oozes over my fingers.

  I take a wet cloth and sponge the wound. It’s about half an inch deep, eighteen inches long. Williams made the cut in one motion. Any deeper and he would have disembow eled her.

  I swallow hard, appalled.

  She needs stitches, I tell Deveraux. I’d better take her to a hospital.

  Aren’t you forgetting? You can heal her.

  She’s lost a lot of blood. And she’s a witch. I don’t know if it will work.

  She’s human. You healed David.

  How did he know that? I sit back a minute, looking down at the girl but seeing something entirely different. A vampire. As real in his way as the girl. If she dies, you do, too.

  A heartbeat goes by before he answers. Does that make a difference in your decision to help her?

  No. I get to work.

  I pull off Sophie’s boots, strip her of her bloody clothes and let everything fall to the floor. I cover her lower body with a blanket. Ready myself.

  I need the vampire. It isn’t hard to summon her. Blood from the reopened wound does it. I don’t need fangs to open a vein, just position myself over her body and let instinct take over.

  I suck at the wound, beginning near her neck, gently at first, letting the smell and taste of Sophie’s blood send those first shivers of delight through me. But this isn’t arterial blood, I don’t sense the pulse beat beneath my tongue. At first, it doesn’t feel as if it will be enough. The beast awakens, demanding more.

  I force it back, make it content to lap at what blood it can get, concentrate on healing rather than feeding.

  Gradually, it happens. Sophie’s skin responds, mending itself over the cut too shallow to have injured organ or muscle. I trail my mouth down the length of her body and up again, feeling the skin knit itself together. Feeling Deveraux beneath her skin. Feeling his pain lessen with the healing. Her blood is sweet. Too soon for the vampire, it’s done.

  ONE HOUR LATER, SOPHIE IS WIDE-AWAKE, SITTING up in bed, dressed in a pair of my sweats. She’s showered and pulled her freshly washed hair back into a ponytail. She looks about fifteen. I have to keep reminding myself that she’s not the helpless young girl she appears to be.

  Every few minutes, her hands go to her midsection and she winces, as if reliving Williams’ attack.

  “You’re all right,” I reassure her. “You are completely healed and Williams can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “He was so angry.”

  She says it as if she still can’t believe what he did to her. She’s calm, maybe too calm. Is she in shock?

  I wish I could think of something to rationalize or explain Williams’ action. Something to rationalize or explain what I’m about to do.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, take one of her hands, rub it between my own. A simple human act of comfort usually denied me. The infusion of her blood heated my skin so my touch isn’t corpse cold.

  “Sophie, Williams is sick with grief. It doesn’t excuse the way he hurt you, but I understand why he did it.”

  Something in my tone brings Deveraux to the surface.

  Uh-oh, he says, what are you going to do?

  Sophie is looking at me, her eyes wide. “You’re going after my sister, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. Belinda is nothing like you. She set out to murder innocent women. She used some kind of magic to create a species of vampire whose sole purpose was to provide blood for her cream. She swore to kill my friends because I interfered with her plans. You were brave to come here and help us stop her. But it isn’t enough. I have to finish it.”

  I wait for her reaction, expecting her to argue in Belinda’s defense. Instead, she pulls her hand free of mine and intertwines her fingers, squeezing until her knuckles t
urn white.

  “How will you find her?”

  She doesn’t know about the blood Williams collected. I don’t want to tell her about it. “Do you have any ideas?”

  It’s unfair—asking Sophie to help me locate her sister so I can kill her. I backtrack. “I think there’s a way. The same witches who helped me locate her before think they can locate her now.”

  Her expression reflects grave concern. “It would be dangerous, Anna. Belinda’s magic may have been rendered ineffective here, but she’s still powerful. You would be risking your life and for what? She won ’t be capable of hurting anyone again for a long time. Isn’t that good enough?”

  I wish I could say it was. But I think of Williams and how the depth of his grief drove him to attack Sophie. He and I have our differences, but he’s not a monster.

  Sophie watches my face, reads what she sees reflected there. “You need to think this through carefully, Anna. I don’t know what you’ll be facing. Belinda may be in her physical body—without glamour. An old woman. Could you kill her in cold blood? Are you capable of killing a helpless old woman?”

  Deveraux pipes up. You couldn’t even kill Williams when you had the chance. And you should have. He’s still on the loose, too.

  Sophie takes my hand again. “Deveraux is right. Williams was going to kill me. In a way, he’s as dangerous as my sister. He is not your friend, Anna. You should be aware of that. He harbors great resentment toward you. Deveraux saw it. It ’s why he didn’t make his presence known to him. He doesn’t trust him. You shouldn’t, either.”

  She is not telling me anything I haven’t told myself. But it’s not Williams that concerns me right now. It’s Burke.

  “Williams and I have had our differences. I know there will come a time when he and I will be forced to confront them. But at this moment, Williams is no threat. He was hurt today. Worse than you. He’ll need time to heal.”

  She stirs and I anticipate her next words. I hold up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. That Burke is hurt, too, and no threat. It’s different with Williams. I know his strengths and weaknesses. I know how to fight him. Burke showed me she could take away all my power. That she could hurt my friends and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. I can’t let that go, Sophie. Not even for you.

  I’m sorry.”

  I pull back my hand, stand up. “I want you to stay here tonight. If you are serious about caring for the girls from the warehouse, I’ll take you to them and fly you all back to Denver tomorrow morning.”

  Sophie studies my face, gauging, I suppose, if there is a chance she can talk me out of going after her sister. I wait for Deveraux to pop up with an argument of his own, too, but none is forthcoming.

  After a long moment, Sophie sighs. “I think that will be best. I’ll feel safer once I’m home. I have protection spells to put in place. And Deveraux will sense Williams if he tries to come after me.”

  We’ll be fine once we’re back at the mansion, Deveraux adds. I still have contacts in the vampire community. Sophie will be well protected.

  It’s decided. I leave Sophie then, go back downstairs, make sure the doors and windows are secure. I believe what I told Sophie, that Williams has been hurt too badly to be a threat. But why take a chance?

  Especially since I’ll be slipping away as soon as I know she is asleep.

  CHAPTER 56

  WHEN I PEEK IN ON SOPHIE A HALF HOUR LATER, she’s fast asleep. I wonder if Deveraux is, too, or if he stands as a kind of subliminal watchdog, ready to rouse her if he senses danger. I don’t probe, though. I don’t want him to know I’m leaving. Besides, the only person I can think of who wishes Sophie harm, Williams, could not have recovered this quickly from such a grievous wound. She’ll be safe until I return.

  And if I don’t return?

  I close the door softly leaving Sophie and that question behind.

  Then I run downstairs and out to the garage. I’d already called ahead and arranged for the witches to meet me at park headquarters.

  They were expecting the call to come from Williams. I simply said there’d been a change in plans.

  It’s early evening, but a rising full moon and a cloudless sky bathe Balboa Park in a translucent glow. Shadows dance off the buildings and trees as if backlit. The only sounds come from the zoo nearby—the screams and howls of animals responding to some primeval urge to beg the moon for liberation. The animal in me responds, too. It stirs and growls and aches for the hunt.

  The witches are waiting when I come off the elevator. It’s quiet in the big anteroom that is the nerve center of the compound. Only a half dozen psychics are on duty. They pay us no heed when we disappear down the hall.

  Once the door is closed behind us, Susan Powers speaks first, taking the bowl I hold out to her. “You are sure you want to do this?”

  She looks at the bowl with its ruby liquid —Sophie’s blood—and places it on a table. “It is very dangerous. Once we get you to your destination, you have only ten minutes before we lose our ability to pull you back. After that, you will be on your own. Our magic will no longer be able to help you.”

  “Or protect you,” Min Liu adds. “You will be a human with no powers on a ghostly plane. It’s a foolish risk, Anna. We have no way of knowing what form Belinda has taken. Williams said she was hurt badly, but she survived what would have killed a lesser witch. We beg you to think this through carefully. There must be another way.”

  I draw a breath. “There is no other way. I can’t afford to wait for her to get strong enough to come back. I’ve beaten her twice. Next time, she may strike without warning at people I love, at me. This is my only chance to strike first.”

  Ariela approaches, takes my hand. “Then if you’re sure, we will prepare you for the journey.”

  I nod and let her lead me to the center of the room. She takes a brush and paints a circle around me with Sophie ’s blood. At the same time, Min dips her fingers into the bowl and dabs my face—forehead, cheeks, lips.

  The blood neither awakens the beast nor excites it.

  “Are you wearing the amulet?” Min asks.

  I pull the charm from under my T-shirt and let it fall between my breasts.

  She touches the amulet with the blood. “This will be your guide. It will lead you to Burke and after, back to us.”

  “What should I expect?” I ask. “What will this ‘ghostly plane’ be like?”

  Susan has been at the table, first arranging candles, then mixing some kind of potion in a golden goblet. She looks up. “We don’t know.

  None of us are powerful enough to attempt the journey.”

  She says it while holding my gaze with her own and with a kind of awe that makes my eagerness for what may come even more intense.

  I want to do this.

  Min is still holding the bowl. “Give me your weapon. I’ll anoint it, also.”

  “Weapon?” I repeat. “I have no weapon with me. I am vampire. I thought that would be enough.”

  Min’s eyes widen. “I told you,” she says. “You will be human on the ghostly plane. You will not be vampire. You can only pass through the portal as a human.”

  Susan frowns. “Williams didn’t explain that to you?”

  I press my fingertips against my eyes for a moment, seeing Williams on his back with that spear of rebar in his chest. “No. It doesn’t matter. Weapon or no weapon, I’ve got to do this now.”

  The three exchange concerned glances. Ariela crosses to the table and picks up a dagger Susan had used to strip herbs from a slender twig. She touches the blade with the blood and brings it to me.

  The dagger is about ten inches long, the blade tapering from a leather-bound handle to a fine point. Its weight lies heavy in my hand. I hold it up, watch light dance along the blade, nod to the witches. Ariela hands me the sheath. I secure it around my waist with a cord, slip the knife inside. Close my jacket around it.

  “I’m ready.”

  The three move to t
he outside of the circle. Susan picks up the goblet, begins to chant. Smoke rises from the goblet, first white, then black. Min and Ariela join hands, adding their voices to the song, a simple phrase in a language unknown to me, a single rhythmic note repeated over and over.

  I watch and listen, fascinated, waiting. I don’t know what to expect—what will the journey be like? Will I fly? Will I sense movement?

  A thrill runs through my body, prickly as electric current.

  I am not afraid. I’m excited. Every cell in my body thrums with anticipation.

  The smoke grows darker and denser. How could so much smoke come from that tiny goblet? The witches are a dim shadow lost in the haze. Their voices fade, receding as if it is they who are moving through time and space.

  A tiny sensation. The floor shifting beneath my feet. A rumble of distant thunder. The room gone black as night. I close my eyes. For an instant.

  When I open them, the world has changed.

  CHAPTER 57

  I’M IN A ROOM. DAZZLING WHITE. NO WINDOWS or doors. Now what?

  I touch the amulet.

  It warms and begins to glow. As it does, shapes form out of nothingness. A table. A round globe in the center.

  I approach it. I know what I’m supposed to do. Something deep in my subconscious guides me. I place both hands on the globe.

  Beneath my fingertips, it stirs as if alive. Beneath my fingertips . . . My physical senses are sharper. I watch, fascinated, excited, as clouds form in the sphere, then clear.

  I see a room. A bed. An old woman lying still beneath a quilt of grass. She opens her eyes and looks up at me. Awareness blooms behind cataractous eyes. No fear. A smile. She beckons with a crooked finger.

  A whirl of movement.

  I’m at the bedside.

  Belinda Burke is sitting up. She is bent with age and stoop-shouldered. Her face is lined. She is squinting at me through lenses shrouded in the opaque film of age. But she recognizes me. Her bitter malevolence permeates the air like moisture after a summer storm.

  “You came, Anna. Not Williams. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Did you kill him?”