Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6)

by J. C. Daniels

  He flicked his eyes to the far side of the room, mouth twisting in a sneer. “Jude Whittier.”

  The sound of his name sent spike of ice dancing down my spine.

  “You stand before me, a bag of bones, and yet you have such arrogance in your eyes.” Findlay shook his head. “You should have a care. I have few options, but I do have options and some of them are less repugnant to me.” He paused, a brow going up. “Make no mistake…I find you and your actions repugnant.”

  A sharp noise escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn’t quite a laugh. But it wasn’t a sob either. I got it under control before I could do it again.

  Eyes drifted my way, lingered.

  I couldn’t avoid it anymore.

  Still clutching Damon’s hand, I turned my gaze toward Jude.

  Yeah, a bag of bones summed it up.

  He’d been locked away in a silver-lined box for months, fed only the minimum needed to stay alive.

  In those months, his body had melted away, turning him into a long, reedy form of skin stretched over a skeletal frame.

  Finally, he looked like the monster I knew him to be.

  His face was gaunt, nearly translucent. The once-beautiful perfection of his pale golden hair was now sallow and straw-like and the fine clothes he wore hung from him. There was blood splatter on the collar, something I’d never seen.

  All echoes of his former beauty were gone.

  The only thing recognizable were his eyes, those lovely deep blue pools.

  And now, as so often before, those blue eyes were locked on me.

  As he caught my gaze, his lips peeled back to reveal a smile gone macabre in his desiccated state. “Hello, my darling Kit. Do you still dream about me?”

  I don’t even remember standing up, much less drawing the gun.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jude threw back his head and laughed.

  I didn’t lower the weapon.

  Damon braced, the hand on my neck moving to my shoulder. The shifters with us moved to form a loose semi-circle.

  Justin had shifted to a crouch and silver had slid from his sleeves.

  I had no idea who he planned to tangle up in that deadly net.

  All around me, the people who would protect me were ready—but were they planning to stop me from shooting…or there to protect me after I pulled the trigger?

  I could see Damon letting me fire, then having his people form a wall of bodies around me as they swept me out of there.

  He’d laugh if Jude died, no matter the cost on the city.

  The city.

  East Orlando.

  Everything going to hell.

  “I hardly even think about you,” I said. That cold, remote voice—was that me? I’d never heard myself sound so…distant.

  Jude stopped laughing. His eyes locked on the gun and then he slanted a cruel smile at me. “You certainly look like you’ve…forgotten me, darling Kit.”

  “You didn’t ask if I’d forgotten. You asked me if I dreamed about you. And…no. It would be difficult as you rarely enter my thoughts.” Slowly, I lowered the gun and holstered it. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a male. Your way of getting a woman is to kidnap and imprison, rape and beat. And that alone wasn’t enough—you had guards on my cell. Was it to make sure I didn’t escape? Or to make sure I didn’t come after you and cut off your cock and feed it to you?”

  A low, mean chuckle escaped Damon.

  “Damn, Jude.” Justin whistled under his breath, still playing with his silver. “You might be safer in that box.”

  But Jude only had eyes for me and that gaze held pure fire.

  “Yet when you escaped, did you run for a blade? Or did you try to end your pathetic life, darling Kit?”

  “It should tell you something that death was preferable to being near you.” Something cold wrapped around me and I could feel it freezing everything in me. I wanted to shatter, to break, to escape—

  His eyes narrowed as if he followed my every thought.

  “It’s a pity you weren’t able to end it, darling,” he murmured. “Now you’ll never be free of me.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” I sat down, determined to break this odd, sick connection, but before I could look back at Findlay, Jude spoke again.

  “Tell me, Kit. Does your beloved Alpha make you scream?” His smile returned and he looked toward Damon then. “Like I did?”

  The wet snap of my bones breaking—his laugh.

  Damon took my hand and lifted it to his lips. The feel of his mouth moving against my skin snapped the spell.

  “I usually make her purr, you pathetic fuck,” Damon said. And somehow, he was smiling. I didn’t look at him but I could hear it in his voice. “But then again, when I put my hands on a woman, my plan is make her happy. It’s clear you need to torture to get off, but I don’t have that issue.”

  “It’s too bad he’s not still human,” Justin said, voice sly. “There are doctors he could see to treat that…little problem.”

  “Enough.” An outraged voice slashed through the air as Jude’s cold gaze locked on me.

  Claude strode forward, separating himself from the vampires.

  Some, like Maxine, looked amused.

  Others were clearly pissed.

  But most of them looked bored.

  Claude fell into the clearly pissed group and his eyes flashed red as he looked from me and those who flanked me to Findlay. “Will you allow this? You release him and have placed him as head of my house but these fools stand there mocking him.”

  “He mocks the mate of another faction leader.” Findlay stroked a finger down the line of his jaw, a thoughtful look on his face. “Would you have me chastise him as well? I thought he was a man grown, Claude.”

  Lip curling, Claude looked at us.

  “Perhaps Jude must follow protocol, but I am not the head of House Whittier.”

  “True enough.” Lazily, Justin rose. Silver slid from his arms and started to twine in front of him in a slow circle. “But you look enough like him that I could close my eyes and pretend.”

  “Put it away, Greaves,” Findlay said.

  Justin tsked under his breath. “Too bad.” He dropped back down, taking his seat this time. He nudged my shoulder with his. Under his breath, he said, “Don’t blink.”

  I was almost positive I hadn’t blinked in the past ten minutes.

  Face stiff, I looked from Jude back to Findlay. My face wasn’t the only thing gone rigid. I felt like everything me was stretched, pulled, ready to shatter.

  “The Assembly must do what’s necessary to control the chaos. I understand that.” I paused a beat. “Are we done here?”

  His response was cut short by Claude.

  I finally did blink, the vampire’s sheer stupidity cutting through the haze in my head. I glanced over at Justin to see him smirking now.

  “We are not done, chit,” Claude snarled. He looked from me to Justin,outraged. “If that peacock won’t offer an apology willingly, I’ll rip from his dying guts.”

  Damon’s face split in a wide grin—I could see it from the corner of my eye. That was…unexpected. Not what I would have thought his response would be, even if the comment was rather mild.

  Justin’s words Don’t blink echoed through my mind again though as I realized Damon wasn’t the only one grinning. Claude hadn’t noticed.

  But others were quite aware of…something.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see several of the vampires from House Whittier rising. One even took a step forward but was stopped by another.

  Claude stopped, too.

  But not by his own will.

  Mesmerized, I stared at him as he looked down at his feet. It might have been comical, but as he tried to take a step, then simply rip one foot from where it was frozen to the floor, I glanced at his face.

  He’d opened his mouth to speak.

  Now he was screaming—silently.

  Findlay stared at the back of his head for a l
ong, lingering moment. It was obvious why—he wanted there to be no mistake who was now controlling Claude. Then he shifted his attention to Jude.

  “This…boy is of your family,” Findlay said.

  “Yes.” Jude finally looked away from me. “I’ll deal with his lack of manners.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  The scent of blood—the strange, flat scent of vampire blood—filled the air and I looked back to Claude. Blood oozed from him like sweat and his skin…it collapsed. Like something was sucking everything out of him.

  Findlay continued to eye Jude. “You’re being released to bring House Whittier under control. That’s the only reason. If you fail…you will not go back into that box. There won’t be a need for it.” He glanced at Claude.

  Dimly, I heard his words, but I was still looking at the withering vampire in front of me. He now looked even worse than Jude, skin like crepe, cracking in some places. And he was still alive, still aware.

  His eyes rolled around in their sockets—a silent plea for help.

  Justin looked at him with that cold, mean smile I’d seen from him on occasion.

  Damon yawned.

  I heard a ripping sound and had to swallow as I realized it was skin—skin drawn too tight around the bones inside that dying bag of flesh.

  “Regent, I believe he has learned his lesson,” Jude said, voice impassive.

  “This isn’t a lesson for him.” Findlay flicked his wrist.

  Claude’s neck snapped and his body hit the ground.

  Ellen looked over at Findlay.

  He nodded and she rose, moving to the body. She bent over and grabbed the head.

  When she did, there was a faint movement from the legs.

  Oh, shit. He was still alive.

  Ellen grabbed his head and jerked.

  The head separated and she turned toward Jude. With no warning, she lobbed the head.

  He caught it, holding it like they were about ready to go hit the court.

  An insane giggle welled inside my chest but I fought it, and won. Barely.

  “You have a task, Whittier,” Ellen said calmly. “Bring order to your house, or we will. You have already demonstrated a sad lack in this matter. Our hope is that Claude was the exception, not the rule.”

  She glanced at Findlay.

  “Our authority is not questioned,” Findlay said.

  It would have sounded rather final, but then he glanced over at Malcolm. “Was that enough of a show for you?”

  Malcolm was still staring at the mess on the floor, a sack of bones and tattered skin, lying in sticky blood. All that remained of Claude.

  “Quite.”

  Findlay’s gaze met mine. “Go now, Ms. Colbana, Alpha Lee. The vampires will remain for a time. There are matters to be discussed.”

  I rose and turned toward the door, locking my legs so they wouldn’t shake.

  That was when I realized one vital thing about the design of the room—I’d taken note earlier, but now it was driven home with serious impact.

  There was only one fucking door.

  And Jude still stood there.

  “Kid, bring the car around.” As Doyle moved in front of us, followed by several other shifters, it cut us off from view of Jude and Damon put his hand on my back. “Walk, baby girl,” he said, voice all but soundless, but there was steel in his words.

  He’d probably done it to piss me off, but right then, I was grateful. I was frozen.

  I’d have to walk by Jude.

  I started forward.

  Damon joined me, placing himself at my left. Chang moved to join us, but before he could, Justin fell into step. He didn’t crowd me and kept a careful distance from my sword hand. “I haven’t read the Charter in a while,” he said cheerfully. “Lee, what would happen if I out and out launched a full-attack against you and decided to separate your head from your body?”

  “You’d lose.” Damon shrugged, unperturbed. “But…assuming you got lucky beyond your wildest dreams and my people didn’t kill you immediately, you’d go to trial. You’re an independent, so it’s not like it would get the House of Witches in trouble.”

  We were at the door then and it was too narrow for all three of us to pass through as Jude hadn’t moved.

  He stood there, so close he'd brush against Justin if he wasn’t careful.

  Justin stopped walking and in a tone that conveyed nothing but casual interest, he said, “Huh. That’s pretty damn interesting, if you ask me.”

  Ice coated the air.

  Unable to stop it, I looked back.

  Justin stood just a couple of feet away from Jude. “Don’t you find that interesting, Jude? Oh…sorry. You’re just Whittier now, aren’t you? You lead a vampire house now. You’re kind of like Damon in that matter.”

  He began to walk again, right past us, right on down the hall, and right out the door.

  “Come on, kitten,” Damon said, nudging me back into movement. “Your friend is crazy. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, feeling disconnected from everything. “He’s crazy.”

  The whole damn world was crazy.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  We got to the Lair in record time.

  Blindly, I climbed out of the car and went straight inside, ignoring Doyle, Chang, Rana…everybody…as I sought out the solace and privacy of our rooms.

  I shut the door, hands trembling. Then, not knowing what to do, I stood in the middle of the room and shook.

  The door closed quietly behind me and I realized I hadn’t even thought to do that.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “It’s a miracle I’m still upright.” Looking down at my hands, I saw the fine tremor in my fingers had gone from fine to substantial. With a curse, I turned on my heel and walked into the bathroom, turning the water on and splashing my face. In the process, I got my shirt wet and my hair. Droplets trickled inside the sleeves of the shirt, leaving damp trails.

  Ice flowed in the wake of the water and my teeth started to chatter.

  Cold.

  I hated being cold.

  With a savage wrench, I turned off the water and reached up, fumbling with the buttons.

  My hands were numb, like they’d been on the mountain. Like they’d been when I pulled myself onto the shore years ago just outside the village. The water had been so cold. Colder than the mountain where Jude had taken me, even.

  Cold. I hated the cold.

  Too many nightmares were chewing at me now, escaping my grandmother, trying to escape Jude.

  “Think of something else,” I said, still trying to work the buttons free. In desperation, I wrenched at the material. It tore and buttons popped, flying across the room. But the only thing that came to mind was cold. The water. The mountain. “The island. What was the name of the island?”

  “Kit?”

  I looked at Damon, wild-eyed. Of course, he was there. He was always there.

  “The name. I can’t…”

  He shook his head, looking baffled. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “What do…” Horror flooded me when I realized the words coming out of my mouth weren’t English. Covering my face with my hands, I let out a scream. Drawing in a slow breath, I let it out, then lowered my hands and looked at Damon. “Sorry.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard you speaking another language before.” He smiled. It was forced but I appreciated it. “Can you say something dirty to me?”

  “Don’t be a dork.” I laughed weakly and finished stripping the shirt off. “I guess I totally shredded this. Sam’s done so well shopping for clothes for me and I’ve already destroyed this.”

  “It’s a damn shirt.” He pulled me against him as I shivered. “What’s going on in this head of yours, Kit? Talk to me.”

  “I can’t describe it all.” Nuzzling him, I held tight. Then I pulled back. The second I did, I wished I hadn’t because as I turned to look around, the walls of the bathroom seem
ed to morph and turned into stones and bars.

  Stop. I would have screamed it if I thought it would do any good. But all it would do was freak Damon out and he was so on edge, I was surprised his hair wasn’t standing on end.

  “I have to get out of here.” I practically ran out of the bathroom, heading straight for the dresser. I yanked open a drawer and grabbed the first shirt that came to hand.

  “Okay.” Damon had stopped a careful distance away. “Where are we going?”

  I met his eyes in the mirror. Pushing my wet hair back, I said, “We?”

  Mouth tight, he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before meeting my gaze again. “Kit, I’m going to be as calm about this as I can, but do you really think I can handle the idea of you being out there on the streets right now by yourself?” He took one step toward me. “He just got out. And he wants you just as much as he ever did—more.”

  “I know.” It hurt to even talk right then. “Some part of me wants to think I should tell you off, tell you I’m a big girl who can handle herself just fine.” I looked around the room and even though this room was easily twenty times larger than the extravagant bathroom, it felt like the walls were closing in. Closing in, and stone had replaced the exposed brick, while the windows turned to bars.

  “But as much as I’d like to hide away until I figure out some solution to…him…” I shook my head. “I can’t. The walls are closing in and I can’t breathe and if I have to stay here, I’m going to freak out. And I know him. He’ll come looking for me sooner or later, just to try and scare me shitless. Which won’t take much—I’m just an inch shy of that already.”

  I stopped abruptly and nodded. “So…yeah. You’re going.”

  ⸸

  We drove.

  Straight into the night and well into the morning.

  Off and on, I dozed but Damon just drove in silence. A few times he stopped to charge the batteries or grab some food, which he pushed on me with gentle or not so gentle nagging. After the second round, I finally took what he pushed at me, knowing it would be easier.