by Keri Arthur
“I don’t know how you did that,” he said, his voice hoarse with pain, “but thank you.”
There were scratches on his face and arms, and bites down his legs. The woman he was comforting bore similar wounds. But they were both far better off than the three motionless figures beyond them, one of whom was little more than raw, bloody meat.
I shuddered again and dragged my attention back to the kneeling couple. “I’m afraid the danger isn’t over yet—there’re more vampires in the park.”
As if to emphasize my words, the sounds of snarling, of flesh smacking flesh, broke the sharp silence. Concern shot through me; Jackson, more than anyone, knew the danger of engaging in hand-to-hand battle with the cloaks, so why the hell was he doing so? The urge to go help him surged, but I resisted. I had to ensure these people were safe first.
The man’s gaze jumped past me, his expression a mix of pain, fear, and determination. “Then we’d better run—”
“No,” I cut in. PIT would be less than impressed if I allowed freshly infected people to go wandering off. “They’ve got the park ringed. You both need to shelter in the doorway over there.”
“But if they hit us there, we’ll be trapped,” the man said, eyeing the huge archway dubiously.
“No, because I’ll block it off with a wall of fire they won’t get through.”
The fear in his expression grew stronger, and this time it was aimed at me. “What are you?”
“Fire witch,” I said shortly. “Now go. And no matter what happens, don’t move from that doorway until I come to get you.”
He hesitated, his gaze briefly sweeping me. Then he nodded. “We won’t.”
As the two of them rose and staggered over to the doorway, I quickly checked the other three. One was dead, but the other two were still alive. For how much longer was anyone’s guess, because there was an awful lot of blood on the ground surrounding them . . .
I dragged my gaze away. The couple had reached the arched doorway, so I called to the mother again and raised the promised barrier. Pain immediately lanced through my brain, and for several seconds, the world faded in and out of existence. It was a very clear warning I was being drained to the point of exhaustion.
But until we were safe, until the cloaks were dealt with, I had no other option but to continue.
I bolted back to help Jackson. As I rounded the corner, I saw him, unhurt and standing. He was holding a silver knife in each hand that gleamed with an almost unearthly fire, and there were three bodies at his feet. Six others prowled around him rather than attacking en masse, which didn’t really make sense given they still had the weight of numbers on their side . . . The thought trailed off as my gaze rested on the scythe-free face of one of his opponents.
I’d seen him before.
These men weren’t cloaks. They were vampires.
But not any old vampires; these nine were from De Luca’s den, and they had sworn to kill us in revenge for their maker’s death. Obviously, our statement that we couldn’t actually claim that scalp hadn’t yet sunk into their thick skulls.
One of them spotted me and roared an order to attack. I unleashed more of the mother’s fire, and pain hit so hard that I stumbled and fell, sliding for several feet on hands and knees, skinning both before I came to a halt. I didn’t move; I couldn’t move. I just sucked in air, my whole body shaking with the force of it, fighting the cold lethargy assailing me, fighting the pain and the need to give in, to let go. To heed the siren call of the mother’s energy and become one with her.
True death lay that way, and it was one from which there would be no coming back.
Maybe one day I’d be so tired and worn by this world and the constant lifetimes of heartbreak that I would answer that call and fade away, but I wasn’t anywhere near that point just yet.
Besides, I needed to get back to Rory. Needed to be there for him.
A scuff of movement caught my attention, and I looked up. There was sweat in my eyes, and my vision was swimming in and out of focus, but the figure that approached was familiar enough—Jackson, not the vampires. Not the cloaks. Which was just as well; I had very little fire left and certainly couldn’t have even held a damn gun right then, let alone used it.
He dropped down beside me, and it was all I could do not to reach out, to grab all the fire that had been leashed within him by the drug, and draw it into my body.
“But that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said, placing one hand over mine. “You’re close to the edge of fading. Hell, you are fading. You need fire, Em, and right now, I’m your only source.”
I didn’t move; didn’t take. But his fingers were molten against the ice of mine, and they felt so damn good . . .
I licked my dry lips and somehow said, “I could kill you.”
“I’ll stop you before it ever gets that far.”
No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not if I got lost in the rapture of feeding, and that was a distinct possibility when I was so close to the edge.
“We can’t. Not here. Too dangerous.”
“The cloaks are gone, the vampires are either unconscious or dead, and there’s no one else around other than the people you saved. You have to do this, Em. Trust me. Please.”
There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and that, more than anything, smashed through my reluctance. I had to be closer to fading than I realized if he was that worried.
“Fine.” I entwined my fingers in his—an action that left my whole body shaking. I was close, so damn close. I clenched his fingers tighter, feeling the pulse of his heat and life against my skin, so warm and tempting. I took a shuddery breath and somehow said, “But if I start draining too much from you, hit me.”
“I would never—”
I raised my gaze to his. “It’ll break my concentration if I slip into a feeding rapture, and it might be your only chance of survival.”
He absorbed the information with barely a flicker of emotion. “Fine. Now feed.”
I closed my eyes, drew in another shuddery breath, then opened the floodgates and sucked in his fire. It was a molten river, rich with life and caring, and it washed through every part of me, chasing the ice from my veins and the weakness from my limbs. And oh, it felt good—so, so good—that rapture loomed altogether too fast. But as I reached the point of no return, something within me said, Enough. With a grunt of effort, I loosened my grip on his hand and thrust myself away from him. For several minutes, I didn’t move. I simply lay on the ground, staring up at the night sky as I gulped in air and fought the need to reach out and finish what I’d started.
“That,” Jackson said, his voice soft and edged with an oddly husky note, “was totally not what I’d been expecting.”
I looked at him. His eyes burned with desire, and he was practically radiating lust.
I blinked, caught between surprise and amusement. “You got off on that?”
“My god, you have no idea how much.” He shook his head, disbelief evident. “It felt as if I were communing with my element, drawing in a sense of strength and belonging. It felt amazing.”
Meaning it was just as well I’d maintained enough control to break the connection, because he might not have. But his words also had alarm bells ringing. Grace—the witch who’d given us the necklaces that had protected us against Frederick’s magic—had said that Jackson’s fate was now tied up with mine. I’d thought she meant it was our partnership and this case that tied our destinies together, but maybe not. Maybe she’d meant that by allowing him to merge with my spirit form, I’d become as essential to his existence as communing with his element.
And that, if true, was a consequence I wasn’t sure either of us was prepared for.
“Maybe not,” Jackson said, “but as you’re inclined to remind me, it’s a better option than being dead. Besides, it means I now have a whole new and very exciting
means of enjoying your lusciousness.”
I laughed. “Trust you to put a sexual spin on it.”
“Something I can hardly help given that’s how the experience panned out for me.” He pushed upright, walked over, and offered me a hand. “Feel free to ask for a feed anytime you feel the need.”
I clasped his hand and allowed him to haul me upright. “You might have gotten your rocks off, but it really is a dangerous thing for me to do. I have killed people that way in the past.”
I might have done so under attack, as a last-ditch effort to save myself, but that was beside the point. I’d drained life from people before, and I’d undoubtedly do it again, especially if my reserves got too low and the rapture too great to ignore.
“It was fierce enough this time—I know, because I felt it.” He brushed a sweaty strand of hair from my eyes, his touch gentle. “But you didn’t. Maybe this connection between us means you can’t. Maybe in sharing your life force you really have made me something more than a dark fae, but something less than a phoenix.”
“That’s a whole lot of maybes.” And far too many to contemplate now—not when there was still so much to do, and people to save. I stepped away from his touch. “We need to call PIT and get some of their medics here.”
“The inspector is not going to be happy to learn the cloaks remain a threat.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Especially if Rinaldo really is in control of them.”
“I don’t think he is. Or, at least, he wasn’t in charge of this lot. They were chasing after Frederick, and Rinaldo certainly wouldn’t have ordered that. I think the attack on us was an afterthought.”
Jackson snorted. “If that’s true, how the hell did they get out of Brooklyn? We destroyed all their exit points, remember.”
“Brooklyn might have been Luke’s main base, but he had at least one pocket of cloaks stashed in a sewer junction under the city, remember.” A fact we’d become aware of when we were hunting for Grace’s missing coven friends. We’d not only found them far too late to save their lives, but had almost fallen afoul of the trap Luke and his not-so-tame witch had waiting for us there. “And if he’d had one such bolt-hole, what’s to say there aren’t more?”
“The fact that he would have had to find an inconspicuous way of feeding them.” Jackson brought up the inspector’s number, then hit the CALL button. “There were a hell of a lot of bones and bodies in that sewer tunnel, remember. He couldn’t feed multiple locations without someone realizing the neighborhood was missing not only all of its animal life, but many of its homeless, too.”
I didn’t reply as he began speaking to the inspector. Instead, I turned and made my way back to the people I’d saved. The wall of fire I’d created would have disappeared the minute my strength failed, but the couple I’d rescued was still there, crouched down in the shadows of the large old doors. Relief crossed both their faces when they saw me. The man rose, one hand tucked under his companion’s elbow to help her up. “It is done? Are we safe?”
I nodded. “We’ve called in medics. They’ll be here in—” I hesitated and glanced at Jackson. Though he wasn’t looking at me, he nevertheless held up a hand, fingers spread. “Five minutes.”
Which was damn fast. But maybe the inspector had ordered units on standby, just in case we needed help. And she’d undoubtedly want to contain this situation as fast as possible.
“Are our friends . . . ?” The woman’s voice trailed off.
I glanced over at them. That pool of blood was even bigger than before, but at least one of them still appeared to be breathing.
“I’m a doctor,” the man said. “I might be able to help them.”
I hesitated, and then nodded. In truth, there was nothing he could do to save them now, even if he did manage to keep them alive. The cloaks that had infected them were the mad kind, and that meant that, whether they lived or died, the three would become one of them. Death of the victim didn’t stop the progress of the virus, because the virus had been born out of experiments to uncover what made vampires all but immortal. They might not have uncovered that, but they’d obviously come close enough since the Crimson Death virus turned its victims in much the same manner as sharing the blood of a master vampire made mortals turn into vampires upon death.
But that was news PIT could break to them.
I stood beside the woman, comforting her as best I could as the doctor did his utmost to save his remaining companion.
PIT operatives appeared a few minutes later. One of them—a tall, slightly chubby-looking man with dark hair—approached me, and recognition stirred. He’d been one of the two men the inspector had sent to collect Jackson’s blood sample.
“Brad Harvey,” he said, saving me the embarrassment of not remembering his name. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Pearson. Shame it couldn’t be under better circumstances.”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “Has the inspector told you what happened?”
His gaze swept the young woman I was half supporting. “She did indeed. The threat has been neutralized?”
“For the moment.”
His gaze sharpened abruptly. “Meaning?”
“Simply that this situation may be a taste of what is to come.”
He relaxed a little. “Let’s worry about that when it happens. Now, young lady,” he added, returning his attention to the other woman, “why don’t you come with me? We’ve a medical unit approaching right now.”
As he spoke, the wail of approaching sirens cut across the night. He took the woman’s arm and led her gently—but firmly—away.
Another agent approached. “The inspector asked me to remind you about the meeting this evening.”
I nodded. “Are we free to go?”
“Yes—as soon as you make your report. A verbal one will do—I’ll relay the information back to base, where it’ll be written up.”
Which was an interesting way to do things, but at least it saved us the hassle of paperwork. I gave him a quick summary of everything that had happened, including both the attack and our meeting with Frederick. Rinaldo might not be pleased, but PIT needed to know the scientists might not only be out of Brooklyn, but in his hands. Once I finished, the agent nodded and said, “Thanks. You can go now.”
I stepped away, then hesitated and half turned around. “What’s going to happen to these people now?”
I knew what would happen, but I guess part of me was hoping I was wrong, that PIT would simply hold them somewhere in the hope that a cure could be found.
The agent shrugged. “It depends on what happens when they go through the change.”
“And if they’re not the sane ones?”
“Then we do what must be done.” His soft voice held little in the way of emotion, but I guess that was to be expected since he’d probably dealt with this sort of situation many times over. “When you are fighting a war, there will always be civilian casualties. It can’t be helped, no matter what we might otherwise wish.”
It wasn’t a war yet, I wanted to say, but the truth was, we were certainly on the brink of one. Because if this virus got out of control, then it would be as much a battle for supremacy and survival as any of the world wars.
I nodded and walked away. Jackson was standing guard over two of De Luca’s get. Both had been stripped, gagged, and roughly bound with their own clothes. They were also furious, if their attempts to get free and their muffled curses were anything to go by. Jackson stepped back as one jackknifed toward him; then he calmly placed a boot on the side of the vampire’s head and held him still.
“Where are the others?” I asked, looking around.
“You cindered five, and the remaining three have been hauled off by PIT. They’re coming back for these two.”
As he spoke, two men appeared out of the shadows. They gave Jackson a nod of thanks, hauled the vampires upright, and marched them out of
the gardens.
“And we,” Jackson said, tucking my arm through his, “can now go.”
“Good, because I seriously need to sleep right now.”
“You’re not the only one,” he replied heavily.
It was a silent drive home. We stopped briefly at McDonald’s in Seymour to move the van and drop off the phone PIT had given us, then continued on. Dawn was beginning to unfurl pink and gold fingers across the night sky by the time we reached the cabin. I bounded up the steps with more energy than I really had and quickly unlocked the door. Rory didn’t look up or greet me, but only because he was still fast asleep by the fire. But he must have been awake sometime during the night, because there were protein bar wrappers scattered around him.
The relief that hit me was so fierce that my knees threatened to give way. Jackson stopped behind me and lightly touched my elbow, providing support. “You’re letting all the heat out, you know. And while I happen to think that wouldn’t be a bad thing given this place feels like a sauna, I’m thinking it’s deliberate.”
“You’re right—it is.” I forced my tired legs into action and walked over to Rory. He must have felt my presence, because he muttered something and reached for me. I caught his hand and let his fingers wrap around mine. I felt the urgency to connect, to renew, jump from his flesh to mine.
“How is he?” Jackson headed for the bathroom, stripping off as he did.
“On the road to recovery.” And already feeling much stronger. “You can take the bed if you’d like. I’ll lie here next to Rory and the fire.”
“I’ll grab a shower first.” He hesitated, a grin flashing. “And I’d better make it a very cold one, since the prospect of loving is very far away on the horizon for me right now.”
