Green-Eyed Demon (Sabina Kane #3)

by Jaye Wells

  In the lengthening shadows of deep dusk, nothing moved save the occasional breeze. The rain had stopped, leaving mist to rise from the damp earth like hazy spirits. As in the other cemeteries I’d visited since arriving in New Orleans, a low hum buzzed in my ears. But now I knew it was a result of my Chthonic powers reacting to the death energy there, and I was able to push it aside and focus on my task.

  When Zen said people left flowers on tombs for All Saints’ Day, I expected a couple of sad carnations. Instead, elaborate wreaths and bouquets leaned against the monuments. Some people had even left offerings of food and bottles of liquor. Debris and candles littered the grounds, like we’d just missed a huge party.

  Soon, we reached the tomb I’d seen in my astral projection. Adam and I ducked nearby, next to another, smaller mausoleum. Even as I looked for traps or guards, my eyes sought out some sign of David’s ghost among the marble slabs. I still hadn’t figured out why he’d come or who sent him, but I guessed I wouldn’t now. Unless he showed up again or until I met him again in Irkalla. And by then it’d be too late.

  “Cover me,” Adam said, his body tensed to dart across the open space separating us from the tomb. I grabbed his arm.

  “Be careful. It might be booby-trapped.”

  He nodded curtly. Paused. His gaze met mine. I held my breath, wondering if he’d relent enough to say a final farewell. But just when I expected him to say something, he bolted away like a sprinter.

  A lump formed in my throat at his easy rejection. The lack of emotion in his gaze. The loss of connection. The loss of Adam, period. Gritting my teeth, I scanned the area for unfriendlies.

  Behind me, I heard Adam grunt followed by the gravelly slide of stone against stone. I turned in time to see the lid to the sarcophagus crash to the ground. It split apart into several pieces.

  Adam began chanting under his breath. The breeze carried tendrils of magic toward me. The hair on my arms stood but soon relaxed as the magic fizzled abruptly. He cursed under his breath. Again, nothing.

  I raised the gun and did another sweep, but the cemetery remained quiet except for the sound of Adam struggling against something heavy. His muscles strained as he tried to lift something from the box.

  “Sabina,” he whispered.

  “What?” I called quietly over my shoulder, my eyes scanning the perimeter.

  “Come help me with the lid.”

  I did one last sweep as I backed toward him. My boots sunk into the muddy ground. When I reached him, I saw sweat beaded on his forehead from exertion. He jerked his head toward the foot of the metal box inside. “Grab that end.”

  I looked down to see some sort of metal sarcophagus resting inside the marble crate. No wonder Adam’s magic didn’t work. The entire body-shaped box was covered in intricate brass scrollwork. Still, I didn’t understand why Adam couldn’t use his muscles to pry the thing open until I hooked my fingers under the edges and pulled. “Holy crap,” I grunted. “Brass shouldn’t be this heavy.”

  Veins stood on his neck as he gritted out a response. “It’s cast iron. Now lift!”

  Our feet dug in for leverage and we put our backs into it. And with that, we still only managed to lift the lid a fraction. Even cast iron shouldn’t have been that heavy. They must have warded it or something to make it harder to get into. Or get out of.

  My muscles shook with the effort, but spurred on by being so close to seeing Maisie, I ignored the strain and redoubled my efforts. Then, finally, with one last heave, Adam and I managed to flip the heavy top up and over the edge of the marble box. It hit the ground with a loud thud.

  We leaned forward to peer inside. At first, my heart dropped, thinking we’d opened the wrong vault. The pale, gaunt figure inside resembled something out of a horror movie. A tattered gray gown with bone-thin flesh poking through. Face covered in a black muslin shroud. Then the smell hit me. Unwashed flesh and excrement. Fear and rage. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand as nausea threatened.

  I glanced up at Adam, whose eyes were wide with shock. “What the—”

  A spine-jarring wail cut off my question. I jerked my gaze back to the box, where blood-caked fingers clawed at the shroud. Out of instinct, I jerked back and pointed the gun at the body. Adam held up a hand and reached in to pluck the fabric from the face.

  I gasped. “Maisie?” The name came out in the form of a question, because the being inside the box looked a hell of a lot more like the Crypt Keeper than my identical twin. Cheekbones jutted from skin so desiccated her fangs and teeth protruded from almost nonexistent lips. Unfocused blue eyes rolled wildy in their sockets. Black-and-red hair matted down with dried blood in places and sticking up like porcupine quills in others.

  “Maisie, honey? Can you hear us?” Adam whispered.

  Her head twisted toward the sound of his voice. But instead of calming her, it seemed to enrage her. A high, thin growl, not unlike a wounded animal’s, echoed through the cemetery. Her twig arms jutted toward the mage, her fingers bent into talons. Adam pulled back just in time to avoid being grabbed. Fear lit his eyes as he met my shocked gaze across her thrashing form. “Help me!”

  I grabbed her flailing wrists as gently as I could. But even wasted away as she was, I had trouble subduing her. A major problem, since we were trying to sneak her out. “Maisie, it’s Sabina. You need to calm down and be quiet.”

  But Maisie was beyond understanding. Blood-starved and terrified and enraged. Adam helped me try to hold her down. Our efforts only made things worse. She fought harder, alternating between rabid snarls and snapping her fangs at any available flesh.

  “Ouch, dammit!” Adam yelped. A rivulet of blood ran down his forearm and splashed Maisie’s face. She snorted and tried to frantically reach the drops with her pale tongue.

  The pitiful sight sent a shard of ice through my heart. “Bind your wound. I’ve got her,” I barked, taking her other wrist from Adam.

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice tight.

  I looked up and glared at him. “The scent of your blood isn’t helping. Bind it. Now.”

  A muscle in his jaw worked, but he finally pulled away to rip a strip of fabric from his shirt. Satisfied he’d take care of it, I focused on trying to restrain Maisie without hurting her. But the scent and taste of Adam’s blood made her jackknife up in the box in pursuit of more. She managed to pry a hand loose. Talon nails swiped a painful trail across my face. My skin throbbed hotly along the shallow slashes.

  “Maisie, stop!” I pulled my face out of range of her snapping teeth.

  I briefly considered trying to help her with my own blood. But I discarded the thought immediately. Allowing her to feed from my own vein was too dangerous. She was too ravenous. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Lavinia showed up to see my reaction to her little gift. Depleting my reserves now wasn’t an option.

  “Adam, there’s a jug of blood in the bike’s storage compartment.”

  He didn’t argue. One second he was beside me and the next he disappeared. Maisie had risen up above me, bearing down. It took everything I had to hold her off.

  I felt rather than saw Adam’s reappearance. “Maisie!”

  The scent of animal blood reached my nose the same instant Maisie’s body went stiff. Her head jerked around with a growl. She leapt at Adam, ripping the jug from his hands. She threw back her head and poured the red liquid into her mouth. It splashed her cheeks, ran down her chin, splattered the shredded remains of the chiton. She snorted and slurped at the plastic like a dog intent on licking every last drop from a bowl. Finally, she tossed it aside and proceeded to run her tongue over her fingers, her chin.

  Meanwhile, I’d made my way slowly back around the vault to stand next to Adam. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe one measly container of blood would be enough to satisfy her. Especially when, in her haste, she’d managed to spill half its contents all over herself. She’d been without for more than a week and endured Lavinia and gods only knew who else draining her. So
the desperation made sense. And if my suspicions were correct, the physical and psychological trauma of her captivity would demand twice or three time as much blood as she’d normally need. What worried me most, though, was that the blood she’d just consumed might give her just enough strength to make a real go at either Adam’s or my jugular.

  Looking up at her red-streaked, skeletal face as she sucked blood from the fabric of her dress, I felt real fear. Palpable, bone-chilling fear. The kind that comes when you think you’ve seen it all but something comes along that far exceeds your worst nightmare. Because when the blood-crazed female finally opened her eyes, I didn’t see my sister in there. The earthy, generous, kind-hearted Maisie had checked out, and this blood-starved beast had taken up residence in her body.

  “More.” The gravelly voice hinted at destroyed vocal cords. From starvation or from days spent screaming for help that never came, I didn’t know.

  Adam held up his hands. “We’ll get you more soon. But first we need to get out of here.”

  “More!” the wraith that used to be my sister screamed.

  I stepped forward, slowly. “Maisie, sweetheart, Adam needs to take you home now. He’ll get you blood as soon as you get there, okay?”

  Maisie threw back her head and howled. “Blood!”

  “Maisie, stop!” I jumped at her, grabbing the frayed hem of her chiton and yanking. “We have to get you to out of here.”

  Her body swayed and she cackled. Her knees creaked as she lowered herself to look into my face. “Shh.” A single dirty finger ran down my cheek. “The black dog howls at the crossroads.” She threw back her head and howled like a wolf at the moon.

  Every hair on my body stood at attention. I grabbed her arms with suddenly frigid hands. Keeping my voice steady, I said, “Time to go.”

  She cocked her head like a bird. “The skeleton clock is ticking, ticking, ticking.”

  A chill ran down my spine, like someone walked over my grave. The words she’d spoken? They were straight out of the vision quest I had back in New York. I had no idea what they meant, but hearing them come from my sister’s mouth felt like a seriously bad omen. “Adam, grab her. You two have to get out of here.”

  “But—”

  I jerked my head around to glare at him over my shoulder. “Now!”

  He jumped into motion then, wrapping his arms around Maisie. She cackled again as he held her tight to his chest like a baby. “What about you?”

  I pulled a second gun from my belt, my eyes already searching for whatever was coming. “Dammit, mancy, just go!”

  He hesitated. And in that split second, Maisie’s screeching laughter cut off abruptly. The sudden silence was heavy. In the next instant, my sister, looking like Carrie after the prom, whispered, “Too late.”

  Before I could react to the downright creepiness of her hushed words, a gate on a nearby crypt slammed open. Red-hooded figures swarmed into the clearing. An instant later, magic crackled through the clearing as several Caste members flashed in.

  Driven by instinct and adrenaline, I spun and started shooting. “Go!” I shouted over my shoulder at the mage.

  Bullets flew thick through the air. I tried to pick off as many of the enemy as possible. My goal was to distract them long enough for Adam to get the hell out of Dodge. But when no signs of magic tightened the air, I chanced a look over my shoulder.

  My heart stuttered and my breath whooshed out like I’d been sucker punched.

  My grandmother tilted her head and smiled at me. She wore a low-cut scarlet silk number—like this was a fucking formal ball instead of an ambush. Standing next to her was a familiar Avenger demon whose presence chilled my bones. But it was the brass garrote wrapped around Adam’s throat that made my heart stop.

  “We are so thrilled you decided to join us for the party,” Granny Dearest said. “Now, why don’t you drop those weapons before my friend here removes the mancy’s head. You remember Eurynome, don’t you, dear?”

  29

  I gripped the guns tighter in my clammy palms. “I’m the one you want. Let them go.”

  Lavinia smirked and crossed her arms. The entire audience of her flunkies had gone silent, waiting for her command. “You still believe this is all just about you? I suppose that’s to be expected from an only child.”

  “I’m not an only child.” I nodded toward Maisie, who struggled against the hold of two Caste vamps. “But if I tend to act like one, you have no one else to blame but yourself.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Actually, if it’d been up to me, neither of you would have existed at all.” She waved a ringed hand through the air. “But that mistake will be rectified soon enough. Now do as Grandmother asked and drop the weapons.”

  My heart galloped and cold sweat bloomed on my back. Funny thing about playing the hero—no one ever tells you how hard it is to be brave when you’re scared shitless. But if I dropped my weapons, I’d lose my chance to end this. I knew that as sure as I knew this was the only way to save Adam and Maisie.

  Instead of lowering the guns, I raised them—one filled with vampire-killing bullets and the other mundane. Time slowed. Adam shouted something. Movement from my left. The hair on my neck prickled, warning of an impending magic attack. No more time to hesitate.

  Exhale.

  Squeeze.

  Explosion.

  Chaos.

  The spell slammed into me like a freight train. Vertigo as it knocked me off my feet. Crushing pain as my body slammed into stone. An inevitable slide followed by the crunch of bone against earth. On some level, I knew the spell came from Eurynome. I’d been subjected to his particular form of magical torture before on a New York subway platform. Luckily, Giguhl had been there that night to intervene while the spell ravaged my body. Now, however, familiarity didn’t lessen the spell’s impact. The magic spread beneath my skin like thousands of fire ants trying to consume me from the inside.

  Lost in a haze of pain, I was only vaguely aware of scattering bodies and frantic shouts. A flash of light illuminated the red capillaries in my eyelids. Somehow I managed to pry one lid open. Sure enough, a plume of smoke rose from the area where Lavinia had stood only moments earlier. Frantic bodies swarmed the spot, blocking a better view.

  Eurynome bore down on me like an avenging angel. And just behind, Adam struggled to remove the brass wire from his neck. The mouth that kissed me just hours ago now opened wide in agonized shouts I couldn’t hear.

  “Go!” I tried to yell, but the words came out in a weak croak. Tears sprang to my eyes. Bittersweet. Pain, yes. Regret. But also, relief. Finally, my bullet found its target. Two months too late. But finally.

  A shadow fell across me. Blocking my view of Adam. Not long now. I closed my eyes and accepted my fate.

  “Bring her to me!”

  My eyes popped back open. The screech cut through the pain like a knife. Made my heart lock up in my chest. I couldn’t see past Eurynome’s hooves, but I’d know that banshee cry anywhere. After all, I’d grown up hearing it every time I displeased the Alpha Domina.

  “No!” My tongue felt too large for my mouth. Rough claws grabbed at my arms. Weak and dizzy, I fought the demon as best I could. Which was not nearly good enough. Never good enough.

  The Avenger demon dragged my limp body toward the clump of Brotherhood robes. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision. The Brothers parted to reveal the enraged countenance of Lavinia Kane bearing down on me.

  Pain from Eurynome’s attack dampened the heat of her palm against my face. But my head whipped back from the impact. The severe planes of Lavinia’s pale face came back into focus. As did the harsh red circle that spat blood from her chest.

  The wrong bullet had hit the right target.

  My eyes shifted to the charred, smoking remains of the Caste vampire who’d taken the right bullet. And fate whispered in my ear, “Who’s the bitch now?”

  Lavinia leaned in as the icy realization of failure spread through my limbs. “You’re going to scre
am before I send you to Irkalla.”

  Her threat didn’t touch me. The moment I realized she survived, I detached. Retreated into myself, totally removed from the promise of future pain. Nothing could hurt more than the knowledge that my mistake had signed both Adam and Maisie’s death warrants. That it signed my own didn’t matter.

  “Do your best,” I slurred.

  Sharp fingers dug into my jaw, forcing me to meet eyes glittering with a mixture of rage and madness. “But first, I’m going to make you watch me drain that mongrel lover of yours dry.”

  That did it. As much as I struggled to remain separate from this horrible reality, the tears started to run freely.

  What is it they say? Pride goeth before the fall? Well, mine went the second I realized the cider bullet missed her. “Let him go.”

  Lavinia scooted closer, squeezed my chin tighter. “What was that?”

  I swallowed the bile and taste of copper coating my tongue. “Spare him.”

  “Ah-ah-ah, ask nicely.”

  “Please.”

  “If you’re going to beg, do it properly. Please, who?”

  I closed my eyes. “Please spare him, Domina.”

  She released me as if she couldn’t stand to touch me. “Pathetic.” She spat on the ground at my feet. “No blood of mine begs for the life of a mage!” She turned her back to me, dismissing me like an abomination.

  Just beyond her, I finally spied Adam again. Despite the new gashes on his lip and forehead and the hands bound in front of him in brass shackles, he looked so brave with his shoulders thrown back and his head held high. His eyes burned at me with strong emotion. I knew better than to hope love made his eyes shine. Everything he’d predicted—and worse—had come to pass. Shame and regret washed over me like acid. That I begged for his life wouldn’t matter. If it weren’t for my stupidity, his life wouldn’t be in danger at all.

  Near the vampires holding Adam, a burly male with a copper-colored buzz cut backhanded Maisie. Her body slumped instantly, and the vamp hefted her easily over his shoulder. Eurynome wrenched me from the ground. My feet struggled to hold my weight and I stumbled. My clumsiness earned me a cuff to the back of the head.