"Anne?"
"He wanted to send some stranger from the Order to explain things to you, take you someplace safe. I wanted to do that, to see for myself that you were okay, and I didn't feel like wasting time arguing about it."
She opened a browser and navigated to her blog to log in.
"While I get this video pulled, why don't you get the kids packed up, and I can take you to the airport. I'll buy you all tickets to visit your parents in Florida."
Val laughed. “Anne, I can't just up and leave. I have a job to think about. The kids are in school. Joey's not even here; I let him spend the night with a friend. Besides, my parents wouldn't appreciate me just showing up on their doorstep."
Joey, her youngest nephew, should be safe at his friend's house. If she didn't know his location, then no one from the Horde could figure it out either. But staying here in her brother's house was out of the question. “Then I'll put you and Jacob up in a hotel tonight and pick up Joey in the morning. You can stay there—someplace safe—at least until I can be sure the danger has passed. Okay?"
"I don't know..."
She grabbed Val's hand. “I need to do this. Mark would expect me to do whatever I could to make sure that you and the boys are safe."
"Okay, but only if you come with us."
"I will. I'll take you there myself."
"No, I mean you come with us and you stay. No more solo, suicidal, vigilante hunts."
Cheyenne frowned. “But how am I to find out—"
"I'm sure you can contact that priest, Father What's-his-name, you mentioned. He can let Kieran know where you are and notify you of when the danger has passed."
"All right, but hurry."
Val got up and called to Jacob. Cheyenne went back to work on the Web site.
A while later, as the sun set, Cheyenne grew nervous about the idea of traveling to the hotel so close to nightfall. It might be better if they hunkered down for the night and sought out a hotel in the bright light of day.
"Ready to go,” Val said as she set the last bag down at the bottom of the stairs.
Cheyenne went to retrieve her laptop case when the doorbell rang. She spun around and said, “Wait,” but it was too late.
Val turned the knob ... and screamed.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twelve
Kieran parked his motorcycle behind Cheyenne's van in the driveway of the two-story house in one of the city's better suburban neighborhoods. Then he removed his brand new helmet, which he'd been forced to purchase to avoid potential delays from traffic cops.
Tristan pulled to the curb in his ABT Audi R8, a sports car worth six figures that stuck out in this neighborhood like a sober person on Bourbon Street in the middle of Mardi Gras, even at dusk with only the street lamps to spotlight the area.
Kieran didn't wait for the man to get out and approach him. He got off the bike and headed for the door. He had a lot to discuss with his wayward charge, not to mention another spanking to deliver for the inconvenience of leaving him stranded at the church. It had taken too many wasted minutes for him to retrieve his bike—time that would've been better spent debriefing the other vamps on Marsalis.
Tristan caught up with him before he reached the front porch and pressed a button on the wireless headset to his cell phone, which he wore on his left ear. It was the only thing the man wore that wasn't made of black leather or silk. “The others are on their way,” he said. “About five minutes out."
"Have you ever heard of keeping a low profile?” Kieran asked.
"Why the fuck would I want to do that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're a vampire?"
He slapped Kieran on the shoulder. “I finished hiding in the shadows in the sixteenth century."
Tristan leaped onto the porch, which was illuminated by a single wall sconce and light through the front windows. He froze the same moment Kieran noticed the door slightly ajar. Both men closed their eyes and took deep breaths.
Kieran was the first to speak. “She's not here, but she hasn't been gone long. The connection is strong."
Shit!
"I smell vampires,” Tristan said.
He was right. Kieran picked up the scent of at least one he recognized and two, maybe three, more that were unfamiliar. Worse, he smelled the fear that the humans in the house had experienced when the safety of their home was breached.
Tristan pushed the door open farther.
No blood, thank God. Luggage lay scattered just inside the door. A lamp had been knocked off a table. The pictures on the wall above it hung askew. But there was no sight of blood stains or the scent of fresh, spilled blood.
"What now?” Tristan asked.
Kieran stepped back outside and murmured, “Cheyenne.” He opened his senses, reaching out for her unique signal. The scent of her blood, the beat of her heart. The link that bound her to him forever because he'd once, no three times, tasted her life force. It had been strong enough to lead him here. It must remain strong now.
He had to find her ... and soon. Her life depended on it.
His eyelids popped open, and he pointed. “That way."
"You track,” Tristan said. “I'll drive."
Without hesitation, they raced to his car.
* * * *
Cheyenne was going to puke. The terror was so palpable, but she had to hold it together, stay strong for Val and Jacob and somehow ensure their survival. There was no way she could shelter her nephew now from the existence of vampires, not since a quartet of the fiends swarmed into Val's home.
It has been a miracle that they hadn't killed them right then, but they weren't there for blood. They'd come for her; that had been obvious. And like before, the female vamp stepped in to remind the others that Marsalis wanted her brought to him alive.
Why? She had no idea.
That protection, however, hadn't extended to her family, at least not until she vowed to die rather than go with them if they harmed Val or Jacob. She was still surprised she'd convinced them to keep her sister-in-law and nephew alive, although she feared it would prove to be a brief reprieve. Fortunately, one of the vamps whom the others called Rico decided it might make for a boon if they brought Marsalis even more than what he wanted. They'd let their leader decide the humans’ fates.
So, now she walked disarmed behind her sister-in-law, who hugged her son close to her side as the vampires escorted them up to what appeared to be an abandoned plantation home overcome by the brutal passage of time in the bayou. Flickering lights from inside offered the only evidence that life still existed inside the old mansion. Undead life.
The sun had set, which made the trek that much more frightening. The soggy ground squished beneath each footstep. Rustling sounds of unseen animals caused her to flinch more than once.
The boards creaked as they made their way up to the expansive, albeit dilapidated, porch. Val and Jacob hesitated even after a vamp opened the front door. The vampiress shoved her sister-in-law. “Get moving."
Cheyenne entered, quickly catching up with Val who clung to her son even more now. Though she whispered words of encouragement, she pressed his face toward her body to shield him from the sight of half a dozen vampires lounging around the space. They didn't look like your Hollywood gang of gothic vamps all dressed in black, but rather a colorful mix of actors prepped for performances in various plays, some historical, some modern. Only their exposed fangs and hungry stares identified them as undead members of the Horde.
Cheyenne moved in to try to put herself between her family and the danger, but an angry, knife-wielding vampire grabbed her arm and yanked her toward a set of French doors. He was the same damn vamp who'd stolen the only blade she'd been wearing when they barged into Val's home.
Two other vamps from the original quartet shoved open the French doors to a room filled with at least twenty more vampires. A couple were naked and chained like rabid animals to the wall.
Cheyenne got her first glimpse
of the legendary Marsalis.
He sat at the opposite end of the vast room, which was illuminated by two grand chandeliers of candles and a wall of large windows that let in fractured moonlight. He was well-groomed in very elegant but outdated clothing. A coiled whip hung at his hip in odd contrast to the delicate lace that peeked at her from his cuffed sleeves. His face was clean-shaved, smooth, and emotionless. His dark hair hung past broad shoulders and was pulled back into a ponytail tied off with a thin black ribbon. At first glance, he looked to be no older than his early twenties, but she knew better. His eyes told a different story. They were deep set, cold, and calculating.
The vampiric knife-lover all but dragged her before him and forced her to the floor when he dropped to one knee. Damn, his grip hurt.
"The human slayer, Sire,” he announced.
"As promised,” the vampiress added from behind her.
"So I see. Well done, Dagger.” When Marsalis’ gaze moved from Cheyenne and Dagger toward her family, a blizzard of dread blew through her nervous system. “What else do we have here, Anessa?” he asked in heavily accented English.
Before the vampiress could answer, Cheyenne snatched an unguarded knife from a holder at her captor's side. With a swipe of the blade and surprise on her side, she sliced a gaping wound in the vampire called Dagger, gained her release, and took a defensive stance. “Let them go,” Cheyenne said. “They're not part of this."
Marsalis never even flinched. He held up a hand, which probably saved her life, since those around them held off their attack.
She knew she was way outnumbered, but at least she was armed and could go down fighting. She might get lucky and kill a few. Her gaze fixed on Marsalis. If they all had to die, she'd do what she could to at least take him to hell with her.
"You do not fear death as most humans do,” he said in a tone so calm, she wondered whether his heart even beat inside that damn chest of his.
"What's to fear? You're dead,” she said. “You seem to be doing all right."
He laughed, which seemed to surprise the vampires around them. She caught more than a couple exchanging stunned glances.
Cheyenne wanted to look at Val and Jacob, check on them to see if they were okay. Their soft whimpers were her only clue to their location. But she didn't dare turn her gaze from the ancient vampire.
Marsalis took a step to one side, and she adjusted her stance to keep him in view. “I like you,” he said, taking another step, and another. “You're witty."
She turned as he circled her and kept her blade at the ready. “So glad to have amused you.” On her periphery, she spotted Val and Jacob standing together a few feet away and surrounded by three vampires.
Marsalis flashed a full-fanged grin, but the show of good humor did little to soften the predatory threat in his eyes. “Oh, you have. I can see now why Kieran rescued you. He's always had a soft spot in that heart of his for fair-haired beauties, such as yourself. Although yours is a shade darker than hers if I recall. It has been a few years since I last saw her."
"Julia's alive?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He raised an eyebrow and stopped to face her. “So, he told you about her, did he?” When she refused to answer, he continued. “Interesting. You must be more important to him than I thought. Oh, and, no, she's not. Death was the price she paid for turning Kieran into one of us without permission."
Sadness weighed on her heart with the knowledge that, like her, Kieran had lost someone so dear. But she couldn't dwell on the past, not if she wanted to have any hope for a future. She'd yet to locate a way out, a way to save her family, but she kept talking to gain more time.
"I'm not important to him. I only just met him yesterday."
His eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Tell me, do you sing, perhaps?"
She had to convince him somehow. He would not use her to get to Kieran. She wouldn't allow it, so she kept a straight face and conjured up a vision of how angry she'd been with Kieran at first.
"No."
"Pity.” He continued to circle her, his gaze toward the floor, one hand raised to tap a finger on his chin. His display of mild curiosity and distracted thought did not convince her that now was a good time to attack. The man ... the monster wasn't an idiot, and neither was she.
"Could you explain to me how it is you came to meet Kieran without either of you killing one another?” He glanced at her and stopped. “You are a vampire slayer after all, and he's a vamp."
"He contacted me before sunset. I didn't know he was a vampire at first.” Keep talking. Search for a chink in the armor, a way out...
"I see."
She frowned on purpose. “He told me some stupid story about a group of humans and vamps with way too much time on their hands. Called it the Order or something like that. Said they were the good guys, as if I'd just accept his word for that. He thought he could convince me that not all vamps were bad by saving my ass in the cemetery."
"And did he?"
"Oh, he saved me from your cronies...” She sneered. “But, like you said, he's a vampire, too, and one of your kind killed my husband. My daughter. You're all monsters in my book."
"I see.” Marsalis’ smile turned ominous. “If you aren't a part of the Order, you're of little use to me other than as a carrot for Kieran. I'd thought you'd be more difficult to break, had looked forward to a little sadistic entertainment for my guests."
Those same undead guests chuckled at his comment. Chains clanked and rattled when the two affixed to the wall jumped with apparent excitement.
"But you've told me all I need to know."
"Did I? And what if I lied?"
His smile vanished. He released his whip, the tail slithering to the floor. A rumble of excitement swept over the vampires. A bolt of fear struck her in the gut. The two ravenous creatures bound to the wall leaped and yanked at their chains.
She tightened her grip on the only weapon she had.
Marsalis said, “We shall see. And you best hope that you lied about Kieran and how much you mean to him, because if he doesn't show up tonight, you'll be dead by sunrise."
The strike was so quick she had no time to react. The whip's end wrapped around her wrist, and a jerk sent her sliding across the floor and the blade sailing from her grasp.
Val screamed. Jacob shouted.
The windows shattered. Cheyenne ducked her head and shut her eyes against the rainfall of fractured glass.
A war erupted around her. Chaos ensued.
Before she could climb to her knees or even raise her head to see what was going on, the whip cracked again but, although she braced herself to receive the blow, the burning sting of its bite never came.
She hollered for Val, but got no answer, or couldn't hear one over the cacophony of conflict. Then she saw Kieran, not two feet from her, the tail of the whip wrapped around his forearm. A thin line of blood trickled from his arm. He'd come between her and that whip, she realized, but she had no time to dwell on it.
Scampering for cover amid the debris and ash clouds, she searched for Val, for Jacob, for a weapon of her own. A hand closed over her shoulder, and she spun to slug the threat.
The stranger caught her fist and said, “Whoa, I'm one of the good guys. Hold—” He shoved her behind him with one hand and swung a sword with the other to decapitate a vamp who attacked. The vamp disintegrated into a fiery ball of cinders and ashes. “Name's Tristan. Kieran's a little busy at the moment. I'm here to get you and your family out."
"Save them. I'm not leaving.” She darted toward the wall where she spotted her lost knife.
"Fuck,” her new companion cursed before swinging at another attacker. “Get back here!"
She dropped to her knees, the shards of glass making tiny cuts in her palms and knees as she scrambled to grab the knife.
"Val! Jacob!” She had to find them.
Armed again, she climbed to her feet and searched the room. When her gaze returned to where Kieran had been, she found him
engaged in the most dangerous of standoffs with an opponent who didn't fight fair.
* * * *
Kieran ignored the individual battles that began the moment he and the others from the Order crashed through the windows. He'd no way of knowing how many vampires were inside, whether he'd brought a team large enough to succeed. All he knew or cared about was that Marsalis was inside and he had Cheyenne.
He paid no attention to the minor wound in his arm and kept his eyes focused on the bastard who'd dared to take her.
As a human, he'd been unable to save Julia from Marsalis’ clutches, but he'd be damned if he'd permit Cheyenne to feel the sting of Marsalis’ lash. Or suffer the same fate as Julia.
Marsalis snarled and yanked on the whip, but Kieran would not release the other end.
A rogue vampire stumbled backwards toward him. Kieran kicked out. His boot caught the vamp in the ass and sent him flailing into the grip of one from the Order.
Kieran never took his eyes off Marsalis. “It's over,” he told him. “Your time has come."
Marsalis gave a slow shake of his head. “You always were a dreamer, Kieran. Julia told me all about your plans, how you proposed, and vowed to take care of her.” His mouth curled with a show of disgust. “How you expected the two of you would grow old and die together."
Separated by the length of the whip, each man refusing to give up his hold, they circled each other like two jungle cats facing off over a territory dispute.
"How pathetic that you live on at the expense of her lost beauty."
"I didn't kill her, Marsalis. You did."
"She disobeyed me! I couldn't allow her to live. Her lust for you cost her her life."
"What life? An eternity spent as a vampire enslaved to you?"
Marsalis moved a few more steps to his left. “I created her!"
"No. You destroyed her. You took her life, made her into a vampire, and then killed her when you discovered you could no longer control her—no longer expect her adoration.” Kieran wound another segment of the whip around his fist. “I won't allow you to do the same to Cheyenne."
Seduction's Bite Page 9
