Jeanne C. Stein - Retribution

by Jeanne C. Stein

  Where is he?

  I stand back, listening, sniffing the air, probing for his telepathic signature.

  It’s not Williams’ marker that I pick up.

  It’s Deveraux’s.

  He’s sensed that I am here. But he’s not sending words, he’s sending feelings. Desperation. Fear. Pain.

  I’m careful not to respond. Williams might intercept.

  He’s somewhere in the rear of the basement.

  How did they get in?

  I crouch down to peer in again. This time I see a pattern to the debris. Something strong pushed girders and beams aside, forging a squat tunnel that snakes back. I have to get on my hands and knees to wiggle through. It’s wide enough, but only three feet high. The rough edges of torn metal soon eat through the fabric of my jacket and T-shirt and scour the skin on my back. No matter. The torment in Deveraux’s cry for help still reverberates in my head.

  The smell and feel of my own blood running in rivulets from the cuts awakens the beast. I keep it in check. Williams will recognize the presence of another vampire even before he picks up the scent of my blood.

  I concentrate on moving forward, ignore the white-hot pain as my skin is being flayed. Think of something else.

  Like how was Williams able to get Sophie to maneuver the narrow passageway? Did she allow herself to be taken? She has an air of resignation about her that sparks irritation in me. Is her guilt about her part in Burke’s plan so great she is willing to give up to him without a fight?

  Not so with Deveraux. He took the chance to reach out.

  The tunnel ends about twenty feet in. I remain on hands and knees and peek out. Near where the foot of the staircase used to be, where I last saw Ortiz, someone waits. The ruins of the staircase form an alcove tall enough for a person to stand. Williams’ scent comes to me first, saturated with hate so strong it blocks out everything else.

  Then the smell of blood. Sophie’s. Where is she?

  Williams’ back is to me. I can’t tell what he’s doing, only that his attention is held by whatever it is. Hate is giving way to pleasure—potent, sexual. I taste it in the air. He’s excited.

  Where is Sophie?

  Deveraux has been waiting for me. As soon as he senses that I’m close, he says, Stop him. Now. He’s going to kill her.

  I spring from the tunnel and hit Williams low and hard.

  He is taken by surprise. He falls back and away. He doesn’t know it’s me until he springs up, whirls around.

  I expect to meet the vampire.

  Instead, I meet the man.

  What I see in his human eyes is more frightening than any beast.

  CHAPTER 54

  “ANNA.” HE SMILES AT ME. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN you would show up.”

  His expression is disingenuous, cold.

  He holds up his hands. They’re soaked in blood. Sophie’s. His body hides her, but I know. I move to the side, wary, on guard, to see.

  Sophie.

  She’s bound hands and feet to a girder. Her jeans and shirt have been sliced from neck to navel. Her blood soaks through fabric, puddles on the ground. Whatever weapon he used was sharp, a single downward thrust ripped through fabric and skin, leaving a bloody trail.

  Her head droops. Her eyes are closed but her chest labors as she struggles to breathe. Is she drugged?

  “Williams, what are you doing?”

  He pulls a bloody knife from a scabbard at his waist. “Exacting justice.”

  “This isn’t justice. It’s not Sophie’s fault Ortiz is dead.”

  “No. It isn’t, is it? It’s Burke’s.”

  His eyes flick to Sophie. “She won’t tell me how to find her. I tried the beast. I tried the human. She refuses to show me the way.”

  “The way?”

  A nod. “The others at the park said there’s a conduit between the earthly plane and the ethereal one. They couldn’t locate Burke on earth. To traverse into the higher plane, they said it would take blood. Familial blood.” He points downward with the knife. Near his feet is a small crystal bowl filled with blood. “I’m going to take the blood to them. Let them send me to the other world. First, I’ll finish what you stopped me from doing yesterday.”

  The beast is contained. Williams isn’t letting the vampire surface either mentally or physically. He wants to do this as a human. He wants not only to collect Sophie’s blood for the spell but to watch her die.

  It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before.

  “Williams, listen to me. Sophie is human. You’ve been a cop. You know it’s wrong to kill her. You have what you need. Take it to the park. I’ll go with you if you want. We’ll go after Burke together.”

  Deveraux stirs in Sophie’s consciousness. What are you waiting for? Kill the bastard. He’s crazy. Don’t you see that?

  But it’s not insanity I see in Williams’ eyes. It’s pain.

  Pain I understand. Pain I felt every moment for the last three days. Pain that would have become unbearable had I lost Culebra and Frey the way Williams lost Ortiz.

  I take a step toward him, hands outstretched. “I promise. Let Sophie go and we’ll go after Burke. Together.”

  If I unleashed my own beast, force him to give me the knife, would he respond?

  “Don’t.”

  His eyes are penetrating. He seems able to read my intentions as easily as he can my thoughts.

  “Do you want to know why her vampires were different?”

  I don’t know whether to be encouraged by or wary of the change of subject, but I nod.

  “The serum in those syringes. The serum she had her lapdog Jason inject into those girls. It turned them into genetic freaks—made their blood simulate vampire blood but gave them nothing of vampire strength or power to protect them. They were vampire only for what they could provide for her business. And once they had been drained, their shells were tossed like garbage. Jason alone was different and even he was tricked in the end. He was a throwback to the beginning, created by magic, destroyed by sunlight. Weak. Pathetic. Stupid.”

  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 Soph
ie 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 turn 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 han
d. “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.