The air grew cold in the barn. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in a heartbeat. The witches outside the circle were helpless to stop her. After all, if her circles of power could keep a demon out, it could keep them out as well.
They clambered to their feet. Their nakedness was now a hindrance as the air in the barn continued to fall past freezing. Frost formed on every surface. Breath crystallized as it left warm bodies.
“Savanna, stop!” her mother shouted.
Savanna couldn’t hear her. The gale of power that consumed her, that burned her, placed her beyond mortal words. The dagger carved one last line, biting bone as it scrapped her ribs.
Her chant ended. The gale turned into a vacuum as if the very heavens awaited Savanna’s call.
“I name the demon, come do my bidding—Alatum,” she cried out.
The thunderclap blew the roof off the barn bathing the area in twilight. The walls shuddered and collapsed. The ground gave way in clumps around Savanna’s circle. Her words of power had worked perfectly. Ice, inches thick, crawled out of the hole. The first witch wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. Her foot touched the ice, and she screamed. It died in her throat as her body froze between heartbeats.
The other witches scattered. Some began chanting to defend themselves. A massive horn jutted out of the hole in the ground, followed by a lizardlike head. One eye was missing out of a face so horrid it could never appear on a human. When it spoke, the remainder of the wall collapsed and the very ground shook.
“Who dare summon the prince of wrath?” he bellowed.
Savanna pulled herself to her feet. Her legs were red with her own blood. She held her father’s collapsed gurney with one hand to steady herself. She looked down to his blank face to gather her strength.
“I summoned thee, Alatum. Feel my wrath and drink deeply of my suffering. Grant my command and destroy those who caused it.” The demon lord roared with anger at being commanded. He slammed one massive hand down on the ground, smashing two of the coven. Blood and bone crunched under his unearthly strength.
Her mother called upon all the power her demon possessed to strike the demon lord down with her magic and banish him back to the plane he rose from. The horned giant laughed off her attempt. He stretched forth his hand, and a mighty sword, sheathed in cold flame, appeared. The blade struck down her ethereal demon, destroying it utterly in one blow. The sky darkened. Snow began to fall. Savanna’s knees buckled, her strength used up.
The last thing she saw before passing out was her mother running for her life.
***
Now
At some point in the ritual, Alexi passed out from hunger and exhaustion. Images swirled in her mind of feasting on anything that moved, of killing everything around her until she was bathed in blood.
“Alexi.” Savanna’s hushed tone cut through her muddled nightmare. “Alexi, wake up!”
Alexi came to, squinting up at the sky. It wasn’t as dark as it had been moments before. Moments? Or hours? The gray of oncoming dawn streaked through the blackness of night.
“How long have I been out?” she asked.
“An hour. I was getting worried.”
The two of them were strung up back-to-back on the six-inch-thick pole, forced to stand as the bonds around their shoulders and wrists tied them to the pole and each other. Savanna’s long hair brushed against Alexi’s bare shoulders, and she could feel the younger girl shivering.
“It’s okay, Savanna. Hang in there, honey,” she said with more conviction than she felt.
“When you took away my fear, everything seemed so clear,” Savanna said. “I saw the future clearly, and this plan materialized in my head. Now I’m scared I’ve only gotten us both killed.” Her voice wobbled at the end, and Alexi could hear the tears.
“Savanna, be calm,” Alexi said, trying to head off a spiral into hysteria. “I have a plan.”
“You . . . you do?” There was a spark of hope in Savanna’s voice. So trusting. So sure of Alexi.
“Yes,” Alexi lied, knowing she had no such thing. “It’s going to work, but I need you to stay calm. Can you do that for me?”
“I think so.”
For this first time since she fought the werewolves, her mind cleared. Hunger still gnawed at her, but she could think through it. What she really needed was for one of them to move close enough to her so she could feed. Then maybe—maybe—she could break free and end this. But how? The markings on her skin looked eerily familiar. This wasn’t going to end well.
“Excellent, you’re awake,” said Illyana from somewhere behind Alexi. “Let us begin.”
“Mother, please don’t do this,” Savanna pleaded. “I’m so sorry for everything—”
“Sorry?” Illyana spat at her daughter, and then she laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound. “You think sorry is going to mend what you’ve done? You wasted your father’s blood—you used it to slaughter your own coven. How dare you tell me you’re sorry?”
Alexi heard a sharp slap, and Savanna cried out. Alexi struggled weakly against the cord binding her to the pole. Illyana stepped into Alexi’s field of view, the anger on her face melting into amusement as she looked down at her other captive. Regardless of Savanna’s past, none of this meant anything. Illyana simply wanted to revel in her own daughter’s destruction. If she could only wrap her hands around the evil witch’s throat—
Illyana laughed as Alexi strained futilely against her bonds.
“I’m going to give you one last chance, Illyana,” Alexi grated out. “Let us go, and maybe you live through the night.”
Illyana arched one eyebrow. “Indeed? For a simple human with no magic and no weapons, you seem terribly sure of yourself. Arrogance. So American.” She flicked a hand at Alexi in dismissal and then turned her back on her altogether. She raised her hands to the sky and began to chant.
“How long, Savanna?” Alexi whispered. “How long does it take?”
“A few minutes. But—why did she call you human?”
Alexi shrugged. “Earlier . . . she said her magic told her I wasn’t a vampire.”
“Only humans can be sacrificed for blood magic. The blood of vampires isn’t . . . pure enough.”
Alexi clearly remembered the magic that those men were going to use on her when she woke up beneath the nightclub. It looked an awful lot like the symbols on her now. If Savanna was right, and the magic only worked on humans . . . whatever she was, she wasn’t human. Or at least, she wasn’t only human.
Illyana’s chant swelled with volume and depth. Her voice boomed through the air. Clouds gathered to obscure the moon. Eldritch energy crackled around Illyana’s body. Sparks clashed in the air as she moved. The wards at Alexi’s feet began to glow a soft white light.
Alexi felt something drain away from her. She was near starved already and had nothing left to give. Pressure built in the back of her head, pushing against her eyeballs.
“Savanna, I feel it. I think it’s working.”
Illyana’s voice echoed off the trees into a mighty crescendo. The silence that followed was almost a vacuum in comparison. Alexi’s ears rang with a high-pitched noise that drowned everything else out. Victor walked up to her, Savanna’s dagger in hand. His eyes sought out hers—filled with agony and remorse—and his lips moved, but Alexi couldn’t hear what he said.
Just a little closer . . .
She jerked as the dagger pierced her heart. Her own scream seemed hollow to her. Victor pushed the blade to the hilt, its serrated edge cutting through flesh and scraping against bone. What little strength Alexi had left fled. She sagged against Victor, unable to see or hear. He pulled the dagger from her chest with one hand, and his other came up to cradle her head as if to comfort her as she died. His skin was warm—hot even, beneath the skin of her cheek. Pulsing with blood.
Alexi’s lips parted, pressing her mouth against the hard muscle between Victor’s shoulder and neck. Such soft skin. So warm. All thought fled as her fangs pierce
d his shoulder. Blood welled into her mouth, coppery and tasting almost of pine. The world rushed back in as Victor’s life-giving blood and essence filled her. Wounds healed, and strength flowed to her muscles. Her mind expanded instantly as her body healed. His blood infused her with power. And she craved it. More. More. More! Her heart pounded as her veins filled with stolen blood. Sparks of pleasure blossomed to life in her stomach.
Someone was screaming, but she didn’t understand the words. She couldn’t be bothered to care. Hands yanked her hair. A foot kicked her ribs.
Alexi! Savanna’s voice in her mind cut through the rush of Victor’s fading essence. Alexi, stop! You’re killing him!
Alexi sprang up from the ground. Victor lay prostrate beneath her. She didn’t remember falling.
The pole was shattered into a million pieces behind her. She didn’t remember breaking it or bursting her bonds—pieces of frayed rope were still wrapped around her wrists, and her fingers dripped with Victor’s blood. She wanted to lick them clean.
She looked down at Victor, and the haze of his essence that filled her somehow laid him bare. She felt his shame, his horror at the things he had been made to do, and his relief that it was almost over. His eyes pleaded with her to end him. End the nightmare.
“This is impossible!” Illyana shouted. The witch stood outside the glowing wards.
Alexi threw herself at Illyana, a roar of fury erupting from her throat, and she slammed into . . . air.
The wards, Savanna sent the thought to her. They won’t let anything in or out.
Illyana seized Ringo by his throat and buried her dagger in his chest, starting to chant again.
“Can you undo it?” Alexi turned to Savanna, who stood as though frozen, eyes darting from Illyana to Victor’s dying form. “Savanna! Can you undo it?”
Savanna looked up at her and gave a short nod. She dropped to her knees and placed a hand on Victor’s chest. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered a brief chant and then slammed her hand against the invisible wall of magic. Victor’s blood-spattered and violet energy—the same color as Savanna’s eyes—crackled against the barrier.
Alexi readied herself to charge the moment the wards went down. The walls flared. Savanna fell to one knee, her mouth moving in a silent chant as she clashed with her mother’s will.
Illyana held on to the dagger buried in Ringo’s chest as she flung her own energy at the ward. Brilliant blue arcs of magic crashed against Savanna’s violet ones. Ringo fell to his knees, his skin pale, his eyes rolling up in his head.
I need more blood! Savanna’s voice echoed in her head. I can’t kill him—I’m sorry. I can’t do it. Not ever again.
Alexi couldn’t wait anymore. Illyana still had Demarco to power her wards after Ringo was completely drained. Savanna had only what was left of Victor and her own blood. Even if Alexi opened up Savanna’s veins for her, she would spend herself completely to break the wards. She couldn’t ask the girl to murder one man and then kill herself.
She had to do something.
There has to be some way! What can I get through the barrier? We’re breathing—so air can pass through. Just not people. Or magic. But maybe . . .
“Alexi, I can’t . . .” Savanna fumbled in the dirt, her hand closing around a shard of the shattered pole. She drew the sharp edge across her wrist, and a gout of blood welled up.
The pole.
Illyana laughed as she watched her daughter drain her life to stop her. “Foolish child! After everything I did for you. If you only had your demon then you might survive this. But now—”
She coughed. The magic stuttered and then stopped altogether. The wards flared and died. The witch looked down at her chest, eyes wide. A wooden spike, eight inches long, protruded from beneath her left breast. Alexi hurled a second shard of the shattered pole, piercing the woman’s shoulder, and buried a third in her gut.
Illyana spat blood as she collapsed to one knee and wrenched her dagger from Ringo’s lifeless body. “Demarco!”
The last werewolf scooped her up, his flesh flowed like water and reformed as the Wolf. Illyana grasped on to his fur as he sprinted away, followed by a shower of projectiles. Alexi sent three more of her makeshift wooden darts flying after them. She couldn’t see if she hit, but the howl of anger told her she landed at least one.
***
“Alexi.” Savanna’s voice was little more than a whisper.
Alexi abandoned any thought of chasing Illyana as she turned to find Savanna crumpled to the ground beside Victor. Both of them were in a bad way, but Savanna was the priority. She would just have to hope the big wolf’s constitution could save him.
Kneeling, Alexi acted on pure instinct. Taking Savanna’s arm, she ran her tongue along the wound, and it closed. The bleeding stopped, but she had already lost so much.
“Savanna—”
“Sleep,” Savanna whispered. “I need sleep and a lot of water.” Her head lolled to the side.
Fantastic. I have two half-dead people in the middle of nowhere. Both of them needed medical attention. Illyana hadn’t left much behind, and Alexi doubted the beer in the coolers would help. The keys to the van on the table would certainly prove useful.
She had Savanna strapped into the passenger seat in no time. The girl weighed a buck twenty, sopping wet. Victor, on the other hand . . .
At first, Alexi had considered leaving him there. He’d kidnapped them and done his very best to kill her—a dagger to the heart was as painful as Alexi could have imagined—but something made her pause. Something about the look in his eyes, the way he’d cradled her.
The shame she had felt in his essence—at what he had done and what those actions made him. That resonated with her on a level deeper than she was comfortable with. Regardless, she couldn’t leave him to die. Second chances. That was a thing, right? God, she hoped so.
She heaved Victor over her shoulder by his arm. The blood she stole from him powered her muscles, but his size was still a problem. He was three times as big as her. Most of her effort went to not dropping him on his head as she dragged him to the van. He flopped into the back. She wrestled with his legs, each as thick as a tree. In the end, she held his legs up with one hand and then slid the cargo door shut with the other.
Savanna woke on the road just outside of Tacoma. As Alexi suspected she might, she completely lost it when she caught sight of Victor, who was still asleep in the back of the van.
“What did you want me to do? Just leave him to die?”
“He’s not a dog, Alexi, lost on the side of the road!” Savanna reached out to steady herself on the dashboard, raising one hand to her head as she swayed in her seat. “He’s a frigging werewolf, and he’ll kill us the moment he wakes up.”
“Is your mom still controlling him?”
“Maybe. Probably not, with how hurt she was. But still! He’s a werewolf. We can’t trust him.”
“Savanna, she was controlling him. You of all people should know what she’s capable of. He’s lost everything, just like us. He deserves a second chance.” Shame fueled Alexi’s argument to bring the big wolf with them. She had come within seconds of ending his life. Even now, she felt the thrill of draining him and a little tinge of regret for not finishing him. She pushed those feelings deep, trying to bury them. I’m not a monster. I’m not.
Savanna eventually relented, but Alexi found more resistance from Victor when he finally woke in the parking lot of a Tacoma motel.
“Why didn’t you just end it?” Victor rubbed his face. His eyes looked so weary. So desolate. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
Alexi slipped down to sit next to the big man. Even Savanna’s wary expression softened to one of compassion at the anguish in Victor’s voice. “Listen, I know what you did wasn’t by choice. Illyana was powerful.”
“I have nowhere to go.” Victor shook his head. “My pack—they’re all dead now. Even if Demarco is still alive, he’d kill me himself if he could. I have nothing.”
&nbs
p; “Neither do we,” Alexi said. “Nothing but each other. It’s not much, but we look out for each other. We could look out for you too.” Alexi couldn’t keep the hopeful note from her voice. Why did she need this so badly? It wasn’t just shame, and it wasn’t just . . . pity.
Victor raised his head to meet her eyes. “How could you take me in after everything I’ve done?” His voice betrayed the emotions he struggled to keep in check. So much sadness. Alexi laid a hand on his bare shoulder.
Alexi looked to Savanna. “We all deserve a second chance.”
Savanna looked down at her lap, no doubt thinking of all the things she wished she could erase from her own past. When her head came up, there were tears in her eyes, but a soft smile curved her lips.
NINE
Time for more Advil. Connor nursed his sore arm while he typed in the rest of his notes. The Arcanum-issued laptop beeped that his sync was complete. Monique would have his notes on the unknown vamp when she got back from lunch. Not that there was much to go on. Her and the thrall up and vanished. Though he did add that the ladies down in the magic division reported some funny readings the day after they encountered her. It could be nothing, but Connor was thorough. From here the case went nationwide and out of his hands.
“Yo!” Sing’s voice interrupted him.
“Yeah?”
“Martin is done, bro. He called it.”
For three weeks, they had waited for something to go on. New vampires didn’t just disappear. They racked up a body count. That was one of the reasons the Arcanum needed to find her and stop those murders before they happened.
Martin had almost been the first one. Shattered tibia; six broken teeth; broken cheek, collarbone, and left knee—the list went on. He was still in the hospital and probably had years of physical therapy to look forward to. The good news was that the Arcanum’s medical coverage rocked.
“Well, shit, it’s just the two of us, Sing.”
The Asian man smiled at Connor. “It’s not like we needed a marine. They just get in the way.”
With the Dawn (Faith of the Fallen) Page 7
