A Wicked Night (Creatures of Darkness 2): A Coraline Conwell Novel (35 page)

As suddenly as it had started, the siege was over. Bray had Sara in a chokehold, her feet dangling several feet off the ground. His expression was murderous while she scratched at his grip, thrashing and gasping for air.

Cora caught her breath. “Bray, let her down.”

He looked as though he was ready to snap her neck. As pissed as she was, they needed Saraphine alive and cooperative.

His fangs protruded, bared in a silent snarl. At length, he eased Sara to the floor, letting up in his grip, but only enough so that she could breathe once more.

“Try that again,” Bray warned, “and I’ll have your head.”

Cora had never heard him sound so menacing.

Oddly enough, Trent had remained where he was, hadn’t even moved an inch in her defense. He’d merely watched the scene unfold with seemingly detached interest.

At her look, he stressed, “You said you wanted to handle it.”

Ire mixed in her already fuming brain. She faced Saraphine, who still wore Bray’s thick bicep around her neck.

“I’m not fucking around, Sara,” Cora hissed. “This isn’t a game. A man’s life is at stake.”

“You mean a vampire’s life is at stake,” Saraphine hissed back.

Cora’s brow arched. “You know, don’t you? You know that Mace has been cursed and that he could be dying.”

Saraphine clamped her lips shut, appearing annoyed at her slip.

Outrage stewed with irritation, creating a special blend of fury. Through gritted teeth, she commanded, “You will take me to him now.”

Saraphine stubbornly averted her gaze, setting her jaw.

Patience gone, Cora recognized that spark inside of her flaring to life in a violent conjuring of rage that engulfed her faster than she could anticipate. There was no suppressing it.

A deluge of wild witchcraft bubbled like a carbonated beverage that had been shaken to the point of combustion. Uncontainable and unmanageable, the torrent broke free, manifesting through a glitter of lightning that cocooned her in a warm, crackling embrace. She might have enjoyed it if she wasn’t so terrified of what was about to happen.

Yet this was just a warning of the coming explosion. She had never imagined something so laden, so predominant lived within her. Something so great, she had no idea how she would ever control it.

Trent was visibly uneasy, backing away, but Bray looked upon her with unmarked admiration. Why did he have such trust in her macabre powers?

As if acting on its own authority, the magic swept upward, then out, filling the entire room before landing with a heavy whoosh. The compression ricocheted off the walls, punching the breath from Cora’s lungs.

The hardwood floor rumbled and rippled under her feet, sending her to her knees. The others went down as well.

While they all grappled for breath, discovering the air was precariously lacking oxygen. Small glass trinkets around them shattered at random intervals. Objects tumbled from shelves.

Just as panic readied to set in, the power dissipated to the point where Cora was able to swallow a gulp of life-giving air.

And yet the ground remained unstable.

“Stop it!” Saraphine shouted over the noise. “You’ll bring the entire building down!”

Cora wasn’t sure she
could
stop it. Still, she wasn’t averse to taking advantage of the unexpected leverage. “Take me to Mace!”

“Fine! Just stop destroying my grandmother’s shop!”

Cora glanced around, horrified by the destruction.

The rumbling lasted a moment longer before a tense calm settled over the room. Cora got the sense that the perilous magic had spent on its own, but wouldn’t dare admit to that.

She pushed to her feet and straightened her shoulders, staring expectantly at Saraphine.

Rigid and indignant, Saraphine stood and grudgingly lumbered to the back room with Cora, Bray, and Trent in tow.

“You alright?” she asked Bray.

His arms enveloped her waist as he brought her in for a quick, yet scorching kiss. “You are magnificent.”

Trent studied him with a curious eye, then huffed, “Yeah, right.
Magnificent
. Don’t ever do that again.”

Saraphine crossed to the oversized fireplace where a large caldron hung over a pile of dead coals. She hesitated, then sidled behind the caldron. Her hand reached for something on her left, but it was hidden within the alcove, out of Cora’s sight. The sound of stones grinding against one another drew Cora closer. Within the firebox, the right wall shifted forward, swinging outward to reveal a winding stone staircase.

A hidden passage? Just like in the cottage.

She realized the wars and uprisings over the last hundred years had made these underground rooms more common than she’d realized.

Without a word, Saraphine descended the stairs, disappearing into darkness.

Cloaking her reluctance, Cora trailed after her with Bray and Trent just behind. Though her eyes fought to adjust to the darkness, she could tell the landing was a sold stone floor that matched the windowless walls. Something to her right glowed orange.

The stench of damp earth coupled with rusting metal created a hauntingly familiar stench.

Apprehension itched unpleasantly up her spine. Mentally, she flashed back to the doctor’s laboratory-dungeon and had to battle a wave of choking claustrophobia. Her agitation pushed her back a step. Bray’s strong chest blocked her escape. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she could sense his own unrest.

“They’re here,” he informed her.

She was reminded that vampires could easily see through such darkness.

The rustling of fabric caught her attention.

“Heh,” a roughened, dreary voice sounded from the dark. “Never thought I’d see you again, Coraline.”

Knox!

In the next instant, a brilliant flame ignited from the end of a torch that was nested on the far wall. Next to it, Saraphine extinguished the magic spark in her palm and faced them, almost contrite, but Cora was no longer bothered with her.

Mace lay on his back, unmoving, behind a line of metal bars.

A prison cell.

“Mace!” Cora cried, rushing forward.

Mace didn’t respond. His eyes were closed yet his expression was pained, and the glyphs at his neck were glowing a bright orange whereas before they had been blue and green. Somehow, she didn’t think the change in color boded well for him.

A few feet away, Knox rested against the back wall, his arm slung over one knee. Though his expression projected indifference to his situation, he appeared haggard, and through the bond, weary.

“He’s been out cold for a few days straight,” Knox announced in a scratchy voice. “Probably would have died if I hadn’t—” His squinting gaze snapped to Bray. “Fuck me, I’m still sleeping.” He jerked his chin back at Cora. “This is about the time you start stripping.”

Cora ignored him for the moment. “Saraphine, you open this cage right now!”

Saraphine’s lips thinned into a stubborn line. She crossed her arms. “Knox stays till my coven can assemble his trial.”

Even if Cora was all for that plan, there was no way Trent would allow it. Frustrated, she gripped the cell door and shook it. Metal clanged just before a powerful blast of magic sent shock waves along her arms, skewering her flesh. She ripped away in pain and glanced down. There was no visible damage. Yet an echo of pain lingered.

Saraphine’s lips curved in a triumphant smile. “It’s protected by my magic. Anyone who tries to open that door will be filled with a thousand volts of mystical electricity, and the longer you try, the stronger it gets. And…” she added quickly as Trent advanced on her, “if I die, you’ll never be able to get them out. The spell will seal forever.”

Trent halted, glowering, yet clearly plotting his next move. “There are things worse than death, girl. And all of them will prompt you to open this door.”

Trepidation cracked a bit of Saraphine’s bold visage.

Cora jumped in, “Sara, don’t be so stubborn. I’ve promised you that if Knox is guilty, he will pay. I’ll hold true to that, so would Mace, but I’m not leaving here without
both
of them.”

Mace needed her most of all—was more important by far—but so did Knox. She felt it in her soul…through the bond. So strongly that she was unable to deny it, even mentally. She wouldn’t entertain the idea of leaving him here in this dank dungeon, perpetually hungry, suffering.

As she and Bray had suffered.

Plus, there was an irrefutable awareness creeping over her scalp. Something buried deep within her that was forcing itself to the forefront. Something that felt more animal than human.

Knox is mine
.

Cora slapped the thought from her mind. They were bonded, he need her blood, nothing more. She wanted to help him because he saved her life once. That wall all.

Unfortunately, Saraphine had made up her mind. By the angle of her upturned jaw, it really would take a monstrous session with Trent to persuade her.

As options go, that course of action would haunt Cora forever.

Perhaps there was another way.

Decidedly, Cora turned toward the cell door and warned Bray and Trent, “You should probably stand back.”

She didn’t know if this would work. She just hoped her magic measured up to Saraphine’s, and that she could hold out.

This couldn’t be worse than the doctor’s torturous injections, could it? Or the elixir used to unbind her magic.

Mustering all her nerve, she gripped the bars and began the same incantation she’d used on her and Bray’s ropes.

Instantly, Saraphine’s spell rebelled. Pain sliced up Cora’s arms.

It did nothing to dissuade her. Her voice rang loud with the words she hoped would disintegrate the bars.

In defense, the pain intensified, licking up her arms to her collarbone. An electrical charge seemed to wrap around her neck as though she were wearing a live wire. Invisible fire found the tips of her fingers, her palms, straight to her very bones. The sensation of flesh peeling away from her fingers made her gasp and almost pulled her hands away. The falter was only slight. She worked to keep her voice strong and steady.

Again Saraphine’s magic fought back. A mighty voltage snaked out like a whip.

Crack.

Agony constricted her throat. Through gritted teeth, she choked out the next phrase of the incantation.

Crack.

Hell’s fire ignited in her chest. She worked to suck in a cooling breath.

Crack.

Boiling heat landed in her gut like a vat of acid.

“Stop this!” Bray was yelling at Saraphine, or at Cora. She couldn’t tell which. She hoped he didn’t harm Saraphine, but she couldn’t worry about that now. A tiny pinprick of corrosion appeared above her left hand. That minuscule evidence set her resolve. With each new whip of pain, she cried out another word.

Crack.

Her bones felt like glass, especially her hands. The slightest misstep would shatter her. The smell of rust plumed alongside burning flesh. A rumbling noise drowned out Bray’s harrowing bellows. An echo of metal groaning reverberated through Cora’s ears. Her voice was raw, yet unrelenting. Now it was as if the incantation was being ripped from her by force. She couldn’t stop it if she tried.

Crack.

The inscrutable lashing continued deep under her flesh, slicing through muscle to find every nerve ending in her body. Her magic flowed out in the form of a scream, agonized and frayed. Knuckles white, she clutched the bars, digging her fingers in.

Amazingly, the metal gave an inch, degenerating at a molecular level. She could almost see the atoms breaking apart, was fascinated by the brilliant colors of destruction.

A thin red fissure fracture the bar in her right hand, danced upward inch by inch, then split into a web. Another small crack found the left bar.

Then, as if from the inside out, the bars abruptly exploded.

Cora dropped to her knees.

A find dust wafted out to the edges of the room. Tiny flakes of metal shimmered to the ground.

Hunched, she drew in heavy breaths. For the first time, she noticed a layer of cool sweat along her forehead. She swiped at it with the back of her hand and turned to face everyone.

They all gaped, incredulous.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Saraphine gasped.

Though Cora’s body ached in every way possible, she made a show of strength by pulling herself to stand. Then she crossed the threshold of the cage and managed to keep from stumbling as she made her way to Mace.

Kneeling, she gently cupped his cheek. She had no idea what the curse was doing to him. Was he was feeling even a hint of the pain she’d just experienced? With any luck, he was merely unconscious, oblivious. Yet his agonized expression said otherwise.

Angling her wrist by his lips, she jimmied his mouth open and used his fangs to puncture her own skin, then watch as her blood coated his mouth.

A perception of overwhelming hunger sieged her from behind. She turned to see Knox on his feet behind her, riveted by the sight of her blood, his fangs bared.

She pointed a ridged finger at him. “Later for you.”

He glared, both shocked and indignant. At first she though he would do what Knox does best and just take what he wanted, but instead, he slanted a dark gaze at Saraphine. Vengeance leaked off him like bad cologne.

“Bray,” Cora rasped. “Protect Sara.”

Saraphine’s eyes widened in horror as if she suddenly realized the magnitude of her situation.

Bray dutifully fronted her like a muscle-packed shield.

Knox shot Cora another irritated look, then stepped out of the cell to address Bray. “You taking orders from a witch now?”

“I owe her my life,” Bray fired back, “and I’ve come to trust her judgment. Have you forgotten I’ve been MIA?”

“No,” Knox grumbled. “Just don’t care. I’ve got my own problems. Both of which are in this room.”

Saraphine brazenly stepped out from behind Bray. “Touch me and I’ll hex your private parts with seeping boils.” Magic gathered in her palms at the threat.

Knox clenched his fists. “I’d drop you before you could utter a word.”

“You’ll not come near the girl,” Bray promised.

Knox went quiet, studying Bray. Then he glanced back at Cora in blatant accusation. “You bonded him?”

Cora frowned and turned away.
Here it comes.
She braced for a slandering diatribe. Instead, Knox began to chuckle. After a moment, his chuckle turned into an all-out laugh which then morphed in to a side-splitting guffaw.

He huffed through his laughter, “I can’t wait to hear how you’re going to play this one off.”

“We’ll explain things later,” Bray said, coming to her rescue.

“Oh, will you? Will you explain things later?”

“Stow it, Knox,” Trent snapped. “We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise you.”

“Oh, come on, Trent. Isn’t it time to put an end to this madness?” There was a dangerous undertone to his words.

The rest of the conversation was drown out when Mace, still mostly unconscious, latched onto Cora’s wrist like a man dying of thirst might a water pump. Elation, along with tingling warmth, slammed through her.

“That’s it, Mace,” she cooed. “Drink.”

Whether he could comprehend her or not, he did just that, taking her essence into him. The act was as familiar as breathing. And when she felt herself growing weak, she allowed him to continue a few pulls longer.

Finally, his eyes cracked open. He gazed up at her blearily, and released her. “Cora?” His voice sounded awful.

She wiped his mouth with the hem of her borrowed dress. “Hi,” she choked out, caging the brunt of her emotions. Yet grateful tears still breached her lids.

“I dreamed of you,” he said.

She leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I dreamed of you too.”

“You were looking for me. You called out for me. It felt so real.”

She stilled. She had relentlessly tried to enter the dream realm for him. Was that what he spoke of? Had she been so close to making contact?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner,” she said.

“Am I dreaming now?”

“No,” she smiled. “I’m here to take you home. Are you strong enough to stand?”

He tested his limbs. It was clear in his expression that it pained him to move. After a brief hesitation, he rolled to his side, then painstakingly pushed off the ground. Cora stood with him, cautiously holding her arms out, even though if he were to fall, she could in no way support him.

“Trent,” she called. “A little help.”

Trent dubiously eyed the cell, then ordered Knox to go in his stead.

Knox grimaced, but returned to the cell and propped himself against Mace. “Come on, you rutty tosser. Stop milking it.”

Once they were out of the cell, Trent took Mace’s other side and together, they started up the stairs, their progress slow and unsteady while Mace struggled to find his feet.

As a small weight lifted off Cora’s shoulder, another took its place. After they’d gone, she faced Saraphine. “I need your help removing this curse from Mace.”

Saraphine was still marveling at the remnants of her spell—a dying patch of sparkles along the ground—but Cora’s words snapped her out of it. “I’ve done enough helping you.”

“I know,” Cora sighed, letting her weary shoulders drop. “I know you have. But please. I can’t do this without you. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I understand why you did what you did.” She gestured to the ruined cell. “Even as angry as I am about it, I get it. But Mace has never done anything to you, and he’s suffering. He’s…dying.”

Saraphine averted her gaze.

“Your grandmother, she could see the future, is that correct?”

Saraphine shrugged noncommittally.

“She placed a protection spell on Mace, right? And I suspect that’s the only thing keeping him alive now.”

Examining her shoes, Saraphine gave another half shrug, which was confirmation enough.

“If nothing else, I ask that you trust your grandmother’s judgment. She chose to protect Mace for a reason. Don’t you want to find out why?” Cora knew she had her, could see curiosity blooming over her face.