Blood Wyne (37 page)

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Authors: Yasmine Galenorn

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Blood Wyne
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“Maybe this isn’t the work of Charles. Maybe he’s just taking advantage of it? He might have stumbled on this—and I think I know who did this. Or at least, I have a general idea. I doubt they even know he exists.”
“They who?”
I stared over at Wade. We hadn’t told him about Shadow Wing; we hadn’t told him about any aspect of the demon war. So he wouldn’t know about the Demon Underground, either. Debating whether to say anything without first talking to Delilah and Camille, I opted for caution’s sake. Wade and I were friends again, but he’d have to prove himself before I could trust him again.
“I can’t tell you that right now . . . you’ll have to wait for later and trust me, you’ll understand why. But I am going to tell you this: Be very careful down here. Go after Charles only. Forget everything else you see—it’s in your own best interests. There are powers far, far greater than you or me at work, and though I can’t talk about them, I need you to obey me on this.”
He considered my words. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. I’ll take your word for it now, but I want to know everything when we get out of this.
If
we get out of this.”
“Leave the lanterns . . . we are not freeing these creatures. Now, let’s go.” And off we went again, weaving our way through the cavern.
The cave dropped off to the right into a darkened abyss, and we skirted the edge with care, working our way back to the center.
Limestone flowed down from the ceiling, forming a thick column of stalagmites and stalactites, a statuary of twisted flowstone. In the center of the falls, an opening allowed dripping water from the ceiling to trickle down, falling into the hollowed-out rimstone pool, where the mineralized liquid slowly ate away at the floor, creating the basin. Fortified by the continual drip, the walls had slowly built up over the centuries; now they were ornamented with amorphous, bulging pillows, looking for all the world like fossilized cauliflower.
As we worked our way through the cave, skirting delicate stalactites and stalagmites, we followed the trail that Charles had worn in the dust. Vampires were light on their feet, but he was still new and hadn’t learned to lessen his presence.
The light from the demon lamps reverberated from wall to wall, creating flickering shadows that looked like creatures creeping alongside us, and now that I knew the lights were imprisoned spirits, my stomach twisted. What if they got out? What if their caretakers were near? What if we were caught down here without Carter or Vanzir to vouch for us?
We skirted the central sculpture and found ourselves on the other side of the cavern. To our left was another drop-off; to our right, another passage. I edged my way up to the overlook and peeked over the edge. A sheer black drop. I held the flashlight over the edge but the light barely penetrated ten feet down.
Wade crouched beside me. He picked up a small pebble and dropped it and we listened, waiting to hear it bounce against the bottom, but there was no sound—not even a faint
thunk
—and I glanced up at him.
“We do not want to go over. Not without some damned good ropes and lights.” I slowly backed away and Wade followed me. We wended our way through the narrow passage to the back of the cavern. The scent of blood led us, and as we slipped through the tunnel, I noticed patches of green viro-mortis slime dappling the limestone walls. I motioned to them.
“Do not let them touch you. We’re vampires, so they can’t hurt us too bad, but they’re fucking nasty and you don’t want to get them on anybody who’s still alive. And if you see a purple variety, avoid them at all costs. Those
can
hurt us.”
He nodded, turning sideways to slip along behind me.
The passage ran along for about fifteen feet before ending at a fork. Wade, who was hungrier than I was, could smell the blood more easily. He motioned to the right and we turned. Another five feet found us standing at another opening. Peeking through, we could see the standard old-school setup.
A coffin sat in the corner—and it was a nice one. There was a recliner next to it, a battery-powered light, and a small bookcase overflowing with books. Then I noticed that the walls of the chamber were brick. We were looking into another section of Underground Seattle, also adjacent to the hidden cavern. It looked like someone had broken through the brick to get into the cavern. I had no idea whether Charles Shalimar or the Demon Underground had been responsible for discovering the connection.
As I entered, slowly, I could see that the coffin was empty. Shit. Were we going to be chasing him to the ends of the Earth? What the fuck was he doing running around? He couldn’t have
that
many errands. Then I saw the bloody clothes on the floor and motioned for Wade to stay where he was.
I slipped over to the opposite door and peeked out.
Bingo.
Another chamber, with yet another exit leading out into what was doubtless one of the Underground tunnels. This room was lit by more of the demon lamps. And in the center of the chamber, a tub, filled with steaming water. Nearby, what looked like a jury-rigged pipe led down to the bath. Charles had been siphoning off somebody’s water system, it looked like.
In the tub was our man. Charles was washing—totally focused on scrubbing the blood off him. He was an older man, in his sixties, it looked, but he was well built and he would have his vampire strength.
I decided that it was better to ask questions later, and slowly slid one of the stakes out of my belt. As I crept closer—I didn’t want to chance throwing it and missing, warning him in the process—Wade eased his pack down. But we weren’t dealing with just any ordinary killer.
Charles was a vampire and he had the same acute hearing we did. He leaped up, out of the tub, his body wet and slick from the water. Although he was naked, I felt an icy chill race through me. He was a psychopath, he was a vampire, and he had no remorse for what he was doing.
“Charles—listen to me. Give it up. Now. You let us take you in and we’ll make sure you get help.” I was lying, of course—I fully intended to take him out. This wasn’t any ordinary murderer whom you could toss in jail and forget, letting him rot. A vampire serial killer was far too dangerous. We had to take him out, to dust him.
Charles glanced at me, looking mildly confused. “You know my name.”
“We know all about you. We know you were a priest, and that you were turned into a vampire.”
Another shift of the head, another start of surprise.
“Go away.” He raised his hand, as if shielding his eyes from my gaze. I could see the conflicting emotions race across his face. Guilt, anger, rage, hunger, all tied together. Oh yeah, Charles wasn’t playing with a full deck, that was for sure. In the blink of an eye, he’d grabbed his jeans and slid into them. I winced. They were covered with dried blood. Apparently he washed his body to remove the sin of his actions, but he conveniently forgot to clean his garments.
“Charles. You have no choice. You can’t run because we’ll hunt you down. Come quietly and we can get you some help.” Wade entered the room behind me. “You know you feel bad about those women—”
“No! They were whores, Jezebels. They were evil, tempting women and the only way I could save their souls was to cleanse them.” His voice was querulous and tinged with argument.
“Charles, you are aware you’re a vampire now?” I didn’t want to overlook the obvious. Since some ghosts weren’t aware they’d died, maybe in the break that happened to his psyche, he’d lost track of the fact that he was a vamp.
“I am their savior. I am here to wipe the world clean of harlots and sinners. I am the sword of blood and justice. My God has forsaken me, but I will find myself in his graces again when I have cleansed the Earth for him.”
Oh, delightful. Not only was he a psychopath, but he had a martyr complex, too. Just what we needed.
“Charles, please—if you are the sword of justice, then hear us out.”
“You are spawn of the devil. I know what you are! You are like Jezebel, the beauty who would have tempted me. I fell . . . my God, I fell.” Tears began to streak down his cheeks. “I wanted to touch her—it was so hard, so very hard. I tried to resist, but she lured me in and I couldn’t stay away from her.”
His sire had used her glamour to reel the priest in. No wonder he was so guilt-ridden. He must have been true to his post, but no FBH could withstand the lure of a vampire. Especially if she was older.
Charles took a step back and reached for something. I gauged whether I had a clear shot of his chest, but he was aware enough to keep his body turned just so that if I threw my stake, it would lodge in his arm. And that wouldn’t slow him down.
I motioned for Wade to begin edging toward the other door. We didn’t want him escaping again. Wade nodded and Charles glared at him as he clasped whatever it was he had picked up. I prayed it wasn’t a stake-shooting gun that some FBH fanatic had worked up. We’d heard tales of a few lately, using the same technology as a spear gun to shoot wooden stakes.
But when he opened his hand to show me what he was holding, my fear factor jumped off the scale.
“Charles—put that down. We can talk. If you are the new savior, then you really don’t want to use that.”
“It won’t hurt me. I’m
immortal
. I’m
invincible
. I cannot be killed.” And every word he said was filled with self-confidence. Charles really didn’t think he could be killed. And he was holding what looked to be a live grenade.
CHAPTER 22
 
 
“He’s got a grenade!” I frantically motioned for Wade to stop. He quickly took in the situation and changed course.
Grenades and explosions, though not a guaranteed death, could do a great deal of damage. Some, if powerful enough, could put an end to a vampire. This was a small space, enclosed, and the explosion would be devastating. Not to mention that it might bring down the entire tunnel system around here.
“You don’t want to do that.” Wade’s voice was even. He steadily moved toward the vampire, one small step at a time. “Put the grenade down and we can talk. If you are the new savior, then maybe we can help you.”
Charles slowly shook his head. “You want to stop me—the spirits told me. They told me you’re the spawn of the devil, that you’re not anointed by the blood of the Lamb.”
I stared at him. He’d lost it and there was no coming back. The only thing we could hope for was to get the grenade away from him intact, because no matter what, we couldn’t let him escape again. A vampire with a martyr complex on the loose:
Not Good.
A vampire with a martyr complex on the loose with a live grenade:
Very Bad.
With a glance at Wade, I slowly began to move in. Playing along wasn’t working. It was time to be straight.
“Charles, listen to me. You aren’t a savior. You aren’t the sword of God. You’re a vampire—you were a priest and a vampire killed you and turned you. She should not have done that. She was wrong and I’m so sorry. But now, you’re killing innocent women to get back at her. Can’t you see how twisted your logic is—” I stopped. Wade was frantically shaking his head at me.
“You’re wrong. I’ll prove you are.
I am immortal!
” And Charles pulled the pin.
“Run!” Wade dashed toward the cavern and I followed suit. We managed to clear our way through the short passage into the one leading back into the cavern when the explosion rocked the area. Smoke billowed from behind us as the Earth shook and the sound of rocks crashing to the ground echoed around us.
Living surround sound.
I covered my head and suddenly Wade was leaning over me, trying to protect me from the falling debris.
The passage we were in reverberated with heavy rock fall as dust filled the air. Grateful neither of us needed to breathe, I waited until only a trickle of pebbles echoed through the passage.
As Wade slowly crawled off me, another slide of rocks echoed from somewhere up ahead. I gingerly pushed myself to my feet and felt for my flashlight, which I’d hooked to my belt loop.
I flipped it on to find a cloud of dust flickering in the thin yellow beam. Squinting, I tried to see through the settling debris.
Damn.
Our way back into the cavern was blocked by thousands of pounds of debris. The tunnel had broken down near the entrance, and even as I pressed against the rocks, I knew it was futile. We might manage to clear our way out—after all, we could go a long time without blood and we didn’t need air—but it would take an awfully long time to get out from this direction.

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