Blue-Blooded Vamp (21 page)

“Get ready.”

“Is everything okay? You sound pissed.”

“No time. Just be ready to rock ’n’ roll.” My left shoulder burned like I’d pulled a muscle. I massaged the stiffness, but it didn’t dissipate. If anything, it throbbed hotter.

“Always. Watch your ass, magepire.”

“Always,” I echoed. “Okay, I’m leaving the call connected but putting the phone in my pocket. Listen up for the signal.”

I shoved the phone into my pocket, careful not to disconnect the call. I’d reached the obelisk now. Young children sat on the backs of the stone lions and splashed in the water that came from the statues’ mouths.

And not ten feet from all the innocence stood the inventor of murder—Cain, aka Master Mahan, aka He Who Kills to Get Gain.

I stopped ten feet away. My features were passive but inside, my stomach roiled like it was filled with serpents. The last time I’d been this close to Cain, he was killing my twin.

Though not a large male, he seemed to take up the whole space. He was dressed in street clothes—jeans, a button-down, and loafers. But the modern clothes didn’t reduce the magnetism, the wild, untamed energy coming off him. He had the kind of face sculptors dreamed of and the lithe body of a predator. High cheekbones, full lips, honeyed olive skin. His emerald-green eyes promised sin.

And by sin, I of course meant ritualized, sadistic murder.

“
Cara mia
,” Cain drawled. He leaned back against the shaft of the obelisk. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed. “Welcome to the party.” He stepped down to my level, his movements predatory, like a jungle cat. He tipped his chin down like some sort of signal.

A dozen beings wearing red devil’s masks emerged from the crowd and circled us. Their crushing presence closed in, blocking me and Cain from mortal eyes. The effect was… intimidating. But I stayed calm.

After all, I had a demon up my sleeve.

I could have sat there and exchanged clever banter with the deranged killer. But this wasn’t some fucking movie and I wasn’t about to miss my opportunity to take the upper hand. “Now, Gi—”

Pain exploded in my back. Like a steel fist punching through muscle and bone. The impact and the searing pain threw me to my knees. My gun skittered away, lost among a sea of feet. I choked on the bile and fear rising in my throat.

Ignoring the hot convulsions in my back, I pushed myself off the ground until my ass was resting on my heels. With great effort, I leveraged myself upright. I wanted to be looking directly into Cain’s eyes when I said my next words. “Applewood stakes can’t kill me.”

Cain’s seductive mouth spread into a lopsided grin. “It’s not applewood.”

“Then why—” I cut myself off. The loss of blood and the pain had addled my brains for a moment. I was wasting valuable time. It didn’t matter what weapon he’d used. It was time to fire back with one of my own.

I screamed, “Now, Giguhl!”

Nothing happened.

Cain clucked his tongue. “Magic not working?”

I ignored him and tamped down the rise of panic. Scrambling, I pulled the phone from my pocket and yelled, “Giguhl get your ass here now!”

“Red?” Giguhl’s muted shout came through the receiver.

“Sabina, darling, save your breath,” Cain said. “Your demon friend’s not coming.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What did you do?”

Giguhl screamed now, demanding I talk to him, but I didn’t have time to allay his fears. Especially when they
were so well deserved. Something was really fucking wrong.

Cain pointed to my shoulder. “If you’d have let me explain before, I would have told you that stake in your back isn’t applewood.” He leaned forward and whispered like we were conspirators instead of enemies. “It’s brass.”

Gravity tripled, the force sucking every ounce of blood from my face. It weighed down my muscles with a sensation that felt a lot like defeat. With the brass embedded in my back, I couldn’t use any sort of magic.

Cain came forward and took the phone from my limp grasp. “So sorry, Sabina’s busy right now.” A pause. “What’s that? Well”—Cain laughed—“I look forward to seeing you attempt that. Good-bye now.” He punched the
END
button and slipped the phone into his pocket.

The movement made the light dance off a polished brass cuff on his wrist. Looked like Mr. Immortal was worried about getting hit with another one of Zen’s vexing spells. Unfortunately, the ones that remained were with Adam.

The air tightened and static rushed up my arms. Someone was gathering a massive amount of magical energy nearby. I looked around and finally spied Adam on the stage across the square. The fireworks highlighted the determination on his handsome face.

He was smart to position himself so far away. The range wasn’t too great to prevent him from delivering potent spells, but it was far enough away that the vampires and werewolves among Cain’s goons wouldn’t be able to do anything but duck and cover when the spells came.

Cain had noticed Adam, too. “Get ready. Her lover”—he spat the word out like a curse—“is about to make a romantic but futile gesture.”

Cain’s tone was unconcerned. So carefree I knew right
then he had some more tricks up his sleeve. Namely, the three mages who stepped forward from the circle. I could feel their powers rising like a deep throbbing bass. Adam was an excellent fighter and a strong mage. But Cain had an irrational hatred for the mancy that would ensure his death was a priority in this exercise.

Not a fucking option. Time to cut a deal.

“Stop!” I yelled. “I’ll go with you.”

Cain laughed. “Yes, I know. You don’t have a choice.”

“No,” I said, my tone desperate. “I’ll go with you if you leave him alone.”

Cain sighed. “Sabina, your weakness where the mage is concerned is pitiful. You’re in no position to make demands.”

The brass might have dampened my magic, but my vampire blood had already done quick work on the worst of my pain. “Oh, really?” I spun and clocked one of Cain’s vampires in the face. While he reeled from the impact, I swiped his gun from his hand. I rounded on Cain. He looked mildly shocked but not exactly alarmed.

“The gun will do you no good, Lamashtu,” he said, using the pet name he used for Lilith. For some reason, in his fucked up head, he got confused between the Great Mother and me.

Holding his gaze, I slowly lifted the gun to my temple. “Call them off or I pull the trigger,”

Cain’s eyes narrowed at the cold steel in my voice.

Behind him, I saw Adam freeze on the stage. From his higher vantage point, he could see what was happening. His mouth opened wide as he yelled. That strong, powerful body was already in motion as he made to jump from the stage.

Cain watched me for a few tense heartbeats, as if trying to decide if I loved Adam enough to die for him. “You’re bluffing.”

Adam rematerialized on the far side of the obelisk, clearly planning on attacking, audience or no. Do or die time.

“Want to fucking bet?”

I cocked the hammer.

He paused and tilted his head. His eyes on me, he said to his goons, “It’s time to change the location of our little soiree. Three of you stay behind and kill her lover.”

“Yes, sir,” said three of the goons, and broke off to go after Adam. The rest of Cain’s men pressed in around Cain and me.

Overhead, the fireworks display was reaching its climax. I looked up at the kaleidoscope of color and heat. As I watched, the colors morphed and distorted, indicating that Cain’s mages had opened the doorway that allowed mages to travel interspatially.

“Sabina!” Adam’s tortured cry reached me.

“Say good-bye to your love, Sabina,” Cain breathed into my ear. He pulled me close to his body, but I didn’t fight him. My only goal was to get him as far away from Adam as possible. I knew once Cain and I disappeared, Adam wouldn’t hang out to engage with the goons. He’d flash out and go find Giguhl so they could rescue me.

I looked up and met Adam’s eyes over the heads of the crowd separating us.
Run!
I mouthed.

A split second later, the vortex sucked my body into the void.

I
’d thought the aboveground Cities of the Dead in New Orleans were impressive, but the catacombs of Rome made those look like elaborate stage sets.

“Welcome to the Catacombs of Saint Domitilla,” Cain said conversationally. Like he was leading a fucking tour group instead of a dark races death squad.

We had gained access to the underground tunnels through a sunken fourth-century basilica—another factoid Cain had shared. One of his people held a large flashlight since it was night and they didn’t want to risk illuminating the lights installed for catacomb tours. Its beam flashed off high stone walls, tall columns, an altar, and artifacts along the walls of the church. Cain led us to an arched doorway that led down into the underground tunnels. The opening gaped like a mouth, ready to swallow us into the bowels of the underworld.

Even before we entered the catacombs proper, I could feel the tug of death magic on my diaphragm. Whispers echoed from the dark portal, inviting me to listen to their stories. The back of my neck prickled and a fine sheen of sweat coated my chest, despite the clammy air.

Unlike the crypt Tristan led me to a couple nights earlier, with its intricate designs made from skeletons, these catacombs were virtually bone-free. Despite the lack of remains, the death energy hit me with the force of a sledgehammer.

I swayed into the vampire that held my right arm. “Give me a minute,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

I concentrated on breathing slowly through my nose to slow my galloping pulse. The pressure of the energy came at me from all sides, and my Chthonic powers struggled to absorb the force in my solar plexus. The effect was something like going hundreds of feet below the sea very quickly. It took my body time to adjust to equalize the opposing forces. Because of the brass spike in my back, I couldn’t use the magic, but it wouldn’t hurt to stockpile some of the energy in case an opportunity presented itself.

The vampire grew impatient and shoved me forward. “Keep walking, bitch.”

Cain swung around and backhanded the male. “Show some respect!”

I shied back from the wild expression on Cain’s face. Angry I could handle, but crazy was unpredictable and far more dangerous than rage.

“I… I’m sorry, Master Mahan,” the vampire simpered, using the name Cain’s cult, the Caste of Nod, used for him. “I assumed since she was a prisoner—”

“Sabina is not a prisoner. She is a guest. You will treat her as such.”

“Yes, master.”

I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t the right time to point out that people usually didn’t stab their guests in the back and then force them into creepy catacombs.

Speaking of being stabbed, the wound around the brass stake felt hot and achy. Most likely, my vampire blood was
knitting the skin around the blade in a futile effort to heal the wound.

As we’d walked through the tunnels, I’d tried to use my free hand to reach the spike, but I couldn’t do it without some serious contortion. Since I couldn’t remove the brass, I decided to fill up on intel. “Hey, Cain?”

He’d started walking again and didn’t turn to look at me when he replied. “Yes?”

“How far is this place?”

“Not far now, my dove.”

I gritted my teeth against the endearment. “I’m surprised all this is down here.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. I tried to keep my expression innocent and interested. It must have worked because he started waxing poetic about the macabre setting.

“Yes, it’s remarkable, isn’t it?” He fingered a chipped fresco set between two niches. “There are hundreds of kilometers of catacombs all over the Roman countryside. Did you know that?”

I shook my head. “That’s amazing.” It was, but not because I was interested in ancient history. I wanted to know about escape routes. “How long are the ones we’re in?”

Cain pursed his lips. “I believe these are seventeen kilometers, spread out over four levels. More than one hundred fifty thousand mortals were buried here.” He took a deep inhale of the dank air. “Can you smell it? All the death. It’s invigorating.”

“I’ll say.” Cain had made a colossal mistake choosing this place as the spot for our confrontation. Chthonic magic is basically earth and death magic, so, once unleashed, my powers would thrive in this playground. That was, if I could get the fucking spike out first.

The long walk gave me time to adjust to the onslaught of powers. It also gave me some time to get used to the claustrophobic layout, with its low ceilings and narrow passages lined with niches carved in rock.

The farther we got, the quieter Cain and his acolytes grew. The quieter they got, the wetter my palms grew.

It was one thing to distract myself with fantasies of escape, but deep down I knew I couldn’t defeat them on my own. Cain had planned this too well. He’d beaten me at my own game and now he’d make good on his promises. The chance of the cavalry finding me was a joke. With the brass in my back, they couldn’t track any sort of magical trail. It’d take more than one of Adam’s miracles to make this turn out all right.