Duet in Blood (22 page)

“The gladius,” Joseph said, holding out his hand. Magically, a short wide-bladed sword appeared in his hand.

“Angelo?”

“A silver javelin,” he rasped, and he too was immediately armed with his weapon of choice.

I didn’t like this. A javelin against a sword—a long, stabbing or throwing spear against a short, have-to-get-close-to-use-it sword seemed to me to be bad odds. Joseph sliced the air several times, weighing the sword and getting the feel of its balance. It sure looked like he knew what he was doing.

Everyone spread out in a giant circle, the two combatants facing off in the middle. My heart pounded so hard, I was sure everyone in the room could hear it drumming. I felt sick to my stomach. What if he didn’t come out of this alive? Oh, dear God. Wait, do vampires believe in God?

“Why a silver javelin?” I asked Roger.

“An ordinary spear would only slow Joseph down,” he explained. “But a silver one could kill him—if he gets hit.”

I flinched as Angelo brought the javelin up to his shoulder and threw it straight at Joseph’s heart. I almost screamed with delight as Joseph’s sword deflected the spear and sent it soaring into the air.

Yeah…what now, Angelo?
I gaped as the javelin appeared back in his hand. I knew it! I knew that creep wouldn’t fight fair.

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“Don’t worry,” Marcus murmured, close to my ear. “Joseph would have given him

back his weapon anyway.”

Of course, he would. Gentleman Joseph. Rules of conduct, even in vampire worlds.

Now Angelo was keeping Joseph at bay, holding his spear in front of him, making short stabbing thrusts aimed at Joseph’s torso. A fine layer of perspiration covered Joseph’s smooth skin, and the muscles in his thighs and calves rippled as he stood, balanced on his toes, poised to strike should Angelo reveal any weakness. It was hard to say if they were equally matched.

Joseph was all style, a trained swordsman, while Angelo appeared clumsy, moving

with awkward steps, swiping his spear from side to side, trying to drive back Joseph. I had a feeling though, that this was part of Angelo’s ruse…to look like he didn’t know what he was doing. I prayed Joseph wouldn’t be fooled by it.

Now Joseph went on the attack, his sword cutting close to Angelo’s body, causing the demon to stumble backwards and almost fall. He yelled out stream of words in some strange language that I didn’t need a translator for. ‘Fuck you’ is the same in any language. Joseph pressed his attack, driving Angelo across the Great Hall, until he backed into Jean-Claude who pushed him away, almost into Joseph’s arms. Angelo screamed with rage, ran a few steps, turned and threw his javelin. It struck Joseph in the shoulder, and I started towards him as I saw the stunned look on his face.

Marcus grabbed my arm. “You cannot help him,” he said through gritted teeth. “He must do this alone.”

“But the spear—”

“The silver will drain his strength, but he must not have help from any of us.”

I shot him an angry look. “So, you’ll just stand by and watch him die?”

Marcus held my eyes in a steady gaze. “Micah, Joseph knows what he must do. If we interfere, Angelo will win and all will be lost. I know your heart is with Joseph, as are ours.”

Roger put his arm round my shoulders and pulled me close. “Joseph’s the man,” he whispered. “He won’t go down easy.”

Fine, but what about now? I thought, watching Joseph try to pull the javelin from his shoulder. I saw the agony in his eyes, and I felt it along with him.
Oh, Joseph…I love you. You
must live! You promised we’d go to Paris, together!

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He turned and stared at me for a moment, then with a mighty tug, he pulled the javelin free, hefted it into his right hand and threw it straight at Angelo’s heart. It would have been the demon’s end if he hadn’t used magic to deflect the javelin and send it spinning into his own hand.

“Bastard,” I yelled. “You cheating bastard!”

Angelo’s eyes glowed with an unearthly burning light as he hurled the javelin at Joseph with all his power. I closed my eyes, unable to see it strike my man. I opened them again really fast as I heard the gasp of shock from everyone around me. The javelin was poised in mid-air, an inch from Joseph’s chest, and hung there still vibrating from the powerful throw.

“We said no magic!” The hideous scraping voice of the taller wraith now made even more hideous by his anger resonated around the Great Hall. The javelin fell to the ground with a loud clang. “Joseph, you are the winner of this combat. Angelo, you will approach us.”

I ran to meet Joseph as he slowly walked towards us, his hand pressed to the wound in his shoulder. Why hadn’t it already healed? I wondered. Didn’t vampires always heal quickly?

“The silver in the javelin has stopped the wound from closing,” he said, answering my unasked question. He looked paler than usual, and I looked to Marcus for help.

“Damn you both!” Angelo screeched, gesturing wildly. A ball of fire appeared in his hands, and he threw it at the two wraiths. It exploded in front of them, sending chunks of stone and clouds of billowing smoke everywhere. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, the vampires scattered, gathering around us to watch what must surely be the end of Angelo.

But when the smoke cleared, the wraiths were gone, and Angelo screamed in triumph, wrapping his scarlet cloak around him, hiding this disfigured wiener from us. “Now, vampires, you will all die. Your protectors have fled, leaving you at my mercy—of which, I have none! I will remove the cloud that obscures the sun, and you, Marcus, and you, Joseph will be the first—”

He broke off, his mouth sagging with dismay as the wraiths reappeared—only this

time, they had company, lots of company. I counted at least twelve of them, hovering near Angelo in all their sinister murkiness.

“My…my lords…” Angelo threw himself down on the ground in front of them.

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“Don’t think that’s gonna work this time,” Roger muttered.

“Stand Angelo and accept your punishment.” The wraith that spoke moved closer to the terrified demon. He struggled to his feet, shaking with fear. But even then, he was not to be trusted. A quick movement of his hand, and a surge of energy enveloped him, a kind of force field, making it impossible for the Dark Forces to reach him—or so he thought.

At a signal from the leading wraith, two others closed in on Angelo. As I watched with fascination, each wraith moved closer and closer to the demon, who now stared at them, terror in his eyes.

“They’re ingesting the energy,” Marcus murmured. “Angelo cannot stop them.”

With the energy field dissolved, Angelo was helpless in the grip of the two wraiths who now dragged him to their leader.

“Goodbye, Angelo.” Roger sounded quite cheerful.

I was worried about Joseph. He didn’t look well, and he was leaning on me for support.

I wished that whatever the Dark Forces were going to do to Angelo, they’d do it in a hurry.

Joseph needed some TLC and fast.

The leading wraith turned to us, his shape shifting into that of a more solid appearance.

It was then I realised that the wraith-like forms were not their regular bodies.

Marcus, reading my thoughts gripped my shoulder. “You are correct, Micah. Wizard magic helps them change their forms at will—one more reason they cannot be trusted.”

The leader removed the hood of his cape and stared at us from dark eyes that were startling and at odds with his almost white-blond, shoulder-length hair.
Jeez
, I thought,
even
the bad vampires are hot looking
. For a moment, his eyes locked on mine, and my skin prickled with apprehension. It was as if I could feel him probing my mind.

Then he said, “Marcus, take your companions and go. This is not for you to see. We will keep the dark cloud over the sun until you reach the time portal.”

Great. Let’s go.

“Darius…” Marcus stepped towards him. “What assurance do we have that the evil one will die here today?”

Oh, please don’t get them all riled up and mad at us again
.

“Angelo will be punished,” the one called Darius replied. “But you will also, if you do not leave immediately.”

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Let’s go!

“Very well,” Marcus said to my great relief. “I trust in your word.”

“Marcus.” I tugged at his arm as we hurried from the Hall. “That guy in charge of the Dark Forces, he was looking at me strangely.”

Marcus grimaced. “Darius…most likely he was surprised to find you, a mortal, in our midst.”

We had made it as far as the outer castle yard when Joseph stumbled and pitched

forward, lying very still on the ground.

“Joseph!” I knelt by his side, trying to turn him over. I couldn’t budge him, but Marcus lifted him into his arms as though he weighed nothing at all.

“We must get him to the healer right away,” he said, his voice tense with concern.

“Roger, carry Micah back to the portal.”

“Right. Hop on, Micah.”

We rose into the air, Jean-Claude, Andre and the others right alongside us. We hadn’t gone very far when, from behind us, came the sound of an enormous explosion. Roger, along with all the others turned and hovered. I gaped awestruck at the giant ball of fire that had once been the wizards’ stronghold. The force of the blast almost knocked Roger and I out of the sky, and I yelped as I slipped off his back. I grabbed his belt and hung there, swinging like a trapeze artist until Jean-Claude zoomed up under me and hoisted me back up so I could grab onto Roger’s shoulders.

“Don’t do that again,” Roger quipped, slapping my butt.

“Very funny,” I said, weakly. “What d’you suppose happened back there?”

“The Dark Forces put paid to Angelo I should think—hopefully, this time for good.” He pointed ahead of us. “Look, there’s the portal straight ahead. Marcus has already taken Joseph through.”

“Will he be all right?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Joseph’s as strong as a horse.”

“Marcus said something about a healer.”

“Yeah, he told me about her. Some old woman who’s been around forever, and who

takes care of the badly wounded—I mean, uh…not that Joseph’s badly wounded or

anything.”

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Right, Roger. I know he’s badly hurt
, I thought but kept quiet. All I could do was pray.

We landed near the portal, and I ran straight through without waiting for anyone else. I looked around the passageway that thankfully was cloaked in darkness, lit only by a few candles. The vampires who had stayed behind were gathered around Joseph, while Marcus conferred with the woman Roger had told me about. Man, she was really old!

Surely, she couldn’t be a vampire.

Marcus saw me and beckoned me over. “This is Sharla,” he said. “She will tend to Joseph’s wound.”

Sharla gave me a squinty look from watery blue eyes. “He will need blood,” she said in a crackly voice. “But you are not an immortal.”

“No, but I’ll gladly give him my blood,” I blurted. “You must save him.”

“Calm yourself, Micah.” Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “Joseph wants you near him.”

“Human blood,” the old woman said, wheezing as she plodded to where Joseph lay.

“Even better. A good mixture of vampire and human should do the trick.”

Joseph looked up at me and smiled faintly. God, but he did not look good. A tremor of fear rippled through me as I knelt by his side and took his hand in mine. Someone had covered him with a cloak. His hand was icy cold.

“Joseph…” My voice sounded weak and trembled. I leaned over him and kissed his

lips. “I love you,” I whispered.

“Out of the way, out of the way,” Sharla scolded, tugging at my shoulder. “Kisses can come later.” She produced a small bottle of clear liquid, which she sprinkled on the open wound on Joseph’s shoulder. Then she leaned in close and blew on it. I wondered how hygienic all of this was, but everyone seemed so rapt and enthralled by what she was doing that I said nothing. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand, and before I knew what was happening, she had sliced open my wrist.

“Shit,” I yelled as she pulled at me, holding my wrist over Joseph’s wound and letting the blood drip into it. She muttered some strange words, holding me in a vice-like grip while she smoothed my blood over Joseph’s shoulder. I didn’t mind what she was doing as long as it helped Joseph recover, but she could’ve
asked
before she’d slashed at me with a knife.

“Now, Marcus,” she croaked, handing the knife to him. He nodded, opening his shirt and gashing himself above his left nipple. I watched with fascination as he lifted Joseph to DUET IN BLOOD

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his chest, letting him suck the blood that oozed from the cut. There was something erotic and beautiful about what was being played out in front of me—these two stunning men, the one nurturing the other, bringing him life with a selfless act of love and friendship. Sharla continued with her incantation while Joseph drank, and I sighed with relief as I saw the pallor in his cheeks being replaced by a healthier glow.

“Enough, Marcus. Now the mortal.”

Sharla grabbed me again and pushed my wrist towards Joseph’s mouth. He looked at me, hesitating, a question in his eyes. I nodded, and he bowed his head to take what I offered him. I stroked his hair while he sucked from me, and all around I heard the sighs of satisfaction from his friends as they recognised the worst was over, and Joseph would recover. He raised his head and looked into my eyes with such love and adoration, that, for a moment, my heart stood still with wonder.

“Thank you, my sweet Micah,” he whispered, kissing my wrist to heal the cut. Someone was massaging my shoulders. I looked up. It was Jean-Claude. His eyes were misted with tears, but he was smiling at me.

“Watching you both, just now,” he said softly. “I was reminded of when Ron saved me in like manner. Such are the purposes of love.”