Haven (48 page)

His hand burrowed into my hair, fingernails scraping my scalp. He bared my neck. My breath caught in my throat, fear choking me. Where was my precious fire power now? Why, oh why wouldn’t it ignite as easily
as my thirst for blood?

I’m so screwed.

“How long I’ve waited for this, the perfect instrument for my revenge.” His teeth pierced my flesh and he grunted in satisfaction, mouth pulling, hips grinding. Silver-white light engulfed me, his power coursing through me, slicing at my insides, attempting to carve a place for itself.
Mine, you are mine. Mine, you are mine,
it chanted. But the power hit a wall I hadn’t known existed until he clawed at it without success.

Dixon’s head reared back, black eyes blazing, chin smeared red with my blood. “I see their marks inside you, but they cannot keep me out forever. I will cut out those family
ties and break you, pet, bit by delicious bit. Not today, for we have another use for you this day. But soon, my pet, soon we will do this dance again. I will own you, body, mind, and soul. I promise you that.”

Though I was dizzy and nauseous, with my neck on fire and blood trickling down my chest, though my all-too-human body was powerless in his arms, I let him know my opinion of his plan. “Fuck. You.”

“Oh yes, my pet. Yes, you will.” He lowered his head as if to kiss me, but across the room, half the wall slid sideways to reveal four large, well-muscled, human men in black. Guns drawn.

“Roland is back,” their apparent leader announced.

Dixon nodded at Aaron. “You know what to do.”

Aaron whooshed over to the armed goons and they trooped out, sliding the door shut behind them.

“What are they going to do to Roland?” I was thrilled he was nearby, but even with the arrival of my powerful former nanny, the presence of four armed guards meant we were still outmanned. Clever Brigid probably had a small army of well-trained, heavily-armed badasses hidden throughout the building. What could one vampire do against that?

“What do you think they are going to do to him, luv?”

I didn’t reply, straining to hear something, but it was quiet. Were we far from the restaurant end of the building? If I screamed, would Roland hear me? Brigid’s magical barrier prevented power from entering or leaving this room, but what about sound?

I let out the loudest sound I could manage while Dixon squeezed me to his chest.

He smacked a hand over my mouth. “Naughty little kitty, trying to sound the alarm. What were you thinking?”

I was thinking Roland would come in here and rip you to shreds, you psycho bastard.

“Your precious Roland cannot hear you. Isn’t that right, Brigid?”

“Correct.” Brigid emerged from the storage room, followed by Dr. O and my brother.

Twenty Three

Tony was naked from the waist up—since I wore his shirt—and groggy and disoriented, as if someone pulled him out of a warm, comfy bed. To my relief, he appeared unharmed.

Dixon released me. I hurried to my brother on shaky legs. He scooped me up in a bear hug, my feet dangling off the floor.

“
Stai bene
?” He put me on my feet.

I nodded, fighting back tears. “
Si.”

He touched my cheek, smoothed the hair away from my face and caught sight of the fresh bite wounds on my neck. His brow furrowed. “No, you’re not okay. Did you and Alexander—?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Tony gave me a not buyin’ it look, and glanced at Brigid.

She waved. “You may see now.”

My brother surveyed the room, his brown eyes swimming with confusion. He swallowed hard, opened his mouth, closed it, hitched a breath, tried again. “This isn’t your—where—” he cleared his throat. “What’s going on? Why is Greg on the floor?”

“He is dead,” Dixon offered.

“Shut up, Dixon,” I snapped.

I grabbed my brother’s face, forced him to stare at me instead of the corpse. “Do you know how you got here?”

Tony blinked. “Where’s here?”

“Deep Freeze. Heard of it?”

He moved my hands off his face. “No.”

Calm, I needed to be calm for both of us. “Do you know why we’re here?”

“No, and why are you wearing my shirt?” His eyes travelled down to my legs. “And what the hell happened to your jeans? God, what happened to your leg?”

I followed his gaze. I’d forgotten blood covered my leg from thigh to foot. The bullet wound was healed over now, and someone had cleaned up my arms, but my leg, not pretty. “I’m all right,
fratello mio
.”

He hitched a breath. “That’s definitely
not
okay.”

“You’ve no idea what’s going on here, do you?”

“What’s going on?” he echoed me, voice edged with panic.

I addressed Dr. O. “Why doesn’t he know?”

“Drugs and magic, Princess.”

“Oliver,” Brigid warned.

“She has the right to know.”

Brigid stiffened. “She has no rights here.”

“I remember a sharp pain in my neck,” Tony interjected. “Then Paolo and Greg—” he glanced at the corpse on the floor. “They said they’d take me to your place. I thought this
was
your place.”

“Illusion. Smoke and mirrors.” I jerked my head at Brigid. “Wicked witch.”

Said witch scowled, fingers stroking the dagger sheathed at her waist. I tracked her movement, fingers twitching. If I could get my hands on her lethal toy...

“Brigid cast the illusion, but I sent his mind away,” Dixon added, watching me with hungry eyes. “I can do it, again. If you ask nicely.”

I scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I am offering to numb the pain. For a price.”

My brother sidled close, slipped his hand in mine.

“What pain?” I asked.

Brigid hissed a word in Gaelic and swept out her arm. My brother and I toppled to the floor, suffocating under her magic. She faced the two vampires. “Do not offer what you cannot provide, vampire.”

Dixon shrugged. “The possession does not require their suffering to work.”

Unease stabbed my gut. Possession?

Brigid clenched her fists. “You no longer wish them to suffer? What of your vengeance?”

Dixon waved a dismissive hand. “The boy is nothing to me. It is the girl the Warden treasures above all others.”

“Maurizio treasures them all.”

“That is your battle, witch. My war is with Thomas.”

The witch’s chest heaved. “And I say they both suffer.”

“Neither of them will suffer if you continue to suffocate them with your magic,” Dr. O interjected, his tone bland.

Brigid flicked her hand in our direction allowing us to move, sit up, gasp for air. “Bitch,” I choked. Tony elbowed my arm to shush me. The bitch ignored me.

“This is my show, Dixon. Remember your place in it. Or perhaps you would like to return to cold storage?”

Dixon’s power fell on the room like a huge wall of ice. Tony and I huddled together, once again gasping for air.

Sadly, the witch remained unaffected. “Do not push me, vampire.”

Oh, push, please push, you nasty vampire
.
Do me a favor and take each other out.

But he backed off, his power dissipating. “I will ignore your empty threat, for in truth, I do not care how much they suffer. As long as she lives through the process relatively
unblemished and is given to me afterward, as agreed.”

“Then we are in agreement.”

He inclined his head. “We are, but do not attempt to tell me what I can and cannot do. Or we will share more than mere words and paltry slaps of power.”

“Fair enough.” She smoothed her palm over the dagger at her waist. “My apologies. Long have I awaited this day. It proves difficult not to rush ahead now that we are so close.”

“Yes, witch, it has been a long wait for us both.”

“Then let us proceed, vampire.”

They turned to us. My brother and I scrambled to our feet, backing toward that long white wall I now knew was a door. I caught Dr. O’s gaze, and called in my head.
Help us. Please.

“No aide there, Tranquilli spawn,” Brigid spat. “He has sworn to heal and not to interfere. The old ones honor their vows.”

“That’s good, I guess.” I spoke to delay the inevitable, to give us a chance at the door. “What about you? Seems like your word means nothing.”

She arched a brow, visage haughty. “Meaning?”

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “Meaning, I bet you swore to protect and serve my family, yet here you are, breaking your word. And doing great harm. Isn’t that against your witch code? Some pesky rule of three?”

“You know nothing of the Law of Return,” she snapped.

“I know what comes around, goes around. In your religion that means it will bite you in the ass three times as hard.”

“That, mongrel, is precisely
why we are here.” The air around her shimmered with the heat of her magic. Her pupils expanded, swallowing the blue and white until there was nothing but an angry, pulsating darkness so thick with evil I jumped when she spoke. “I am the cruel hand of retribution and you, Tranquilli spawn, you are the payment.”

“For what?” Tony’s voice oozed defiance. He
clenched his fists, ready to fight. He might be a party boy, but under that carefree exterior he was all Tranquilli. And we fight.

Brigid gave him a stony stare.

I told him what I knew. “She’s mad at my dad. He killed someone she loved. Some vampire called
l’uomo nero
.”

Tony stilled. “
L’uomo nero?
”

I nodded. “Yep.”

His brows shot up. “The
boogeyman
. The boogeyman is real?”

“Correct.”

“And he’s a vampire.”

“Was, but yeah.”

He sucked in a breath. “The boogeyman is real and he’s a vampire. A vampire uncle Maurizio killed.”

“You got it.” Our conversation gave me a serious case of déjà vu.

He jerked his head at the witch. “She’s his girlfriend.”

“Unfortunately. His pissed off girlfriend.”

Tony snorted. “Doesn’t make sense. She works for the family. Why would uncle keep her around if she was his enemy’s girlfriend?”

I shrugged.

“They were not always enemies,” Dr. O offered.

“That’s enough, Oliver.” Brigid commanded, tone glacial.

“No,” Dr. O replied. “It is not enough. You know he loved the Dark One as a brother. You know what it cost him to slay him. You of all left alive know it was not done lightly, nor has it ever been forgotten.”

“Or forgiven.”

“You must stop this foolishness. Before it is too late.”

“It is already too late. Centuries too late.”

“It is a tragic tale, my princess,” Dr. O continued, as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Of friendship and love gained and lost. Of power, politics, and dark magic. And a young witch bound into the service of a ruthless master vampire.”

Brigid made a strangled sound, her face reddening, body shaking with fury. “No, Oliver! You will not share my story with her. I forbid it!”

She launched herself at the doctor but Dixon intervened, grabbing her arm. She whirled and struck out with the other but Dixon caught it, too, holding her with ease while she struggled and screeched. Energy seeped out of her, skittering across my skin like biting spiders. Tony felt it, too. We rubbed our arms and backed to the door. Close now, a few steps away from potential freedom.

“Wake up, witch,” Dixon growled. “They seek to distract you, to further delay these proceedings. Remember who you are. Remember why we are here. Act now, or I will take the girl this instant and be gone from this place.”

I stiffened, not liking the sound of that at all.

Brigid froze. He gave her a hard stare and whatever her face revealed must have satisfied him because he released her and swept out his hands. Alarm bells triggered inside me. Tony and I exchanged a look and bolted for the door. There was no discernible handle but I knew it slid left so I pushed with all my might. Tony joined me but it wouldn’t budge.

“The door is locked pet,” Dixon called. “There is no escaping the main event. It will be much less painful if you relax and open to it.”

“Screw you.” I smacked the door in frustration and faced Team Evil. Tony followed suit, minus the smacking.

Brigid stalked toward us. “Back off, bitch,” I warned, scanning the room for a weapon not attached to her hip.

She continued forward, muttering in Gaelic. Her words made the hairs on my arms stand at attention. Beside me, Tony stiffened, sensing the magic, too.

Smoke wafted out of her, engulfing her like a second skin, thick, dark, and odorless.

“No.” I hitched a breath, mouth dry.
Not smoke.
It was every child’s nightmare, the shadows under the bed, the rustling in the closet, the movement seen out of the corner of one’s eye. It was the stuff of nightmares, of my nightmare not so long ago, and it wanted to devour us, well, me.

It wanted
me
.

“
L’uomo nero,
” I whispered.

The black form grew taller, wider and stepped forward, separating itself from the witch. Every part of its body undulated and curled, like smoke contained in a glass sculpture shaped like a man. Beautiful and terrifying.

Tony pulled my arm. “
Andiamo
.”

I resisted. Nowhere to run.

“Tranquilli,” the witch growled in a voice that wasn’t hers, deeper, richer, three voices made one. The voice of
L’Uomo Nero
.

He raised his undulating smoke hand, reaching for me. “Come, dhampyre. Show yourself.”

His command flipped some internal switch and my feral vampire half sprang to life, responding to the boogeyman, answering his primal call. The human half of me screamed in protest, but it was a distant voice, fading, quashed by the need to connect, to feed, to slake my thirst. With a touch of that hand. Blood and power, all there, reaching for me. I stepped forward, hand outstretched, heart pounding, eyes sliding to black.