Inescapable (Eternelles: The Beginning, Book 1) (5 page)

She started to scream but one of the vampyres got behind her and covered her mouth.

“I should rip your neck out for saying that, bitch! I think we’ve waited long enough for you to do as you’re told like a good little girl,” he growled into her ear.

The energy bustled within her now—a dark spiral that rose from her gut, and escalated until she felt like she was going to explode. Any normal person would call it ‘seeing red’ but in her case it went even beyond that. The fire became a tangible thing, a part of her. She burned.

She struggled to get a grip as the assailant facing her tightened his now-solid fingers on her throat, like a vise. He wouldn’t have thought twice to kill her had he the leave to do so; she could see it in his bottomless pits for eyes—depths of horrific nothingness like craters to Hell.

Her ears buzzed as anger and fear grew into an incandescent whirlpool somewhere in the control system of her mind and spread to her limbs and vital organs. Her entire body existed for one purpose at that moment—to bring out her secret nature bequeathed by one of her biological parents who passed their phoenix blood to her.

Somewhere from a distance, she heard Rafe’s voice.

“Stand down, now! Who gave you permission to hurt her?
Who?
” he demanded to know.

As he wrung the life out of her, the monster laughed, a deep cackle, without an ounce of empathy. Clearly, this one wasn’t following Rafe’s commands. She wheezed and gagged when he squeezed harder, but she wouldn’t give in.

Not this time, you son of a bitch.

She set herself on fire, let the flames consume her before she turned on her attackers and concentrated on giving them a dose of their own medicine. The monsters jumped back in shock, all three of them. Her hands became masses of fire with licking tentacles, ready for her to wield them as weapons. Taking advantage of their surprise, she grabbed two of the vampyres by their throats and let the flames curl around their heads first, then, their bodies. Their tortured screams resonated as they twisted in her grasp but were unable to break free.

It would have been futile to go for the other one. As expected, he had already turned to mist. There was no way one could burn a mass of intangible fog that would shift and break into millions of pieces before coming together again, as if nothing had happened.

The vampyres burned, which would weaken their defenses, albeit as a mere deterrent. There wasn’t much more she could do except hold them off and hope for the best, for only fire from the one and only sun could silence them forever. She turned toward Rafe, wondering how she was going to deal with him. The flames rose higher, burning hotter at the mere thought of him.

But the sight of him gave her pause. He stood by the bodies of the two mist creatures that were now slumped on top of each other in a gruesome, gooey heap. Dead.

Then she moved her attention to his right hand to realize he clutched the third vampyre’s throat in a stranglehold. Stunned and off balance, she froze and struggled to keep the heat flowing. As if sensing her shock, he turned to her, never losing control of the vampyre. The planes of his face looked sharper somehow, as if chiseled from rock. His expression was fierce, almost wild.
Mad. Angry.

Deadly.

“They tried to hurt you,” he said in a clipped tone. “They disobeyed me.”

He made it sound like he was more upset at their mutiny than their actual actions toward her, but she knew now that wasn’t true.

He looked back at his quarry and his eyes went cold—so cold she almost floundered and lost her grip on her two.

He was a predator on the hunt. God forbid he ever looked at her that way.

“Tell me now, before I reduce you to dust,” he told his prisoner. “I expressly told you that if you touched a hair on her head, I’d make you regret you ever existed. So, who gave you the orders to defy me?”

No answer was forthcoming as the vampyre held his ground, obstinately refusing to speak.

Rafe’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. From the way things looked, Sera fancied him downing a knob of pure rage. He looked at her again.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. He didn’t move, as though he wrestled with an inner emotion that was too strong for him.
I care for you,
his expression said.
I won’t let anyone harm you.

Again, she didn’t want to believe him…but what she was seeing defied all wisdom and swerved her sanity into left field.

Rafe wanted to protect her.

So what was he? Good or bad? A kidnapper, or a savior?

Sera’s anger dropped from a precipice into the bottom of a murky ocean, searching for purchase, for a reason to keep that fire alive. When it found nothing to hold on to, it started to fizzle out, but she held on, knowing she was far from safe yet. The life force drained from her the more she kept going, but what choice did she have?

“I….” she gasped, depleted. Death was not such an outlandish notion. If her mother didn’t get here soon, she was done for. “Why?”

Why was he colluding with these monsters—evil personified?

“I made them. I could destroy them,” he said, motioning to the other two, and either misconstruing her question or deciding not to answer it. He pushed the vampyre back into the wall without breaking a sweat. “This one’s different. He’s not mine, but I can kill him anyway.”

With that, he reached into an inner jacket pocket and pulled out a strange looking weapon. Half stake, half dagger, made entirely of what seemed like wood.

“It’s good to be prepared.”

In a smooth move, he aimed it at the vampyre’s heart and stabbed him hard, burying the pale to the hilt. Now lifeless, a gurgle of blood leaching from his mouth, the vampyre slid to the floor and fast disintegrated into dust.

“You don’t speak up, you lose,” he said in disgust.

Retrieving his weapon, Rafe pocketed the stake and rushed toward her as the flames started to die down, and control over her body quickly eroded. She coughed and stumbled as her breathing grew shallower. Still, she tried to hold on.

“Let them go!” he commanded.

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her.

He meant there was nothing he could do while she kept them enveloped in the flames.

“If I…let go…you’ll…take me away.”

“Let go now, or there’ll be nothing left of you to take!” he roared.

She moaned as she felt herself being pulled to Death’s door. She was reaching a stage where she’d be soon lost, trapped between this world and the next. Unless…unless she was saved one more time by the only woman she knew in this world who would ever defy such an outcome.

But time was on the verge of running out. She felt it.

Rafe approached her, and she panicked. If he got too close, he’d burn with the others, feel the same anguish they did, and she would not manage to survive the energy absorption from three bodies. The two were damn near breaking her. A third would have her push open that unearthly door and leave this world for good.

Her eyes met his and she wondered if they were really glossed over or whether it was just a trick of her imagination. Was that longing she saw in them?

Of course, there was no physical desire now but something eminently more…

She saw fear. Fear for
her
.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Words that stung, in so many ways.
God, so many ways.

Just when she wavered…just when she was reaching for the exit, resigned to her destiny, a voice boomed from the door.

“Get your hands off my daughter!”

For a mere second, Adri froze in the doorway, the sight of her daughter tearing her heart. How dare that bastard touch her? And what in heaven’s name was the
sale cochon
doing here?

And Sera had caught fire, for goodness’ sake.
Et puis, merde!
Des had been right; her daughter hadn’t been safe. All through the trip to the hotel, she’d tried hard to quell the rising panic inside her. Something had tickled her brain, twisted its way through her gut to clutch at her heart—the certainty that Sera lay in danger.

Of course she’d be in danger—Rafe Harcourt was in the room, having brought the phoenix to life. Bad. The girl wouldn’t hold on for much longer; she could see it in the eyes where the flames were starting to subside. She took a few steps toward Sera. She’d have to take care of Rafe some other time. Priority right now: to free her daughter from the clutches of her base nature.

Sera held two creatures by the throat. Judging by the pile of dust near the wall, she’d venture they were vampyres. The coward had brought reinforcements with him. How like him.

He stood in front of the burning creature, one arm raised, while his stance said he was ready to jump.

Into the fire? Adri blinked. Why would he do that? The flames would consume him.

And they’d consume Sera, too, if she didn’t do anything.

With strength pulled from Lord knew where, she charged into the room and pushed Rafe aside.

“Set her free!” he cried, his voice pleading.

Wait a second.
Pleading? She risked a glance at him. Contrition etched his features taut, and helplessness dawned in his eyes. What on earth...?

“What do you have to do with this?” she asked.

“It’s more important that you save her,” he countered.

He reached into his jacket and, in the blink of an eye, both she and Des had closed in on him. A vampyre cornered would never cower in his shoes, but Rafe did when Des closed a big hand on the leather sleeve. She’d swear alarm zinged through his gaze.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Des uttered in a menacing tone.

“I only want to help,” Rafe replied. “I have something that can kill them in my pocket.”

Without releasing him, Des searched the jacket lining with his free hand. Without a word, he handed her the wood stake.

A possession of vampyre lords, the few such weapons had long ago been spelled by White Witches—lords could thus decimate their own kind should they feel justice was needed. Without it, they couldn’t kill others like them.

She’d heard Rafe had risen to the lofty position in the top tier of The Vampyre Federation some time ago. Was that why he’d come after Sera? Because, now, he could?

“Mom,” a single croak resounded on the crackle and hiss of a spurt of fire.

“Let them go, Séraphine,” he pleaded.

What was Rafe up to? He rallied minions to catch her and then begged her to save herself? Those questions would have to wait, because now, she had to save her daughter. And yes, too—work with the enemy, if that’s what it took.

“You know I cannot command that stake. Only you can,” she started, already at Sera’s side.

She had no choice but to trust that he’d do the right thing and kill them after she’d pulled them out.

Without another thought, she lunged into the flames. Heat wrapped itself around her, singed her skin. But nothing on her burned. Up close, the sight that greeted her churned her insides. The vampyres had been reduced to carbonized flesh, their clothes, skin, and hair all burnt to cinders. Grabbing both their necks, she pulled and threw them out of the fire.

They landed with a thud on the floor, and she barely had time to blink before Rafe jumped onto them and drove the stake into their hearts. Dust exploded all around, and in front of her, Sera’s blaze went out. The girl reeled, before she fell. Adri barely had time to grab her under her armpits before she hit her head against the coffee table.

Not one fiber of clothing on the two of them had seared. How could that be possible, when the inferno had decimated the vampyres? What was that bond between them, they who hadn’t even known each other before one and a quarter century earlier?

“Mom,” Sera moaned.

“I’m here,
trésor
. Shhh. Everything will be fine.”

“Rafe...”

“Is leaving, and he won’t come back again.” She turned a hateful glare onto the vampyre, who still stood with the piles of dust at his feet.

Adri noticed the masses of black slime on the carpet, their stench of decay rising along the dark vapors evaporating from the disgusting goop.

“How dare you?” she cried out. “You created soul stealers to do your dirty work? To harm the one you profess to love? You are nothing but a despicable monster.”

“I never wanted to hurt her.”

“Yeah, right.” Des grabbed Rafe by the shoulders and hauled him across the room. The big body smashed into a mirror on the wall and crumpled onto the floor, taking with it a crystal vase and the demi-console propped there.

Something was definitely amiss here. A vampyre would never allow himself to be caught unawares, and no creature, except weres on nights they shifted, could wield enough strength to bodily lift an undead. Who the hell was Desmond Roxburgh?

More surprising even was Rafe getting up, and offering no resistance when Des stepped in his direction again.

“Stop,” she commanded. “Don’t hurt him.”

Des glared at her. “He deserves it after what he’s done.”

“True, but I want to hear what he’s been doing here.”

“I can make him talk.”

She didn’t pause, didn’t even blink. “Then do it.”

Des took a step toward Rafe, who stepped back.

Who on earth could scare a vampyre?

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said as he glanced in their direction. “It should never have come to this.”

“What—”

With that, he disappeared.

Stunned, Adri looked up at Des. The startling conclusion she’d just come to echoed off his features.

He rushed to her side, and knelt on the carpet. “You saw the pendant, too.”

She gasped.
No!
This couldn’t be what she thought. Sera would stand no chance, then... “He cannot have become an overlord.”

Reached just one step short of the ultimate, Supreme Ruler position inside the Federation, head of worldwide Vampyre Authority. As an overlord, he could bid for the top spot at any time. Third spot as a vampyre lord had been bad enough, but now?

He snorted. “You know as well as I do that the pendant only belongs to the overlord, that the one who died must’ve willed it to his successor. Those leather ties merge into the overlord’s neck muscle. How else could he have gotten it?”

“So he commands a territory now? Which one?” The questions tumbled inside her mind, and she didn’t stop to ponder who she spoke to. Worry was too prominent on her brain.

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

“But, how? Who are you really? And how come you know so much?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” he said softly. “You let him go. Why?”

She looked down, refusing to give him an answer.

“He’s her maker, isn’t he?”

Too tired to fight, or keep up pretenses any longer, she merely nodded. “He hasn’t released her yet.” A snort escaped her. “Not that I see how he’ll ever release her. He turned her so she could be his. She dreams of him, you know. She’s kept that a secret, but I’ve heard her uttering his name when she is asleep. Especially recently.”

Why now, Rafe Harcourt?
Thoughts of worry muddled her brain.

In her arms, Sera stirred. Good, the girl was waking up. Hopefully, the change wouldn’t have depleted her too much, and she could recover. Adri forced herself to tear her gaze from Des to peer into her daughter’s face.

Her heart accelerated, the certainty something was amiss powering her pulse. Ominous threads wove their way into her consciousness, and she could hear her heartbeat in a pound against her temple.

Hers, and someone else’s.

Des’ heartbeat.

Horror clutched her as she risked another glance at her daughter, who had now awoken...as a vampyre. The lust for blood filled her smoky grey eyes to a dark, crimson shade. Such a hungry creature would lunge for anything that could feed its craving, and right now, that someone would be Des.

He hadn’t seen the thirst in Sera’s eyes. Not yet. So he was totally unprepared when the girl pounced onto him with desperate strength that belied her weakened state. The vampyre was awake—everything else fell onto the wayside.

They toppled into a tangle on the floor, a feral growl she’d often heard in darkened Victorian streets in
London’s East End filling the air with its chilling resonance. How could she ever have thought she’d hear this coming from her own daughter one day? Sera had never experienced the craving like today, had never burned with her phoenix powers as she had just earlier.

She had to save Des, keep Sera away from him. Adri jumped to her feet, before she grabbed the long red ponytail and pulled back. Des winced when the sharp talons ripped out of his shoulders.

“Go!” She wrestled with the ferocious monster that had emerged from her sweet little girl. She wouldn’t be able to hold her and help him at the same time, so he had to move.

Des lifted his head, and caught her eyes with his. Then, without a word, he disappeared.

What?
Where did he go? No one other than vampyre overlords and soul stealers could dematerialize like smoke and vanish. He couldn’t be a soul stealer—much too alive for that. How about an overlord? She hadn’t seen any pendant, though that could be hidden under his shirt. So then, how had she not felt anything specific about him when they shook hands earlier? No creature she knew of could erect a firewall against her mental prodding.

The questions rolled and tumbled, and a hiss, like that of a cat prancing for a fight, brought her back to the room.

Sera eyed her with those still-crimson irises, the blood lust having completely taken over. In another minute, or less, she would jump out of the door and go slake her thirst from the first human who would cross her path.

Adri couldn’t have that happening. Time for her to fight her daughter, to put all feelings aside and think of the greater good.

The fury came at her with her talons; she deflected the lunging body with one swipe of her arm and a stiletto-heel kick into the shins. The seam of her dress ripped in the process, but she paid that no mind as Sera lost her balance and fell. The side of her head again hit the coffee table, but this time the center of it. Glass shattered and the solid ebony wood even crumbled under the force of the fall from the superhuman inert mass.

Tentacles of regret and dismay wrapped around Adri’s heart as she contemplated what she’d done to her daughter. She’d had no other choice, though, and prayed the girl wouldn’t remember any of this episode.

She stepped through the glass and picked up the limp body, to carry her, half-dragging, onto a clean rug in front of the doorway to one bedroom. There, she sat on her knees, pulled the girl’s head onto her lap, and used a shard of glass to slit her left wrist open. Blood oozed from the cut, which she then pressed to Sera’s lips.

The trickle of the dark liquid into her mouth made Sera open her eyes. Adri averted her gaze from the red irises. She couldn’t bear to see this, what her beautiful princess had been reduced to.

The sucking at her wrist gradually decreased in intensity, and when she next glanced at the girl, the eyes had returned to their usual grey shade.

Thank goodness.

Sera’s eyelids slowly closed, and her head grew heavy in her mother’s lap. Adri drew the limp body close to her, and as tears rolled from her eyes, slowly rocked the girl like she had done so many times in the past, when Sera had been growing up. There’d been a time when she had refused to sleep without being cuddled by her mother. Of course, she’d been a little girl then, all of six years old.

And after more than a hundred years, the love Adri had felt at the time had merely grown, snowballed until it became an ever-rising tide that threatened to engulf her every time she looked at her daughter and contemplated the distance between them. Distance that Rafe, in all his selfishness, had created.

Yet, tonight, he’d shown her a different side of him. Could he really care for Sera, Séraphine, as he always called her? Then why had he been here with three vampyres and Lord knew how many soul stealers? Creatures he must’ve brought to life himself, because he’d killed them.

Which led her to the only thing that mattered at the moment—Sera wasn’t safe. She wouldn’t be until they returned to
Shadow Bridge, within the protection of the town’s invisible walls and their very own castle. The sooner they got there, the better.

Glancing at the sleeping form, she sighed. How would she do this? She might be a warrior but she wasn’t that strong to carry an adult girl from the penthouse suite all the way down to the garage where her car—