BloodSworn (25 page)

Merrick had Judith by the throat without Trina having seen
him move.

“I was protecting the pack. No one was to be harmed.” Judith
grabbed his wrist, but made no move to pry away his fingers as if recognizing
the futility. She spoke fast, the words turning into a gurgle as the bones in
her throat slowly cracked. “No harm to your pet.”

Trina hated stopping him, but she had to know. “Merrick, she
wouldn’t come here just for you to kill her. Let her speak.”

Merrick growled in denied rage then reluctantly dropped her
to the ground.

Judith coughed, and up close, Trina saw more signs of abuse.
Battered and dirty, her hair a tangled mess, little of her resembled the proud
woman Trina had first met. How the she-wolf must hate that.

“My pack left me. Kicked me out with only a few guards.” She
started to rise, but thought better of it when she glanced up at Merrick, no
doubt thinking to make herself all helpless or maybe in a long-overdue show of
obedience.

“They said as the pack alpha, you have the ultimate ruling.”
She bowed her head as if contrite.

Trina snorted. The only thing that woman regretted was
getting caught.

“If you help me get my pack back, I’ll help you.”

“What could you possibly have that I would want?” Merrick’s
eyes frosted over.

Judith lifted her chin and smiled. “I know how to get into
Galloway Castle.”

 
Chapter Twenty-eight

“
W
ho
owns a fricken’ castle these days?”

Dorian shrugged. “Rumors say a lord was forced to flee
Europe, or chased out for various crimes depending on who you ask, and refused
to leave his home. He had a replica reconstructed on this parcel of land. The
locals say it’s haunted and refuses to set foot in the forests.” He turned as
his name was called but hesitated. “No doubt all the missing persons reports
support that claim.”

Trina shivered as she watched him walk away, leaving her
alone in front of the crypt. The atmosphere felt like they were in the shadow
of the castle despite it being over a mile away. Dried leaves crunched and
rustled in the breeze, bare tree branches waved like claws warning them away.
Crows screamed and Trina swore they were telling her to turn back toward the
cars and leave.

The few hours of sleep she’d managed to eke out before they’d
left had done nothing to refresh her. The plan the men concocted with Judith
seemed faulty at best, but it was all they had. So, they’d gathered the few
people they could trust and headed out.

Trina gazed at the crypt, reluctant to enter the dark pit.
She saw death at work, gone through years of training to fight that silent
ghost. It was a whole ‘nother thing to walk into the confining underground
space with hundreds of dead. “Only a vampire would name their castle after a
method of death.”

Cool air brushed against her, the sun’s weak rays doing
nothing to warm her skin. She felt them down there, moving underground, and she
couldn’t get over the irrational fear that they were crawling through the dirt,
ready to grab and pull her beneath the ground.

 The graveyard was haphazardly kept, only enough to cover
the vampires’ coming and goings, a reason why someone would be at a cemetery.
Weeds spilled from the forest and some of the older gravestones had long since
gone white with age and the unrelenting burn of the sun.

“You look nervous.” Merrick paused at her side, dressed in
so many weapons that she half-expected them to fall off him as he walked.

“No.”

He flashed her a smile, excitement shining in his green
eyes. “We’ll get her out alive.”

Trina didn’t expect anything less, but she wondered at what
cost. He appeared to relish the coming battle, more relaxed than she’d ever
seen him. Sunlight glinted in his hair. The strands had grown out in the last
few days, making him appear more of a rogue than she’d ever seen him. Despite very
little rest, he showed no sign of a limp. Part of her worried how much further
he could push himself before he crashed.

Merrick and his men were built for this type of thing, their
animals peering out from their eyes, enjoying the camaraderie and excitement of
the upcoming hunt.

“You’re enjoying yourself.” Trina shot the accusation at
him, more than a little surprised.

“I’ve been trapped behind a desk for too long. It feels good
to be in the thick of things again.” Merrick shrugged, his body brushing
against her in a way that caught her breath. The glint in his eyes said he saw
her reaction. She wouldn’t doubt he did it on purpose to distract her.

And it worked.

Part of her anxiety eased at his complete confidence. He
gave her hope that together, they could handle whatever came for them.

There were fifteen of them total, a mixture of wolves and witches,
but only half of them would enter the tunnels. Any more would risk drawing too
much attention to them. The rest were to remain topside at the graveside
entrance in case something went wrong. Weston would be in charge, his injuries
limiting his participation. He was chafing at being left behind and avoided
her. She’d become so use to his nearness that his abandonment hurt.

Fear thickened the air around her at the thought of all the
things that could go wrong. She was endangering these people with her crazy
idea. Desperate to push away her doubts, Trina fingered the stake she’d spent
the last few weeks carving, imagining finally putting it where it belonged.

Merrick’s large hand slipped into hers, threading their
fingers together. He lightly brushed against his mark, and her breath caught.

“Merrick…” She wanted to reprimand him, but nothing came
out except for a sigh. As if he knew, his smile widened.

“Dorian said what you’re sensing is a spell on the crypt,
placed there to scare people away. It affects those who linger a little too
long and keeps them from investigating further.”

“For being allergic to magic, it surprises me that vampires
rely on it so much.”

Others gathered around them, and Dorian walked up to her as
they waited. “It’s effective, and vampires are nothing if not efficient.”

She suspected Dorian was explaining the spell to distract
them both. “How did they find a witch to cast for them?”

He shrugged. “Any number of ways. Send a human to purchase a
spell. A witch might have even done it if enough money was offered. Favors. The
need to live forever. The list is endless. Not all witches are connected to the
coven and under the council rules.”

Now that he pointed it out, she saw a light curl of magic,
like fog, lingered around the crypt. A very efficient delivery system. With
each breath, the spell spread and infected the person’s nervous system. The spell
was well crafted, barely using any magic. Undetectable unless you knew what to
look for. She reached forward when Dorian caught her arm.

“Any interference could trigger an alarm or an attack.”

Trina curled her fingers, hating that everyone knew more
about magic than she did despite the fact that she carried it in her very
blood.

“You ready?” He looked up at her abruptly from adjusting his
weapons. As a war mage, he excelled at hand-to-hand combat, not to mention throwing
and casting spells fast and wicked. They were considered second-rate citizens,
but their spells were brutal enough to get the job done. She would venture to
guess that no witch could say the same unless they were given time to prepare
first.

The wild hope in his eyes caught her breath. Not hope for
the coming battle, though. If she had to guess, she would say that look was
reserved for her sister. “You love her.”

He didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “Very much. She’ll
kill me for taking you inside, so stay safe.”

Vampires had ruined her life twice already, she wouldn’t
allow them to do it again.

She scanned their small crew, her eyes coming to rest on
Judith. The wolf looked surprisingly deadly decked out in her weapons with her
hair back and her clothes neat. Trina squinted. “Are they wearing swords
strapped to their backs?”

Merrick nodded. “We’ll be fighting vampires. The only way to
finish a vampire off quickly is to remove their head. Hand-to-hand combat will
take too long.”

It made sense, and Trina was both intimidated and impressed,
wishing she had one as well.

Merrick must have guessed her thoughts. “Judith didn’t
become alpha without earning her spot. She’s one of the best fighters. Brutal
during combat. She’s also devious, so don’t trust her too much.” He lifted
their joined hands and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Good hunting.”

It was ridiculous the way she reacted to him, but his
nearness called up wicked thoughts and warm comfort at the same time. Everyone
fell silent as they neared the entrance of the crypt. The inside was relatively
clean with granite lining the ceiling and floors.

A large casket had sat in the middle of the room until two
shifters pushed it off to the side, nothing a human would have the strength to
accomplish. Underneath, a hole gaped in the floor like in some old horror flick,
revealing a set of worn stones leading down into darkness. Although she admired
the secrecy, the darkened pit scared the bejesus out of her.

The first of the people entered the passageway in pairs, the
witches to check for traps, while the wolves kept them safe. They got along
better than she expected given their tense relationship the past few years. If
some of the witches were leery of blindly following the shifters, it was
nothing compared to the shifters hyper-vigilance, as if they expected to feel a
collar strapped around their throats and kept as guard dogs of old.

Merrick crowded behind her, his presence the only thing that
prevented her from bolting. No one spoke as they descended. Dust coated the air
until it felt like they were breathing dirt, the grit pushing down on her
chest. The flashlights barely lit the darkness in the narrow tunnel. The sharp
smell of moss clung to the room, warning that vampires frequented the place,
but there was no mold or decay as she’d expected. The temperature dropped the
farther they went. The walls were stone and dry and so very narrow, they could only
walk single file.

Everything appeared so clean that she never would’ve guessed
they were in a graveyard.

Then she saw something that sent a shiver through her, and
the last illusions of peace vanished. Near the base of the steps were pale scratches,
broken fingernails and dried blood.

The nails were human. It was as if the vampires had let their
victims get close to freedom, tasted the hope of escaping, before they dragged them
back into hell.

Drew stepped closer to Dorian, and she couldn’t say she
blamed him. She’d tried to get him to stay behind, but the stubborn fool
wouldn’t listen to reason, sprouting some nonsense of finishing what he’d started.

When she pushed, he said that as the pack Familiarian, it
was his right to join the hunt. She wished she’d brought her medical bag so she
could knock him out. Unethical? Maybe, but at least he’d remain alive. Merrick
had sided with Drew, saying that they might need him.  

After twenty feet, the tunnel widened a fraction, so she
could no longer touch each wall simultaneously. The ceiling no longer brushed
the men’s head, easing the feeling that the tunnel could collapse at any second.
But that’s when she saw the shadowy shapes in the darkness. She reached out,
half-expecting to feel cool stone under palms, thinking that her mind was
playing tricks on her.

Instead, she brushed against hard steel.

Jerking back, she grabbed Merrick’s arm, directing his
flashlight to the wall and nearly leaping out of her skin when the dim beam
flickered off a coffin.

It was stupid. They were in a crypt, of course there would
be coffins. A metal plaque was centered on the casket. Name, town, birth and
death were listed along with a number.

There was no dust or grime on the lid. When she directed the
flashlight upward, vibrant flowers rested lovingly on top.

“They are the ones who died during the change.” Merrick crowded
her back, urging her to catch up with the others.

She didn’t want to see the vampires as anything but
monsters. Since she was a child, that’s all they were to her. Now she wondered
what her blood meant to these people. She couldn’t excuse or justify their
behavior, but Trina understood how desperation could claw at one’s soul. 

Row after row of coffins lined both walls, stacked on top of
each other, all neatly labeled. The underground passageways looped around and
went on for miles. That meant there had to be thousands of them down here.

The closer they drew toward Galloway, the higher the tension
built. The stones grew rougher, the coffin cubby holes changed from stone to
dirt as if they’d had run out of room and had to dig more. Stacked bones lay in
forgotten piles at the edges of the floor awaiting burial…or had been snacks
to be disposed.

Each step weighed down her heart. The memorial to the dead would
haunt her dreams. As the pathway widened, she hurried, eager to get away from
the clinging sadness.

Only to turn the corner and find three sentries.

Both sides froze, a toss-up as to who was more surprised.