To Walk the Night (27 page)
A long, mournful howl lit up the night, and I turned long enough to see a very large werewolf standing on top of Tremaine’s mansion. His eyes were on me, and in the moonlight, I could see his teeth glistening. I could have sworn he was smiling.
“Adrian.” The name slipped through my lips and a chill coursed throughout my entire body.
He seemed to hear me despite the distance. He nodded once and then turned, vanishing over the rooftop. I stared after him wordlessly, my body cold as ice. Seconds passed and Adrian didn’t appear again.
Part of me wanted to go after him. Part of me knew if I did, I wouldn’t live through the encounter.
Without waiting to see if anyone else would appear, I turned and fled from the massacre raging on behind me, wondering if I would be the only one to survive.
31
I sat idling outside The Bloody Stake. The parking lot was full. Laughter drifted out when a young couple opened the doors and walked out, arm in arm. No one followed them.
I watched them get in a car and drive off. I considered pulling out right after them and going home. I didn’t want to be there. I knew what waited for me inside, and I really didn’t want to have to face it.
Five nights had passed since the events at Tremaine’s mansion. Adrian hadn’t come for me, nor had any of the wolves. I didn’t even go back for my weapons or in search of my coat. I had others. I didn’t need them.
But then the letter arrived, placed on the front stoop. I never saw who left it, but I had a good idea. It wasn’t too hard to figure out, what with his signature and all at the bottom of the page.
I shut off my Honda and frowned. After tonight, Ethan would get to work on repairing it. The scratch looked obscene to me now. It was a constant reminder of a week I sorely wanted to forget.
“What the hell,” I said. What did I have to lose? I would just go in, see what he wanted, and get out. I needed some downtime, time to relax before starting all this craziness again.
The inside of the Stake was loud and obnoxious like always. Mikael was in his usual spot; he winked at me as I came in. It was a telling gesture. He knew I was responsible for the fall of House Tremaine, though he didn’t know how close I had come to failing. If I had anything to say about it, he would never know.
I scanned the crowd until my eyes fell on a certain hooded form sitting alone at a booth. I picked my way across the floor, an old coat I had stopped wearing years ago dragging on the ground behind me. No wonder I had shoved the thing into my closet and bought a new one. The damn thing was too long.
I slid into the booth, unsure what to say. Jonathan kept his head down, staring into a beer he hadn’t even touched. Another beer rested in front of me. The silence hung over us like a cloud, waiting for the first word to blow it away.
“So,” I said, first to breach the silence. “House Tremaine is truly dead.” I took a sip of the beer. It was warm. It had sat there for quite a while. I set it aside, not liking the taste of it. I was hungry for a drink of another kind, though I hadn’t been able to bring myself to hunt. I had seen enough blood lately. I didn’t need to spill more.
“The sorcerer survived,” Jonathan said, never lifting his head. “We have him locked away for now. He isn’t talking. We’ll break him eventually.” He took a sip of his beer. “There might be one or two more that survived. I’m not sure.”
“They might know my face.”
“They might,” he said. “But they still don’t know who you really are. I never told them. No one did.” The last came out pained.
In his letter, Jonathan had told me the results of our raid on House Tremaine. None of the Pureblood Cultists survived. Nathan and Jonathan lived, but that was all out of our little group. The Purebloods in the basement were freed, but they would probably die anyway. They had endured so much, there was little hope of recovery for most.
“What of the mansion?” I asked. “Did you burn it?” I felt ashamed asking. That was the sort of thing I should have known. I hadn’t been out of my house since the battle.
Jonathan shook his head. “The mansion is already occupied. It was claimed just after I went through the place with the Cult, making sure no one else was hiding somewhere in its depths.”
“Figures,” I said. Vampires were quick to capitalize on the fallen. “Do you know who is there now?”
Jonathan took a deep breath and looked away. “Adrian has taken up residence with a few of his wolves. He didn’t take part in the battle. He wanted us to kill Tremaine. We did his job for him.”
I tensed, waiting for more. I could still feel that last lingering glance on me, the power of his eyes. He was still loose and
he
knew who I was.
he
knew who I was.
“But I see no reason to go after him,” Jonathan finished.
I just about choked on my tongue. “Even after what he did?” I had to fight to keep from shouting. Bart glanced in our direction, then turned his back to us to polish a glass I was sure was already clean.
“He is one of my kind,” Jonathan said. “He could have taken part in the battle, but he didn’t. He gave us the chance to take down Tremaine without getting involved himself. I think that gives him the right to make a life for himself.”
I wasn’t so sure I agreed. The bastard had nearly gotten us killed. “But he defected from the Cult, knows where your Den is located. What happens if he decides to come finish you off ?” And there was that whole bit about being resistant to silver. I wasn’t so sure I was ready to divulge that information just yet.
Jonathan shrugged. “We will keep an eye on him. If he tries something, the Luna Cult will step in. Just promise me you won’t go after him unless he does something worthy of your attention.”
I cursed softly under my breath. Why the hell should I promise anything to him? Jonathan was a goddamn werewolf. He may have promised in his letter never to reveal my location, reveal who I was, but he was still the enemy. I had to keep reminding myself that, and it was really starting to piss me off.
“I can’t promise that,” I said. “If he steps in my way, I will be forced to take care of him.”
Jonathan and I sat quietly at our table for a long time. I tried the beer once more but gave up on it. It wasn’t sitting well in my stomach. I felt like I was going to puke and I didn’t know why.
“I have your things,” Jonathan said. He reached down beside him and picked up a bundle. “I think this is everything.”
I took the bundle from him and glanced at its contents. My coat was there, as was my gun and two knives. Damn it. He was making it even harder to hate him with every moment.
“Thanks,” I muttered setting my things beside me.
We stared at our beers, refusing to meet one another’s eye. We had barely survived a fight for our lives together, and yet this seemed to be the hardest thing we had ever done. Why the hell was I feeling so awkward?
“Thank you,” he said after awhile. “For everything you have done.”
“I did it for myself. Not for you, not for the Cult, and sure as hell not for Adrian Davis.”
“Still,” he said. “The Luna Cult as a whole owes you our thanks. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
I shrugged off his thanks and resumed staring at my beer. Why was I still there? I had my things back, and it seemed like we had both said all we needed to say. I could up and leave anytime I wanted. I could put all of this behind me. My life would be the better for it.
But I sat there, unable or unwilling to move. It didn’t feel right to turn my back on him. Not now. Maybe not ever. We had worked well together, as much as I hated to admit it. Sure, things could have gone better, but in the end, we had won. House Tremaine was no more. The Luna Cult was safe and intact.
And more importantly, I was alive.
Eventually, Jonathan pushed away from the table and stood. He favored his left leg slightly, leaning to the right. I didn’t ask him what had happened. He would heal eventually. I might be grudgingly accepting of him now, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way forever.
“If you ever need anything from the Cult, feel free to get in touch. You will always be welcome in the Den as long as you don’t bring violence with you. No one will stop you, not even Pablo.” I could hear the smile in his voice as the last.
Jonathan took a deep breath and looked around the room. No one was watching us. He turned back to me, head lowered, and then pulled back his hood. I couldn’t stop the gasp that rose to my lips.
His head was whole, round like it should. It was the same face I remembered, just complete. His glamour hid his bruises, hid the hideous scar on the right side of his face. Seeing him like he was meant to be was like looking at an entirely different person. I had to admit, he looked good that way, though a deep part of me wasn’t so sure I liked seeing him as a real person.
He smiled and it looked genuine. “Thank you,” he said as he lifted his hood, covering his face. “You have shown me more than anyone what I should be. I can never thank you enough for the life you have given me.”
I sat speechless. What could I possibly say to that? I wasn’t a hero or someone’s savior. I was a killer. Deep down, I knew eventually I would lose my humanity because of what I did. It was only a matter of time.
But right then, it didn’t matter. His praise felt good, though I would never admit it.
Jonathan’s hand fell on mine, and even though I knew I should, I didn’t move it. It felt warm, solid. “I hope to hear from you again,” he said. The calluses on his palms felt strangely exhilarating against the back of my hand. “May peace find you, Lady Death.” He whispered the last so softly I almost didn’t hear it.
He turned and walked out of The Bloody Stake without another word. I watched him go, wanting to say something, but incapable of speech. When he was gone, I found myself alone, fingering the back of my hand where he had touched me. The sensation of his hand on mine was gone, vanished like moonlight at the dawn, but the memory of his touch lingered, scored itself deep into my mind.
That couldn’t be good.
I gathered my things and walked out of the bar, knowing that even though Count Tremaine was dead, things were definitely not okay.
I wasn’t so sure they would ever be right again.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
the next Kat Redding novel,
TAINTED NIGHT, TAINTED BLOOD
coming in July 2012!
the next Kat Redding novel,
TAINTED NIGHT, TAINTED BLOOD
coming in July 2012!
1
The body lay crumpled in the driveway, a heap of cloth that could have been anything if not for the distinctive smell that drifted on the light breeze. If I had simply been driving by, minding my own business, I might not have even noticed it. It was halfway up the paved drive, almost blended in with the darkness.
But I
had
been looking for it, and the corpse assured me I was in the right place.
had
been looking for it, and the corpse assured me I was in the right place.
Countess Telia was known for her cruelty. She hadn’t been active very long, at least as a minor power of her own. She was the head of one of the newest Fledgling Houses, a vampire who tortured dozens of Purebloods to the point of insanity just for the fun of it. Once she was done with her playthings, she would release them, letting her victims return to their families to suffer their final days crippled and mindless.
It appeared this time she had gone too far.
I parked my modified Honda DN-01 just off the road and hid it behind some trees. The motorcycle was completely black, including the piping, so it would be hard for anyone who wasn’t expressly looking for it to see it. Even a vampire would have a hard time picking it out of the shadows.
A dog barking in the distance was the only sound as I slipped into the brush. I crouched down, listening and watching for any sign of pursuit. House Telia was deep within vampire-controlled territory, so the chances of someone spotting me were actually pretty good. I wanted to make sure none of the local vamps or wolves decided to follow the girl on the motorcycle, looking to have a little bit of fun.
As far as I could tell, no one had followed me. I breathed a sigh of relief and drew my sword. The demon-crafted blade shone in the moonlight, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter now. By the time Telia saw me coming, it would be too late.
The gun came next. My modified Glock 17 fit comfortably in my hand. The bullets were made of silver, and thanks to Ethan’s modifications, they wouldn’t pass all the way through a supe’s body. They moved too slowly for that.
I rose from my crouch, careful not to let my leather creak in the all-too-silent night. I was dressed in full-on black. It was my usual work attire. It just wouldn’t do to run around fighting vampires wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. I had an image to keep up.
I slipped from the cover of the trees and started up the driveway. The body was just a hump on the paved surface, barely discernible as anything other than a pile of bloody rags. I could smell death on the air and knew this victim had been tortured to the point where there would probably be little left.
I approached, wary nonetheless. Even though I was pretty sure the victim was dead, I nudged her with my foot and touched the silver blade to her flesh to be sure.
Nothing happened.
The dead girl’s shirt was shredded in the front, and there was blood everywhere. She had been torn from groin to sternum by what looked to be werewolf claws. It wasn’t exactly Telia’s style, but I wouldn’t put it past her to give a young girl like this to one of her wolves. She had to keep her minions loyal somehow.
Countess Telia was new, a recent break-off from one of the Major Houses. Mikael Engelbrecht, my snitch, hadn’t been able to tell me which Major House she had come from, but he implied it was one of the biggies. He would have told me more, but he was in the pay of the Count or Countess Telia once belonged to, so he refused to divulge any more than he had to. I didn’t like it, but I had to respect his loyalty to his customers, especially since I was one of them.
Still, that didn’t stop him from telling me about Telia’s exploits, how she had cut the arms and legs off one of her victims and dumped him outside his home, his wounds sewn closed so he wouldn’t bleed out. His tongue and eyelids had been removed, as were his nipples, ears, and any other dangly bits that she could get to with a knife. He survived in body, although his mind was long gone.
Why she hadn’t been killed by the Major House she ditched was beyond me. Vampires didn’t like it when their underlings defected. A vamp thinking she could leave a Major House to start her own usually turned up dead within an hour of making her claim.
But there Telia was, torturing victims and reveling in their blood just like any other baby vamp, albeit a more violent one. I was there to put a stop to it.
I left the body where I found it and started up the drive, keeping close to the trees so anyone who would happen to glance out a window wouldn’t see my approach. I moved in near silence, my vampire-light feet barely making a sound on the pavement. I’d even learned to minimize the sound of leather with my walk. Being a vampire had its advantages at times.
It wasn’t until I was halfway up the driveway that I noticed the other bodies. All of the lights in the house were blazing, including the outside light. It spilled out over the corpses, illuminating them like actors on a stage. I could see the dark stain of blood against the black pavement.
I froze and gave the house a good long look. One body, I expected. Three was a bit much.
I hadn’t noticed it before because I hadn’t really looked, but the front door was torn nearly off its hinges. The window beside it was intact, but the curtains were hanging at an angle, as if someone had tried to tear them down.
And there were no sounds, no moving shadows that told me where Telia or her minions were. Had her little torture party turned into something much more deadly? I had no idea what she did in there most nights. It was entirely possible she had set three Purebloods loose, sicking her wolves on them for pure entertainment.
If so, then where was she? I should have seen a flicker of a shadow, heard the howl of a wolf. She would have wanted to watch the events as they took place.
I approached the two other bodies, keeping my gaze on the house as I went. They could be in there, watching me. The night was still young, so I was sure they hadn’t bedded down for the day.
The first corpse turned out to be another Pureblood, this one male. He had been stripped naked and lay in a pool of his own blood. His ribs showed through flesh pulled tight, as if he had been starved before being released. His stomach had been ripped open and his throat slashed.
I nudged him like I had the other corpse to make sure he was really dead. Sometimes it was hard to tell between a Pureblood and a young werewolf or vampire. It was possible this was some sort of initiation rite that Telia cooked up for her newest recruits. Torture them, let them bleed a while, and then take them in.
But this guy was definitely dead. If she had tried to turn him, she had started the process far too late.
The last body was a few paces away, and at first, I thought he was wearing a fur coat. As I got closer, I realized that wasn’t the case and alarm bells started ringing in my head in earnest.
The werewolf was lying facedown, his head a few inches from his body. The cut was ragged, as if it had taken a few hacks to cut through the wolf’s thick neck. There were marks on his arms and shoulder where he had tried to protect himself.
It hadn’t helped. The wolf had been hamstrung, making him an easy target for whomever had done this. I wasn’t sure if Telia had done it herself or if someone else was involved. Either way, I didn’t like it.
I hurried to the front of the house and pressed my back to the wall. The place wasn’t large by vampire standards. It was bigger than where I lived, but not by much. Countess Telia still had a ways to go before she could move up to the mansions the other Counts and Countesses preferred.
I crept along the wall to the nearest window and peeked in. Furniture lay strewn across the room. A mirror had been smashed, leaving shards of bloody glass all over the floor. A glass coffee table had been shattered as well, adding to the destruction.
And there was blood everywhere.
My stomach rumbled as my inner demon made itself known. I hadn’t fed for over a week and it was starting to get to me. I really should have hunted before coming. Then again, I hadn’t expected to find bodies lying around with blood splattered all over the walls.
I fought the urge to feed, pushed it as deep as I could. The blood was probably tainted anyway. To taste it would be to risk contaminating myself further.
I slipped past the window to the door. I still had yet to see any movement from within. It was entirely possible Countess Telia had been attacked by a rogue wolf or two and was out chasing down the last of them. She could return at any time.
Or she could be inside, bathing in the blood of her victims. It was hard to tell with vamps, especially ones like her.
I stepped around the corner and into the house, my gun leading the way.
There was blood on the floor just inside the door, but there were no bodies. One of the dead outside could have been wounded here before staggering out into the driveway to die.
Either that or whoever had been injured here was somewhere farther in the house, wounded and angry.
I worked my way deeper, checking each room as I passed. The living room I had seen from the window was to my left, and I paid it only a casual glance as I passed by. The dining room and kitchen were likewise empty, though I did find what looked to be an ear lying on the kitchen counter. Whomever it belonged to wasn’t anywhere to be found.
There were two other rooms on the ground floor, but I had yet to come across any sign that anyone was alive inside. I still had the basement and the upstairs to canvas, yet something told me I wouldn’t find anyone in the house. For whatever reason, Countess Telia wasn’t home.
Still, I headed for the stairs. I would check the place over first, freeing any Purebloods I found, and then would wait for Telia to return. I couldn’t let her continue her torturous ways. Not in my town.
From the bottom of the stairs, I could see what appeared to be a man’s boot resting beside a bloody wall. I slowly made my way up the stairs sideways, keeping my gun trained just above the boot in case the guy sat up.
I needn’t have bothered. The boot turned out not to be connected to anyone. The hallway behind it was empty of everything but blood. I stepped around the boot and just happened to glance back at it as I passed.
There was a foot inside.
The alarm bells in my head weren’t just ringing now; they were clanging so loudly, my ears rang with the phantom sound. Something was definitely wrong here.
The first room on my right turned out to be a bathroom. The owner of the foot was inside, lying on the floor, a bloody mess. His head lay in the tub, severed from his body much like the wolf’s had been. The job had been sloppy, most likely performed with a dull blade. The dead man’s mouth was wide, exposing two extended fangs.
I looked around the bathroom in the hopes of finding something that wound identify the victim. I didn’t know what Telia’s lone vampire minion looked like. If this was him, then something truly bad had happened here, and by the smell, it hadn’t happened too long ago.
I left the bathroom, body thrumming with excitement. Had the Major House come down on Telia after all? Or was it someone else? Could another House have decided they’d had enough of the Fledgling vamp and her torturous ways? Or another Fledgling House could have come after her, looking to make themselves stronger.
A surge of anger coursed through my body. If Mikael held out on me because he knew Telia’s old House was coming after her, I was going to be pissed. What if I had shown up while the killing was going on? I might have been caught in the middle of a fight between vamps and wolves from a Major House and Telia’s own. I could have been killed.
I wasn’t positive that was what happened. Most vampires didn’t fight with swords, let alone dull ones. They would have sent werewolves to finish the job. A few well-placed bullets would have wounded Telia and her minions; then the wolves could have torn them apart at their leisure.
This was different somehow. I wasn’t quite sure how, but I knew something else was going on. Had Telia tired of her House? Had she killed everyone in an orgy of blood and torture?
I crept down the hall, checking each room as I passed. There was no one inside, and I had yet to hear the slightest sound. I could taste blood where my fangs had started pushing through in my excitement.
The door to the last room of the house was hanging open. As I neared, I could smell the blood coming from inside. Someone was dead in there. More than one someone by the smell of it.
I neared, and as the massacre inside came into view, I knew things had definitely gotten out of hand.
Countess Telia lay sprawled across her bed. At least most of her did. One of her arms was lying on the floor just inside the door, and her head was lying under the window. She was naked and was propped atop the dead Pureblood tied to the bed beneath her.
I stepped over the arm and another body, this one a werewolf, came into view. The wolf was fully shifted, but his body was nothing but a bloody pulp of entrails and muscle. It looked like something had fed on his intestines.
“What the fuck?” I said, scanning the room. Now that I was farther in, I could see what had killed the Pureblood under Telia. His face was gone, having been chewed away by something. I had a feeling he’d been alive when Telia had been riding him.
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