Blackthorne (The Brotherhood of the Gate Book 1) (16 page)

Houston didn’t break eye contact with their rescuer. “Her name is Pearl DeVere and she’s got to be about 150 years old. I spent the morning pouring over old photos of her,” he said and, after a moment of hesitation, addressed Rhi, “and photos of a girl who looks amazingly like Rhi but was named Raven. Rhi, you’re the spitting image of a tuberculosis victim and witch from Manitou Springs who lived and died over 120 years ago. The girl who fought Manius. Raven Blackthorne.”

Again, the silent editor of Rhi’s mind numbed Houston’s words and she twisted her hands trying to think of the things that made her happy. Hot cocoa, flannel sheets on a snowy night, the softness of Ellie Mae’s fur, good books, Blackthorne’s bluest eyes with the little crinkles in the corner that were deeper when he smiled…
wait a minute, how did that thought get in there
?

“I am 149, flyboy,” Pearl corrected Houston as she tossed her curtain of auburn hair over her shoulder…a perfectly executed hair flip that had probably taken decades to perfect. “I’ve been in and out of this town for years and no one but a few well-chosen friends have had the slightest clue who I was…until now.”

Houston had the grace to look abashed for a moment. “And
I
would have thought that you had a stunning resemblance to her before I saw that fight in the bar and those glowing eyes and your friend Manius’ pointy teeth. But if you are, what I am assuming is our definition of a vampire, why can you hold a cross?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m one of the
good
undead, sweetie. The things that affect the bad guys only slightly annoy me. And, of course, I had gloves on. I also am a
cold
creature of the night, so can we go inside before my undead toes fall off?”

“Shouldn’t we be worried about those beasties showing up here?” Pam asked nervously, looking out at the quiet street.

Pearl looked offended. “Of course I have taken certain safeguards for my home, for goodness sake. Besides, Manius is done playing for the night. At least, he is done playing with
us
.”

“Well that’s good to know,” Pam muttered, “I think this is the week I’ll give in to my mother and let Katie stay longer on the ranch. What do you think, Rhi?”

Pearl spoke before Rhi could work up the nerve to answer. “That’s a good idea my friend. But distance won’t matter if Manius gets what he wants. We are
all
doomed then.”

Pam made a face at Pearl’s retreating back.

Fighting shock, they all filed after her, except for Rhi and Blackthorne. Pam glanced over her shoulder at them, then smiled and shook her head at Houston, who looked as if he wanted to go retrieve Rhi from Blackthorne’s clutches.

Traitor
, Rhi thought,
does she want to see my sucked dry carcass lying here
?

“You aren’t a modern day descendent of that knight I read about, are you?” She asked the question in what she thought were steady tones, looking cautiously down at the large hand that held her arm in an unbreakable grip.

“No.” He moved so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek in the dimly lit garage. He was a predator standing above her, waiting for her to fall.

“And your brother didn’t
just
steal the skull from you, did he?”

“No.”

“Are you going to make a meal out of me? I drink a lot of tequila and Yoo-hoo. I bet I taste awful.” Her voice was shaky and small in the open air of the garage. She could smell the scent of him, leather and spice with the sweat of adrenaline from the fight mixed in.

He reached and took her other arm, pulling her against him. She pushed helplessly at the warm wall of his chest. The brief thought fluttered by that if Blackthorne was undead, shouldn’t his body be
cold
? But then he leaned down, hesitating over her face. Then he kissed her, crushing her mouth with his lips. It was primitive, violent and angry. His hands spanned the arch of her back, pulling her against the cashmere, leather, and denim of him. Rhi couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her body caught fire like Pike’s Peak National forest in fire season. Lust roared through her mind. There were no thoughts of self-preservation or fear of the future. There was one other person in the world at that moment. One indescribable need forced its way through her veins. She felt herself falling and didn’t begin to trust that he would catch her. Her hands clung to his arms without her permission.

A voice shrieked in the back of her brain to break free and run for the door. The voice got louder when she realized she could feel his sharper-than-a-human’s incisors rub her mouth every other movement. She tasted the blood that marked his lips from the earlier battle. The only reason she hadn’t tumbled to the floor was that he was holding her up. Blackthorne made her seethe with an ache she hadn’t had in a while. He broke off and pushed her from him. Rhi flopped to the concrete floor beside the truck to sit for a moment, stunned and gasping for more than air.

“You taste okay to me,” Blackthorne said and pulled her to her feet to hustle her toward the house that was lit up more brilliantly than Rhi’s own mountain retreat. She put one hand to her swollen lips and then wiped the single tear that found its way down her cheek. Then she was angry.

“Yeah? Well next time you might think about retracting those fangs first,” she sniped. “If I want to kiss a canine, I have a 110 pound bloodhound at home that worships me.”

There was no answer from her captor. Again she tried to wrench herself from his grasp without success. She eyed the front of his jeans speculatively and wondered if he was too tall for her to get a good kick into his crotch.
I’m too short and he’s too tall,
Rhi thought despairingly and cast her eyes downward to hide her thoughts from those probing eyes.

She faced the glass paneled oak front door with both a sense of wonder and fear. The etched swirls in the glass panels framed a large, stylized “P” and “D” in each panel. A holly wreath entwined with grapevine encircled the initials. A quick glance told her that every window she could easily see on the house was garlanded with holly and pine even though Christmas was weeks past. A deterrent?

Maybe a visit to the local florist is in order for the A-frames of Horse Thief Gulch.

Her captor’s gloved hand reached around her to open the door. Blackthorne firmly guided her into the inner sanctum of the 149 year-old most famous madam west of the Mississippi. She managed one more glance behind her as he pushed her onward and noticed that the entire wrought iron fence surrounding the house now glowed faintly the same color as the eyes of her captors. She thought fleetingly of Ellie Mae’s anxious face waiting for her at home, comfortable in her heated kennel. She hoped if she didn’t make it back Bobby Wayne would take care of her dog. Then Blackthorne shut the door behind them both, closing out the night.

The group in the magnificent foyer was still and silent as Rhi and Jack joined them. Pam’s face was as white as snow when she turned to Rhi, her normally cheerful expression filled with something resembling awe.

Rhi looked about to see what was so dismaying to her friend. The professionally lit portrait of a gold rush era couple dominated the wall beside the polished staircase. She registered the white wedding gown of the thin girl who stood proudly by a Victorian wing chair where her groom was seated. Rhi squinted for a moment, adjusting her eyes to the subdued lighting of the period chandelier that hung precariously near Blackthorne’s head. It was such a handsome head and looked even better as the painter had portrayed it in his wedding picture on the wall. He was dressed in a black suit of a bygone era, smiling happily as he gazed up at his tiny wife, who had Rhi’s face and eyes and hair. Rhi managed one fleeting thought before the visions took over:
The next woman who shows up in this town with my face is gonna get her ass kicked.

And then there was blood, fountains of blood against the snow, the scent of a charnel house mixed with the scent of pine and gasoline. Shrieks of agony, that held a note of death and damnation, sounded in the forest.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she ungracefully fell to the floor. “Dying, they’re dying in the woods, all of them are dying.” She could feel Blackthorne’s hands cradling her head and hear Pam’s frantic voice. And then she knew nothing but the blissful dark.

»»•««

Nate Evans pulled his beaten up 1978 International Scout up behind the several other vehicles in the open area off in Four Mile road, carefully maneuvering the snowmobile trailer attached to the hitch of his vehicle to an advantageous spot to unload his sparkling new Polaris. The snowmobile was his pride and joy. A small crowd stood off in the clearing near a roaring bonfire and passed about several bottles of generic peppermint schnapps. The roar of several other snowmobiles sounded in the background and the clearing was crisscrossed with the track marks of some of the most righteous sleds in the Pike’s Peak region.

He unloaded the sleek black vehicle and sauntered to the group near the fire, adjusting the various mismatched layers of fleece and down adorning his lanky body. He had his own flask of bourbon safely tucked into one of the pockets on his heavy camouflage pants and worn over two pairs of thermal long johns this lovely winter’s evening. The visitation at the funeral home had been a spirit killer. But a few drinks and spins on the fastest ride in town would put his soul to rights.

Dan Brown raised his chin at Nate’s approach in both challenge and greeting. Nate knew Dan was eating his own liver in jealousy over the new sled parked behind them. He grinned brightly at the other man and pulled his flask out for a swig. “So Dan…ready for a little action?”

Dan handed the bottle of bourbon he’d been sipping on to his girlfriend, Kim, and stalked silently toward his machine. As he walked, he briskly pulled on the expensive gloves he had obviously chosen to coordinate with his entirely black ski ensemble. “Let’s go, redneck,” he shot back over his shoulder. “Let’s see if you can do anything with that thing besides keep it clean and shiny. It’s a shame you couldn’t make that kind of an effort with your personal hygiene.”

Nate ignored the jibe and winked at one of the better-looking girls in the group as he passed by. She had some definite possibilities for the evening, if her skintight black ski pants told the right story. The pants probably didn’t keep the night air from making the girl’s legs numb. She would need someone to warm those lean thighs up later.

The rest of the group busied themselves calling out encouragement and advice. Two others headed for their machines to join in.

Nate mounted up, buttoning and fastening his clothing as tightly as possible against the steel knife cold of the night. “We’ll go out to the five mile marker and back, Dan. Is that good for you?”

Dan grunted and gunned the two-cycle engine in reply. The only starting signal given was the crunch of the treads into the snow and the flicker of the bonfire as they sped past the rest of the group, into the curtain of darkness that ran in front of the trail through the woods.

Nate felt the bite of the air around the edges of his goggles and strained to see outside the edges of the light cast onto the path by the headlight of the Polaris. The trail was well-packed, and the white glow of the snow in between the trees gave the landscape an eerie blue glow in the light of the stars. He came around the first of several sharp turns with Dan trying to take him on the inside and the others bringing up the rear. The adrenaline sang in his blood as Nate took the trail not by nibbles but by gulps. He was as close to flying as he could be and remain earthbound. He leaned into the snowmobile, keeping his weight as low as possible for top speed, concentrating on the trail. Nate didn’t notice that the white of the snow now showed the outlines of moving forms against it, here and there, that darted from bush to tree. Large, bulging eyes that glowed with red fire watched the lights of the retreating snowmobiles and then turned toward the light of the bonfire and the shadows surrounding it. Oversized nostrils took brief sniffs of the smell of peppermint schnapps and pot that floated in the air along with the sound of laughter.

»»•««

Kim turned her back toward the heat of the bonfire and looked out at the surrounding trees, brush, and stone of the land. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust from the light of the fire to the glow of the snow. The shadow form of a tall man stood in the snow, watching her with interest. The long overcoat and turtleneck she could make out in the flickering light marked him as an outsider. She caught the scent of expensive cologne the same moment she saw the flash of his white teeth against the backdrop of the night forest. He was emanating a sexual vibe that sent happy chills down her back until she caught the first whiff of death in the air.
Damn it. A great moment where I am about to finally meet someone interesting and something dead is rotting around here.

Then she saw the first demon. It was standing on a large flat boulder beside the newcomer, outside of the circle of light. Both beings stared at her. Long knifelike claws dangled from the smaller creature’s impossibly jointed hands. She froze as she questioned her sanity and wondered what had been added to the drugs and drink of the evening. The glowing red eyes of what appeared to be a naked winged creature stared back at her. Then it rose into the air beside its master, whose eyes now also glowed with blood red light. The demon seemed to be suspended by its membranous wings and some unseen wind as it floated toward her. The man behind it began to laugh.

Trapped in the stupor of drink and smoke, Kim stood on the edge of the light and stared in horror at the apparition as it approached her. The creature’s huge mouth stretched into a grotesque grin, exposing pointed and stained teeth. One of the other women walked out to stand beside her.

“What are you staring at so hard out there? Is Bigfoot wandering around this evening?” Cathy queried as she stared over Kim’s shoulder into the woods. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness after the light of the fire yet. “Is that an escaped pit boss out there in the snow? Where did that guy come from? And what…”