Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) (20 page)

Anca remained stiffly unaffected, and the only one standing. At Jordan's nod, she outlined her plan. "Vampires are nocturnal. Our greatest power lies at the darkest of night. Sirens are the opposite. She'll be recovered and back on the hunt by sunrise. I hurt her earlier, so she's going to be hungry. If we don't have an enticing trap setup before then, she'll be drawn to the heaviest concentration of people."

Shane scowled. "She's not to get into town. There's no way we can protect everyone."

Sitting back, Matt asked, "Where do we set a trap to ensure the siren will be lured to it?" Again he pictured a huge, warty anglerfish squatting in the middle of Moss Creek, eating a line of people willingly walking into its cavernous toothy maw.

Anca replied, "She was in the forest between clan lands and the town earlier." She glanced at Shane. "Did your men finish searching the area?"

"For the most part. We know Montgomery used the cave systems all around town. It stands to reason his remaining Rogues are as well. Problem is, it would take years to search them all. We've kept eyes on the places we know the vampire used. His followers seem to be smart enough to stay away from them."

Not all of them. Matt replied, "But they're still using some of the buildings outfitted with their torture devices. Did we figure out who's been guarding the rail station?"

Jordan replied, "The information should be to me soon."

"Caves," Anca said loudly. "Odds are the Rogue's central hideout is somewhere in the caves. We found the wolf shifter, which I believe was one of two lieutenants to a child Master. A girl, only ten or so years old. Her magic was immense, and all I was looking at was a leftover impression of power."

"Child vampire, ye say?" Jezamine asked, tracing a finger through the air. "Must be strong if she commands a siren." The old witch stood, addressing them all in a soft but echoing voice. "I know the trap this one wants be setting. Six we be. Sixteen more we need."

Anca added, "Sharpshooters, if you have them, decent with a rifle."

Sharpshooters? She wanted to shoot the creature? Bullets tended to have little effect on the Arcaine, which she'd know as well as Matt.

Jordan only gave her an odd look and promised her the men.

Watching Anca, Matt asked, "What exactly is this spell?"

She turned to the witch. "You brought all I need?"

Jezamine nodded.

As if looking forward to the coming fight, excitement blushed Anca's cheeks. "This is going to either be great, or horrible."

Not exactly the resounding endorsement he'd expected.

***

A
fter Anca summarized the complex magic behind the trap, and each of their jobs, the room emptied. Jordan and Dalia headed to recruit the others they'd need. Shane had things to do, but would meet them at the appointed time, an hour before dawn, in the chosen area of the forest between the caves and Moss Creek.

Which left the room empty but for Anca, Matt and Jezamine.

"
Bunică
." Grandmother, Anca called her again, though they weren't blood relations. She'd met Jezamine a handful of times in her life, the first as a young girl. The
vrăjitoare
, or white witch, had been ancient five hundred years ago.

Even now, Anca couldn't figure out what type of Arcaine she might be. Nor had she ever been able to see the witch's aura.

Jezamine took her hand. "I need be talking to ye."

Anca shot a look at Matt. With the attack plans no longer occupying her mind, all she could think about was the first message in the
Seer's
bones.

Matt waved at the door. "I have things to do. The two of you should enjoy the gardens. They're lovely this time of night."

He strode out, leaving Anca breathing a sigh of relief. She spun on the old woman. "You told me a long time ago that Fate would not meddle in my affairs."

"Nay, child." Jezamine led her from the room, and down the hall. "I told ye the fates saw ye not yet. That was time and time ago. They see ye now. And clearly."

Frustration welled inside Anca, but she kept quiet as they crossed the elegant, if a bit grandiose, marble foyer. Down another hall, through an immense kitchen, and out a back door.

Moonlight shone bright on the gardens. The fully blooming flowers were stunning at night, as Matt had said.

Surrounding her and Jezamine, numerous earth spirits sparked, their magic the strongest Anca had seen since coming here.

They flowed around the
vrăjitoare
, glinting in bright colors reflecting their joy at being near the witch, energized by Jezamine's strange magic.

The old woman led Anca deeper into the maze-like rows of flowers. The petals almost glowed beneath the moon and stars.

At the moment, Anca barely saw any of the beauty. "Well then, how do I get fate to stop meddling?" she demanded. "I don't have the time, the need or the desire for some destined mate."

Jezamine just watched her inscrutably. Her dark eyes held so much emotion and knowledge, it took Anca's breath away.

"Come." Jezamine led her deeper into the gardens.

The scents of so many blooms wrapped around them. Finally, Jezamine stopped to stare at a couple rows.

The air spun around Anca, transporting her back through time, to a long ago place. She stared with wonder at the
paeonia tenuifolia
. Romanian peonies. Tall, leafy fern like bushes held large red flowers filled with multiple yellow centers.

The
vrăjitoare's
voice drew Anca like a spell. "Even far from home, many things be alive. Ye are one to always thrive through change, girl."

"How does the clan have these here?" The large fragrant flowers had been her and her sister's favorites when they were children. Anca had travelled around the world and never seen them anywhere other than the area of her birth.

Jezamine continued walking without answering.

They passed beneath latticed arches with climbing dog rose, also native to her homeland. Petals in light and dark shades of pink and white added their heavy scent to the night.

It was said that certain smells could bring memories close enough to touch. Anca shied away from them, instead.

Jezamine stopped again, this time in front of a fountain containing a voluptuous mermaid. Carved scales shimmered in colored hues. Long locks of hair fell to hide generously abundant breasts. Stone benches sat around the fountain. Jezamine passed them to sit on the wide rim of the water.

Staring into the rippling pool, she waved Anca to join her.

Anca remained on her feet.

Getting back to the stupidity of the fates, she said, "I'm telling you, I don't have time. Besides, Matt doesn't even know who I am. A Judge. The man barely tolerates me as is knowing I come from the Council."

Jezamine didn't reply, just continued to watch the water as if a movie played across the surface, snaring all her attention.

After a long moment, Anca sighed and sat beside the woman.

The
vrăjitoare
finally looked at her. "Has five centuries of near solitude not been enough for ye?"

"It's not that." A rush of conflicting feelings twisted Anca's stomach. "I..."

"Aye, girl?"

"I like being alone." She didn't have the courage to meet Jezamine's gaze after that statement, though it was mostly true. The ache in her heart reflected the more important reason. As if irresistibly drawn, Anca stared into the dark depths of the witch's gaze. The deepest of truths fell from her lips. "I don't want to lose anyone else. To go through such pain. Not ever again."

Jezamine nodded softly. "Which be why they brought ye this one. He be powerful and strong, yet holds a softness ye need."

Anca highly doubted Matt had any softness inside him.

Or that she needed such a thing. "I'm here to do a job. Once it's done, I've promised to help the Keeper cleanse the area. Then I'll return to the Council, and home." Her voice was confident and sure.

"Home?" Jezamine sat straighter, her gaze piercing. "Ye have a home?"

Anca shrugged. No. She hadn't considered anywhere her true home, not since her family had been ripped from her, one by one. They had been her home.

Since then, she'd allowed few into her heart enough to truly connect with them. The vampire who'd turned her. Elder Endulpias. A handful of others.

But she didn't consider any of them home, not like her family had been.

"It doesn't matter," Anca finally managed to reply. "I have somewhere I belong, and that's enough."

"Is it? Truly, girl?" Jezamine's gaze pierced Anca.

"It's enough for me."

The old woman grinned, watching silently.

Anca changed the subject. "Where are all my supplies? I'd like to double check everything while we have time."

Jezamine chuckled. "Ye think me feeble in old age, or ye want away from me?"

Ignoring the second part of the question, Anca replied, "Well, I don't know. How old are you?"

The
vrăjitoare's
laugh turned to a cackle. "Never ye be minding about that." Jezamine directed her to the other side of the castle and a row of long, stone outbuildings.

At the first one, she knocked twice as she'd been told to do.

The door opened and a vampire peered out. A tall blond man looked her over. "You're the Council chick?"

Biting back a snort, she replied, "I'm from the Magic Council, yes."

He nodded and let her inside.

Everything she needed sat on long metal tables, in containers labeled and ready for travel. Running down her mental list, Anca verified the ingredients for the spells and planned wards. Off to the side, away from the rest, were containers of additional herbs, along with some of the few toxins known to hurt a siren—including belladonna and foxglove, and a few other ancient plants only found in the gardens of a powerful witch.

Like Jezamine.

Combined in a complicated ratio of alcohol and mixed herbs, the concoction would be potent and powerful only for a short time.

The sixteen extra men she'd asked MacDougal for would not only help power the magic needed for the trap, they'd have tranquilizer guns and darts filled with the mixture. After luring the Siren from the forest, the goal would be to hit the creature as many times as possible.

It wouldn't kill her, but Anca's hope was that it might at least slow her down. Boxes with sixteen specially rigged guns lay on the last table, along with over a thousand darts.

Well, the witch had said she'd brought extra supplies.

Just in case.

Somehow, Jezamine had even found a large chain created from special Council metal and magic. Dark gray, nearly black, with obsidian stones studded through thick links, the chain would make the perfect boundary for the containment circle they'd need.

And so much better than the fourth ward Anca had thought to use.

After sorting through everything a second time, she oversaw the packing. Soon, vampires inundated the building, carrying the supplies out to be loaded into vehicles and taken to the trap site.

Once the room lay empty, Anca found herself meandering through the gardens again, continuing to run through all her preparations.

This time of year, dawn came to the mountains right around six a.m. She'd need a few hours at the site to setup and prepare their trap. Create the wards. Mixing the tranquilizer for the dart guns had to be done last minute. They'd need every second they could steal in order to succeed.

She drifted through flowers until finding herself back at the voluptuous fountain.

Water glinted with sparks of moonlight. Anca sat on one of the benches, watching the flow of water and the endless sky above it.

The spirits of the earth danced around her in a soft symphony of magical lights and auras. They stirred the air, and somehow, brought the fragrant scents of flowers from her homeland, the Romanian peonies, the dog roses. It soothed her in small ways she hadn't realized had been irritated and sore.

After long moments, she settled. She'd prepared as well as she could.

Still, to pull this off, they'd need quite a bit of luck.

Matt's masculine mint scent tantalized her seconds before she heard his soft steps. He stopped behind her. "Jezamine leave?"

"A while ago. She's probably around the castle somewhere if you need to talk to her."

"I don't."

He sat beside her. His arm brushed her skin, his leg pressed along hers.

Anca's throat went dry. A thumping in her ears pounded out of nowhere.

Her heartbeat.

"It never ends, does it?" Matt's husky voice tripled the shivers racing up and down her spine.

"What never ends?"

"Darkness. Evil."

There was no easy or simple answer to that question.

"W
e took care of Montgomery and a damned demon sorcerer showed up." Matt started at the fountain, fisted hands on his thighs. "We rid the world of that bastard and Montgomery's remaining Rogues take over."

Sparks of moonlight highlighted the regret and despair darkening his honey brown eyes.

Before Anca realized what she was doing, she laid a hand over one of his tight fists. "When I was little, my
tată
, my father, taught me that as long as there are those who fight for the light, who protect the good and the innocent, evil will never be able to win."

Matt jerked his chin in negation. "Perhaps not. But how much does it really matter when faced with all those that we were unable to save?" Old pains tinged his voice.

"You've lost many," she said.

It wasn't a question, but Matt slowly nodded.

Though Anca rarely shared such things, the words spilled from her lips. "You know the history of the Romani in the early and mid sixteenth century?"

"Some. As you know, my sire brought his clan to the new world." Bitterness coated his words.

The weight of his curiosity settled on Anca.

"I've heard more. Quite recently. Some of it pertaining to you, in fact."

"Your Keeper of the Peace, I suppose?"

"He only wanted to assure me you wouldn't..."