Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) (32 page)

Matt stopped only a few feet away from the two at the table.

The wolf grumbled, reaching for Matt's arm.

Ready, centered, his strength a fire in his gut, Matt let the wolf grab him. Then he sprung into action.

He gripped the shifter's wrist and sidestepped, jerking the man forward.

Unprepared for resistance, the guy stumbled closer. Right into Matt's fist.

He shoved the wolf against the wall, grabbed the back of his hair and slammed his head on the rock. Once. Twice. Then he poured his unique sedative spell over the man.

The two vampires grabbed him, ripping him away from the wolf, but the damage was done. The guy slid to the floor, unconscious.

Matt twisted, breaking from their hold and faced them. He crouched low, ready. Waiting.

Still sitting in the cell, Robby sniffled. "Matt?"

Any distraction would cost him. He continued to ignore the boy.

The two vampires shared a look, then separated to approach him from opposite angles. "You fucker," one growled. "How'd you get free of the Mistress's spell?"

With a wall to Matt's back, the only way to go was through them.

He waited for an opening. Then struck. Two fast strikes, and the guy on the left cried out in accompaniment to breaking bone. Matt spun him around and threw him into the other guard, sending them both tripping and falling.

Matt shouted, "Get out of the cell, kid. Now."

Robby's scrabbling movements headed out and toward the tunnel.

The vampires stood, stiff and angry. They stalked Matt, more cautious this time. "The boy ain't going nowhere," Mr. Chatty told him confidently. "He's a special treat for tonight's feast."

"Yeah," the other vampire added with glee. "He's our entertainment. We like it when they scream."

Matt remained silent, unaffected by their goading. The moment he saw another careless opening, he took it.

Chatty blinked, tried to duck.

Matt's fist plowed into his face, shattering his nose, facial bones.

Shrieking in pain, the vampire didn't resist when Matt flung him into the boy's vacated cell. The other guard rushed Matt from behind.

Prepared, he grabbed the guy and flipped him over his back. The vampire landed on the ground with a grunt.

Matt shoved him in the cell, then hurried across to slap the control panel.

The bars slid down, locking the guards inside.

He rushed to Robby and grabbed the kid close to look him over. "You all right?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah." Robby's skin remained pale, clammy, but his eyes were alert and sharp. There weren't any signs of injuries or torture. Physical, anyway.

The kid asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you."

Robby glanced away. "It's Leo. He's the traitor. He had to do it. For Luci."

"We know."

The boy stared at him for a long moment, a myriad of thoughts crashing over his face. Then he shook his head, glanced down at his fisted hands.

Finding out your best friend had turned traitor to your clan, had given you over to the enemy, was a heartbreaking betrayal. One Robby would need time and help to deal with. Unfortunately, they didn't have that time right now.

"You all right for now?" Matt asked.

Robby finally looked up again. This time, the kid's face burned with anger along with the deep hurt. "I'll be fine."

"Good. Then let's get out of here." Matt turned to their surroundings. The place was empty of other prisoners. He secured the unconscious wolf in a second cell.

His skin tingled with the familiar sensation of Anca's earth spirits. From the limited contact he felt there was only one. And it was weak. But still it had appeared.

Here. With him.

It tugged at the warm connection between him and Anca.

"Why are you not with her?" Matt whispered.

"What?" Robby asked.

"Nothing," he muttered.

Had something happened to Anca? A flash of pure rage flushed through him at the terrible thought. He clamped down on it. Centered himself. Now wasn't the time to give into emotion, to allow himself to act rashly. Not if he wanted to get everyone he could out of here alive.

Damn it.

Now was the time for patient thought. He and Robby would find Anca. Keep her safe.

He'd keep them both safe.

The air around him pressed harder, then lightened. Hard. Soft. Hard again. Thrumming echoes that matched his heartbeat.

An inkling in the back of his mind suggested the spirit was trying to communicate, in its limited fashion. He took another breath, and concentrated on his senses.

The clinging earth spirit urged Matt to the only apparent exit, the same tunnel he'd come in through. He didn't hesitate, just grabbed the kid and followed his guide's gentle directions.

They saw no one, though they passed numerous wooden doors with sounds emanating from behind them. Some sexual, some sadistic, just like in the curtained cavern.

They finally reached the torture-dining room. The spirit urged Matt onto the wooden dais and into one of the tunnels behind it. Only a few steps in, he paused, listening intently.

Approaching sounds of the enemy came from ahead.

Matt pushed the kid behind him.

"What is it?" Robby asked quietly.

"Stay out of the way. Keep back from any fighting. And whatever you do, do not let them get a hold of you. Got it?"

Robby swallowed, staring down the tunnel. He slowly nodded.

Matt wanted to tell the boy to run, to get away. But there was no guarantee that guards hadn't been stationed along the route out. He didn't want the kid trying to go through those strange silk curtains alone, either.

Which left the boy staying at his side.

Matt motioned the kid further back just as a large group of heavily armed vampires and other monsters appeared.

Before the enemy could collect themselves, Matt dodged in and took two of them down. An insectile leg slammed into his ribs. Sent him crashing painfully against the slicing rock of stone hard walls.

Pretending the flames of pain didn't exist, Matt leapt to his feet, placing himself between the Rogues and Robby. He readied to take each and every one of them down.

Keep the kid safe. Find Anca. Get them all out of here alive.

Matt would accept nothing less from himself. Demanded it, begged. Even of fate, the very thing which had brought Anca to him.

***

O
liver's fist slammed against the side of Anca's face again. Her head snapped sideways, but no other part of her moved. Eliza's magic kept her from falling. From fighting back.

Eliza perched on the edge of her throne, her feet dangling above the floor. Watched with a bright interest.

Warm blood slid down Anca's chin.

The girl's gaze tracked it. She licked her too-red lips.

Anca had almost figured out the magic pinning her. Except the ideas in her mind were extraordinary.

But... possible.

The tightly bespelling siren magic wasn't complete. And it wasn't entirely siren magic.

Which meant what?

"Mistress?" Oliver asked.

Eliza blinked, then met Anca's gaze. "I'm done asking nicely. You will tell me everything you know about the local clan and their King, and you will tell me now."

"I will?" Anca's words were a bit slurred from her bloody, swollen lips.

"You will."

"Why should I?" If the spell wasn't completely siren magic, then...

Eliza didn't have a second siren. But how could she have this magic with the creature dead? A sudden idea coalesced in a blossoming hope.

Was the girl using some sort of siphon, a magical ability that could steal another's powers?

Anca thought so. Which meant the magic was false. Weak and defeatable.

Right?

With a growl, Eliza snapped her fingers.

Oliver's anvil weighted fist slammed into Anca's temple. Stars flashed around her head in a wavering darkness. She sank a fang deep into her tongue.

Her thoughts finally came back together. She looked up at the girl.

Eliza stared off to the side of the room.

Anca turned her head to the right, gritting her teeth against the sharp flash of pain in her neck and shoulders from the giant's fists.

One of the colored silk curtains had been drawn back to reveal the door Oliver had originally come from. It stood open, shadows spilling out. The giant vampire appeared, striding out with a bright silver chain dangling from one of his massive hands.

And Anca realized the last hit to her head had stolen time from her.

She hadn't even realized Oliver was no longer at her side. Confusion tried to overtake her thoughts. She shoved it away.

Oliver yanked the chain.

An animal yelped from the shadows of the room.

The giant of a vampire jerked again, dragging out a bundle of furiously resisting—if weak and in pain—wolf.

The wolf's claws scrabbled over the rock floor, leaving smears of bloody paw prints behind.

Oliver stopped next to the dais and stared at Eliza with a reverent questioning in his dark, reddened eyes, as if his greatest pleasure would be hearing her command.

The wolf's bright aura said shifter.

And one Anca knew.

The same strange pack-but-not-pack aura greeted her, the same shaggy black fur with dark gray markings she'd seen in her recent street brawl.

The same shifter who'd visited Matt at the hospital, and who she'd tracked to this place.

The Alpha's son. Jake.

Eliza giggled. "Another of my pets. Do you know who he is? Or, well, who he used to be?"

Anca didn't answer.

With a preening grin, Eliza chortled, "I caught myself an Alpha. At least, he will be once the damned pack finishes imploding. It'll be a simple matter to remove anyone else with power and install this one a leader."

Jake stilled as if hearing this bit of news for the first time.

Anca had to wonder just how deep Eliza's machinations ran. The girl obviously had her talons in some of the clan. And some of the pack.

Who knew what else.

But now she, a vampire, wanted to control an entire pack of shifters?

Impossible.

At least it should be.

Yet there had been quite a few impossibilities Anca had smacked up against in this town. Perhaps she'd be wise to not discount anything at this point.

Like this girl somehow being in control of a siphon's magic.

Anca was certain it wasn't Eliza herself.

One of her followers then.

Anca's gaze landed on Oliver, and his aura that she still couldn't completely read.

"I sent my little wolf here into town with specific instructions," Eliza said pleasantly, as if discussing nothing more important than the weather. "Unfortunately for him, he failed his mission. All failures require punishment." She nodded to Oliver.

The huge man lifted the wolf by the chain around his neck, the silver digging deeper into already bloody, torn skin. The wolf scrabbled at the air. Oliver rammed his fist against the wolf's body, again and again, like the shifter was nothing more than some child's toy—a piñata he desperately wanted to break open.

The wolf's flailing weakened, his yelps and cries faded to whimpers, until he fell limp.

Oliver continued to pummel the wolf for long moments as if he could go on until the animal was nothing more than a bloody pulp.

Eliza snapped her fingers.

Oliver immediately dropped the still wolf to the floor.

The girl stared at the unconscious shifter, licking her lips. Her eyes flashed with a hunger for blood. And much more pain. More death.

"Mistress?" Oliver grunted.

Blinking as if snapping out of a trance, Eliza stared at Anca. She reached down to the side of her chair and ran her fingers playfully through Leo's hair.

The clan guard shuddered, his eyes drowning in misery, but he didn't move away.

Voice turning childish and musical once more, Eliza sing-songed, "Leo here didn't complete his errand, either, now did he?" Her fingers turned claw like. She clutched a handful of his hair and jerked his head back, exposing his throat.

As if sensing Anca's disgust, the girl grinned. "While you feel sympathy, you have no affinity or loyalty to the wolf. The Judge perhaps, I'd thought, but your reaction to Oliver injuring those pets didn't make you lose that famous neutral expression your kind is known for."

Anca held that same cold neutrality tight.

Eliza's eyes and mouth tightened.

"You have nothing that will force me to betray anyone." To add insult to injury, Anca tilted her head and grinned. "So sorry for you."

She wasn't bound by true siren magic. Which meant it must be escapable. If she could just understand, figure out how to break free.

The slimy knot of darkness in the center of Eliza's aura pulsated faster. "Perhaps I should send Oliver to retrieve the young one. He was such a fine pet before our poor dead Master lost him, but he'll remember the pleasures of pain before I'm through."

Anca fought a rising fury. She kept her face blank, though it was harder. She'd not give this deranged vampire the pleasure of a response. Not for anything.

"Hmmm." Eliza studied Anca closely. Unsatisfied, she shook her head and stood up, coming closer. She circled Anca, then reached out and laid a tiny child's hand on Anca's chest, right over her heart. "Perhaps I should have Oliver tear your man limb from limb, right in front of you. How does that sound?" Cruel glee swirled in her eyes along with an increasing madness.

Why did the words make something inside Anca's leap a bit? Matt wasn't
her man
.

She replied with bravado, "Feel free to try. He'll kick your ass."

"Will he? Already he's installed in my dungeon. He won't be released from control until he's shackled up in our torture room during tonight's feast."

Anca barely repressed a growl. She refused to let such a thing come to pass. This child, these Rogues, wouldn't see another night of vicious revelry. She refused to allow it.

The girl strode back to her throne, sing-songing again, "Think I struck a nerve with that one."

Anca barely paid attention, because the earth spirits clinging to her flashed with definite brighter sparks. The tattered threads of pseudo-siren magic containing her from feet to shoulders became crystal clear.