Kick The Candle (Knight Games) (17 page)

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Authors: Genevieve Jack

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BOOK: Kick The Candle (Knight Games)
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Bathory rounded on me with a piranha smile, all teeth and a promise that her bite was worse than her bark. “I was there the day you burned at the stake. Had I known the book in Monk’s arms had the power it did, I would have taken it then. As it was, when my next meal collapsed, twitching on the ground, I stepped right over my salvation and moved on to the next town. But you hear a lot as a vampire. Men talk and demons share their secrets in the night. Recently, I’ve learned what the book can do. I want it. And one of the last people to see it is back from the dead—you.”

“I don’t know where it is,” I mumbled again. My right eye was officially swollen shut.

The cackle that escaped her lips made new goosebumps play leapfrog over my skin. “Perhaps Indiana can make you talk.” She lifted a five foot bullwhip from somewhere I couldn’t see and used both hands to make the leather snap in front of my good eye. “Have you met Indiana? I named her after Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford was a master with a whip.”

Baring her teeth, she circled the whip above her head and brought the tail down across my chest. I screamed as it bit into my flesh.

“Where is the book?” she growled.

“I don’t know!”

The whip sliced across my thighs. “The book?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” I whimpered.

Again. This time her anger marred her aim and the tail of the whip bit into my bound hands.

My head listed forward. I heaved but nothing came out. “I don’t know,” I whimpered. “Why do you want it, anyway?”

“Interesting,” she said. “Perhaps, you really don’t remember. Allow me to enlighten you.
The Book of Flesh and Bone
gives the spellcaster power over life and death. Vampires, as you know, are the living dead, bound supernaturally to a certain set of laws. The book would allow me to change those laws.”

“What? Like you’d be able to walk in the sunlight?” I rasped.

“The sunlight, yes. A more natural appearance without the need for illusion. The ability to taste food again. And other things. True immortality. Life in death without limits.”

My head listed on my shoulders. Darkness pressed in around me, my vision a constricting tunnel. I was fighting to remain conscious. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet anymore, just the ache that racked my torso from shoulders to hips. I felt like I’d been in a car accident. “There has to be limits,” I rasped. “Balance.”

Her mouth came close to the ear on the swollen side of my face. “I’ve never been one to follow the rules.”

“Mistress!” The leprechaun was back, yelling and flailing his arms from the stone stairs in the back of the dungeon. “I apologize, but you are needed upstairs. It’s urgent! There’s a fight over a woman and the men have guns.”

As if on cue the sound of breaking glass filtered down from above. The vampire growled low in her throat, then shot me an evil glare. “I’ll be right there, Naill.”

The ginger jogged back the way he’d come.

Bathory turned her full attention on me. “You hang around while I take care of a few things,” she said with a grin. A sharp fingernail pressed into my chest and I watched a drop of blood trickle between my breasts. “Then we’ll see what else we can do to jog your memory.” The words held the threat of violence.

I blinked. She was gone. Or maybe I’d passed out for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure. Whichever it was, I sensed someone else was in the room. Not Bathory, no. The weight of the supernatural presence was different, lighter. Someone was working at the ropes that bound my arms. Slightly behind me, I couldn’t see who it was, and with my face busted up, all I could smell was my own blood.

“Rick?”

“While the pleasure of owning that name isn’t mine, the compliment of your confusion doesn’t escape me. Perhaps, later, you can reward me the way you would him.” The voice was plush as velvet, sinful and smarmy.

“Julius.” My wrists came loose and my arms fell forward, causing an intense pain to shoot through my shoulders. I screamed.

His hand clamped over my mouth and his face came into focus, dark hair, the color of melted chocolate, and too large blue eyes. “Shhh. Even with the fight I staged upstairs, Anna is a very old vampire with acute hearing. We have only moments to escape this place before she undoubtedly becomes suspicious.”

I nodded. The thought that Julius wasn’t rescuing me but rather scavenging me for parts, such as the rest of my blood, crossed my mind. Too bad I had no energy to fight. Remaining conscious was a moment-by-moment battle.

With no effort at all, he tossed me over his shoulder. Pain shot through me once again, ugly, hot pain that made me dry heave. I was pretty sure one of my arms was broken and maybe more. Lucky for me, the added agony pushed me over the edge and blissful unconsciousness took over.

Chapter 17
Out of the Frying Pan

M
y one good eye cranked open inside a dimly lit room much different from Bathory’s dungeon. The other was still swollen shut. Nestled in a plush, white bed, with a fluffy down comforter, I ran my hand across the smooth fabric of the sheets and glanced around the room. Clean lines. Dark wood nightstand with stainless steel pull. A rice paper screen. A silver-blue straight back chair. Where was I? Desperately, I tried to sit up to get a better look, but a sharp pain thwarted my efforts.

“I think you have a broken rib,” Julius said from behind me.

With some effort, I rolled over to face him. He sat at a larger-than-life desk made of the same almost-black wood of the nightstand. Hunched over a stack of papers, he read by the light of a silver candelabra. That’s why the room was so dim. No electric lights. Only candles.

Carefully, I positioned myself to get a better idea of my chances of escape. Comfortable accommodations but not a window in sight. A heavy wooden door was closed up tight, probably locked. Was this a different type of prison? Or maybe Anna and Julius were working together, a good-cop, bad-cop scenario.

“I’d offer you pain medication, but we have none. Doesn’t work on vampires. We have no need for it here. I do, however, have some 1939 Macallan scotch, if you’d like.” His blue eyes didn’t lift from the document he was reading.

“No, thanks. I’ve already been poisoned once tonight. I don’t need to make the same mistake twice.”

He lifted his head and straightened in his chair. “If I wanted you dead, I would have drained you of every last drop of blood while you were asleep. It’s not as if you were putting up much of a fight and your blood is...” He shook his head and grinned as if even the thought of drinking my blood gave him pleasure. “Besides, if I was going to taint a beverage with poison it most certainly wouldn’t be a ten thousand dollar bottle of scotch.”

He had a point. “Okay. I’ll take a glass.”

Julius rose and crossed the room to a credenza bar where he poured two fingers of bronze colored liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Am I a prisoner?”

He lowered his shoulders in mock frustration. “Does this look like a dungeon?”

“There are no windows, the door is closed, and I’m still in my slip.”

Scotch flowed into a second glass. “It’s daylight. I didn’t have time to find your dress. You are in my bedroom, underground. There are no windows because I would go up in smoke if there were.”

“One can only hope.”

He handed me one of the glasses and sipped from the other. “Is that any way to treat the vampire who rescued you?”

I looked toward the ceiling. “Are we under Tiltworld?” The last time I’d seen Julius, his coven had taken up residence in a carnival fun house called the Barn Blast.

“Actually, we’ve moved to more permanent accommodations. You won’t blame me for not divulging the address.”

With a wave of my still-bloody hand, I dismissed his comment. “Why
did
you rescue me? It’s not like we’re besties. How in the world did you even know where I was?” I took a swig of the scotch. The intense liquor burned its way down my throat and warmed me to my toes. I coughed a few times.

He ran a hand through his hair, loosing a straight lock that fell over his forehead. “I’ve had you followed for months. Gary volunteered.”

A memory from a few months back slipped to the front of my brain. I’d smelled Gary’s cologne while climbing into my Jeep after work. At the time, I hadn’t known he was a vamp. “Gary? Why?” Julius was evil, but having Gary follow me 24/7 seemed excessive even for him.

“My coven can not allow Anna Bathory to gain access to the book.”

“What book?”

He laughed until he showed fang.

“Listen, like I told Anna, I don’t know where the
Book of Flesh and Bone
is. I’m not sure why she thinks I have it, but I don’t.”

“Oh please. Do we have to do this every fucking time?” He slammed the glass down on his desk. “Stop playing coy with me, Hecate. You must know, if the book wasn’t somewhere on your property, the Nekomata wouldn’t be nosing around your house.”

I stared at him for a beat. “You know about the Nekomata?”

“Every supernatural being this side of the Appalachians knows about the Nekomata,” he hissed.

I shook my head. “Explain.”

He sighed heavily as if trying to decide if he should indulge me. “For many years, rumor among our kind suggested they took the book after your death.”

“The Nekomata?”


Yes
.” Julius shot me an annoyed look. “They are drifters, like your human stereotype of gypsies. They collect things. It is well known that the Pryth Clan frequented New England at the time of your death, scavenging goods from the dead. Thanks to drought, war, and hysteria, there was an abundance of dead.”

“Nice.”

“But they can’t carry everything they steal. Like pirates, they bury their booty to retrieve at a later date. They seal it in vault under the earth. So, you see, when one comes around after so much time, word gets out.”

I lowered my eyebrows, which hurt because of my busted face. “Why now? It’s been hundreds of years. Why wouldn’t the Nekomata come before this?”

Julius downed his drink and returned to the credenza to pour another. Did vampires get drunk? I wasn’t sure. “The Nekomata seal their treasure inside a vault they create in the Earth. Always near a gravesite, since their magic uses the dead. Only during specific celestial events may the vault be opened. As it so happens, the winter solstice is but days away.”

“The winter solstice happens every year. Why now? Why this year?”

“Because this is the first year that the hiding place will be accessible to the Nekomata, dear witch. This is the first year that your house is not your own.” He pointed at me with conviction as if I’d done something wrong.

“So, you’re suggesting that the Nekomata are buying my house because the
Book of Flesh and Bone
is buried somewhere on my property in a Pryth clan vault, but they can’t get to it without buying my house because of the spell of protection my predecessor put on the place.

He nodded slowly. Julius’ mouth spread into a wide, toothy grin. “Your dear old friend died before her time, before she could transfer the title of the house to you.”

“Prudence?”

“When she left the house to your father, she meant it for you.” He snorted. “Didn’t work out. Perfect time for the Nekomata to strike.”

“So, the Nekomata got word the house was for sale. It’s been for sale for two years. Why not come earlier?”

He lowered himself back into the leather desk chair and stared at me like I was dense.

“Any protective spell you had on the house would be fully in force until you returned. But a transitioning witch is vulnerable. You should have reinforced the spell when you had the chance. Now, it is already beginning to weaken.”

“I thought you were behind the sale, Mr.
Helleborine
.”

“Who is Mr. Helleborine? I know the name... Helleborine is an herb you should be quite familiar with, Hecate, but I have never gone by that name.”

I looked at him skeptically. “Someone going by that name tried to buy my house earlier this year.”

“It was not me, although I wouldn’t put it past Anna. She can’t be happy about the nekomata getting the book.”

“Why? I’m sure she could compel it out of their hands in a heartbeat. She’s probably behind the purchase.”

“Poor. Dear. Ignorant. Witch.” He sighed. “Nekomata and vampires are natural enemies. A nekomata bite is deadly to us and, no, they can’t be compelled. They’re immune. No nekomata in their right mind would help Anna.”

“So, she’s trying to get to it before they do.”

He shook his head. “Maybe, but I’m not sure why. A Pryth clan vault can only be opened by nekomata magic. It can not be forced open by muscle or any other natural means.” He sipped his scotch and stared at a spot on the wall.

“What about magic? She had a leprechaun in her employ. Aren’t they, like, super-sorcerers?”

“I’m not sure even a leprechaun could bypass nekomata magic, but I’d rather not find out. You must have wondered why I sent Gary with the money. You are not so naïve to believe it was out of the goodness of my heart.” He chuckled.

My lips parted. No, I hadn’t trusted Julius’ gift, and I still didn’t. I turned his words over in my mind, wondering what parts I should believe. I decided, in this case, the shock of honesty might be just what I needed to shake him up. “Nekomata bought my house. It isn’t mine anymore. We haven’t closed on the sale yet, but unless a miracle happens, it’s his.”

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