Shades of Gray: A Jude Magdalyn Novel (31 page)

Hart must have believed me because he let go of my face and shoved me away from him. The sudden movement proved too much and I turned my head, vomiting all over the carpet, and Hart.

“These are two thousand dollar shoes, you bitch!” Another blow to the side of my head and I welcomed the accompanying darkness.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Wake up, you stupid bitch.
Wake up.” I must be dreaming. No way was this happening again. Another blow to my side, but not the same one Guile had kicked me on.

Ok, not a dream, or deja vu. People just wanted to beat the crap out of me today. Lucky me.

I surfaced very, very slowly. I tasted blood and sour in my mouth and remembered vaguely biting my own tongue when Hart tried to punch a hole in my head. I probably had really bad breath right now.

They’d propped me up against something. At least this time there wouldn’t be the struggle to sit up. If I’d thought my head hurt before, it was nothing compared to now. I don’t think Hart was going to get a chance to kill me. I was going to die because my brain was bleeding. I didn’t have the trickle effect Christophe had shown, but some instinctive, animal part of me knew.

I opened my eyes and there sat Lisette. The chair was high enough up off the ground that only the very tips of her toes touched the floor but she’d shown her true colors. No way in hell would I fall for the little old woman routine again.

“It’s a pity the nuns didn’t drown you at birth, like a mongrel cat and spare all this trouble.”

A loud crash sounded in the distance, answered with a thundering boom. Other sounds began to filter in - the roaring of the wind as it whipped around the corner of a building, the strange whooshing sound a flash fire makes. I felt a low rumble through my bones.

Above it all, the keening, high-pitched sound of screams.

“I don’t suppose you care your family is out there. Dying.”

Lisette snorted, her feet swinging slightly. “Weak, pitiful fools, all of them. You’ve blinded Theo with your whorish charms, and tricked Lies into thinking she can be different from her sister, but I know the truth.”

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it crawled up and bit your bony ass.”

“The truth, you wretched girl, is I should have been the leader of the Covenant, not your grandmother or your sniveling, whiny mother.” She cackled, taking my silence for shock. And she’d be right.

“Before your ancestor showed up, the woman who gave birth to my family line was the leader of the joined families. Then your pregnant, whorish ancestor appeared, spouting her foolish talk about a Prophecy and my ancestor was removed from power.” Lisette leaned forward, her sightless eyes intense and evil. “For all my life, I’ve swallowed that insult. I watched as Gillian coddled your mother, made her weak and useless, and I knew it was time.”

“You gave my father to Hart.” It might have been the sheer gravity of all the injuries, but I couldn’t even work up enough disgust to feel sick. Just scared.

“Myself and Wily - after we had a little fun. We made sure no one would ever suspect us.” She smiled and my skin crawled. “And they haven’t.”

“You did a good job.” I swallowed hard, the fear all but choking me. All the things to be scared of and I was afraid of an old woman I had a good foot on.

Hart might kill me. Lisette would peel the skin from my bones and laugh while she did it.

“Of course I did. I made sure the former Council knew every time Gillian tried to contact you. I ordered the disposal of more than one of her agents myself.” She tapped my ribs with her cane and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. “If Hart hadn’t been so damn focused on the will, he’d have taken care of you that first night.”

Her lip curled in distaste and I hoped Hart had a clue what kind of crazy he was in bed with. “Stupid man. Just like his maker. Never believing a woman can be as deadly as a man.”

A sick, twisted thought began to form, swirling around in my mind. “You planned everything. The missing will, the war.” Bile rose in my throat and I gagged before continuing. “Gillian’s death.”

“I’m ninety-seven years old. I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate the downfall of your family.” Her smile grew and I gagged again, praying I wouldn’t throw up. “It’s been my fondest dream for a number of years now.”

“What about the Covenant? Who’s going to lead them once you’ve disposed of me?” Maybe if I kept her talking, I could come up with some sort of plan. A quick and dirty one, but as long as I got the hell out of this room, I didn’t give a damn.

“Me, of course. Then Wily, and then Lies. She’ll come around, once she’s no longer under the disgusting influence of you and your group of misfits.”

I took a deep breath, concentrating on letting the air in and out of my lungs. I’d never thrown fire at a human, only vamps, so I didn’t know if she’d actually go up in flames, but it was the closest thing I had to a sure-fire weapon. I’d be damned if I would die sitting on my ass without some kind of fight.

“You’re wrong, Lisette.”

She frowned, the gesture marring her facial features. “No, I’ve thought this all through. I’ve planned this for years.”

I surged forward, knocking her cane away, gripping her arm with my other hand. There was a moment where fear showed in her eyes before she sneered at me. “You’re too weak.”

I thought of all the lives she’d ruined out of a misplaced sense of pride. Gillian’s. My parents’. Theo and his parents’. “Think again.”

She didn’t burst into flames like the vamps did. More like watching someone struck by lightning without seeing the lightning flash. Her skin blackened and charred and the smell of burning flesh rose from her body. She shook, little spasms at first, gradually increasing until she looked like she was caught in the throes of a seizure. Her eyes rolled in their sockets and her tongue danced over her lips, twitching and jerking.

I held on, even though I wanted to stand up and run. I could rationalize a vampire bursting into flames, because they were already dead. Burning Lisette from the inside out, frying her organs, boiling her blood, made me sick to my core.

Finally, she stopped moving, stopped breathing. I watched the life fade from her eyes, the same as Christophe’s, and I felt relieved. Sick, tired, but relieved. So much death because of something long ago. It wasn’t the fault of anyone living, but we continued to pay.

We’d paid enough.

I used the edge of the chair to push to my feet, not surprised when I swayed and almost fell over. My head didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it should, but I didn’t feeling like dancing, either. The sounds of the battle echoed in the distance.

Lisette might have been the core of the evil but it was well and truly alive.

I leaned against the door when I finally reached it, my breath coming hard and fast. I pushed the door open and took a moment to look up and down the hallway. No one. This was either really good or really bad. The way the night was going, I cast my vote for really bad.

I stumbled down the hallway, one a hand on the wall to keep my balance. I hoped someone had thought to bring Bridget, because there was something seriously wrong with me. It would be like me to die right when I got my life straightened out.

I managed to make it to the end of the hall without falling, getting hit in the ribs, or walloped upside the head. I slid around the corner, pausing for a moment to catch my breath.

“There you are. Let’s see if you’re really willing to die for these damn animals.”

I turned in the direction of Hart’s voice, ducking at the last second. His fist went through the wall with a sickening thud and my stomach turned over at what that would have done to my head. I slipped under his arm, pushing up from the floor to run in the direction of the war.

If he wanted to kill me, that was fine. Nothing new, but the bastard had to catch me first.

I ran blindly, turning, then turning again. I scrambled up stairs, chased by Hart’s screaming. I needed to be going down and the only direction I could find was up.

Of fucking course.

I slammed through the first unlocked door I found and into the middle of hell.

The wind knocked me to the ground and I lay there stunned for a moment. Arrows fell in a constant, burning rain around me. One of Hart’s men took an arrow and burst into flames. I covered my ears, trying to block out the screams.

They were louder than anything else going on.

Someone grabbed and wrenched my arm upward, snapping my shoulder out of joint. Pain came so fast and brilliant I could barely breathe, never mind scream. Hart’s face twisted into a mask of fury and hate as he spun me around to face him, pushing me toward the edge of the building.

I heard a voice below call for the archers to hold their fire and the rain of arrows stopped. My hair whipped around my face, the wind scraping my skin raw. Hart leaned in close and even then he had to scream to be heard over the wind.

“Let’s see how well you fly, witch.”

I gripped his shirt with my one good hand and leaned backward. In any other situation, the look of disbelief on his face would have been priceless. “Let’s see.”

And we fell.

Chapter Thirty-Four

It was like jumping out of
an airplane. At least how I’ve always imagined jumping out of an airplane would feel. You expected the wind to keep you up, even though you knew gravity pushed you down.

Hart tried to twist out of my grasp but I held firm. The fall might not kill him - it was only four stories, but if it didn’t, he sure as hell wasn’t walking away. Which meant someone would have the time they needed to take his head.

God, I hoped it wasn’t Theo. He was already having a bad night.

The screams grew in intensity as the ground rushed up to hit us. I waited for the moment when it would and everything snapped to black. I prayed. For me. For Theo. For Rian, Elizabeth, Celia, and Lies. For every person who’d trusted me to end this.

This wasn’t the way I would have chosen, but sometimes fate chooses for us.

It hurt. I thought the impact would kill me instantly but the only thing instant was the pain. Christ Jesus, there was a lot of it. My teeth hurt. Hell, my hair hurt.

Then I realized - I was breathing.

I rolled over, coughing and hacking, the movement made worse thanks to the damage already done to my ribs. I turned my head to the left and spotted Hart. The bastard moved, unfortunately. Not a lot, but enough to tell me he’d survived the fall, too. I turned my head to the right and my heart stuttered.

The Rising.

I tried to crawl toward the sword but the second I put my weight onto my left side my shoulder screamed in protest and down I went. My face scraped against the pavement and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I shifted to my right side, using my one good arm to crawl.

Behind me, Hart grabbed my leg, trying to pull me back. I kicked out, connected with something and heard the crunch of cartilage. Hart screamed, a high pitched sound that sent my nerves skittering. I crawled forward a few more inches, fingertips grazing the hilt of the sword.

I heard a muffled thud and jerked my head left. Nine feet away, Theo beat against air. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear anything. I paused, confused, forgetting Hart was mere inches behind me.

The wind blew wildly where Theo stood. I could see it whipping his clothes, buffeting him back and forth, but there was no wind where I lay. I looked to my right and saw Lies kneeling, yelling at the sky.

Ahead of me, I could make out the faint, glowing neon lights of Bourbon Street. I looked up and saw where the quiet ended and insanity began.

Somehow, I’d cast a circle while I fell. No one could get in or out.

It was just me and Hart.

I closed my fingers over the cold metal of the hilt, dragging it toward me. It was going to hurt and I didn’t know what kind of range of motion my left shoulder had. I pushed to my feet, pulling the sword up with me, using it like a cane to gain my balance.

Hart’s swearing and cursing alerted me that he was gaining his feet as well and I swung around to face him. I hefted the sword with my right hand, testing the weight. It grew lighter, easier to manage in my grasp, and I gave a light swing. Steel whistled on the air and I watched Hart’s eyes narrow.

“So you can fly. Let’s see if you can fight.”

He darted forward and I danced away, moving with nothing but my instinct as guide. Where the hell he’d hid a sword on him, I have no clue. I watched him slice through the air and knew I was in a whole lot of trouble. He raised his sword again, preparing to strike.

A downswing. The Rising flew up. Parried. Clashed.

Gillian told me the Rising would be the weapon I needed, and it was. My mind emptied of everything but the clash of steel against steel. We circled, lunged. Swung again and again.

My arm went numb and still continued to move, independent of the rest of me. I felt myself slow down, saw Hart doing the same. He would last longer than me, I knew.

The Rising flashed out and met with flesh instead of steel. I watched the bright red of fresh blood spread across Hart’s middle, his hand going to his stomach in shock. His sword dropped and he raised the other hand to watch the blood drip from his fingers.

The Rising flashed again and scarlet bloomed across his chest. Again, and his sword hand went limp, the tendons in his wrist cut clean through. Breath burned in my lungs. The Rising swung again and Hart dropped to his knees, both hands clutching his gaping middle.

The wind returned, fluttering Hart’s shirt, splashing drops of blood on the street. I’d thought, when this moment came, I would feel panicked or relieved or even dismayed.

I didn’t feel anything other than empty.

I lifted the Rising one final time, the sword turning smoothly in my hand until the flat of the blade rested under Hart’s chin. No sneer on his face or fear in his eyes.

I swung my arm back, the blade whistling in the light breeze.

“Jude. Please.”

I didn’t drop the sword or take my eyes from Hart’s face. “What are you doing here, Williams?”

“Jude. He’s my brother.” Williams glided over the blood splattered pavement, sliding between us. I shifted so I could keep my eyes, and the sword, on Hart.

“What are you doing here, Williams?” Theo couldn’t get in, but Williams could. Strange.

“Your circle kept the living out.” Simple explanation covered all the bases. “He’s the only thing remotely close to a family I have left.”

“Keep your pity, brother.” Hart’s voice was still smoothly cultured, though strained.

“He killed my grandmother. The only family I had left.” I slid my eyes from Hart for a moment, just a moment. “Get out of my circle.”

“Jude.” Williams grabbed my left shoulder and I gasped in pain, my right hand dropping reflexively. One second with my guard down. One second.

Hart pushed to his feet and rushed past me, knocking over Elizabeth as he fled the circle. Cries rose from the crowd of people gathered and more than one scream tore through the night air.

“Goddamn you, Williams!” I wrenched out of his grasp, holding fast to the Rising with my good hand. I turned and ran, power snapping as the circle broke. People cowered on the ground, their heads covered, raising them as I flew past.

I could make out the top of his head, just barely, over the crowds as he tried to blend into the melee of Bourbon. The screams grew more frequent the faster I ran and part of me realized people here had no idea what was going on less than five blocks away. A bruised, bloodied woman grasping a sword running after a man in even worse condition didn’t factor on the sight-seeing list of most tourists.

I glimpsed Hart as he turned suddenly left, a group of female tourists screaming and dropping their geaux cups. Left, toward the river. The crowd broke and I pushed through, praying I wouldn’t slice anyone open with the sword, as I ducked and slid around people, always moving, never stopping or slowing.

The weight in my right hand changed and I risked a glance down. The Rising shrank to a dagger, easily able to fit in the palm of my hand. I closed my fist around it, ignoring the sharp sting as the blade bit into my palm, and ran faster.

If the people hadn’t been observant before, they were now. Screams rose as we flew down St. Peter Street, becoming shriller the closer we got to the river. Hart didn’t pause in his sprint across Decatur and neither did I. A cab stopped right before running over my toes and I slid across the hood, hitting the ground hard on my hands and knees, the Rising slicing deeper.

By the time I raced up the incline and sprinted across the train tracks, I was fighting another crowd, this one running away from the river. I pushed through them, homeless, tourists and locals out taking the night air. I skidded to a halt on the Moonwalk, my lungs on fire, my muscles shaking.

Where was he?

The shove from behind knocked me to my knees and I rolled, half second before Hart slammed his fist down where my face had been. I grabbed his shirt and kept rolling, moving us toward the river. I kept my elbow in his throat, his face away from mine. I winced when rocks dug into my back and took a deep breath.

We plunged into the river.

It stung, the cool slap, even in August. I kicked hard, dragging us down and away from the bank, until my lungs protested and I had no choice but to rise. Our heads broke the surface together and I gasped in a breath, choking as water splashed into my mouth. Hart’s sneer returned, and my right hand convulsed where it clung to his shirt.

“You can’t drown me, you fool. I’m already dead.”

I treaded water, pulling him closer. My nose nearly touched his and I knew the instant he realized what else was in my hand besides his shirt. I relaxed my fingers, and the Rising pressed delicately into his left breast.

“There are some things worse than death.” I thrust the blade home.

He screamed and pushed me away while trying frantically to draw the dagger out but it was like the weapon had teeth and clung to his insides no matter how hard he pulled. His screams grew until I threw my hands up over my ears to drown the sound out. I didn’t know what the Rising was doing to him, but I knew what I planned to do.

Gillian never showed me how to call water - we hadn’t had enough time, but it was do or die. The circle I cast while Hart screamed and thrashed drained, the water within shifting out.

The cold, thick and muddy slush of the river bed slid through my bloody fingers. I looked up at the ceiling and walls of water around us and the man in front of me on his back writhing in pain. I crawled over, straddled him and yanked the dagger out. I pressed on his shoulders and the ground opened up to draw him in.

“You can’t leave me here. I’ll burn.”

I moved backward as the ground took over, pulled him deeper and swallowed him up. “You’re under ground, under nearly two hundred feet of water.” I crawled further away, not wanting to touch any part of him, scared of being sucked in myself. “Let’s see you swim, you bastard.”

The mud cut off his screams and I pushed myself to my feet. I looked up again, the walls of water shivered and jerked. I didn’t know how to undo what I’d done. I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes, uncast the circle.

The water collapsed on me with a quiet whoosh and everything went black.