Of Blood and Passion (9 page)

“The guns are filled with wooden bullets,” Grant said evenly. “Though real bullets would likely work just as well on one of you, wouldn’t they, sorceress? Who’s with you?”

Their sudden disappearance…and reappearance…had given her away. But Grant wasn’t necessarily an enemy. He hated Cristoff nearly as much as she did. Maybe more.

“We’re on the same side, Grant,” she called. “Put the guns down.”

Another male emerged from the shadows behind Grant, a vampire she recognized as the third of Arturo’s closest friends. In recent weeks, Bram’s need to feed on the pain of others had driven him closer and closer to Cristoff—dangerously close. But Arturo had told her his story, that before he became trapped, he’d spent most of his time in the real world working as an emergency room surgeon at George Washington Hospital, healing humans even as he fed, unhappily, on their agony. The last time she saw him, he’d looked more like a drug addict than a surgeon, his eyes dark-rimmed and bloodshot as his need for pain spiraled out of control right along with his master’s. She was glad to see that he looked better today. Much better.

“One of them is Micah,” Bram said. “He’s the only one I know with the power to glamour four of them at once. If I had to guess, Arturo and Kassius round out the foursome.”

“Dissolve the glamour, please, Micah,” Arturo said with a sigh.

“All of it?” Micah grumbled. “Dissolving it takes almost as much energy as creating it in the first place.” But he did as requested and moments later the four of them once more looked like themselves.

Bram stepped forward, motioning to his associates. “Lower your weapons. They are no threat. I stake my life on this.” When he reached them, his appraising gaze landed first on her, then Arturo. “It seems we’ve been keeping secrets from one another, Ax.”

Arturo dipped his head. “A necessity, given the circumstances. I feared you’d become too close to him.”

“I feared the same of you.”

A glimmer of a smile breached Arturo’s mouth. “And now we are both involved in things of which Cristoff would not approve.”

Bram gave a low laugh that held no humor. “Cristoff approves of nothing these days unless it involves the mutilation or death of another. Why are you here?”

Arturo glanced at the small, armed throng behind Bram. “I will share that with you and Grant alone.”

“Fair enough.” Bram clasped Arturo on the shoulder and thrust out his other hand. As they shook, he said, “I had thought you lost to us, Ax.”

Arturo clasped Bram’s shoulder in turn, his mouth twisting. “I was, more than I realized. But no more. You look good.”

An understatement. Now that he was close, Quinn could see that Bram was both clean-shaven and dressed in clothes that didn’t look like they’d been slept in a dozen times, neither of which she’d seen from him before.

“I’m feeling a hundred percent better. Three hundred.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what’s changed, but in the past twenty-four hours my need for pain has almost returned to normal. I no longer feel like I need a hit every twenty minutes.” He turned to Quinn. “Is this your doing, sorceress? Are you and your magic somehow healing us?”

She was about to say no, that she didn’t have that kind of power. But she suddenly remembered what the dying elf Vintry had called her. The Healer. He’d claimed that her coming had been foretold, as had her partnership with the Snake. Presumably Arturo. But he’d never gotten the chance to tell her more, and he was likely gone now.

“I have no idea, Bram.” she replied instead.

“We believe Phineas Blackstone poisoned the magic of this place, whether intentionally or not,” Arturo said. “With the magic’s dying, the poison is losing its grip on us.”

Bram’s mouth twisted. “So that which frees us, kills us.” He glanced at Quinn. “You’re either the bravest person I’ve ever met, or the most foolish. You must know what Cristoff will do to you if he finds you.” He grimaced. “No offense, Quinn. You’d think I was a fear feeder.”

Quinn shrugged. “No offense taken. I know what he’ll do. Or as much as I need to. I’ll tell you more in private.”

Bram nodded, shook hands with Kassius and Micah, then turned and led the way into the throng of onlookers.

As they passed those who’d moments before held guns on them, Quinn found herself the object of intense interest and surprising warmth. Several people patted her on the back or tried to shake her hand. The vampires, however, were far more attentive to her friends, greeting them with smiles and no small amount of relief, especially Arturo, Cristoff’s most ‘loyal’. It occurred to her that everyone down there was aligned against Cristoff. The other vampires must be hugely gratified to realize that even Arturo and his circle were traitors.

Once they’d passed through the reception line, they continued down the tunnel, Bram leading the way, Grant bringing up the rear.

“I take it you trust those guards?” she asked Bram.

“I do. All here work toward the same purpose.”

“Which is?”

He glanced at her. “Freeing Cristoff’s slaves before he murders them all. Especially the children.”

The thought of children in Cristoff’s clutches made her physically ill.

“He hasn’t touched any of the kids, yet,” Bram added quickly, reading her expression right. “Perhaps there’s a line even Cristoff won’t cross, though I wouldn’t lay any bets on that these days.”

Finally, after they’d walked for what felt like half a mile, they reached the low doorway into the cavern where Quinn had been before. One by one, they ducked into what was essentially a large cave cut out of the rock. The light from the lantern Bram carried illuminated the damp walls, casting shadows above the numerous natural shelves. Not for the first time, she wondered if there were really tunnels and caverns beneath the once swampy D.C., or if these were strictly Grant’s creation.

Quinn took a seat on a stone that jutted from the wall, and Micah sat beside her. The others remained standing.

“Cristoff has gone completely off the rails,” Bram told them. His expression was that of a man who’d seen things no man should see. And she knew he had. They all had in this place. “The male we used to know is gone. You’ve seen evidence of it, Ax, but he’s getting worse by the day. By the hour. Many of the long-time Gonzaga vampires are starting to reclaim their souls. Those Cristoff hasn’t killed have escaped.”

“You’re still here,” Arturo said.

“Someone has to get the humans out.”

Arturo nodded. “So there are fewer guards?”

“Not fewer, no. In the past forty-eight hours, alone, we’ve had more than two dozen vampires arrive at Gonzaga, pledging allegiance to Cristoff.”

Micah frowned. “Why in the hell would they do that when he’s killing his own?”

“They say their own masters are returning to older, softer ways, and they want nothing to do with it.”

“Souls really are reawakening,” Micah said. “Across the city.”

“Many of them.” Bram grunted. “The vampires being drawn to Cristoff have no souls. They probably never had them, even when they were human. They’re as depraved as our master.”

“So nothing’s changed at Gonzaga Castle.”

Bram’s mouth tightened, but he shook his head. “Essentially, no.”

“Has he attacked any of the new guards?” Kassius asked.

“Not so far, no. He embraces them, encourages them to torture and kill to their hearts’ content. Hence the grave need to get the humans out of here.”

Arturo frowned. “If he catches you…”

“I’m dead. But when the magic fails…” Bram shrugged. “I’m dead either way. Maybe I can do some good before that happens.” He scratched his chin, then paused as if surprised to find his jaw clean-shaven. “Tell us why you’re here, Ax.”

Arturo took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if weighing his words. “Quinn’s not just the Black Wizard’s heir, but Levenach’s as well.”

Quinn found a small measure of satisfaction as she watched Grant’s eyes widen.

Bram whistled. “The curse…”

“Yes,” Arturo said. “Not only has it bound her Levenach magic, but it’s strangling her Blackstone.”

“That’s why being in the Focus hurts her,” Grant murmured.

And it was true. Twice she’d stood in the center of the small energy dome they called the Focus—the very spot where Phineas Blackstone had stood to create Vamp City in 1870—and tried to renew the magic. The Focus only accepted those with Blackstone blood and while it had let her in, the energy had turned on her, attacking her, both times. The second time, she’d honestly feared it might kill her, which was why Arturo had been so angry with her for not coming out. He’d been unable to follow her in to rescue her when her stubborn determination to save her brother at all costs had nearly cost her life.

“The Focus recognized her as Blackstone.” Grant’s brows rose. “But it also recognized her as Levenach. It saw her as both friend and foe.”

“What’s the answer then?” Bram asked. “It will always attack her.”

“Yes,” Quinn said. “I can handle the pain. The trouble is, the curse is hampering my Blackstone magic and as long as it is, I can’t save the city. We have to break the curse.”

Grant frowned. “And how do we do that?”

Arturo hesitated, his gaze moving from Bram to Grant to Bram again.

“Destroy Escalla.”

The cave went silent. Finally, Bram made a sound of disbelief. “You’ll never get near it.”

Arturo turned to Grant. “What do you know about the sword?”

Grant looked at him with surprise. “Very little. Cristoff keeps it hanging in that case. I certainly don’t know how to destroy it.”

“Then it’s a good thing we already have a plan.” Arturo’s smile was grim as his gaze remained locked on Phineas Blackstone’s eldest son. “And we need your help.” Grant scowled, but Arturo just lifted his hand. “You needn’t do anything but lend your likeness to Quinn for a time so that she can travel through the castle without drawing attention.”

Grant’s scowl deepened. “And if she’s seen…if
I’m
seen…sneaking away from the site of the crime? I won’t survive the day.”

“Then leave. It’s not safe here for you anymore, not for anyone. Besides, you owe Quinn this.”

“How do you figure that?”

Arturo advanced on him slowly. “When Quinn attempted to renew the magic yesterday, you promised to have Sheridan send her the words she needed to perform the ritual. The words were garbage.”

The expression that registered on Grant’s face was fleeting, but unmistakable. A smirk.

Quinn caught her breath.

Arturo grabbed Grant and slammed him up against the nearest rock wall, leaving his feet dangling in the air. “You never asked Sheridan for the words, did you, you bastard? You intentionally fed Quinn false words so that she would fail to renew the magic.
Why?
”

Quinn shot to her feet as she, too, rounded on Grant. They’d never been friends, but she’d thought him at least a casual ally seeing as they were both Blackstone sorcerers and shared a common hatred for Cristoff.

Grant managed to croak out an answer. “Haven’t you figured it out by now? I hate this city. I want it to die. And I want to die with it.”

A heavy silence descended upon the small group. Micah and Kassius exchanged looks. One after another, they turned to Bram.

Bram was the one who’d brought Grant into their midst to hear all their secrets and their plans. Yet it was clear, now, that Grant Blackstone was no ally. And if he wasn’t, what of the others who knew they were down here? What of Bram himself?

Their mission might well have been compromised before it ever started.

Chapter 10

T
he tension in the cave deep below Gonzaga Castle was thick enough to choke them all as Kassius and Micah pulled knives on Bram while Arturo continued to hold Grant pinned against the cave wall.

Grant Blackstone had never been Quinn’s favorite person. He’d helped her a few times, but she’d never gotten the sense that he particularly liked her. Maybe because she supposedly had so much more magic than he did, though she knew Grant could do things she could only dream of. Still, feeding her false words when she’d risked her life to renew the magic yesterday had been a nasty move.

Bram lifted his hands slowly, watching his friends. “There is no betrayal here. You know Grant hates vampires. He’s never made any pretense of feeling otherwise. But he despises Cristoff more than he dislikes all the rest of us combined. He won’t betray your mission.”

“True,” Grant choked out.

Quinn’s hard gaze swung from Grant to Bram and back again. She’d always found Grant hard to read. Or maybe not, now that she thought about it. The first time she was Cristoff’s captive, Grant had helped her escape in exchange for her assisting a handful of humans to leave Vamp City. She’d figured he was either setting a trap for her or he was being particularly self-sacrificing, given that he had every expectation that she’d leave Vamp City as well. And she was the only one with a chance of saving his world.

Now it all made far more sense. He hadn’t wanted his world saved. She remembered him saying something to that effect at the time, but she hadn’t realized he’d meant it quite so literally.