HAPTER EIGHT

 

 

Darius twirled Carolyn on the dance floor. Her glorious laugh filled his heart to bursting. He abandoned the waltz, pulled her in close, and swayed with her in his arms. Smiling, he laughed along with her. “Your joy is contagious.”

Her eyes glittered with delight. “Is it? I can’t help myself. I’m having the best time.”

“I’m glad. Would you like to take a break and sit for a bit?”

“Sitting would be a good idea. I could use a breather.”

“I’ll get us drinks and meet you at the table. The line has gotten long at the bar, so this might take a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

He kissed her because it was imperative to do so, and got in line with the other partiers.

Several moments later, the skin on his arms tingled. Someone watched him. He glanced at Carolyn expecting to find her gazing back. She wasn’t. She was looking nervously around the ballroom as well. Narrowing his eyes, he searched for the source of his discomfort. He found no one, other than his vampires paying attention to either himself or Carolyn. He rubbed at the goosebumps, but the feeling of malicious intent remained. He learned decades ago to listen to his senses. Goosebumps always spelled trouble that must be dealt with.

It had to be the Guild. If he rushed Carolyn from the room, the watcher would be alerted that imminent discovery was at hand. He needed the element of surprise. The information he could extract from a Guild member would give him a leg up protecting Carolyn.

He pretended to rub his neck, activating his earpiece. “Nick, the Guild is here, in the ballroom. Find him. I want him taken alive.”

“I’m on it.”

Darius listened as Nick hissed orders to the others. Within minutes the room was searched from end to end.

Nick’s voice came over the earpiece once again. “He must have realized he was busted and slipped out. I’ve placed men at all the entrances, if he tries to return we’ll grab him.”

“Thanks, Nick.” Darius curbed his snarl as he stepped to the bar and ordered two sodas.

Moments later he took his seat next to Carolyn and offered her a glass of ice-cold cola. “Your refreshment, my lady.”

She took a long draw and smiled. “Oh, that’s good.”

He sipped at his and set it aside. Taking her hand, he looked her in the eyes. “I noticed you were looking around with a frown on your face. Did you see something I should be aware of?”

“No. But it felt like I was being watched.” She shrugged and laughed softly as she shook her head. “I think my imagination got the better of me.”

“I doubt that. I felt it too. I had the men canvas the room, but they found nothing amiss. Whoever it was, may return. I want you to stay inside. The Guild may be making their move.”

She glanced at the French doors longingly. “All right. Is it safe to use the ladies room?”

“Aye. You’ll find it just outside the entrance to your right.”

She smiled when he got to his feet as she rose to leave. He leaned down when she rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Darius watched her go. He smiled and waved when she glanced back at him. Damn, she was a knockout. All of her smooth, sexy skin that Elvira costume exposed made his mouth water.

“She’s a beauty. All of those luscious curves and big blue eyes. Mmm Mmm.” Nick grinned as he smacked his lips.

“Aye. She is.”

Nick grinned broadly and rubbed his hands together. “If you need a road map to find your way around that pretty little thing later, you know how to get ahold of me. I’ll show you the way.”

“I would have to remove your hands if you touched her. I’m sure you would find pleasuring yourself problematic.”

Nick barked out a laugh. “Women stand in line outside my door. I never have to pleasure myself.”

“I’m surprised your ego fit through the doors. I look forward to the day you find your Muierimei, and she rejects you.”

“Dang. That’s just mean. My Muierimei will adore me.”

“Take a piece of advice from one who knows. Cultivate some humility and dial back your womanizing. Women don’t appreciate a man with the lifestyle you live.”

“You were a womanizer? When?”

“Not I. Another you know well.”

Nick nodded solemnly. “Stefan Le Beau.”

“Aye, take a page from his book and learn the lesson well. The last thing you want is for your woman to reject you.”

Darius rubbed at his sternum. A strange tightness squeezed his heart. He took a breath and frowned. Why was it hard to breathe? The feeling amplified, tolled his inner alarm, and put his senses on full alert.

Nick clapped Darius on the back. “You’re right. Thanks for the advice. I would hate to lose a woman like Carolyn. I better go. It’s time to check on the ladies and do another sweep.”

 

*****

 

Carolyn wet a paper towel and pressed the cool refreshing cloth to her overheated skin. Even with air conditioning, it was hot in the ballroom. She closed her eyes and imagined cold things. A large ice cream cone. A tall glass of sweet tea. A freaking meat locker. It didn’t help.

Sighing, she threw the towel in the garbage and headed back. Her plan was to return to the table, but then she saw Nick talking with Darius. The conversation appeared to be serious in nature. Not wanting to interrupt she angled toward the cool breeze coming in through the opened French doors. She was about to stop just inside when she changed her mind and walked through the doors. If she stayed within a few feet, she should be safe enough.

True to her intention, she stayed close to the door, just far enough away to feel the breeze on her face. She closed her eyes and lifted her face and arms to the moon. A rare full moon on Halloween. The magical energy was a tangible tingle down her spine.

She had soaked up the energy for several minutes when her eyes snapped open, and she lowered her arms. Was there someone out here with her? She swore she had heard rustling.

“Hello?”

Only the ruffling of leaves on the breeze answered. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the heavens. The sky was clear, and the stars were amazing. Out of nowhere, she felt eyes on her. Had the Guild returned? She stiffened and prepared to run, but relaxed when a costumed couple stepped out of the darkness. Enrapt with each other they didn’t glance her way until they were only a few feet from her.

“Hello. The garden is gorgeous, isn’t it?”

She had no warning. A fist rushed at her face and hit her jaw with enough force to snap her head back. Stars burst, blurring her vision. The moon’s glow faded to a dull gray as darkness threatened to overtake her. Her first thought was she should have trusted her intuition. She should have obeyed Darius and stayed indoors.

Fighting to clear her vision, she was unprepared when hands grabbed her viciously from behind and jerked her around. The wig she wore was pulled aside with such force it was ripped from her head.

A menacing face leaned in close. Hot breath fanned her cheeks making her skin crawl. His stance was unforgiving, the air about him as ominous as death itself. Terror and pain surged through her.

Before she could scream, a callused hand came from behind and clapped over her mouth. Three? There were three of them? Where had the third person come from?

Carolyn tried to head butt the man, but he must have expected the attack and moved his head to the side. She wriggled and flexed her arms, but he locked one hand around the wrist of the other and held her fast as the woman rushed to wrap chains around her just above the man’s hold. She instantly felt her skin burning, and the vampiric strength leached from her arms and legs. The chains must have silver in them.

“Keep her still,” the man in front of her demanded.

Her hands were yanked behind her back and tied with rough rope that tore at her skin. At the same time, duct tape replaced the hand over her mouth, then her mask was torn from her face, and tossed aside. She prayed someone—anyone would come out and save her. Darius had to have noticed her absence by now.

The woman stepped closer and sucked in a sharp breath. “She’s been bitten by a vampire. Check her mouth.”

The man who seemed to be in charge gripped her arm cruelly and yanked her down a dark path. “That can wait. We have to get out of here first. We’ll check her in the van.”

She struggled which only caused the ropes to cut deeper and her to stumble losing a shoe. She limping along as best she could in one high heel. A few feet beyond the lighted patio she spotted one of Darius’s guard’s face down in the bushes. Darius! She screamed in her mind.

Parked on the far side of the garden, a van with its engine running came into view. Her captors yanked her to an abrupt stop and searched left, then right before pulling her from the garden. The side door slid open, and her heart stuttered. The creepiest man she’d ever laid eyes on glared at her from the gaping mouth of the van. The devil, she swore she was staring into the eyes of Satan.

Carolyn screamed behind the tape. She struggled, twisted left and right, losing her other shoe in her efforts to escape. The man holding her snarled. Her arms were jerked so violently, her left shoulder dislocated. The pain stole her breath. Fire, her shoulder was on fire. Every nerve screamed in protest. Bile rose in her throat, filling her mouth with its rancid taste. She swallowed hard, choking on vomit that had no escape.

“Stop fucking around and get her in here,” the devil barked and disappeared into the dark interior.

Uncaring of her condition, they tossed her onto the floor of the van. She landed hard on her injured shoulder. Carolyn’s muffled cry was no more than a whimper behind the tape. Breath sawed in and out of her nose and tears rolled down her face. Darkness threatened to overtake her as she fought to remain conscious. She would not allow herself to be that vulnerable.

The van’s tires screeched as they tore down the street. With each turn, she was tossed from side to side, aggravating her shoulder further. Before she could catch her breath, the woman of the group snatched the tape from her mouth taking a layer of skin with it. Her hair was grabbed, and her head was yanked up.

“Jim, check her for fangs,” the woman demanded.

The man who had been behind her in the garden pushed his fat finger into her mouth. “Shit. She’s been turned or close to it. We better get this done quickly. The vampire will be able to track her.”

“It’s a good thing we used silver coated chains. She could have vampiric strength if it was an exchange.”

The bitch turned her attentions back to Carolyn and snarled, “Who’s your mate? Who will come after you?” Fanatical eyes bore into Carolyn’s as she fought to tear herself free of the crazed woman’s talons. The pain in her shoulder was amplified and joined by slices left in her skin by razor-sharp fingernails. “Damn it, who bit you?” The woman screamed, her face a mask of fury.

“Stop it. You’re hurting me,” Carolyn panted between stabs of agony. Her shoulder voiced its objection to the cruel grip on her arms

The woman bared her teeth. “Oh, I’m sorry, does this hurt?” The woman asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Carolyn screamed as her arm was yanked again.

“Tell me, or I’ll rip your fucking arm off.”

Carolyn snapped her teeth at the hands holding her. If her hands were free, she’d tear the bitch to pieces. “Go to hell.”

Satan turned in his seat and smiled. Malevolence, putrid sweet, filled the confined space. “An interesting turn of phrase. That’s where we’re sending you.” Evil incarnate tossed his head back and barked out a laugh.

Carolyn lost track of time. She was unaware of the tears rolling down her face. Her blurred vision was a result of a combination of tears and pain. Consciousness was spotty at best, which later she would decide was a good thing.

A hard jerk of her upper body whiplashed her head on her neck, and the sound of fabric rending wrenched her from sweet oblivion back to an existence of unbearable pain. Her arms were stretched above her head and her legs spread-eagled. She was tied to heavy wooden posts at all three points. The sear of red-hot agony burned the fog from her mind.

Oh, God. She was on some kind of altar and stripped to the waist, bared to the lecherous gaze of at least thirty men and at least half as many women. They weren’t going to—God, please don’t let them—She couldn’t finish the thought. To think of something was to manifest it into her life. She damn sure wasn’t about to manifest a sexual assault. Shit! She closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She’d thought it.

Suddenly, her eyes popped open. Terror pumped in and out of her lungs. Her scream was unheard behind the gag in her mouth. Satan stood above her, black eyes glittering as he ran a finger the length of her body. From neck to navel.

Then he pulled the black leather glove from one hand and reached for something outside her line of sight. Carolyn’s heart stopped. In his hand was the biggest, sharpest knife she’d ever seen.

“Sir, I’m not sure we have time for that. Her vampire could arrive at any moment.” Carolyn heard the bitch from the van warn.

Satan turned the blade to admire the symbols etched into the metal. “Would you rather I allow her twisted soul to escape? Perhaps it will take up residence in you? I’m sure another pyre could be assembled. It would require little effort.”

Carolyn heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as the woman stepped back. “No, sir. My apologies.”

Satan held the blade aloft and chanted in a strange language. Carolyn turned her wrists and ankles but couldn’t get free. What she did get were more scrapes and rope burns. That was nothing compared with what came next.

Satan, there was no other way to describe the man, lowered the blade, a terrifying manic glitter in his eyes. No! He wasn’t going to… Carolyn screamed as the blade sliced through her skin like a hot knife through butter. The way he flourished the blade dramatically, resembled an insane artist. Cut after cut, the crowd cheered their approval. Then, he touched her skin with his bare hand.

Carolyn’s world spiraled like water down a drain. A vision of her future filled her mind. Her body bloodied and tortured tied to a post atop a pyre. Strange symbols were carved on her chest and belly. Movement caught her eye, and she looked down. Satan cackled as he touched a burning torch to the pyre. What remained of her dress caught fire, the flames rushing to consume the fabric. Flames rose higher, charring the skin from her feet and legs. With each wail of agony, her lungs filled with smoke. Like a bullet from a gun, she shot back to present time. The stench of burnt hair and flesh hung heavy in her nose. She wasn’t going to survive. I’m sorry, Darius, was her last thought before blackness dragged her under once again.

 

*****

 

Darius shivered, emotions not his own prickled the hair on the back of his neck. He sniffed the air and stiffened. Fast as a cobra’s strike he grabbed Nick’s forearm. “Wait. Something isn’t right.” He glanced toward the ballroom doors. “Carolyn should have returned by now.”

He closed his eyes, concentrated on his blood connection with his Muierimei. Ever so slowly, his body turned toward the French doors. “Fuck! I told her to stay indoors.”

He rushed to the garden patio, Nick hot on his heels. He knew she was in trouble. Fear was easy to recognize. It had a scent, a feel, a discordant vibration. His nose wrinkled at the abhorrent funk, and the vibration rioted through his body like a Ping-Pong ball. Empty. The Patio was barren of any and all human presence. Then he spotted the mask he’d given her in the bushes. “Where is the guard?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know. I assigned one to this entrance before the ball began.”

Darius stalked down the path Carolyn had taken. “Secure the other women and then search the area. I want that guard found and questioned.”

Nick activated his earpiece and barked the order.

Etienne emerged from the doorway, glanced at Nick, gave him a nod, and followed Darius.

“Speak to me.”

Darius turned at the sound of Etienne’s voice. He held up a finger to silence his maker. “I’m tracking her blood.” A moment later, he tore through the garden to the street just beyond. Etienne silent but with him. They stopped, Darius focused on the direction his woman had been taken. Then he picked up her lost shoe, and he squatted to inspect the tire marks on the pavement.

“She was forced into a vehicle here. They haven’t gone far. I can still sense her, but the link is weak.”

He felt Etienne’s hand on his shoulder and straightened to his full height to look him in the eyes. “As long as I can feel her, she lives. Come, we haven’t much time. I want two of the guards to stay with the witches. All others go with us. We have Guild members to kill.”

A feral light brightened Etienne’s eyes. “Agreed. I will collect my sword and meet you at the car.”

Darius used his vampiric speed to return to his room. He hated the delay, but he needed his weapons. As he grabbed his sword, he activated his earpiece and ordered Nick and Derick to do the same, as well as gather all but two of the team and reconvene at their vehicle.

Under normal circumstances three minutes was nothing, but the damn Guild could do a lot of damage in that amount of time. With each beat of his heart, the fist squeezed his chest tighter. Sweat beaded on his brow, and adrenaline-laced fear tightened his gut. Her terror became his to bear.

Etienne cleared his throat and waited until he had every man’s attention. “Listen up, gentlemen. We fight this hand to hand. There will be no magic used. Vampiric speed can be utilized if you feel it is necessary. Give the Guild as little reason as possible to target the vampire race. Understood?”

Each man grunted or nodded an assent.

Oh, Jesus. I’m not going to get to her in time. “Faster, Derick. Drive faster. They’re hurting her! Here. Left, turn left,” he shouted as two wheels left the pavement and the g-force threw him against the door.

Ten minutes, or was it ten hours? After what felt like an eternity a long line of cars and vans parked along the edge of the road appeared in the headlights. “Stop! She’s here.”

Unwilling to wait for Derick to brake, Darius threw himself from the car. He tucked and hit the ground with his shoulder, rolling to absorb the impact. On a summersault, he gained his feet and sucked in a breath. There it was. Her scent.

He locked on to the call of her blood, and the notes of patchouli carried on the breeze mixed with the scent of fresh blood. That wasn’t a good sign. She was bleeding, and the iron-rich tang was growing stronger—too much so.

A red haze of fury colored his vision.

“Darius, wait for the team. We must take them as a unit, or some may escape,” Nick commanded.

“There isn’t time,” Darius shot over his shoulder and took off at a dead run.

“Go. We will catch up,” Etienne assured, knowing Darius would hear him even as he disappeared into the long forgotten cemetery.

Darius cut a line straight through the crumbled remains. He leapt over limestone headstones still standing despite the ravage of weather and time. He dodged left around a Mausoleum, and then right to avoid trees that sprang into his path. Nocturnal creatures squeaked in alarm, frozen in place, unable to pinpoint the danger he presented as he flashed past. He was no more than a gust of warm air amongst the long dead as he sped over their resting places, the entirety of his focus honed in on one thing. Carolyn.

Raised voices and cheers were an affront, and fueled his white-hot wrath. In his mind, he yelled what he couldn’t utter aloud without warning the enemy that he was near. Carolyn!

As he topped a ridge, the others joined him to rush the valley below. The cemetery was vast in size, the perfect place for the Guild to carry out their heinous crimes. No one would hear them or witness the murder of his Muierimei. His senses were no longer required to locate his woman. Even though he was still a distance away, he could see her limp form, tied atop a pyre. Her chin rested upon her bloodied, bare chest.

Oh, Christ. No! He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t be too late.

As they drew near, the men spread out to attack from all sides. Etienne shouted the order, and each engaged the Guild member nearest their position.

Rafe caught his man off-guard and relieved him of his head. He immediately turned to meet an attack from his left. The shock that he was about to fight a woman lasted all of a heartbeat. The she-cat swiped at him with a blade, and the game was on.

Sean wasn’t as lucky. His target saw him at the last second and drew a weapon. Blades clashed and broke apart. He circled and parried with the human who apparently was a trained swordsman. With a flick of his wrist, Sean drew first blood. The human quickly repaid the compliment with a slice to Sean’s shoulder. He was done playing nice. There were other fish to fry and a woman to rescue. Using vampiric speed, he slashed the human’s neck and left him to bleed out.

Etienne wasted no time. He slashed the first human he came to from ear to ear and then spun to slice another in half. Like a bad horror movie the torso slid to the ground, and then the legs teetered before joining its upper half in the dirt. A woman rushed at him from the left. With the ease of an Olympic gymnast, he jumped into the air and did a flip to land behind her and buried his blade into her back.

Derick was more clean and efficient. He didn’t give the Guild a chance to fight back. Using his speed, he went from one to the next cutting off heads as he passed.

Nick fought like a man possessed. He mowed through the humans like a bulldozer. He paused to find another opponent and spotted Darius with his flank exposed.

“Darius, behind you!” Nick yelled as two Guild members rushed him.

He was one step away from reaching the pyre and rescuing Carolyn when a Guild member came out of the shadows. With the agility of a cat, Darius twisted right at the warning. He bared his fangs and attacked the fanatic with a warriors cry. Merciless, hellish retribution would be Carolyn’s, and he was her sword. He sliced his blade across the man’s chest. The razor-sharp edge of his weapon cut clear to the bone.

The puny human screamed like a little girl.

“This is for my woman.” With the precision of a surgeon, he carved a symbol on the man’s face identical to one of the symbols that had been cut into his Muierimei.

The man gave an unearthly shriek and fell at his feet. Darius raised his sword and thrust the blade into the member’s chest, piercing the heart.

Before he could turn back to the pyre, two more men were upon him. Even as he squared off with his attackers, he was aware of the war raging around him. Nick tossed a limp body aside. Its throat ripped out, carotid spewing a shower of red across the sacred ground. Derick had tired of lopping off heads and pinned a member to a tree with his sword. Etienne was poetry in motion, his sword ever in motion, movements as flowing as a ballet dancer, with nary a drop of blood to mar his tailored suit. But it was the Guild’s president that caused him to pause, a mistake he paid for with blood.

Darius turned his back on his attackers, trusting his team to dispatch them. He had to stop the president. Two things took place simultaneously, the president lit the pyre, and searing pain dropped Darius to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man raise his weapon again. Darius rolled right, flipped to his feet and seized the enemy’s jaw. With a flick of his wrist, bones cracked and tendons severed. The Guild member screamed, his unhinged jaw hanging slack. On an upward thrust, Darius buried his sword under the man’s rib cage piercing both lungs. Without slowing, he withdrew the blade and shoved the corpse aside.

He pivoted left, swung his sword in an arc, and slashed the second man from pelvis to throat. Agonized screams filled the night as smoke clouded his vision.

“Carolyn!”

 

*****

 

Carolyn came to and blinked. What? Where? She was no longer laid out like a sacrificial lamb on an altar. Her foot slipped sideways and rolled off of something roundish. She glanced down and frowned. Why was she up so high and were those logs under her feet?

Her exhale stopped midway from her lungs to her lips. Her vision flashed before her eyes. Hyperventilation started in earnest. Hysteria threatened to climb up her throat, choke off her air, and send her back to unconsciousness.

“Darius!” she screamed at the top of her lungs for the only man who could save her.

Carolyn tugged at the ropes that bound her, twisted her ankles left and right. She was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and about to be the recipient of the same fate. She shook her head rejecting what she couldn’t deny. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. She never saw her own future. Never. But then she had, hadn’t she? She’d had a vision of her and Darius with children after the blood exchange. How could she die now and still have a future? The blood exchange must have messed with her gift and made it wonky. She shook her head again to clear her mind. She didn’t have time to waste on her gift.

Satan came toward her, the movement catching her eye. Carolyn’s heart stuttered. He had a torch. A lit torch! Oh. God! He’s going to burn me alive.

“So glad you could rejoin us,” he said in a voice that was all gravel and malice. “It’s much more satisfying when the witch screams.”

“No, please. You don’t want to do this. I’m not a witch. You have the wrong person.”

Satan laughed and turned to address the crowd that had gathered at the base of the pyre, “Do you hear that? We have the wrong person.”

Laughter trickled through the onlookers.

“Next she will tell us she’s a …”

Satan’s diatribe trailed off as men with swords entered the clearing.

The swordsmen split up, each engaging the enemy. That was when she recognized Darius and the other vampires. She sagged or would have if there were any give in the ropes. Thank God, they would get her out of here before the rest of her vision came to fruition.

Darius held her full attention. The way he moved took her breath away. Graceful as a jungle cat, he closed the distance between them, not a hint of mercy in the hard lines of his face. His eye’s blazed amber, and narrowed with unswerving intent.

She swore she heard him say her name but couldn’t be sure as she was no longer looking at him. Satan was back with death gleaming in his eyes. To her horror, he smiled at her, then touched his torch to the pile of wood she was staked atop.

Greedy flames raced toward her. The ragged hem of her dress caught fire. She twisted to evade the flames but found no escape. The agony of burned flesh tore a scream from her throat. The foul odor of cooked flesh and burnt hair filled her nose. A moment later, her feet and legs were engulfed in flames. Blessed relief of unconsciousness swept her away from the pain to sweet, sweet oblivion.