Darkness Avenged

She simply couldn’t accept a world without the woman who had given birth to her.



“You killed my mother?” she rasped.



“Gaius was kind enough to perform the deed on our way to his lair in Louisiana,” the creature murmured, speaking of Gaius as if he were a separate being.



She shook her head.



Dead.



“I . . . I can’t believe it.”



Gaius dismissed her distress with a wave of his hand. “Once again I was to be disappointed, but I was growing stronger every day. So long as the book remained hidden it couldn’t do any harm.” Gaius reached over to trail an icy finger down her cheek, tracing the path of her unconscious tears. “But then it called you here.”



With a shudder of revulsion she took a hasty step backward, forcing her fogged mind to concentrate on the danger standing directly in front of her.



She would work through her grief and regret for her mother if she managed to survive the night.



Something that was looking increasingly unlikely.



“Called me?” she shook her head. “No, I came because I wanted Gaius out of the house.”



“If it hadn’t been that, it would have drawn you here by some other means,” he assured her. “It felt my presence. It would have done whatever was necessary to get into your hands.”



She glanced toward the hole in the wall where she could feel the steady pulse of the black spell.



A spell that had caused the death of thirteen witches, including her mother. And was now her supposed legacy.



“Why?” She turned back to the creepy, glowing eyes. “What’s in the book?”



“It doesn’t matter,” he countered, clearly unwilling to reveal the truth of the book. “Once you’re dead the book will be destroyed once and for all.”



Sally braced herself, muttering an attack spell beneath her breath. She didn’t believe it would actually damage the vampire, or whatever the hell was controlling him, but it was all she had.



Then, even as she felt a massive power beginning to build in the room, Gaius was suddenly turning toward the door, his hiss of annoyance scraping over Sally’s raw nerves.



“I warned you, Santiago,” he growled, seeming to forget Sally. “Now Nefri will pay for your arrogance.”



Chapter 27



Santiago didn’t do helpless.



After he’d been pulled out of the Gladiator pits beneath Barcelona, he’d sworn that he’d never again be in a position where he was at the mercy of another.



A mistake, of course.



He should have known that the minute he’d made that bitter pledge, it would curse him. Life was nothing if not perverse, and what could be more destined to force him to face his worst nightmare than declaring it could never happen again?



Now he stood next to Nefri, his muscles quivering as he battled his urge to charge across the floor of the warehouse and rip off Gaius’s head.



He told himself he was biding his time.



That was why he’d agreed to kidnap the witch despite his grand pronouncement he would never, ever betray his brothers. And why he was standing here like a damned mannequin while the bastard revealed the truth of his reason for traveling to the warehouse.



He’d left his clue with Styx on the off-chance that the Anasso would be able to track them. And then positioned himself so he would be able to grab Nefri and escape if the opportunity presented itself.



Tonya, after all, had been left behind in Wisconsin and by now should have been able to create a portal to take her back to his club. So all he had to worry about was the female standing like a statue beside him.



But, while he could pretend he had some sort of control over the situation, the moment Gaius glanced in their direction he knew it was an empty lie.



He’d become a helpless pawn who had not only used his connection to the Anasso to kidnap an innocent young female, but he’d led his brothers to this warehouse all because he was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to protect Nefri.



And now . . .



Now he could sense Styx and at least four other vampires approaching the warehouse and Nefri’s power beginning to swell in an awful tidal wave of looming destruction.



Rock, meet hard place, a voice mocked in the back of his mind.



For all his efforts he’d done nothing more than make matters worse.



So what the hell was he going to do now?



Styx and his vampires would be breaking through the door in less than a heartbeat. At the same time Gaius would send Nefri into a mindless bloodlust. The battle between the vampires would be epic and violent and lethal.



Which meant that he had less than a nano-second to choose between two very bad, very awful decisions.



He picked the very awful one.



And more importantly, the one that Gaius would never have prepared for.



Not giving himself time to think, he reached down to snatch a stray piece of rebar off the floor. Then, as Nefri trembled beneath the surge of bloodlust, he stepped behind her and with one smooth motion he slammed the bar against the back of her head to send her crumpling to the ground.



The blow was hard enough to knock her out, but not hard enough to cause permanent damage. Which meant he would only have a few minutes to come up with a better plan before she was awake and on the rampage.



Using the fury that boiled through him at being forced to hurt the female he loved, Santiago turned and charged Gaius. With a roar, he pinned the vampire to the wall by the simple process of shoving the rebar through his heart and into the brick wall. Then with a twist he bent the rebar so it would be damned painful for Gaius to pull his way free.



Without missing a beat, he’d raced to slam shut the steel door that was the only entrance into the room beyond the windows covered by thick boards. Then, grabbing the handle, he yanked it upward, feeling the lock twist until it was jammed.



Only then did he spin on his heel to return and glare at the creature who’d caused nothing but pain and misery since its arrival in this world.



Pinned against the wall, the . . . thing seemed impervious to the rebar that was stuck through his heart, his eyes glowing with a hectic light even as the sluggish blood dripped from the hole in his chest.



But Santiago didn’t miss the grayish hue of his skin and the way his clothes hung on his limp frame, almost as if he were shrinking with every passing second.



“Brutal, yet efficient. You make me proud,” Gaius taunted. “Unfortunately, it will do you no good.”



“I’m not done,” Santiago growled, reaching behind his back to pull the pugio from where he’d shoved it into his jeans pocket.



Gaius’s face remained slack, but Santiago sensed his surprise at the sight of the ancient dagger with its lethal silver blade.



“You can kill this host, but I’ll simply take another,” he warned.



Santiago’s lips stretched into a humorless smile as he pressed the tip of the dagger to the center of his chest. “I’m betting that you can’t take control of me before I stick this in my heart.”



Gaius hissed, the glowing eyes narrowing at Santiago’s threat. “Harm yourself and I will simply use the witch.”



“I doubt it. You need her dead.” Santiago shrugged. “Not the best qualification for a host.”



Gaius shifted his head to stare at the mutilated door, his frustration battering against Santiago’s emotions. “Your fellow vampires are swiftly approaching. Once they realize the door is blocked they’ll find another way in.”



He clenched his teeth against the swell of irritation, savagely reminding himself he was being manipulated. “But soon enough?” he managed to rasp.



“Time is meaningless,” the creature smoothly countered. “We have an eternity.”



Santiago gave a slow shake of his head, his gaze lowering to where the flesh around the rebar remained a raw, bleeding wound. It should have been healing by now.



“I don’t think so. You’re starting to fray around the edges,” he said. “The question is . . . why?”



The hesitation was so brief that it would have been easy to miss. “I need to feed.”



Santiago gave another shake of his head. Vampires might take longer to heal when they needed to feed. And even begin to look skeletal if they’d been starved long enough.



But they didn’t begin to decompose.



Besides, if this . . . thing needed to feed, why wasn’t he feasting on the witch’s tangible fear? Or even his own fury?



“No.”



“No, I don’t need to feed?”



Santiago narrowed his gaze. “It’s more than that.”



Without warning Sally took a step forward, her arms wrapped around her slender waist. “The book,” she said.



Santiago jerked his head toward the gaping hole in the wall where Gaius and this witch seemed to be convinced a book was hidden.



“Of course.” He grimaced. He should have suspected the book was the culprit from the minute he noticed Gaius’s impression of a zombie. If the bastard was willing to risk everything to get his hands on it, then it was obviously his kryptonite. “It must be draining him.”



Gaius didn’t bother answering. Instead his attention shifted to the sound of footsteps outside the door.