Chapter Sixty
She knew what she had to do. She was damn lucky Minerva had managed to warn her not to use her last two bullets. She would need them both.
But that was all it would take. And then this would be over.
Helena waited for the last of the vast stream of magic to enter the gun’s chamber, then she raised her head to take aim at the man attacking her King. But she never had a chance to pull the trigger. Just as his horrible red gaze met hers, a bolt of hardened power struck her in the chest with such force, she was knocked senseless.
Darkness engulfed her. Distantly, she felt herself moving and sensed the numb jarring of the impacts her body must have endured, but it was separate from her, ripped away from her consciousness by Ahriman’s blow. She waited for the darkness to pass, but it stayed firmly wrapped around her. So she waited in the darkness for her sight and hearing to return, but they were taking their sweet time.
At last, she wondered if she might be dying.
“Nah, you’ll live,” came a deep voice that sliced through the silence, opening it up wide.
In the darkness, Helena frowned. She recognized that voice, and she hadn’t expected to ever hear it again.
Sheer curiosity alone at last forced her to open her eyes. She was in the dirt again, blades of grass once more slicing through her blurred vision. But when she looked up over them, it was to find that Cain the First Vampire had taken a knee beside her… and he was holding her gun.
For some reason, the first thing out of her mouth was, “Damn. I dropped it.”
Cain chuckled, the beautiful sound infusing Helena’s body so hard, she closed her eyes again. She felt drunk. Ahriman had done something to her. Something wrong. Evil magic coursed through her veins, disrupting her blood cells and the power within them. She was having a hard time focusing on anything at all.
What did he do to me? she wondered.
“He knows he can’t kill you,” said Cain. “So he’s trying to put you out of commission.”
Helena blinked back up at the vampire. He looked the same as he had not an hour ago, when she’d sent him back to 1968. But he also looked different. Same hair, same striking blue eyes, same towering build. Different clothes, different boots, more leather.
And there was an edge to him now that spoke of experience. Which was odd, since he’d already been thousands of years old. This was just a different kind of experience.
The gun seemed natural in his grip where he held it safely pointed away. It looked like it fit him. But Helena knew the bullets inside were uniquely precious. They’d been infused with the magic of all Thirteen Queens. She had a job to do and almost no time left to do it in.
I can’t let everyone down.
“You also can’t stand,” said the First Vampire with a sexy smile. Helena’s gaze narrowed. Was that true? She tried to move, and at once more of the drunk sensation washed through her, extreme dizziness and all. The ground tilted, and she tried to grab it and hold on.
“He got you good,” said Cain. “Lucky I came along.”
“Luck, aye, and magic yae mean. Yae got here early, yae daft fool.”
Helena’s eyes flew open wide. Holy shit, she thought. I know that voice too!
“It’s a good thing I did,” replied Cain easily. She heard him stand beside her. “Ahriman hit her hard.”
“Yae’re right about that. This is a boner of a spell.”
She felt someone else kneel beside her, and again she tried to look up. “Lucky?” she whispered through her dizziness. A wavering face came smiling into vision.
“Aye, lass,” the leprechaun said. “It’s mae. But don’t yae move a muscle. I’ll have that magic negated in no time. Just rest.”
“I can see that she rests eternally if that’s what you –”
A third voice came to Helena, this one female and vicious. Amunet had entered the scene, and now Helena really wished Ahriman’s fucking spell would leave her alone so she could get to her damn feet and pull the damn trigger. But all she could do was lay there and listen as the Nomad woman obviously stopped dead cold when she saw Cain.
Helena felt Lucky’s hands on her. Fae magic instantly began to infuse her, filling her up like clean water that washed away the fuzziness and weakness inch by inch.
“Cain?” asked Amunet shakily. She sounded confused. Uncertain. Hurt, even.
Cain the vampire said nothing. Helena wondered what he was doing, but he was out of her line of sight.
“But I… I don’t sense you here, son,” continued Amunet, her voice growing tighter with emotion. Maybe she thought she was seeing a ghost. Or maybe she thought she was imagining this and she’d simply gone mad.
No, Helena thought. People that crazy never admitted it.
“What are you?” Amunet finally asked, her tone fully tightened now and hard as nails.
Helena opened her eyes as the last of Ahriman’s spell was counteracted and she regained full control over her body. Her vision was no longer blurry either; she met Lucky’s sparkling dark gaze.
He nodded a small nod, just once, and she understood. She needed to take the gun and shoot, damn it. End this.
But the moment she sprung to her feet and reached out with her telekinetic version of The Force to bring the gun to her, Amunet spun and slammed her with yet another bolt of hardened power. This one sent Helena sailing into a nearby tree, where she scraped by it just enough to peel more skin from her body, utterly mess up her hair, and ruin her plan.
From where Helena landed, she looked up through her nest of hair, leaves, and tiny broken branches just as Cain raised the gun instead.
Amunet slowly turned around to face him. Her amber burning gaze slipped to the weapon in his capable grip. She must have known what waited inside. Maybe she could feel it, because her face went very pale, and her body went very still.
“Cain…” she whispered, palpable and immeasurable pain filling that one word so full, it hit the brim and spilled over.
But he still said nothing. And when he at last pulled the trigger – that pain was put to rest once and for all.