A Cursed Bloodline (WG 4) (23 page)

“Celia, this is a ton of money. Where did it come from?”

He was probably worried I’d stolen it from the vampires. “Most of it I’ve saved throughout the years. Some of it is from the work I’ve done for Misha. The war has been profitable for him and the other masters.”

Danny’s eyes darted over the wads of bills. “What were you saving it for?” he asked quietly.

I stared at the contents on the bed, but said nothing.

“Celia?”

It was humiliating, but I told him anyway. “I always knew that I’d end up alone, and that my sisters would marry and move on without me. This money was going to help me start a new life on my own.”

Danny shook his head. “My God, Celia. You really believed that?”

I closed my lids tight and tried to swallow the ache building in my throat. “If I’d never met Aric I would have been fine—I wouldn’t have liked it, but I was prepared, you know?”

He squeezed my arm. “Celia, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. If I can get Misha back, I know he’ll help me disappear.” I hugged my belly and managed a weak smile. “My baby and I will be safe, and I’ll never be alone.”

Tim rapped on the door. “We’re ready to go, Celia.”

“I’ll be right down.” I waited until I heard him leave, then grabbed my backpack and threw it over my shoulder.

Danny handed me a tissue from the unicorn tissue dispenser and then took one for himself. The unicorn whinnied and the horn lit up. “Keep Tye with you at all times,” he whispered. “Anara can’t control him, he’s not Pack. And if the vampires turn against you, he’ll help keep you safe.”

I took his hand in mine. “If I don’t come back, take Bren and run. You won’t be able to keep him safe without the vampires. You have all the papers, including forged medical records, that will allow you to travel with him.”

Danny nodded and stared hard at the floor. “Celia, about Aric—”

“Aric will be fine. He has his mate and he’ll have his own family soon enough.” I wasn’t Emme. I didn’t have it in me to be happy for him.

Danny held my face in his hands and blinked back more tears. “You’re wrong, Celia…about everything. Come back safely and I’ll prove it.”

We hugged, but neither of us could say goodbye. Danny was the first friend I’d ever made.

Now he was my family.

—

As Emme and I embraced, her tears poured out like rain. I fought to keep it together, finally breaking away from her before I lost my nerve. I kissed Bren’s forehead and raced out of the house with Tye, only to be stopped by one of the vampires staying behind. He handed me a large cream-colored envelope. “This just arrived for you by courier, Mistress.”

I opened it and couldn’t believe my eyes. My stare was so intense I thought my anger would set the expensive paper on fire.

Tye leaned over me. “What is it?”

“An invitation to a luncheon at the Den, in honor of Anara’s appointment to the North American Were Council,” I bit out. My hands crumpled the paper into a ball. Had Anara delivered it himself I would have rammed it down his goddamn throat.

My phone buzzed as we barreled onto the landing strip. I checked the screen…and time stood still. The text was brief, but hit me like an eighteen-wheeler sliding over ice.

Don’t go. Aric

I deleted the message at once, and tried not to think about why he’d sent it. It was better to think he considered Misha unworthy of being saved, and not—definitely not—because he still cared for me.

“He likes playing games, doesn’t he?”

Tye lounged beside me in the limo. I wasn’t surprised he saw the message nor was I shocked by the annoyed bark to his tone. I shoved the phone deep into my pack. “It doesn’t matter.”

I practically kicked the door open and dashed toward the luxurious jet. The vampires chasing me hissed, their growing anxiety and anticipation making them restless. My anxiety and anticipation churned my stomach. I raced to the rear of the plane and hurled in the bathroom. Stunned silence greeted me when I finally rejoined the vamps in the cabin. Once again, my leadership and stability were in question.

Maria shoved a bottle of water in my hand. “For mercy’s sake, take a sip.”

“And a Valium,” Tim muttered.

The water bottle bounced off his bald head when I threw it at him. Maria flashed me some fang, seemingly impressed, and passed me another bottle. I grabbed it and searched for the closest window seat. Edith and Agnes had strategically positioned themselves on either side of Tye. He left them to sit with me. The moment I buckled in, Hank whistled and the plane readied for takeoff.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly. I had to rest, if only for a short while. No sooner did we reach altitude than a sharp image of Misha appeared in my mind. I jolted upright. “Shit. They’re moving him again. Get me a map of Guatemala.”

Agnes opened the map and spread it out on the wide table in front of me. I looked around at all the names of the cities until one grabbed my attention. I pointed. “There. They’ll be in Escuintla by morning.”

Hank rubbed his arm and examined the map. “That’s near a seaport. Are they planning to ship the master somewhere?”

“I don’t know.”

Edith tugged on my long-sleeved T-shirt. “How does the master look?”

The image of Misha had not been a pretty one. His once sleek and shimmering hair lay in greasy clumps mixed with dirt. Deep gashes covered his filthy arms and chest. His wounds told me two things: his captors whipped him regularly, and that they weren’t feeding him enough blood.

Edith tugged harder. “Well?”

“Hungry.” I didn’t lie. Misha was falling further into bloodlust.

“You have to tell us more than that!” Edith demanded to know what I’d seen, yet I wasn’t sure she could handle it.

“Just tell us,” Tim asked. “Please, Celia.”

I sighed. “He’s lying in filth…and they’re whipping him.”

The fury that filled the plane incited my tigress to growl. The vampires bowed their heads out of respect for me as their current mistress. Had they held me responsible for Misha’s suffering, they’d have torn me to pieces and played volleyball with my liver. In a strange way, perhaps it was the pep talk they needed. If they weren’t ready to slaughter before, they certainly were then.

“You need to contact him.” Tye’s voice was calm, but he’d leapt to his feet in attack stance when he sensed the vamps’ rage unleash.

“I don’t think I can do that.” I looked around. “You forget, we’re not mates—we’re not bonded.”

“It’s not about being mates.” Tye raised my arm and traced a line down with his finger. “It’s about a master vampire passing you his
call
. That’s like an indestructible cellphone with unlimited service, dovie. If he can contact you, you sure as hell can reach him.”

“It hasn’t worked in the past, Tye.”

Maria stood. “Take a nap. Make certain your very last thought is of de master. You’ll be sure to reach him then.”

Tye lifted me to my feet when I hesitated. “Celia, you have to try. Your presence will help him to fight the bloodlust. There’s no sense in rescuing him if he’s going to try to eat us.”

Though I had my doubts, a nap sounded good. I walked into the rear of the plane to the ultramodern suite and spread out on the bed. Tye rolled next to me. I punched the pillow beneath my head and tried to settle. “Is this really necessary?”

He flashed me one of his more lionlike smiles. “I’m just here to keep the scary leeches away.”

My lids drooped. “Oh, is that all?”

“That, and to brag to my friends that I finally got you in bed.”

I laughed. “Just don’t write anything on the bathroom wall about me.”

I flipped to my side. Exhaustion weighed on me like a brick in water. I drifted away, but it wasn’t into sleep. Instead I appeared outside an old barn. Humidity slicked my skin despite the late-night hour and neglected palm trees grew like weeds along the garbage-strewn yard.
Where am I?

The barn door was thrown open and an old woman hurried out, dragging a young teen by her long dark hair. I dove behind a rusted pickup truck before they could see me.
“Estupida,”
the woman admonished in a low voice.
“No le hagas caso a lo que te prometen esos diablos.”

Deep-throated laughter echoed from within the barn. The males inside were either
weres
or vampires to have heard the woman scolding the girl for believing their promises. But even if their keen sense of hearing hadn’t given them away, I knew only preternaturals could imprison a master vamp. Misha
called
to me, luring me forward with a tangible pull.

I snuck through the crack of the open door. Dirt mixed with dry grass and old cow manure made up the floor. Pigs squealed with fright from their pen in the corner. Darkness swallowed most of the dilapidated structure except for a small dim bulb hanging from the rafters. My tigress eyes came forward, permitting me to see while I hid behind a splintered stall.

Three wereoxen stood facing Misha where he’d been staked to the wall. At first it didn’t make sense why he didn’t yank his limbs free. While his muscles and bones would be damaged, in a bloodlust state, a vampire was stronger. He could feast on his captors, mend, and then easily escape.

Misha raised his head and hissed through his fangs. The three
weres
answered him by lifting their guns and firing. My heart resumed beating only after I realized he’d been struck with tranquilizers instead of bullets. His head and shoulders slumped. One by one, his muscles ejected the darts. They clinked as they fell against the pile at his feet.

My plan was simple: break the neck of the
were
closest to me and
shift
the other two underground before they realized what had happened. I crept behind the wereox and attacked, falling when my arms went right through his body. I landed in a crouch, growling and ready to fight. No one reacted. That’s when I realized I was nothing more than an apparition despite my ability to sense my surroundings. My mind worked through how I could use my invisibility to my advantage until the
were
reaching for a whip ground my thoughts to a halt.

The whip soared through my chest, striking Misha’s face, chest, and groin and inciting laughter from the group. I wrenched my body away, unable to watch. The
were
closest to me backed away into a stall and lifted a half-empty bottle of tequila from an old plastic table. He took a few swigs, filling his mouth before spitting the rank fluid on Misha’s open wounds.

They each took turns lashing Misha, until the last grew bored and dropped the blood-smeared whip on the ground. The tip shimmered. It had been dipped in cursed gold.
Shit
. No wonder the strikes had been so effective.

The group returned to the table and resumed their card game, passing what remained of the tequila. I didn’t want to see the damage they’d inflicted yet I realized Misha had summoned me for a reason. I cringed. The gashes dug deep enough to expose his ribs. His head slumped lifelessly against his chest, and he wheezed with every breath.

Without thinking, I reached to touch him. I couldn’t feel his skin directly, but I did sense a twinge of something, like skimming the surface of water.

“Celia,” he rasped.

“Yes, Misha. I’m here.” I tried to push his hair back. And while I felt that strange sensation, I failed to move the matted strands from his face.

He spoke between harsh gasps. “I fear…my time…has come.”

My tears moistened the dirty barn floor. “Don’t say that. We’re close. You have to stay strong.”

His eyes shot open, illuminating in that horrible shade of green.
“Tell me you love me.”

I barely recognized his voice. When I didn’t answer he winked and bared his famously wicked grin. “Please,” he added, a little less psychotically.

Under the circumstances, I shouldn’t have laughed, but I did as I continued to weep. The hint of humor proved he wasn’t too far gone. “I love you, Misha.”

He smiled again. And although his eyes continued to shine in that sickly green, they held the same tenderness he’d often demonstrated in my presence. “Tell me you’ll be my bride.”

My arms encircled his neck. Dirt and salt from his sweat masked his normal scent of sex and chocolate. “Don’t push it, Misha.”

Misha chuckled and rubbed his face against my hair. “Will you join me soon?”

“Yes, your family and I are coming for you.”

His body trembled. “Will there be blood?”

I glanced from the whip lying carelessly on the filthy floor to the
weres,
who kept their guns close to their sides. “Yes, Misha. There will be blood.”

Chapter Twenty-one

The doors crashed open. The woman who stomped in brought the
weres
scrambling to their feet. She stood about my height, with curly brown hair down to her shoulders, eyes as black as midnight, and dark olive skin marred by years of sun exposure. A soiled T-shirt and cotton skirt covered her stout figure over bare legs. Varicosities raked her shins like old tree roots, and worn flip-flops encased her dirty feet. Anyone human would have mistaken her for an average peasant woman, but I wasn’t human and neither was Misha.

I released Misha and swerved to face her, only to tense from the vile odor of magic seeping from her pores. The
weres
rushed to bow before her. It might have seemed comical for someone like her to intimidate such cruel-looking males. Yet I recognized this woman was nothing to laugh at.

Her voice was gruff and her lips pursed in displeasure.
“¿Porque no le han dado de comer al vampiro?”

“Lo siento, Lucinda.”

Rather than explaining why Misha hadn’t been fed, the largest wereox apologized and raced toward the pigpen. He snatched a medium-sized hog by his hind leg and dragged the shrieking creature across the dirt floor.

My head jerked toward Misha. “They’re feeding you pig’s blood?”

Degradation hollowed Misha’s stare. “Go.”

“¿Quien esta aqui?”
Lucinda scanned the area surrounding Misha, demanding to know who was there.