Blind Salvage (19 page)

She’s not Berget; just remember that.

Easier said than done. Berget’s blue eyes widened and she put a hand to Pamela’s throat, squeezing just enough to get Pamela to react.

Berget tipped her head again to the side. “You would kill me?”

“Let her go,” I said, walking toward them.

She tipped her head from side to side, not shaking it, but touching it to her shoulders, back and forth. Her eyes clouded and the blue faded to a shimmering green. The color of the late Empress’ eyes. Doran hadn’t been kidding about where Berget’s powers had come from. When she spoke, her voice had a lilting accent to it, one that was most definitely not her own.

“I will kill her one day, but not today if you agree to help me. You are a Tracker, and the prophecies state that you must help me find the last of the Blood.”

Of course, maybe if things had been just between me and Berget, maybe I could have convinced her. Or at least I would have had a better chance than with what happened next.

Faris strolled into the ballroom, taking us full circle. Hell, the only difference was this time Alex was with us. I glanced down at him. He’d moved back to stand with me and Liam, but he hadn’t gone back to being submissive; he still had his teeth bared and he continually grumbled under his breath.

“Bad, bad, yuppy doody, bad.”

Berget’s hold on Pamela tightened. “Well, isn’t this lovely, we’re all back together again.”

Faris held up one hand, as if he was going to beseech her. “I wouldn’t say that. You have not a single vampire here with you. Only servants. That is a rather large change.”

Her eyes narrowed and her hand tightened on Pamela’s throat. Damn it all, what was he trying to do, get Pamela killed?

But his words made me take a quick look around. Hell fire, he was right. None of those who stood with her were vampires, but servants. The differences were subtle, darker skin, their movements were slower, and their eyes had zero hypnotic effect. Things I’d learned
after
my last encounter with them.

Servants. Only mildly easier to kill than a true vampire. That explained the effectiveness of the firebombs.

“Berget.” I lifted my sword, pointing it at her head. “Let her go. You asked me to save you, but I can’t save you if you keep putting those I love at death’s door.”

With a laugh, she pushed Pamela to her knees. “I never asked you to save me. And what would you save me from? A life of power? A life where I ruled the world of the supernatural and the humans?”

I stepped closer, my sword tip never wavering. “Yes. I would save you from those things.” Gods be damned, I would fight for those I loved time and again, no matter how much they hurt me.

A flaw that would likely get me killed, but for the first time, I truly embraced it. She was my sister, and I would fight for her until I could fight no more.

Where there is life, there is hope.
I hated clichés. Even when they were true.

Her hand tightened on Pamela until her face went bright red. “I will kill her if you take a step closer.”

Pamela lashed out, yanking the bowie knife from her back and slashing Berget across the face. An arc of blood spurted out across Pamela’s shirt, splattering her in a brilliant red splash. But Berget didn’t flinch, just reached out and snatched the knife from Pamela, acting as if it hadn’t happened. As her face healed up, I realized that for her, in a way, it hadn’t happened. It was an inconsequential moment in her life.

We were so screwed.

Tense, I stared my little sister down. “I will kill you if you end her life. No matter what is between us, Sister.”

Another truth, the dark side of the same coin; I would kill her if she killed Pamela.

“Then we are at a standoff. One where no one wins, everyone dies, and the world goes on as it was.” Berget tossed her hair. “Completely unacceptable.”

“I agree.”

We all turned to the newcomer who stepped into the room to the far left of us.

Milly, dressed all in black with a long dark green cloak that brushed the ground.

What. The. Fuck.

She lifted her hands and a bolt of lightning slammed between Pamela and Berget, sending Pamela skidding across the floor to Milly’s feet. Milly bent and pulled the girl upright.

“Rylee, I see you’re up to your neck again,” she said, never looking my way.

I managed to get my shock under control. “Same old, same old.”

Berget stood at the back of the room, glaring at me, fury etched into her face. “You think you can end this with your witches? I will show you power.”

She flung her hands toward Milly and Pamela, and while Pamela flinched, she snapped her hands up to brace against the flow of death coming at them, sweat sliding down her face. I’d never seen her so determined, so damn fierce. Her lips were pressed to a thin line and her brows were drawn deep over her eyes with the intensity of her concentration. While she defended, Milly attacked. The spell she unleashed wasn’t a death spell, but one of light, the brilliant splash of magic slamming between the three women blasted my eyes and I had to look away. With a triumphant yell, Milly forced Berget back, step by step.

“You cannot win, vampire. Not against both of us.”

As a team, Pamela and Milly were beyond formidable. They were downright fucking scary. And I could see already in Milly the calculations, of what she could accomplish if she brought Pamela under her tutelage. The way her eyes darted to the younger witch as they fought side by side. Shit, that could not happen.

Minutes passed and finally the standoff broke in a rather anti-climatic way. Berget bolted, flinging her hand back toward Milly and Pamela one last time before disappearing through an archway and into the darkness of the tunnels.

The crackle of flames behind us was the only sound as the firebombs continued to eat at the walls.

I lowered my sword, but realized too late that we were far from done. The sound of the flames was drowned out by a new sound. One that was, in it’s own way, far more deadly. Especially considering the simple fact that we were far underground. Far from any semblance of rescue.

I stepped back, understanding what was coming a split second before it happened. Water, thick and dirty, erupted out of the tunnels and swept toward us in a wave that threatened to swallow us whole.

Damn it all to hell and back, here we go again.

T
here was no
time for thinking, no time for anything but running.

“Move.” I shouted as I bolted toward Milly, grabbed Pamela’s hand, and headed for the stairs, the water already up over my ankles and deepening with each breath I took. Our only saving grace was the narrow tunnels keeping the water from flooding us out within seconds. A glance back showed me Milly was gone. Probably jumped the veil, leaving us to our own devices. Nice, really nice.

Liam and Alex were right with us, quickly passing us to lead the way. Pamela stumbled halfway up the stairs, and I pulled her to her feet as the footing below us began to crumble, a wave of water slopping up and over us both as we sank. Hands yanked us up and out of the water.

“No dawdling now,” Faris said calmly, as he pulled Pamela out and Liam pulled me from the ink black, angry water. Faris helping us was the least of my concerns, though. My vision was obscured by water and the flickering lights as they were doused, one by one. Again, I grabbed Pamela’s hand, but this time I jerked her away from Faris. Whatever his game was, we didn’t have time for it. He laughed, shaking his head as if I’d delivered a punch line to a particularly funny anecdote. I would never understand vampires, not if I lived to be a hundred. Which, by the way things were going, was not looking like a particularly good possibility.

A groan shuddered through the underground palace, and the walls around us leaned closer, water spurting through cracks that widened before my eyes. Oh we were in trouble. We had to move faster or we weren’t going to make it to our exit across the veil.

I shoved Pamela toward Liam. “Take her.”

He scooped her up into his arms and booted open the door.

He paused before crossing the veil, glanced over his shoulder at me. I shoved him forward as the lights went out, leaving us in a dim shadow, the only light coming to us from through the doorway. “I’m right behind you.”

Only I wasn’t. Liam stepped through, Pamela clinging to his neck, her eyes dull with fatigue and fear. That was my last glimpse of them. I took a step to follow them, Alex right with me. The sound of the roof cracking overhead didn’t give me enough warning. Plaster and chunks of cement fell and with it, and the water over our heads sluiced in with a thunderous rush.

Faris snaked his arms around my waist and jerked me back as the roof fell, and the black water flooded the room and filled my mouth with the taste of death and rotten things. A clawed set of hands gripped my legs as Alex grabbed me, and all I could think was that at least Pamela and Liam had made it.

And at least I wouldn’t die on my own.

Rylee was wrong. She wasn’t right behind him. The water flooded through the door from the veil into the castle, and swept him off his feet. Pamela tumbled out of his arms, hitting the rock ground hard.

Liam spun on the floor and lunged toward the open door. “Pamela, help me!”

Only she didn’t do what he thought she would. He wanted to go back, to yank Rylee out of the water.

Pamela, a groan escaping her, lifted her hand and the water stilled long enough for him to see that there was nothing in the dark water.

Rylee was gone. He stood there, staring into the room where she’d been only a brief moment before, his hands gripping the door jams.

“Liam, I can’t hold it much longer. Hurry,” Pamela whispered, the broken tones of her voice catching him off guard.

She wasn’t there; Rylee wasn’t there. No denying it, either she had made it out, or she’d been swept away from him. His heart twisted into a knot as he said, “Shut the door.”

“But you don’t have her.” Pamela limped to his side, and slid her small hand into his. “Liam? Is she dead?”

He reached across with his free hand and forced the door shut, the lock clicking into place. The door shuddered, and then began to fade.

“What’s happening?” Pamela reached out and put her hands on the door as it disappeared beneath her fingers.

He wasn’t sure, but he could guess. “A fail safe. A protection against things coming here and destroying the castle through the doorways.”

His mind was a complete and utter blank as he struggled to comprehend what the hell had just happened. Rylee was gone, Alex was gone, and he and Pamela had no way to find her.

Pamela threw her arms around his waist and let out a gulping sob. “She can’t be dead, she can’t be. She saved me, Liam, why couldn’t I save her?”

With a reluctance he couldn’t deny, he lowered his arms to carefully hug the sobbing witch. “We don’t know that she’s dead.”

She clung to him, her body shaking. “She’s the … only family … I have.”

It took everything he had to say the words that came out of his mouth. “You have me, too. And Eve. You aren’t alone, Pam.”

Her sobbing eased and she looked up at him. “You don’t hate me?”

Surprising himself, he shook his head. “No.”

She gave him a tentative smile, and the wolf in him seemed to shake his head with resignation, accepting that this witch, at least, was worth not killing. She was a part of this strange family, not on the outskirts as he had wanted to keep her.

A whiff of rose perfume snapped his head up and he shoved Pamela behind him. B
efore he took another breath he let his wolf rage to the top, his skin and bones shifting until he stood on all fours, his teeth bared to the witch who strode into the room. “This is all very touching, truly a sweet moment, but if you’re done with the Disney scene, I suggest we go get your mate.” Milly lifted an eyebrow, looking confident, but he could smell her and the uncertainty that spilled off her.

Pamela stepped up beside him and buried her hand in the fur along his back. “Why would we trust you? You killed people Rylee loved; you tried to kill Alex and Eve. You tried to kill me.” With each word she spoke she tightened her hand on his fur until it pulled. But he didn’t dare look back at her. Besides, Pamela wasn’t afraid. No, Milly was afraid, the sour scent of fear rolling off her.

Pamela, on the other hand, was pissed, her anger a sharp, spiky spice that the wolf in him heartily approved of.

He snarled and took a step toward Milly. She narrowed her eyes and held up a hand. “Don’t make me do it, O’Shea. I will spell you and you can be my pet again. This time permanently.”

Pamela flung her hands in the air, her arms quivering and her accent strong. “I’ll stop you. You can’t hurt him, not with me here.”

Liam angled his body so that he stood between them, but still faced Milly. Her green eyes flicked from him to Pamela and back again. “Quite the pair. But how do you expect to find Rylee? Hmm? You can’t Track like she can, you can’t scent her in all that water.”

Pamela didn’t lower her hands. “We’ll go get Jack. He can Track her.”

Milly snorted. “And if you go to Jack through the doorway, by then, Faris will have enthralled her and made her one of his creatures. I don’t think anyone here wants that, do we?”

Pamela stiffened, but Liam held still. He knew what Milly was doing, trying to weasel her way back into Rylee’s life. The shit part was Milly was right. If there was a time limit to how long they had, then there was very little choice as to whether or not they could take her help.

The green-eyed witch folded her hands over her more than ample bosom. “I can take Pamela with me, we can jump the veil and have Jack here in a matter of minutes. Your way will take far longer.”

Damn, why did she have to make logical, sound sense? There was no point in delaying the decision. Much as he might want to.

He made eye contact with Pamela and bobbed his head. Just once. She lowered her hands. “Are you sure? We could get Jack on our own.”

While they knew which doorway would take them back to Jack, they then would have to make the trek to his home, and hope the old Tracker was up for a journey back to the physical crossing point. He shook his head.

Pamela’s lips pressed together and she nodded. “I’ll go with you. But we go now, and come right back. No sneaky stuff or I’ll blast you and your brat.”

Milly’s eyelids fluttered, but she nodded and held out her hand. “Let’s go, then, little girl.”

Liam watched as Pamela took Milly’s hand, and they jumped the veil, disappearing in front of his eyes. Minutes passed, minutes where he began to doubt whether or not he’d made the right choice.

Ten minutes and he paced the small hallway, his claws clicking on the stone. Where the hell were they? Would Pamela be able to take Milly out if she had to?

Son of a bitch, what had he been thinking letting her go with Milly? A whine escaped him and he knew that Pamela wasn’t the only one worried about losing those who had become like family to them all. There was nowhere else that they all belonged.

Ten minutes faded into twenty and he stood in the hallway, his head hung low with shame, fear, and guilt crushing down on him. He should have pulled Rylee through the doorway too; they should have stepped across the veil together. And now he’d let Pamela go to—

The scuff of a footstep and the thump of a cane spun him around at the same time the smell of liniment and herbs caught his nose. Jack stepped toward him, Milly and Pamela and—ah shit, they’d brought Will.

Pamela had her arms full of clothes. “I thought you might want to shift back.”

He shifted as she spoke and she spun away, tossing the clothes behind her toward him.

Jack thumped his cane on the floor. “So, she got snatched by the bloody fang face, did she? Not surprised about that, not for one gods-be-damned minute. That’ll teach her for not listening to those who know better.”

Liam dressed fast, yanking the clothes on. “What took you so long?”

Pamela peeked back at him, saw he was dressed, and let out a breath. “Jack was being difficult; Will remembered Milly and attacked her, and then Will wanted to come, but Milly didn’t want him here. It was really all quite a mess.”

Milly’s eyes glittered with anger. “It seems that young Will has an advocate.”

Jack snapped his cane out and smacked Milly up the backside of her head. “Enough with this shit. Let’s find Rylee.”

Milly’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening as her hand went to the back of her head. “You nasty, filthy little—”

“Enough.” With one word, Liam silenced them. “Jack, can you Track her?”

He bobbed his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell them before they dragged me here.”

“Tell us what?” Will put his hands on his hips, eyes narrowing.

“Rylee ain’t that fucking far away. Whoever took her has her back home.” Jack leaned on his cane, and took a deep rattling breath.

Liam frowned, his brain slow to catch on. “They have her back in North Dakota?”

Jack shook his head and tapped his cane on the floor. “No, they have her somewhere in London.”

Faris yanked me, and Alex, with him as he jumped the veil, a gut-lurching twist that left Alex puking filthy grey water the minute we stood on solid ground. The werewolf’s sides heaved until I could see ribs, even through his thick fur. I stumbled, gasped for air, and spun to see that we were indeed out of the catacombs that had almost been our death.

We stood in a sumptuous room layered with carpets, draperies, and paintings. I didn’t know where he’d brought us, but I was betting that it was nowhere near North Dakota.