Cloud City (Anna Strong Vampire Chronicles) (8 page)

BOOK: Cloud City (Anna Strong Vampire Chronicles)
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I close my eyes, too. I’m letting this happen. How guilty am I going to feel if something goes wrong?

I imagine pretty fucking guilty.

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Leticia reads the Latin script expertly and without hesitation. It’s a long passage, full of pauses during which she waves the bundle of herbs in ways that resemble the sign of the cross. Did Sophie take her rite from a Catholic exorcism textbook?

Nothing is happening. The words provoke no immediate reaction in the two on the floor. I guess I was expecting the dramatic three-sixty head spinning and projectile vomiting pictured in movies when an exorcism is performed. Or at least an impressive string of cursing. Sophie and Prendergast lie still and seemingly unaffected. Even Prendergast shoulders start to relax and his breathing is so regular, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Will Jonathan’s spirit slip effortlessly from Sophie into his body?

But I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Leticia is caught up in the words, the magic. Her face takes on an excited flush, her voice rises and falls. Soon the crystals begin to glow. I take an involuntary step back, remembering the flash fire of before. There’s no mist this time, no colorful liquid vapor you can touch and send gently rippling with a touch of your hand. This time the crystals send off scorching heat and light as bright as a laser, turning night into day in the confines of the bar.

Prendergast groans. My eyes snap to him. He’s writhing on the floor, his face contorted.

I thought Sophie said there’d be no pain?

Sophie is still quiet, not moving. She has a smile on her face and she clutches Prendergast’s hand like a lifeline.

Leticia continues to read. Pause. Wave the bundle of herbs. Her face reflects excitement, anticipation. She glances now and then at the two in front of her, as if gauging something.

Then it happens. Sophie’s back arches, she cries out. A specter, a cloud of grey, rises from her body. At the same time, the crystals flare and go out. The specter pauses, suspended in mid-air, as if aware but unsure what path to take.

“Now, Anna, the holy water.” Leticia’s hushed voice rouses me. “Quickly. Sophie.”

I uncap the vial and sprinkle the water over Sophie’s writhing body. As if the act is a cue, the specter moves away from her and into Prendergast. He bucks once. Then, as the cloud is absorbed into his body, he grows still.

The candles flicker, too, and go out, plunging the room into darkness.

It’s so quiet.

I can’t take my eyes off the two on the floor. They lie as if asleep. Leticia hasn’t said a word either and I feel her tremble. She’s as eager with anticipation as I am. I fight the urge to reach out, shake Sophie’s shoulders, ask the hundred questions spinning in my head like bits of driftwood in a whirlpool.

As the minutes tick by and there’s no movement, no sign of consciousness returning to Sophie and Prendergast, I’m overcome with dread.

They are asleep aren’t they?

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

I feel Leticia’s anxiety growing with mine.

“What have I done?” she whispers.

I move to stand beside her. “You did what Sophie asked.”

“But what if I’ve killed Jonathan?” Her voice becomes hard, concern replaced with anger. “She didn’t ask Jonathan what he wanted. I should have made her bring him back. Let him choose.”

I remember Sophie in the office when she came to ask me to accompany her to Leadville. “Sophie would have gotten rid of Jonathan one way or the other. She was that desperate.”

Leticia turns puzzled eyes on me. “I don’t even know how they came to co-exist. How could such a thing happen?”

I give her a condensed version: who Sophie was, how she came to have access to Jonathan’s ashes when he was immolated, what she tried to do with them that produced the unorthodox results.

Rather than feel sympathy for Sophie after hearing the story, Leticia snarls. “She should have been happy. He gave her youth, wealth, a life without bounds. Stupid witch. If she survives and he doesn’t I’ll make her pay for her ingratitude.”

I blow out a breath. I can tell from what she’s feeling, there would be no use arguing the point. And I have a question of my own.

“You and Jonathan obviously loved each other very much. Why did you part?”

For the first time, a deep well of regret opens in Leticia’s thoughts, allowing me to glimpse the depth of her remorse. “I talk of Sophie being stupid. I was no less so. I wanted to move on, to California where new adventure beckoned. Jonathan liked our life in Leadville. And he knew part of the reason I wanted to go to California was because Anthony, my sire, invited me there. He sent letters full of stories of the beauty of the state, of the ocean. Jonathan felt I might still have unresolved feelings for Anthony. And he was right. I did. But Anthony had moved on. He found he liked ‘recruiting’ new vampires into his fold and I would have been just one more in his harem.”

“Why didn’t you return to Jonathan?”

“Why do you think? Pride. Embarrassment. Time moves slowly for vampires and it makes forming attachments difficult. I soon found temporary relationships, be it with mortals or vampires, work best. At least I did until I heard Jonathan’s voice.”

She looks at me. “You have not been vampire long, have you? I know you have extraordinary abilities but you also still have a mortal family. I have heard the stories. I can feel your uncertainty about what lies ahead for you. I can only give you one piece of advice. If you are lucky enough to find a soul mate, whether the relationship lasts a mortal lifetime or an eternity, you may be given only one chance at real fulfillment. Don’t let it slip away.”

We have been talking quietly, heads close together, caught up in emotions transmitted both in words and thoughts.

I find myself envying her and being fearful for her at the same time. If Jonathan is truly gone, it was a cruel act of fate, and Sophie, to remind her again of what she lost.

She can do nothing about fate, but Sophie is another matter.

A sound snaps our attention to the circle. Sophie is sitting up, confusion drawing her face into a scowl. She looks around, eyes cloudy with the effort of trying to remember, questions reflected in her expression. She doesn’t know where she is.

Leticia takes a step forward. I stop her. “Wait. Let her come back.”

I shield my thoughts and try to reach Jonathan, first in Sophie, then in Prendergast, still unconscious.

I get nothing.

From either of them.

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Sophie comes around slowly. She presses both hands against her face. I can’t tell if she’s taking mental inventory or is just weary from the exorcism. I try again to reach out to Jonathan. Leticia is doing the same. We both ask the same question:

Where are you?

We both get the same answer: nothing.

Leticia isn’t willing to wait any longer. She kneels down between Sophie and Prendergast. She turns Sophie’s face upward with a hand to her chin.

“Did it work?”

Sophie looks at her with no expression.

Leticia’s anger snaps. She slaps Sophie with the palm of her hand. “Come out of it, damn you. Did it work?”

Sophie’s head jerks, her hand flies to her cheek. Anger flushes confusion from her eyes. “What did you do that for?”

At least she’s speaking. Color rushes into her face. She struggles to stand up but Leticia stops her. Sophie pushes her hand away. “Let me up.”

Leticia rises with her. For a moment, they stare at each other. Sophie touches her chest. Tilts her head as if listening. Then a slow smile blossoms on Sophie’s lips.

“He’s gone,” she says. Her face shines with the wonder of it. “He’s really gone.”

Leticia doesn’t take the same pleasure in Sophie’s declaration. She takes step closer, teeth bared in warning. “Where is he, witch?”

Sophie looks down at Prendergast. “Did you see his spirit when it left my body?”

I figure it’s time I inserted myself in the conversation. Leticia’s growing fury is reaching critical mass. “We did,” I say, stepping between them. Maybe not the best place to be if Leticia explodes, but I can handle her better than Sophie.

I point to Prendergast. “It seemed to rise like a cloud and settle into him. But he hasn’t moved since and we can’t reach Jonathan telepathically.”

Sophie bends over Prendergast, feels for a pulse. “He’s alive.”

“I don’t give a fuck if
he’s
alive,” Leticia roars. “Where’s Jonathan?”

Sophie turns to me. “Help me get him to the bar.”

I move around Leticia feeling the heat of her anger rolling off her body in waves. She’d tear Sophie apart if I wasn’t here.

I hoist Prendergast over my shoulder and deposit him on a chair. Sophie gets a glass of water and tips it into his mouth.

Prendergast swallows reflexively, chokes. His head rolls on his shoulders. He moans and finally, finally, opens his eyes.

His expression is as blank as Sophie’s when she first regained consciousness.

Until he sees Leticia.

Quicker than is humanly possible, he is at her side. He grabs her, crushes her to his chest, one hand at the nape of her neck the other on her ass.

I glance over at Sophie. “I think we’ve found Jonathan.”

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Leticia’s hand snakes between their bodies. “I’d say you were happy to see me.”

I clear my throat. “Can you restrain yourself until you’re alone?” I wait for them to part—reluctantly—and look into Prendergast’s eyes. “Jonathan?”

He nods. “In the flesh evidently.”

“Is Prendergast in there with you?”

A pause as if Jonathan is taking inventory. “I think he’s gone. I felt something when I first entered his body. A sharp pain in my—his—chest. For a minute I thought we had both died.”

“He had a heart condition,” Sophie says, joining us from the shadow of the bar. “If we’d waited a minute longer, you both would have died.”

I steel myself for Jonathan’s reaction when he sees Sophie. Would he be angry that she risked his life to be rid of him?

Leticia is rubbing the back of his neck, nibbling his ear. He’s projecting nothing but contentment, purring inside like a kitten getting a chin rub.

After a moment, he rouses himself long enough to face Sophie. “I knew you were unhappy. You took a risk bringing Leticia into it, though. You would be dead if hadn’t worked.”

“You may still be dead,” Leticia growls, “if the spell turns out to be temporary. I need to know—what is Jonathan? Human or vampire?”

Sophie shakes her head. “I don’t know. But does it matter? If he’s human, you can change that.”

Leticia raises her eyebrows. “Hadn’t thought of that. You’re right. We’ll test it tonight.”

Jonathan looks around the bar. “Are there any mirrors? If I am human, I’d like to get a look at myself.”

Sophie spies one behind a booth. “There.”

He walks over, Leticia by his side. There’s a fuzzy image, fading even as he looks. I get a flashback to my first realization that I was a vampire. A mirror image vanishing as I watched just as his does now.

A stab of emotion washes over me—recollection of what I felt then—a sense of loss, uncertainty, fear.

That was eighteen months ago.

I’ve reconciled to what I am. Jonathan won’t have to go through that same period of adjustment. He’d been a vampire a long time before his assimilation into Sophie.

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, glances down at his hand with a frown. “Well. I guess I have my work cut out for me. This guy was flabby and what’s with this hair?” He sweeps Leticia into his arms. “Can you live with this face?”

“We’ve got other things to discuss,” I remind him before he and Leticia start another round of petting. “Prendergast had a job. Do you intend to take over his life as well as his identity?”

He shrugs. “I suppose it depends on how much fun I can have. And how much money he makes. I am used to a certain lifestyle.”

Leticia clucks her tongue. “Money is no object, my love. I have plenty for both of us.”

“And there is Jonathan’s estate,” Sophie adds quietly. “I am willing to relinquish any claim. I still have my house in Denver.”

Jonathan waves his hand. “All things we can discuss later. Tomorrow.” His voice is husky. “Right now, I have more urgent matters on my mind.” He leans over and whispers in Leticia’s ear.

She pulls back, grinning. “You haven’t had sex in how long? What are we doing standing here?”

Jonathan looks at Sophie. “Prendergast was in room 302, right?”

She nods. “The key is probably in his pocket.”

Jonathan and Leticia barely take the time to wave on their way out.

Great. If I could hear Prendergast pecking at his computer and talking on the phone, what will it be like when those two start going at it?

I stay behind with Sophie to help her clear away the debris from her spell making and scrub the pentagram from the floor. We don’t speak. I imagine it’s a relief for Sophie to be alone with her own thoughts so I don’t intrude with small talk.

We part at the hotel lobby and I go reluctantly up to my room. It’s been a couple of hours, but the bed springs are still singing next door and the mingled moans of Jonathan and Leticia keep me awake long past dawn. The windows are open and once in awhile a whiff of sex and blood drifts in, making my own hormones jump into overdrive.

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