Of Blood and Passion (41 page)

The two worlds were merging, but in an even more macabre way than before.

As Arturo watched with horror, Cristoff’s guards waded into the pained throng, kicking and flinging the humans out of the way as they attacked the vampires and werewolves, most of whom were in so much pain they were unable to fight effectively. What exactly Cristoff had done to empower his mercenaries, Arturo didn’t know. He didn’t feel any different himself.

Quinn’s agony blasted him suddenly, her fear that it was all over, that they’d lost.

Tesoro.
It tore at him that he couldn’t go to her, but the only way to help her was to end this. And it was time to do just that.

“I want Sakamoto,” he growled. Anyone listening—anyone who didn’t know better—would think he was gunning for the vampire’s blood. But Fabian’s vamps did know better. One of them disappeared. Moments later, Sakamoto moved in to battle him.

“I can’t wait,” he told the male. “He’s never coming out.”

“And what will you do?” Sakamoto asked, his face a mask of agony even as he parried Arturo’s blows as if fighting to kill him.

Arturo didn’t respond and Sakamoto’s expression said he knew a secret when he saw one. “You’ll fail.”

“Probably.”

“Then wait,” the vamp master gasped, one arm tight around his middle.

“I already have.”

“Wait a little bit longer. Once he believes he’s won, he’ll come out of there.”

“You may all be dead by then. And this world will be locked in.”

The need to keep Cristoff from hurting Quinn burned through his blood. But he knew Sakamoto was right. Their only real chance of success lay in acting together…if Cristoff ever left the Focus to give them that chance. Sakamoto was one of the most powerful vampires in Vamp City for a reason. If they could get Cristoff out of the Focus, they had a plan. With his abilities to phase and to deaden another’s powers with a touch, Sakamoto would grab hold of Cristoff without the latter seeing him approach, and deaden his power long enough for Arturo to attack him with his mind blast.

They would get, at best, only one shot. And while there was an excellent chance one or both of them would die, the hope was that they’d be able to disable Cristoff long enough for Kassius or Micah to snatch Escalla and stab Cristoff.

The thought that they’d be killing his father barely registered anymore. The male causing so much destruction, so much agony, bore no resemblance whatsoever to the man Arturo had once been so faithful to. The Cristoff he knew was gone.

“He leaves,” Sakamoto said suddenly, then yelled out as if he’d taken a deadly blow. Arturo watched, bemused, as his opponent fell, and to all the world, disappeared.

Arturo turned to find that Cristoff had, indeed, walked out of the Focus.
Finally.
The power radiated from him, the bolts of green and gold fire leaping out of him in a wing-like arc, giving him the look of some kind of angel from Hell.

Cristoff wore an expression of such triumphant cruelty, of such madness, that it made Arturo sick to his stomach. Swallowing his revulsion, he strode forward to meet his master, then fell into step beside him as he’d always done as Cristoff’s most loyal.

“My world will soon be complete,” Cristoff told him with a grin. He slapped Arturo on the back. “Our world. A world of pain and terror. I shall have to work on feeding my pleasure feeders, for I suspect the only pleasure for some time will be ours.”

Arturo struggled to keep his expression devoid of the horror he was feeling. “Will the real D.C. continue to exist, my liege? I am fascinated by this world you create.”

Cristoff’s chest expanded. “Both worlds are mine now. Or will be once the transformation is complete. Those who did not flee, or die, during my creation attempts will be trapped within the ever-increasing boundaries of my worlds. The two will no longer be entirely distinct from one another, merging at odd times and in odd ways, eliciting constant disquiet, constant fear. And of course, constant pain to all but the vampires who pledge undying loyalty to me.” He looked at Arturo, madness glittering in his eyes. “Are you not pleased, my loyal one?”

“Most pleased.” Most revolted. “How long will it take to form this intriguing world?”

“As long as it takes. Minutes, perhaps. An hour? It is impossible to say and matters not at all. For it is done!”

Micah and Kassius strode forward to join their master in his moment of victory. Cristoff nodded as if having the three of them by his side at this moment was the most natural thing in the world.

Despite a lifetime of diplomatic acting, this was his most challenging role as he fought to hide his fury, his horror, at the slaughter going on all around them, the vicious murder of Quinn’s army. He felt her within him, her desperation for him to take down their foe a powerful force flowing through his body.

His muscles shook as he kept his hands fisted behind his back and waited for Sakamoto to make his move, praying the male did not lose his nerve at the last minute.

In the distance, a small cloud of humans tumbled out of the sky over the Potomac. With horror, he realized they’d undoubtedly been inside an airplane that had not accompanied them into this world.

“God’s wounds.”

Arturo jerked at the ancient expression uttered by the voice of the male he’d once revered as both master and father. He turned to find Cristoff staring at the battlefield, at what he’d wrought, with an expression of dismay.

Arturo’s heart gave a hard thump, his mind leaping, as he realized that, even now, the real Cristoff fought to break through. If only Arturo dared to try to enlist the aid of
this
male before the other returned. But it was a terrible risk, for he’d be giving himself away, and the monster could return at any moment.

Cristoff turned to Arturo, his eyes shattered. “
What have I done?
” But even as Arturo struggled to find words, Cristoff’s expression changed, hardening, his eyes once more glittering with cruelty and triumph. “Soon it will be over, my loyal one. Then I will reign supreme and you will stand at my side and all that you want will be yours.”

Arturo stared at him, then turned away, his body cold, his heart beating at twice its usual pace. He risked a glance at his friends and saw the sympathy in their gazes, the regret. But no doubt. They knew he would do everything he could to kill his own father, even knowing the male he’d once loved still existed somewhere behind the mask of the monster.
Because he had no choice.

And suddenly that moment was upon him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sakamoto appear behind Cristoff and a split second later, Cristoff roared. Then Sakamoto roared. And died just as Geert had.

Arturo seized the opportunity, leaped out of Cristoff’s reach, and slammed him with his own mind blast. At the same time, he threw up shields, desperate to hold Cristoff’s counterattack at bay, or he would die as quickly and devastatingly as Sakamoto and Geert had.

Cristoff roared for a second time, this time in agony as he clutched his head. Kassius and Micah acted, Kassius grabbing for Escalla as Micah attempted to slide a noose of silver around their master’s neck. But before either of them could succeed, they were soaring backward with a force that would have them landing at least a quarter of a mile away.

Cristoff rounded on Arturo, his hands clutching his head, his face a mask of disbelief. He’d yet to counterattack, yet he was holding up to Arturo’s deadly blast with disastrous ease, as if the master had become as indestructible as his guards.

His expression shifted to one of confusion as his eyes once more filled with the soul of the male Arturo had once worshiped. “You betray me.”

“You, never. I do not betray the master to whom I long ago pledged fealty, the master I loved. I betray only the monster who now wears his face.”

Fury flooded Cristoff’s countenance. And, a moment later, a blast hit Arturo’s mind shields, shattering them.

Chapter 49

Q
uinn leaped off her horse and ran, despite the pain burning through her gut. She’d seen Cristoff exit the Focus and knew the time had come for Arturo to attack his father…if he could bring himself to do it. And Cristoff would almost certainly counterattack with enough force to kill the man she loved.

All around her, the fighting continued, her allies in terrible pain, Cristoff’s mercenaries taking swift and deadly advantage.

“I need protection!” she yelled. Almost instantly, eight vampires surrounded her. And then half a dozen wolves. She was stealing them from other battles, and she was sorry for it, but she had to get closer to Arturo or everything was lost.

The helicopter she’d seen appear out of nowhere had begun a death spiral, the terrified pilot probably in too much pain to fly it any longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it careen downward. At the exact moment it hit the ground, a row of buildings appeared suddenly on top of it, and the resulting explosion burst out the windows.

Every minute, more people materialized out of nowhere, more cars and vehicles, more buildings. It was a world in chaos, a world of madness.

A Quinn ran, her protectors, all of them debilitated by pain, battled back Cristoff’s vamps, some succeeding, some dying. As vampires and wolves fell, others slid in to take their place, clearing a path for her. She struggled to concentrate on Arturo, to connect with him, but he was still too far away. With horror, she saw Sakamoto die. Then suddenly Cristoff roared and turned on Arturo. And then she felt it, the blast to Arturo’s mind that would kill him.

Her heart pounded, her breath tearing in and out of her lungs. Her own mind went white as she desperately fought to connect with him, to push power through him. Dimly, she began to feel him, but she was still too far away, so she continued to run, pushing through battle in the wake of her persona guard.

Slowly the connection with Arturo strengthened until, finally, she felt that door open in her mind, felt her connection to Arturo click into place.

Quinn stopped in her tracks, trusting the vamps and wolves to protect her, and closed her eyes. She imagined pushing her power through him, imagined throwing up a brick wall to keep Cristoff’s blast from reaching Arturo, but almost at once she felt the wall shatter. Cristoff was too strong!

She tried to help Arturo battle back the ungodly force of Cristoff’s counter blast, and while she felt Arturo’s own power strengthened, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She needed help.

Turning her thoughts to Octavia, she felt that connection once more stir, felt a powerful wave of energy flow into her through it, and without hesitation, flung every bit of it at Cristoff.

But even that wasn’t enough.

Arturo was going to lose.

I
n some part of his mind, a mind now awash in flame, Arturo knew he’d never stood a chance. Though he’d attacked his master with every ounce of strength he possessed, sending his mind blast at him hard and fast, Cristoff had counterattacked with a strength at least three times stronger. Arturo knew his head should have exploded by now. Yet somehow he managed to continue to fight.

Because of Quinn. Her power infused his own. Her strength was slowing Cristoff’s ability to pulverize his brain. Slowing, but not stopping. His head was on fire. His brain was turning to mud. Yet still he felt Quinn’s steely, protective energy pouring through him, trying to help. But there was no defeating Cristoff. His strength was just too great.

“
You
are my traitor?” Cristoff roared, his face contorting until he was barely recognizable to his own son.

Arturo felt the pressure building in his skull, in his eyes. His eyesight was beginning to fail again.

“After all these years, you still don’t know who I am.” Arturo had nothing left to lose by telling the truth. “I was…your first born. My mother, Valentina, named me…Little Cristoff.”

He felt rather than saw Cristoff’s jaw drop. The counterblast fell away. For a second, Arturo was too surprised to take advantage. Then he slammed his shields into place, praying that Quinn could help him keep them up this time, and he hit Cristoff with his own mind blast, using every ounce of power he still possessed.

Cristoff stumbled back, falling to one knee. For one bright, terrible moment, Arturo thought he might actually have a chance of destroying his father. But through the darkness stalking his sight, he saw Cristoff rise, fury on his face as he reached for him with his hand.

Arturo pulled his sword and drove his master back, knowing that if Cristoff touched him, it was over. If Cristoff’s counterattack was this powerful, his frontal attack would kill him instantly.

Cristoff pulled Escalla and Arturo fought him with sword and mind power, Quinn’s energy weaving through his, helping him. He fought bitterly even as his brain felt as if it were being squeezed in an iron fist. Blood began to run from his ears and nose. His sight faded. And though Quinn attempted to help, her power was no longer strong enough.

He was going to die. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.

T
he world had gone to Hell.

As Quinn fought to help Arturo, fought to push away the brutal force of Cristoff’s mind blast, death and horror swirled all around her. Though she tried to keep her eyes closed in order to concentrate, it was impossible when she suddenly heard vehicles tearing in from the other world, crashing into one another, into vampires and wolves. And when those who protected her kept being struck down, kept dying. She was covered in blood, covered in vampire splatter, but it was her heart that bled.