Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10) (26 page)

“Extra! Extra! Special evening edition!” shouted a newspaper boy as Chas walked past. “Read an update on the schoolgirl hostage situation!”

That piqued his interest, and his concern, and Chas easily parted with the nickel being charged for what turned out to be nothing more than a one-page flyer.

The headline, which took up the entire paper above the fold, declared:
Schoolgirls Safe!

Chas stopped on the street to read it, and the sub-headline said:
Beedle hostage crisis resolved with zero fatalities! Perpetrators dead or in custody!

Next to it was a photograph of a cluster of police officers—and in the midst of it was Max Denton.

Chas swore and took off at a run the rest of the way to The Silver Chalice, the bottles of brandy clinking noisily against him. Hopefully Temple was at the pub, and would have more information.

He hurried past the Chalice finial and down the steps that took him below the sidewalk, slowing only when he noticed the pub door was ajar.

The back of his neck prickled…but in a wary sort of way, rather than a portent of the undead.

He pushed open the door. The satchel slipped from his fingers and four bottles of exquisite Armagnac brandy shattered.

NINETEEN

~ Wherein our Heroine’s Life Spirals Out of Her Control ~

“I’m ready to get out of this
place,” Macey said, breaking the awkward silence that had descended over her hospital room.

It had been interrupted by a brief visit from a nurse, who checked her vital signs and changed her bandages. She’d clucked in surprise over the speed at which the wounds were healing (“Are you certain it was only a few hours ago you had surgery? It’s quite miraculous!”).

But the moment the nurse closed the door behind her, the tension settled back over the small, windowless room.

Max had taken a seat in the chair next to her bed, and though he didn’t seem inclined to leave, he also appeared as uncomfortable as a cat in a bathtub. He also didn’t seem to have much to say. “If the doctor says it’s all right, then I don’t see why you couldn’t—”

“You heard what the nurse said. She can’t believe how fast I’m healing.” Macey pushed herself up. “See? I can even move my arm now. My shoulder hardly hurts at all.”

Not that Max had any say over what she did or didn’t do, Macey reminded herself. He might be her father, but she made her own decisions.

“I’ll need new clothes,” she suddenly realized. She couldn’t walk out of the hospital in the flimsy, gapping gown, and her other clothes had been destroyed. “Damn.”

Before Max could respond, the door to the hospital room swung open.

“Chas,” Macey said—more warmly than the moment warranted, but it was nice to see a new face. “Did you get the— What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t until he came fully into the room that she saw his shocked, sober expression.

“I just came from the pub. It’s Temple. She’s dead.”

“What?” Max was on his feet, and Macey bolted upright from her pillows, with a cry of shock and grief. “What happened?”

Chas appeared stunned. Macey took him by the arm and pulled him down to sit on the edge of her bed as she waited for him to tell them what he knew.

“I returned from my trip. Yes, I retrieved the item in question and brought it with me,” he said, glancing around as if to ensure no one could hear.

“When I got back to The Silver Chalice, I noticed the door was ajar. I went inside and—” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was carnage. The likes of which…” He shook his head, looking decidedly green around the gills. “It was Temple—and there was also a man. I didn’t recognize him. They were both dead. Shot…and…she was torn to ribbons. It was a
lot
of blood. They looked as if they’d been there for some time. Hours, perhaps.” He drew in a deep breath. “And to top it off, Rekk’s Pyramid is gone.”

“Gone?” Macey whispered.

“The secret door to the safe was wide open. Broken glasses and bottles everywhere.”

“Temple was taking the pyramid to the sacristy of the church,” Max interrupted. “Perhaps she’d done so, and whoever came in looking for it got angry when they realized it was gone—”

Chas shook his head. “No. That was my first thought—hope. I went to the church and checked. It’s not there.”

Max swore violently under his breath. His fingers curled into fists. “Who even knew it was at the pub? Iscariot and his minions, of course, but they were a little busy with us—”

“Flora,” Macey said in a horrified, gritty voice.

They looked at her, comprehension dawning in their faces.

“She wasn’t there, at the school today. I didn’t see her anywhere. Let’s go,” she said, and flung back the bed coverings, heedless of the amount of leg and thigh she revealed. “Give me your coat,” she told Max. “I can’t walk out of here wearing this.”

She froze. “Chas. What about Aunt Cookie?”

He still looked grim. “She’s safe. I took her with me to the church, and then I put her in a taxi to the train station. I gave her money to go back to New Orleans, even though she argued about not having time to pack. I told her to buy new clothes when she got down there.”

Macey drew in a deep breath. There was no reason for anyone to be after Cookie—Flora had never even met the woman.

Moments later, they were on their way out, rushing down the corridor, when Max said, “I’ll meet you at the pub. I have to do something first.” And he veered off into a different ward of the hospital.

“Is Temple really dead?” Macey asked, gripping Chas’s arm. Tears stung her eyes. How?

He just shook his head, his mouth grim.

+ + +

By the time they arrived at The Silver Chalice, it was nearly nine o’clock in the evening.

“Watch out when you go inside—there are four broken bottles of brandy in the doorway. And…I didn’t call the police,” Chas said, unlocking the door. “Not yet. I wanted you and Max to see…”

Macey stepped inside and was assaulted by the strong, pungent smell of blood and death mingling with the scent of brandy. Chas had covered the two bodies with sheets, probably dragged from the apartments in back.

Tears stung Macey’s eyes, and cold horror filled her as she knelt next to the smaller body, its sheet completely stained with blood. She pulled it back to view Temple’s brutalized body. It hadn’t been a simple death: she’d been shot in the chest, but then her flesh was scored in numerous places, her abdomen torn open as if sliced by four matching knives. Even her face bore many sets of deep scratches from long, lethal vampire nails.

There didn’t appear to be signs of bites, or of feeding. It was as if the assailant simply wanted to maim and kill—and in the most violent way possible.

“Macey.” Chas’s low, rough voice called her to the other side of the room.

She rose, but before leaving Temple’s side, she covered her up once more and said a brief prayer for her friend and mentor. Her insides twisting like a rope, she made her way over to Chas.

“Oh, God, no.” Macey gave a choked cry when she recognized the man lying there in a thick, congealed pool of blood. “Oh, no…Dr. Sevin. Joseph Sevin. He was… He and Temple…
No
…” Her last word came out in little more than a whisper.

She swiped viciously at the tears welling from her eyes. They’d been so happy together, Temple and her dapper, handsome “family friend.” Macey had never seen her trainer seem so gay and bright-eyed over the last few days.

“They showed a little more mercy to him,” Chas said grimly. “Looks like they just cut his throat after they shot him. Instead of…”

“Temple must have fought back; maybe she tried to protect him. Maybe they used him to get her to tell them where the pyramid was…or maybe it wasn’t that simple.” Macey felt a sudden, ugly chill down her spine.

If she was right, and Flora had been here… Well, Flora had never liked Temple. She’d been jealous of her friendship with Macey.

The mutilation, especially of her lovely face, seemed to be a personal attack. Macey stepped back, staring blankly around the room.

Could Flora really be capable of such violence? The mischievous carrot-top who’d been so tall and gangly, so fun and goofy…?

Of course she could. She was a vampire now. An undead. A soulless, damned demon.

Macey shook her head, feeling even more ill.
What have I wrought?

It was because of her decision to join the Venators, to take on this vocation, that she and Flora had grown apart. It was because she’d had a good job at the Harper Library at the university that Macey urged Flora to find something just as exciting and well paid—and made her feel so inadequate that she eventually found a job at the vampire cabaret called The Blood Club.

It was because of Macey that Flora felt lost and alone, and had been so easily seduced by the undead Count Alvisi into becoming an immortal herself…all in the name of competing with, or being as good as, her friend.

“I…” Macey could hardly breathe. Her insides were in knots, her palms clammy, her head suddenly light.

“What is it?” Chas pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace, as if to protect her from the thoughts and horror that surrounded her.

“She hated Temple,” Macey mumbled into his shirt. “Because of me.”

The exterior door opened and Max walked in, then halted at the sight of the sheet-covered bodies. “God have mercy,” he said, after bending to look beneath Temple’s sheet.

“Hell hath no fury,” Macey said, lifting her head from Chas’s chest.

“You believe your friend Flora did this?”

Macey nodded.

Max gave a bitter curse and shook his head. Carefully replacing the sheet, he stood and surveyed the room, hands on his hips. And swore again.

Then, as if remembering something, he glanced behind and gestured at the door. “I’ve got a bloke here to join our team, such as it is. I’ve known him for years, and he has a set of particular skills that could come in handy.”

Macey automatically stepped away from Chas, curious about whom her father would have brought on to help. As if Max Denton would need help…would he? Was it another Venator? Someone from Rome, perhaps?

When a familiar figure stepped through the doorway, Macey’s mind went utterly blank and all feeling drained from her face.

“Meet my old mate from London, Jameson Grady—goes by Grady,” Max said. “Don’t say James or Jimmy or even Jameson.”

“Unless you’re ordering the whiskey,” said Grady with a crooked grin. His eyes swept over Macey and Chas as he gave each of them a nod of acknowledgment. “Hello.”

Macey was lightheaded, and a hundred questions exploded in her mind. Her father knew Grady? Grady knew her father? How long had they known each other? What was he
doing
here? How could this be happening?

And how could he even be on his feet after the condition he’d been in at the school? He did look pale and drawn, and he was, she noticed, holding himself awkwardly—as if trying to ignore pain. He leaned lightly against the wall.

“…my daughter, Macey,” Max was saying.

“Oh, I’ve met Macey,” Grady replied, and her heart stopped, lodging in her throat.

She opened her mouth to speak—though she didn’t know what to say, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought she might pass out. What in the world was going on? She felt as if she’d been on a carousel for hours, and just stepped off it to find the world still spinning out of control.

But then Grady continued, “We met at the photography exhibit Saturday night.” His smile was charming and yet impersonal—exactly how it should be, meeting his friend’s daughter.

The mention of the photography exhibit also reminded Macey of Miss Sabrina Ellison, and her insides twisted and coiled even more tightly. Just what she needed. Grady around
and
the knowledge that he’d already found someone to replace her.

“I’m not sure we need to bring anyone else into this mess, Denton,” Chas said, moving closer to Macey. He was the only other person in the room who realized the awkwardness of the situation, and she was grateful for his presence. “Especially a civilian. Who is, from the looks of it, hardly able to stand from his own injuries.”

Max’s smile turned cool and hard. Clearly, the
summas
would brook no disagreement. “Right. You weren’t here when everything happened, were you, Woodmore? As it happens, it was Grady who was instrumental in helping the girls to escape today. And through his entire encounter with Iscariot,” Max continued, speaking very deliberately, “he remained
undaunted
, and succeeded in saving many lives.”

Macey caught her breath and her attention snapped to Max’s gaze.
No.
Surely not. But her father gave a barely perceptible nod. Chas tensed with the same shock and disbelief, but Macey hardly noticed…for it felt as if the floor was disintegrating at her feet.

Everything was falling away. Everything she knew and believed and trusted…was…confused.

How could it be? Grady wasn’t even a Venator…was he? No, of course he wasn’t—she’d seen him…
everywhere
…and no
vis bulla
in sight.

“May I speak with you for a moment,
Father
?” she said flatly.

Max lifted a sardonic brow—whether it was due to her using the word “father” for the first time, albeit in a sarcastic manner, or the fact that she was daring to question the
summas
, she didn’t know. And she didn’t bloody care.

Nevertheless, he did acquiesce—a measure of the respect he must have for her.

“Are you loony?” she said the moment they stepped into the back hall of the pub. “Bringing a civilian into something like this? Even if he is the dauntless one, we don’t need his help anymore. Iscariot’s dead.”

“I’ve known the man for years,” Max replied. “He’s damned good—”

“And so are you, and so am I, and so is Chas! We don’t need him. Did you see what Flora did to Temple?” Tears stung her eyes. It was madness. All of this was madness. “A man like him isn’t equipped—”

“He went into the school today on his own and came out alive—thanks to his own doing.” Max held up an imperious hand. “It’s better to know what he’s doing than chance that he might take matters into his own hands. Aside from that, he’s quite skilled in a number of—”