Shadowed Threads (18 page)

Late in the day, I knew that they, the guards, pets, whatever the hell they were, would be coming for me soon. Bringing me out for an audience with the Child Empress. My last stand.

When the footsteps echoed to me down the hallway, I went to the door. I tucked the short sword into one of my sheaths and shoved it so that the handle was hidden by my jacket.

The door was flung open and I stepped back, letting them take me. At least this way I would be right in the presence of the Child Empress. This way I had a chance to kill her.

I looked over my shoulder. “I can’t be the one the prophecies speak of, Jack. I know I can’t be.”

He lifted his eyes to mine. “You don’t know that.”

But I did know that. Because I knew there was no way to fill any prophecies when I was dead.

Chapter 21

W
hat his mate
was thinking, he had no idea. But now he had to find a way to get her, the witch child, and himself out of this nest of blood and death. His nose was filled with it, the scent of rotting death, new death, blood and pain. The smells made his nose twitch and his skin crawl. The witch child clung to him, fear rolling off her in waves. He didn’t like the fact that she had a hand on him, but he allowed it. She was a part of their pack, after all.

“Shouldn’t we go back for Rylee?” The child whispered, her voice right in his ear. He couldn’t answer her, so he just shook his head. His mate would find a way out; they just had to meet her wherever it was she ended up. They wandered for hours, avoiding those that looked for them, hiding where they had to, never fighting.

He took a deep breath and caught the smell of food, fresh cooking meat. Moving in that direction, he took deep breaths, drawing in the scents all around him, searching for anymore of the blood drinkers. His lips curled back as he walked, just thinking about them. The one that had bitten his mate was bad, but these ones, they were worse. They were mad, a sickness infecting their minds … and they weren’t even true blood drinkers, they were like shadows that darted around trying to be something they weren’t.

“Do you smell that?”

He just trotted along, towing her with him toward the food. They rounded a corner and a large cooking area opened up. She ran forward and grabbed a pot off the stove, shoveling food into her mouth, then grabbing another pot and putting it on the floor for him. They ate in silence, but at the sounds of footsteps in the hallway, he nudged her away. They hid behind a large table, working their way around until they could peer around it without being seen.

The footsteps drew close and the blood drinker’s shadows came in line with the doorway. There was a glimpse of auburn hair, but more than that, the scent of his mate. The scent of where he belonged.

Creeping forward, he moved to the door, watching them take her away from him again.

With a low growl, he flicked his head from the witch child to his mate.

“We’ll get her back, O’Shea,” she said, her eyes fierce with a fire that surprised him after he’d felt her fear for so long. “I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

He gave a soft woof. Perhaps the witch child was a better fit than he’d first thought.

Stepping into the hallway, they turned and once more followed where his mate led.

My handlers walked me to the intersection and took a left, trotted me down a set of stairs, and then took another hallway to the left. I was very well-behaved, said nothing, and didn’t try to get away. I kept track of where they were taking me, memorizing the turns so I could make my way back to Jack.

Assuming I was in one piece after this audience and could make my way back.

The hallway dipped down on a slope, running water trickling along in a miniature river on each side of it. Wall sconces were lit with pitch-covered torches, the droplets of fire and pitch hissing as they fell into the water.

We passed a kitchen and, out the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of golden eyes and black fur. Something in me eased, knowing that they hadn’t caught O’Shea. And if they hadn’t caught him, they hadn’t caught Pamela.

Better and better.

My handlers didn’t speak, and I didn’t try to engage them. Wasn’t sure I wanted to. What would I say? Had any good blood lately? So what’s it like being a slave to a psycho?

No, none of that would help me, and for once I managed to keep my damn mouth shut.

We dipped lower and lower, and more water trickled along the side of the hallway. Fuck, what would happen if Pamela pulled a power stunt like she’d shown Blaz? She could sink this entire place.

A chill swept along my spine. Yeah, that would be a last ditch effort, used only if we had to.

One more corner and the hallway opened up into a gilded ballroom I’d seen before, in Faris’ memory, the first one he’d shown me.

They let me go and shoved me forward. Around the room stood an array of vampires, some I recognized from Faris’ memory, though their clothes were far more modern—not so much lace this time around. I dusted off the front of my jacket.

“So, where’s the snot-nosed brat that runs this shit hole?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Or is it past her bedtime?”

The general reaction was not one of outrage, but of fear. They pulled back, as if by stepping away from me they wouldn’t get caught in any backlash.

I laughed. “Oh please, are you fucking serious? You’re scared of a kid?”

A stately vampire, the Old One I’d seen in Faris’ memory, the seer of the vampires, stepped forward, dressed in the same thing as before. A long grey silk dress that brushed the floor, her bright white hair braided back from her face. Hazel eyes sharpened as she moved toward me.

“You mock what you know not.”

“I mock everything, Yoda. Get used to it.”

Her brows snapped low over her eyes, and I glared back. My guts were clenched into a knot the size of both my fists, sweat trickled down my back and chest, though it was cool in these lower levels. My heart was leaping about inside my chest. Terrified? Yeah, I fucking well was, because for the first time I couldn’t see a way out of a situation. Not even with O’Shea and Pamela at my back.

The Old One stared at me, a slow smile ghosting over her lips. “Whoever binds the Tracker to them will be able to seek out the last of the Blood. Those are my words, this is my vision, this is what those who wish to rule must accomplish. Of course, you would have to be the Tracker who holds the Blood of the Lost.”

“Really, did you have to fucking well remind them?” I growled, feeling the room tense around us.

Her grin widened. “Yes, I did. Because I am not sure you can be bound to anyone, Tracker, Immune.”

“Good point.” I had to fight to keep from stepping away from her. Every instinct I had screamed at me to fight, run, do something. “Anything else you’d like to add?”

“You are afraid.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Well done, Lady Obvious. You want a fucking medal?”

She banged her cane on the floor, reminding me of Jack. “You, you will either destroy us or save us. Not this Child Empress, the one who has stepped forward, the one they” —she made a sweeping gesture with her cane— “fear.”

“You would have Faris lead you?”

She gave the slightest incline of her head. “He is not of the pure blood, but that is better. He is rash, but he is young yet. This Child Empress is barely fanged. An infant unable to control herself or the memories her parents foisted on her.”

A murmur rolled around the room and a chime sounded.

“The Child comes.” The Old One pointed at the dais that rose up out of the floor, a petite figure on the chair, covered in a gold, gauzy material.

I just couldn’t stop myself. “What the fuck, no one told me it was a costume contest.”

Again, the gasping murmur went around the room. But I wasn’t sure if it was because I was being a foul-mouthed jerk or because additional company had just arrived.

Faris stepped into the room from a doorway across from me. Dressed in black from head to toe, his blond hair was slicked back and his blue eyes were icy with a rage that even I could see this far away from him. Damn, I had to give him props for his timing. His entrance was perfect and his outfit was the complete opposite of the Child Empress’. His eyes flicked over me and he gave me the barest of nods.

Shit, maybe I would be getting out of this fucking mess. Maybe.

The Child Empress stood up, lifting her hands so the gold gauze floated around her. Faris strode forward and no one stopped him, which surprised the hell out of me.

“I have bound the Tracker to me. I will find the Blood; your time on the throne is coming to an end.”

The Child Empress didn’t answer, except to flick her hand at Faris. A rush of power I could feel, even though it didn’t affect me, coursed over the room, crashing into the vampires, throwing even Faris to his knees. So this was why they were afraid. I was the only one left standing, the magic dividing around me like a stone in a river.

Sweet.

I smiled at the Child Empress. “You killed my sister, you little bitch. Know what that means?”

The power rush continued, pinning the vampires hard to the floor. I glanced at Faris who was staring at me, his words echoing to me. “Do not forget your oath.”

The bite mark where he’d drawn my blood lit up, the nerves around it dancing a tango. He’d invoked the bite, giving me the speed I’d need to battle this vampire who’d killed Berget, the vampire who would destroy the supernatural world for her own whims. Faris, for all his faults—and fuck he had a lot of them—was right about this.

We couldn’t let the Child Empress win.

I ran toward the dais. Three strides and I was there, glaring up at the gold-cloaked vampire, knowing that I had to do it quick. I jerked the short sword from the sheath, the blade catching the light. The Child Empress screamed, high-pitched and full of fear. Her power flowed over me, around me, but it couldn’t save her.

“Do not remove her covering!” Faris shouted, his voice pitched with pain. Shit, this little fucker was really doing a number on her own people.

But what did her covering have to do with anything? Would it be like Medusa and her snakes, one look and I’d freeze into stone?

The Child Empress scooted away from me, but I followed easily, booting her in the gut and sending her sprawling over the dais and away from me. Tangled in her stupid gauzy material, she had to rip at it to get away from me. Still, her power strangled her own people, which made no sense. They would help her, wouldn’t they?

I turned to look over my shoulder, saw the vampires waiting. But they weren’t being held down anymore.

They waited for me to kill the Child Empress.

I was a fucking tool to them. Jaw clenching, I booted the Child again, flipped her over, the gauzy gold material finally tearing free and giving me my first glimpse at her.

Golden blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a face that
couldn’t be
stared up at me. Tears streaked her cheeks, and she held a hand out to me in supplication.

“Rylee, please don’t kill me.” Her voice was older, no longer child-like, but it was hers. The same face I’d seen as I’d walked between death and life. Berget was a vampire; that was what I’d felt when she’d died. Not a true death, but one where she was called back as a blood sucker.

That was what she meant when she’d told me death wasn’t the end … .

My heart, mind and soul screamed that this couldn’t be, it wasn’t happening. I stumbled backward, tripped over the dais, and ended up sprawled on the floor in front of Faris.

He’d known all along. He’d told me not to remove the gauze. He’d bitten me so I would have the speed to kill her. He’d been the one to steal her in the first place.

Rage stole my incredulity. I lunged upward with Jack’s sword, the tip catching him along the side of his head, slicing through the skin on his skull.

“You do not understand, Rylee.” He held his hands out to me, as if I would give shit about his excuses.

“You mother fucking bastard!” I didn’t think, just swung, using the speed he’d given me with his bite against him. For the first time, Faris wasn’t faster than me, and I pummeled him with my fists, my sword slicing into him again and again, though he tried to avoid me. On an equal footing, I was the better fighter, better trained. He was going to die.

I drove the sword into his belly and his hands circled mine. His fingers gripped my wrists, twisting them backward, the crunch of my bones resonating all the way up my arms to my shoulders. I screamed and an answering roar scattered the vampires.

O’Shea loped into the room, Pamela beside him, her eyes as fierce as his.

I had no choice but to let go of the sword, my hands no longer able to grip anything. I snapped a boot up, catching Faris in the jaw and sending him over backward with the blow.

“You do not belong here.” Berget’s voice drew me back from the rage, but confusion replaced it. I wasn’t so sure that was preferable.