The Day of the Dead (5 page)

‘
I need a distraction!
Something else to think about. Pain sometimes works.’

Tomas could feel the pressure building
in the room, like a storm in the distance, about to break.
‘Sometimes isn’t good enough! I can put you under a suggestion –
’

‘
No, you can’t.’

‘
I assure you –
’

‘
I’m a jinx!’ she repeated
furiously. ‘My magic doesn’t work like most people’s! I’m not
susceptible to suggestions, vampiric or otherwise. Now hit me,
goddammit!’

‘
No,’ he said, and kissed
her. It was an instinctive reaction, something unexpected that
might shock her enough to stop this without actually hurting her.
But then she shuddered slightly and her mouth opened under his and
her hands clenched on his shoulders and somehow he was kissing her
savagely, this woman he barely knew who might be the last person he
ever touched, the last warmth he ever felt.

Sarah’s heartbeat was hard against his
hand, the urgent thump resonating through his body. They stumbled
back into the cavern wall, Tomas cradling the back of her head to
save her from a concussion, trying to remember to be careful when
his hands were so hungry that he couldn’t hold them still. Sarah
was shaking almost as hard as the room. And, for a moment, it was
the most natural thing in the world to be kissing her desperately,
both hands locked around her head, the long hair coming loose under
his fingers, while the mountain threatened to fall in around them
and death lay waiting, sure and inevitable, only moments
away.

Tomas hadn’t realized fully until that
moment how certain he’d become that he wouldn’t survive the night.
He felt the knowledge settle into him now along with her breath,
and instead of sadness or regret, he found himself just
overwhelmingly grateful that, if this was the end, at least he
wasn’t facing it alone. It was, all things considered, more than he
deserved.

And then Sarah pulled away, her eyes
wide open, shocked and angry, and struck him hard across the mouth.
It was enough to rock his head back, to make him taste the rich,
metallic tang of his own blood. He wiped a smear off his lip with a
thumb as she pushed at him, hard.

‘
I said
hit
me! Are you deaf?’ She didn’t
wait for an answer, but launched herself towards him, fist
clenching.

Tomas caught her hands, effortlessly
holding her away from him. ‘Vampires don’t get in fights with
humans unless we intend to kill. You’re too vulnerable, too easily
broken.’

Another rock hit the floor, hard
enough to send bones and debris flying. Sara looked around wildly.
‘If you don’t, we’ll both be broken! Nothing else
works!’

He grabbed her by the hips, swinging
her against the wall, slamming her backwards into it. Startled out
of fighting for a moment, she just stood there, panting and staring
up at him as he pressed against her. ‘If I misjudge, there will be
no one to stop this hillside from erupting just as the cemetery
did. You’ll be unconscious or worse, and we’ll both die – as will
your brother.’

His hands were busy as he spoke, and
with a sharp tug on the hem of her blouse, he sent the buttons
flying. By the time he’d pushed the cloth out of the way, getting
his fingers on the living warmth beneath, her nipples had gone
tight and pebbly and she was gasping, her hands fisting in his
shirt. But she wasn’t pushing him off. She was kissing him
brutally, lips and teeth savage, pressing hard against his body
while her hands clawed at his back.

‘
Are you distracted yet?’
he breathed, as she ripped open his shirt, pushing his undershirt
up to his neck and biting at a nipple.

‘
I’ll let you know,’ she
said roughly, dragging their lips together again.

Her mouth tasted of the sharp sweet
tang of mescal, or maybe that was him. Her lips were sweet, but her
body was shaking and her eyes were darting everywhere as if certain
this wasn’t going to work. And it wasn’t, if he couldn’t get her
mind off the room and onto him – and keep it there. The room was
coming down in chunks around them and the only thing that kept
running through his mind was that it would be truly typical to come
a thousand miles to die in some deserted anteroom.

He was breathing hard, adrenaline
pumping through him, as he managed to get a hand between them. He
dipped his head for another kiss, hands slipping away from hot,
damp skin to tug impatiently at the button on her jeans, to work at
the zipper. He pushed the maddeningly tight material down her
thighs, his hand clenching on the soft flesh of her hip, rounded
and warm for his palm. He pulled her closer, fixed the angle
between them, and pushed into her.

Her legs wrapped around his thighs,
clenching, as he began moving. He’d been careful because he hadn’t
prepared her, but she gasped out, ‘I won’t break,’ her voice low
and rough, and he began thrusting hard and fast, the way his body
craved. His only concession to her comfort were his fingers working
between her thighs roughly.

Within moments she was
shuddering, her breath fracturing into harsh, quick gasps, panting,
‘
Harder
, damn
you!’

‘
Make me,’ he growled, and
in one quick movement she shoved him back, her foot behind his,
tripping him, sending them both falling to the floor and driving
herself onto him. Tomas barely noticed the hard floor or the
pottery shard that was gouging him in the back or the unstable
ceiling hanging above him. He was too busy watching her face. He
kept his hands on her hips, guiding her, but not giving in to her
gasped commands. Instead, he deliberately slowed down, then
abruptly stopped, waiting.

‘
Tomas!’ He ignored her,
even though she wouldn’t stop squirming, pushing the jagged pot
shard further between his shoulder blades. She shifted, pulling
back enough to rip open his shirt, to rain biting kisses all along
his neck, to lick the hollow of his collarbone and mouth, his
shoulders. Tomas’s hands scrabbled desperately at the rubble
beneath him, but he didn’t move. He just lay there and took it,
amazed at how much he needed this, until she let out a frustrated
scream and raked her nails down his chest. ‘Move, damn
it!’

He just stared up at her, at her
glittering eyes and sweat drenched, dusty hair, her blouse open and
her jeans around her knees, giving him a view of the dark stain of
his hands against the pale skin of her hips. He wondered how he’d
ever thought her less than stunning. She glared at him and then
pulled farther back, letting him almost slide out of her, then
suddenly forced herself back onto him. She did it again and Tomas
bit back a groan, but he held himself completely still.

‘
Some help here!’ she
demanded, and did something with her hips that made his eyes roll
into the back of his head.

He slid his hands down the curve of
her back and tightened them on her slim waist. He could feel the
tremors in his frame the longer he held on and knew he’d soon have
no choice but to move. And she knew it, too– she was laughing when
he finally gave in, an exultant sound that ran like fire through
his veins.

He let her have her moment of triumph,
before suddenly stopping once more. It took her a second to notice,
then she stared down at him, momentarily speechless.

‘
That’s inhuman!’ she
finally hissed.

He grinned. ‘So am I.’

She wrapped her hand around his tie
and jerked him upwards, the new angle forcing a moan out of them
both. ‘Finish this or I swear – ’

Tomas was moving before she completed
the sentence, ignoring caution this time, fast and furious, glad
that he didn’t actually need to breathe because she hadn’t let go
of the tie. And then her hips were jerking in a way that was making
it hard for him to focus, her gasps loud in his ears, her body’s
pleasure doubling his own. He felt her shudder her release and the
clenching of her body triggered his, making them both groan deep in
the back of their throats – and a great mess of pebbles and dust
poured out of the ceiling.

It took Tomas a few seconds to realize
that he wasn’t trapped beneath a ton of dirt and rubble, that this
wasn’t a cave in, just the result of one final tremor. He dug
himself out to find Sarah staring about room, which was,
surprisingly, mostly still intact. It was also blessedly
quiet.

Those hazel eyes came back to rest on
him and she smiled a little crookedly, teeth a shock of white in
her dirty face. ‘Okay. I guess that method works, too.’

* * * * *

Instead of having to fight their way
to the centre of the complex as Tomas had expected, their path was
unobstructed, the halls echoing, silent and empty except for the
carved faces of long forgotten gods staring down from the walls and
lintels. That was more than strange – it was unprecedented. And
very bad.

Tomas had always known that his only
real chance was that he knew this place, and its master, better
than anyone. But nothing had gone as planned all night. He honestly
didn’t know what to expect when they finally made it to the huge
natural cave that Alejandro used as an audience hall.

He brought them in through a
little-known side tunnel that let out onto a set of steps about a
story above the cave floor. There were guards at the entrance,
finally, who Tomas dealt with by simply ordering them to sleep. He
was a first-level master; he hadn’t been worried about them. But
the creature sprawled on the throne-like chair at the head of the
room was first-level also, and far older than he.

As usual, Alejandro was dressed like a
Spanish nobleman of the conquest period, which he’d once been. He
didn’t look like a monster, with an attractive if florid face and
bright, intelligent black eyes. But then, the worst ones never did.
Seeing that face again brought a sudden, miserable lurch, a
shuddering memory of centuries of heartbreak and horror and
nauseating fear. Tomas had to clutch at the door jamb, feeling the
rock crumbling beneath his fingers, to keep silent.

Nobody else said anything, either.
Tomas had warned them that even a whispered word was likely to be
overheard, as beyond the excellent acoustics of the room itself was
the small factor of vampire hearing. So Sarah was quiet as they
surveyed the scene spread out below, although her face was
eloquent.

Tomas now knew why they hadn’t met
anyone on the way. The prisoners should have been downstairs, the
vampires getting ready to disburse throughout the property for the
hunt. Instead, the entire cavernous space was crammed with people,
mostly human, but with a ring of vampires circling them. It took
Tomas a moment to understand what was happening, because none of
this was normal.

A young Mexican man stumbled forward,
pushed by one of the guards. He landed near a group of five bodies.
There were lined up in a row at the front of the hall, their
throats slashed down to the bone, white gleaming through red flesh
in wide, jagged lines.

The floor beneath them was not the
chipped, angular surface of the outer halls, but worn to a smooth,
concave trough by generations of feet. A small stone altar had been
found when Alejandro moved in, leading to speculation that this had
once been the site of sacred rights. Blood from the corpses had run
down the central depression, looking like a long finger pointing
the way to the altar and to his throne above it.

Standing to the side of the carnage
were two men and a woman, all human, with expressions ranging from
dazed to disbelieving to horror struck. Tomas felt a hand grip his
arm, and looked down to see Sarah clutching it hard enough to
bruise had he been human. ‘To the right,’ she mouthed, and nodded
to indicate the tall, lanky young man at the end of the lineup, his
face dead white and smeared with blood.

He looked like he’d put up a struggle,
but there was nothing of that spirit visible now. He was swaying
slightly on his feet, mouth slack, and blinking slowly behind his
glasses like a sleepy owl. Shock, or close to it, Tomas thought; so
much for hoping he could run on cue.

‘
You want to save the life
of this man?’ Alejandro asked, addressing the young brunette on the
other end of the line. ‘Because you know what I want.’

Instead of answering, the young woman
giggled, a nervous, high-pitched sound that warned of incipient
hysteria. It reverberated oddly in the high vault of the room;
laughter wasn’t a sound that lived here, and the echoes came back
with sharp, mocking edges. She stopped, cutting it off
abruptly.

‘
We told you already,’ the
older man next to her said, his salt and pepper beard quivering
more than his voice. ‘What you ask is impossible. Even if we could
create that many – which we can’t – keeping them under control
would be – ’

‘
They’re zombies!’
Alejandro screamed, cutting him off. He gestured savagely to a row
of odd-looking spectators assembled behind his throne. The missing
kings looked out with dead, empty eyes onto the crowd, assembled
once more in an audience chamber, as if to give their advice.
‘They’ll have no more mind than these! A child could control
them!’

‘
If the child had multiple
souls,’ the older man snapped. ‘We’re necromancers, not puppeteers!
To raise a zombie, we must lend it part of our soul – that is the
only way to direct it. I can create one or two zombies at a time –
no more. An especially-gifted bokor might be able to manage as many
as five, but a whole army?’ he gestured to the mass of waiting
humans. They were there, Tomas realized with a sickening lurch, to
be turned into more troops for Alejandro’s growing megalomania.
Troops who wouldn’t question his orders, wouldn’t challenge him as
Tomas and a few others, had dared. ‘You ask the
impossible!’