Be Still My Vampire (19 page)

“Stop it!” Emma struggled, but both male vampires held her tight. She grew still when she noticed Angus’s face. He was watching her, his eyes filled with pain. Oh God, what had she done? She’d led them into a trap.

The woman gave Emma a disgusted look, then grasped Angus’s chin with her long red fingernails and forced his face back to her. “Don’t look at her. You could have owned the world with me. But when I asked you to kill one puny little mortal, you refused. And here you are, killing your own kind for what? Aworthless mortal bitch? ”

“Katya, enough!” Alek yelled. “Torture him later. We need to transport these two before it’s too late.”

“All right, all right.” Katya leaned over to grab Angus’s arm, and they both vanished.

“No!” Emma screamed. She kicked at her captors.

Alek pulled her tight against him and pressed the knife to her neck. “We’ve never been there before, Uri. You need to call.”

Uri punched in a number on his phone.“Allo?”

“Stop!”

Emma glanced up and spotted Robby and Giacomo on the roof, moving toward them with swords in their hands.

“Release her!” Robby yelled.

“Come any closer, and I’m slitting her throat.” Alek turned toward Uri, dragging Emma with him. “Grab on to us. Let’s go!”

Uri grabbed Emma’s arm and spoke into his phone, “Paris, nous arrivons.”

Emma glanced up at the stricken faces of Robby and Giacomo. “Paris!” she shouted just before everything went black.

Emma was just becoming aware of her surroundings when she felt a knife prick her neck. She winced, but refused to give Alek the pleasure of hearing her cry out in pain.

“You have a loud mouth,” he hissed in her ear.

“Is the mortal giving you trouble?” Katya asked.

“No.” Alek yanked on Emma’s hair and tilted her head to expose her neck. “I just wanted a little taste.” He leaned down and licked the drop of blood from her neck.

Her stomach twinged. Still, Alek’s initial reaction gave her hope. He was pissed that she’d yelled outParis , so most likely, she’d steered Robby and Giacomo in the right direction. She also noted that Alek and Uri neglected to tell Katya what she’d done. They were probably afraid of incurring the queen bitch’s wrath.

Emma quickly surveyed the scene. They appeared to be in an old wine cellar. Candlelight flickered from rusty iron sconces along stone walls. Wooden racks cradled row after row of dusty wine bottles. The air was chilly and smelled of ancient mold. Angus lay in a neglected heap on the hard stone floor.

“Zhis woman is zhe infamous slayer?” a man asked in a French accent. He approached Emma with a mincing gait, studying her with eyes that looked like black slits in his puffy white face. “Amazing. She has killed four of your friends,non ?”

“Six,” Emma corrected him. “I’ve killed six of her little minions, and it was pathetically easy.”

Katya slapped her.

The French vampire giggled. “Meow, hiss!” He curled his chubby white fingers to resemble claws. “I just adore a good catfight.” He gazed at Emma fondly. “But she is special, zhis one,non ? May I take a whip to her?”

“If we have time.” Katya patted him on the arm. “Brouchard, we need to secure the prisoners before the sun rises.”

“Ah, yes. But of course.” Brouchard rubbed his plump white hands together. “Zhis is so exciting! It is not often that I have such honored guests.” He laughed and waved his hand in the air. “Many visit my cellar, but very few leave.”

He stepped closer to Emma. “Shall I tell you my darkest secret, how I lure my victims to their doom?”

“No.”

He sneered. His pointed canine teeth looked yellow against his pasty white skin. “You are a fiery one,n’est-ce pas? I wager your blood runs hot.” He leaned forward to sniff.

“Easy, Brouchard.” Katya placed a hand on his shoulder. “I need her alive.”

“Ah, yes.” Brouchard stepped back. He flipped a lacy handkerchief from the pocket of his velvet dinner jacket and dabbed at his mouth. “She is a little present for Casimir. He will find her quite tasty.”

Emma swallowed hard. She glanced at Angus. His eyes were following everyone’s movements.

Brouchard strolled to a round table, topped with a pristine white tablecloth. Elegant china was set for two. “You see, my dear, when I invite zhe lovely young men and ladies to dinner, zhey come gladly to see my famous wine collection. Zhey never realize till it is too late zhatzhey are my dinner.”

Creepy little serial killer. Emma kept her face blank to hide her disgust.

“I am a gentleman.” Brouchard sauntered down a row of racks, running his pasty fingers over the wine bottles. “I always allow my guests to choose the wine. Once zhey have enjoyed zheir fill, I take… my fill.” He patted his plump belly and giggled. “I have a big appetite for life,non? ”

“Enough, Brouchard.” Katya yawned. “The sun is rising.”

“Yes, yes. I have coffins zhis way.” Brouchard scurried past several rows of bottles. “And zhere is a storeroom where we can lock up zhe prisoners.”

Alek pulled Emma along with him. Uri hefted Angus over his shoulder and followed them.

“Here are zhe coffins.” Brouchard waved a hand toward a line of eight coffins. “Zhey are very nice,non? But you do not need so many now. Only zhree of you came.” He looked at Emma and giggled. “Naughty girl. Are you sure I cannot whip her?”

“Later,” Katya said. “Where’s the storeroom?”

“Here.” Brouchard shoved a tapestry on the wall to the side and revealed an old wooden door. He unlocked it with a skeleton key, and it opened with a loud creak. “Spooky inside,non? ”

He laughed as he removed a candle from a nearby sconce. “I will show you zhe room.” He strolled inside. “It is perfect,n’est-ce pas? Zhere is no way out.”

Uri walked in and dumped Angus on the floor.

Brouchard snickered. “He is a big one.” He nudged Angus’s kilt up with his foot. “A pity you can only stay one night.”

“Leave him alone, you pervert,” Emma muttered as Alek hauled her into the room.

“Shut up.” Alek yanked her arms back. “I need some rope to tie her.”

“But of course.” Brouchard exited the room, but Emma could still hear him. “You will tell Casimir I was very helpful, yes?”

“Of course,” Katya assured him. “You do have a mortal guard for the daytime, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes. Hubert.” The way Brouchard pronounced his guard’s name, it sounded likeOo-bear . He minced back into the storeroom and handed Alek some drapery cords. “Will zhese do?”

“Yes.” Alek tied Emma’s wrists together behind her back.

“Take her tote bag,” Katya reminded him.

Emma cursed silently as Alek cut her bag off with his knife. There went her cell phone and stakes.

Brouchard giggled. “You have made her angry.” He patted her on the cheek. “You must behave during zhe day,ch . Do not make my dear Hubert angry. He can be very cruel.”

Emma pulled away from Brouchard’s chubby hand. “Then maybe you should whip him.”

Brouchard yawned. “Oh, but I have. No doubt, it is why zhe poor brute is so foul-tempered. Poor Hubert.”

Alek shoved Emma onto the floor next to Angus. “If you try to escape, Hubert will kill you both.”

“Come,mes amis .” Brouchard strolled from the room. “We must have our beauty sleep.”

Alek closed the door. Without Brouchard’s candle, the room was very dark. Emma remembered seeing some old chairs and tables pushed against the walls, but nothing useful for escape. She listened to the sounds in the next room. Once the vampires were dead for the day, she would only have Hubert to deal with.

“Emma,” Angus whispered. When she gasped, he continued, “Speak softly so they willna hear.”

She wiggled closer to him. “Has the poison worn off?”

“No’ quite. I canna move my arms or legs. Emma, I will fall into my death-sleep soon. If ye can escape, ye must.”

She started to protest, since she didn’t want to leave him. But he was right. Her best chance for escape was during the day, and she could always bring back help for Angus. “All right. I think we’re in Paris.”

“Aye. Go to Jean-Luc Echarpe’s studio on the Champs-Elys. The daytime guards there work for me. They can help you.”

“Okay.” She was still tied up, though. “Is your dagger still in your sock?”

“Aye. Take it.” His speech became more slurred. “My sporran. I need the flask. Hide it… underneath me.”

“Underneath you?”

“In case they take my… ”

“Sporran?” She waited, but he didn’t reply. She laid her head on his chest and heard nothing. He was gone.

A mournful feeling invaded her heart, and she suddenly felt like crying. Everyone she’d ever cared about had died. How could she stand to lose one more? “I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She needed her wits about her. Angus was counting on her. She rotated about so her head was next to his feet. Then she wiggled around till she felt her fingers make contact with the hilt of thesgian dubh hidden under his sock. She managed to pull it out, then sat up to saw through the cords binding her wrists. It was a slow and awkward process, but she kept at it.

So far, no sound from the other room. The storeroom seemed a bit lighter. She spotted a few slivers of light at the top of the far wall. Perhaps a small window that had been boarded up? She would need to make sure none of the sunlight fell on Angus.

She could barely make out his profile in the dim light. He’d told her the truth from the beginning. There were good vampires and bad ones, and Sean’s activities with the Stake-Out team were nothing but a nuisance, getting in the way of the good Vamps who wanted to protect mankind. If she ever survived this, she was quitting her job.

Aha! The cords finally broke free. She slipped the knife into her belt, then dragged Angus’s body to the darkest corner of the room. Heavy footsteps sounded in the wine cellar, and a shadow dimmed the light under the door. Hubert was there, listening. She needed to act quickly. She opened Angus’s sporran and dug around. Thank goodness he carried a purse. She smiled to herself, imagining his reaction to the wordpurse .

She located the metal flask, then wedged it underneath his back. Normally that would be very uncomfortable, but poor Angus was dead to the world right now. She pulled out his cell phone and opened it. Whom to call? Connor was first in his directory, so she called him.

She glanced toward the door. Hubert might hear her talking, so she should text message instead. Unfortunately, the connection to Connor never went through. Shit. She wasn’t getting a signal down in this hole.

She slipped the phone into her pocket and carried a chair over to the far wall. It looked like a fragile antique, so she hoped it would carry her weight. She climbed onto the cushioned brocade seat and reached for the window. Too high.

She found a wooden table about the size of a card table, light enough that she could carry it. She set it carefully beneath the window, then climbed on top. Now she could reach the slats nailed horizontally across the small window. She curled her hands around two slats and yanked. They held firm. She lifted herself up and peered through the gap.

There was a dingy narrow street. Sunlight dappled in puddles of rainwater that gathered in the broken pavement. Footsteps approached.

Emma glanced back. No sign of Hubert. The footsteps drew closer. There was one gait, heavy and determined, and a smaller one, quick and light with a pattering sound. A dog, perhaps.

“Psst!” Emma hissed. “A moi!” She flinched when a wet, black nose suddenly nuzzled her hand. Okay, so she had the dog’s attention. Now if she could just contact the owner. The dog pranced about excitedly. A white poodle with a pink bow on its puffy head.

“A moi! Aidez-nous,” Emma whispered as loud as she dared.

The poodle barked, loud and shrill. The dog’s owner shouted and yanked on its leash. They hurried away.

The door behind her slammed open.

She dropped onto the table and turned. Light spilled into the storeroom from the wine cellar, along with the smell of sausage and eggs. In the doorway, a bulky black shadow loomed.

“Brouchard said you would be trouble.” Hubert entered the room. His accent was as thick as his neck and arms.

He charged, bellowing like a bull. Emma remained on the table. She landed a good kick to his chest, but it only slowed him down. He grabbed one of her ankles and yanked. She fell onto her rear, but used the momentum to roll back, then forward. She kicked Hubert hard in the gut. He stumbled back. She jumped to the floor, whipped the knife from her belt, and lunged forward. The knife slid in with horrifying ease. He cried out, then collapsed backward onto the floor.

Emma stood over him, the bloody knife in her hand, and her stomach churning. Shit. She was used to killing vampires. They didn’t bleed like this. They simply turned to dust.

Hubert writhed on the floor, moaning.

“Hang on. I’ll get an ambulance.” She’d find her way to Angus’s security men on the Champs-Elys. But first there were four vampires in the next room who needed to be staked. Angus’s knife would work just fine. She strode toward the door.

A board slammed into her face. She fell back onto her rear as lightning jolts of pain zigzagged across her face. Her eyes saw double for a second, then focused on one man standing in the doorway. He was small and thin.

“You made a fatal error,ch .I am Hubert. And I am prepared for the likes of you.”

She scrambled to her feet, but he swung the board at her head once again. She collapsed to the side. Her head throbbed. The knife tumbled from her hand.

With a groan, she turned her head to see him. His figure wavered as pain shot through her.

He withdrew a syringe from his coat pocket. “I should kill you for what you did to my dear Rolfe.” A stream of liquid squirted from the needle.

Emma willed her body to stand up and fight, but her brain was too battered to get the orders out. She felt the floor beside her. Her fingers touched the hilt of the knife.

“But my master wants you alive. So I will only make you sleep.” He stepped toward her.

She struck at his shins with her feet, and he stumbled back.

“Bitch!” He leaped on top of her and stabbed the syringe into her neck. Instantly his face grew hazy.

He leaned forward, sneering at her. “You should not have made me angry. Now I will have to play with you while you sleep.”

With a great surge of effort, she plunged the knife into his back.

He shrieked and twisted, trying to reach the knife. He fell beside her, his body contorting.

Her eyelids drooped. She almost welcomed the drugged sleep, for it numbed the throbbing pain.

Hubert grew still beside her. A sense of doom spread through her as the drug dragged her into oblivion. She’d failed Angus once again.

Angus awoke with the surge of energy that jolted his body every evening at sunset. With his first deep breath, he was accosted by the hideous smell of foul, congealed blood, which meant one thing: death. His heart constricted. No, not Emma!

He scrambled to his feet while his eyes adjusted to the dark room. His metal flask was on the floor. And there were three bodies. The devil take it, what had happened? He rushed to the first body. It was a huge man with a knife wound to the chest. He’d bled out on the cold stone floor. The smell of spoiled blood turned Angus’s stomach.

He staggered to the next pair of bodies. A slim man lay dead with thesgian dubh in his back. The blood within him had congealed to a slimy goop, unfit for consumption. Beside him was Emma. Her heart was beating, slow and steady. Angus’s relief was cut short by one look at her face. The bastards! Her face was a mass of bruises and lumps. Poor lass. She must have fought for her life while he’d rested nearby totally oblivious. He cursed his inability to protect her during the day.