Bloody Valentine (7 page)

T
hey had been together for only a few months, but Schuyler knew the sound of Jack’s step by heart, and something about the footsteps approaching the room sounded strange—as if someone was trying too hard to
sound
like Jack. She was instantly on alert, and removed her mother’s sword from its hidden sheath, grasping its jeweled handle tightly. She stood by the side of the door and waited. The footsteps stopped abruptly, and there was only silence. She sensed that whoever was outside that door knew that she was aware of the deception, and she slowed down her breathing and calmed her nerves.

When the door opened, its centuries-old hinges turned without creaking, and Schuyler realized her unwanted visitor had set a spell of silence around the room. No one would be able to hear her scream for help. Not that she needed any. She could defend herself. When the tip of a sword appeared at the opening, she held her breath and steadied her hand, ready to attack.

A black-clad Venator entered the room, stepping soundlessly toward her across the rough wood floors. The black-and-silver cross on his clothing marked him as one of the Countess’s men, and Schuyler felt absurdly thankful that he was not from the New York Coven.

She lifted her weapon. The Venators’ relentless pursuit had added misery upon misery to her life. She never felt safe anywhere, and the opportunity to finally face that fear and fight a hidden and unstoppable enemy came as a relief.

The man in black swung wide with his sword, and she managed to block his blow even as his reach exceeded hers by more than a foot. A simple swordfight would not end in her favor, and Schuyler circled the room for a moment, tracing a path just outside of his weapon’s reach. If she fought this battle on his terms, she would be his captive in mere moments.

The Venator attacked again; but instead of meeting his parry, Schuyler jumped up and landed on a wood truss that crossed the room’s high cathedral ceiling. Safe for a moment, she looked down at her foe. He crouched in preparation to leap; but before he could fly, Schuyler slashed fiercely at the wooden trusses holding her. The heavy timber split like soft twigs, sending the massive beams collapsing down on the Venator. She leapt from beam to beam, breaking the trusses, and the wooden shards rained down to the floor, splinters shattering in all directions.

The destruction would have raised a ruckus large enough to wake the entire city had it not been for the
silentio
. The roof heaved, but held. Meanwhile, the Venator had managed to climb on top of the woodpile and was closing in fast. Schuyler turned back quickly and cut the nearest post to its base, sending it flying toward her attacker.

The Venator looked up just as the first shards bit into his shoulder. With inhuman speed, he stopped it from crushing him by driving his blade into the heavy wood. Now was her chance. Schuyler leapt toward the Vena-tor, and the force of her left foot crashed on his clasped hands, pushing them against the hilt of his sword in the opposite direction until the weapon snapped in half. Schuyler drew her own sword and pressed it to his neck.

“Surrender!” she demanded, her voice echoing through the room. She had broken the spell when she had broken his blade.

The Venator only regarded her with contempt. “You can slay me, but doing so will doom your friend.” He lifted his hand and turned his palm to reveal a Venator stone, hanging on a chain—and inside the stone was an image.

The stone showed Oliver Hazard-Perry, blindfolded and bound.

Schuyler gasped. “This is a trick. Oliver is back in New York….” she said, keeping her sword at his neck.

“He arrived in Italy a half an hour ago. We caught him in the airport.”

“But why would he be in Italy unless…” And then Schuyler realized: Jack’s mysterious errands. The other night when he had asked her what she wanted most for their bonding, she had told him that she only wished her friends could be there on the most important day of her life. She had told him she knew it was impossible and that it was silly of her to wish for something she could not have. Oliver was working for the Repository back in New York, and who knew where Bliss had gone. But Jack had made it happen. Her love had invited her friends to their bonding.

Her heart melted a little, but her happiness at discovering Jack’s secrets had to wait. Oliver was a hostage. Her dear sweet friend—she felt a lump in her throat when she thought of the extent of his generosity. He had come to her bonding to celebrate. He had arrived as a guest only to become a victim.

Schuyler kept her sword at the Venator’s throat. “What do you want for his life?”

The Truth Seeker smiled. “I knew you would come around. This could have been accomplished without all this ruckus.” He removed a velvet pouch from his pocket and shook out a white metal ring. “Give this to Abbadon,” he directed, and whispered a few words into her ear. “Make sure he wears it always.”

“What will it do?” Schuyler asked, staring at the ring.

“The spell will keep him from being able to express his true nature. When we meet again, he will not be able to overpower us, and we will have both of you in our custody. Your love for Abbadon is molded into the ring. As long as your love for him holds, the ring will keep his power in check.”

She balked. The ring had the power to turn the deepest, most important part of her soul into a restraint, a handcuff. They meant to trap Jack with her true love for him. “No. I cannot. I will not.”

“You will do as told, or I will make certain that your friend not only perishes, but that his death is long and painful. If you tell Abbadon the truth, if you try to find help, your friend will die immediately. Take the seeing stone and wear it around your neck. It will enable us to see what you see and hear what you say, even in the glom. Give Abbadon the ring. Or sacrifice your friend. We will be watching.”

Then, with a few words, the Venator restored the room to its former, uncluttered state.

T
he man in black disappeared out the window just as the door opened again. This time it was Jack who entered. Schuyler hurriedly put away the ring in the velvet pouch, but as the Venator had instructed, wore the seeing stone around her neck.

Jack had a worried look on his handsome face, and sat on the bed with a heavy sigh as he removed his boots.

“What’s wrong?” Schuyler asked, moving to kneel behind him so that she could gently rub his shoulders. His muscles felt tight and strained, and she worked her fingers on the knots.

“The Countess’s Venators will be here soon. I fear the Petruvians have betrayed us,” he told her.

“Ghedi?” she asked, alarmed.

“No—he is a friend. He was the one who warned me. But the bonding cannot wait until Saturday. We must leave as soon as we can. They will be upon us if we do not move.”

If only she could tell him the Venators had already found them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to her and reading the distress on her face. “I know it’s not the kind of news a bride wants to hear before her bonding.”

“No, no…it’s not that….” She wanted to tell him everything, but she did not have a choice. She would have to do what the Venator had ordered her to do. Oliver would die if she did not. She removed the velvet pouch from her pocket and, as if in a dream, she offered it to Jack.

“What’s this?” he asked.

Her hands shook. “I wanted to wait and give you this at the bonding, but since we have so little time…Will you wear this for me now?”

In answer, Jack held out his hand with a broad smile, and she slipped the ring on his finger. She whispered the words the Venator had ordered her to say. “This ring is a symbol of my faithfulness, it binds you to me, and my love shall hold you always.”

There. She’d done it.

She held his hand for a long moment, and with her finger traced two circles under his palm. The gesture was part of the code they had developed when they had been under the Countess’s “protection.” The two circles meant that they were being watched. They had developed the secret signs in order to communicate with each other and plan their escape while under the Venators’ guard.

Jack looked at the ring on his finger but his face betrayed nothing. Did he understand what she had just told him? Did he remember their code? He had to.

Oliver’s life depended on it.

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Jack? Schuyler? You have a visitor,” Ghedi said. They exchanged a wary glance. Schuyler steeled herself—had the Venators come back so soon? But when the door opened, the face that appeared was so beloved and familiar that she immediately rushed to greet the new arrival. “Bliss!”

“Sky!” Bliss Llewellyn burst into the room, her copper tresses bouncing. She moved with a new vibrancy, and Schuyler was glad to see her friend looking so well—there was color in her cheeks and her green eyes sparkled with life. There was something different about her—her arms did not bear the telltale sign of the
sangre azul
. She did not know what happened to Bliss, only that her friend had survived the darkness that had tried to claim her as its own. Bliss had come out on the other side, looking better than ever; and for that Schuyler was thankful.

She hugged her friend tightly. “You’re here.”

“Of course. Once Jack said you guys were getting bonded, how could I not be here for you?” Bliss smiled. “I know this was supposed to be a surprise, Jack, but I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait. I have awful news.”

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Schuyler asked, but she had an inkling that she already knew.

Bliss crossed her arms. “I saw Oliver at customs, and we were supposed to meet up at baggage claim to catch a cab to the hotel together. I waited for him and he never showed. I looked around and I felt like I was being watched. Venators, by the looks of them. They were everywhere. I managed to slip away, but I think they got Oliver.” Bliss explained that she and Jane Murray had been in Chicago when Jack had called. Since she was supposed to be gone for only a few days, she had left the Watcher to stay on the trail of the Hellhound they had been tracking. “Do you know why they would take him?”

“It’s the European Coven. They’re after us,” Schuyler explained. “The Countess wants us dead. She’s still loyal to her brother—Lucifer.”

Bliss nodded to indicate she understood. They were never too far from the threat of the Morningstar—she knew better than most.

“Schuyler, can you find Oliver in the glom? We need to see where he’s being held, and you carry his blood. You should be able to find him faster than I,” Jack said.

Schuyler closed her eyes. She knew Jack was right, but she had a feeling they were walking into a trap. The Venators
wanted
them to find Oliver. They were being jerked around like puppets, but she had no other options. She couldn’t tell Jack what had happened earlier, about the danger that came from the ring he wore on his finger. She could only trust that he remembered the meaning behind her signal, and that somehow, they would be able to outsmart the Venators. They had done it before.

She reached out into the spirit world, searching for her friend and former familiar.
Ollie…where are you? Can you hear me?
No harm could come to him, not to Oliver, not to Bliss, not to her dear friends who had come to Italy for the purpose of celebrating her bonding. Whatever happened, Schuyler promised she would keep them safe.

Oliver?

I’m here.

Are you all right?

For the moment. Where are you?

Coming to get you.

Schuyler opened her eyes. “They’re holding him in the Villa Malavolta, the old Villa Feri. In the tower room.”

“I will go,” Jack said, putting on his jacket.

Schuyler shook her head. “Not alone. We’ll come, too.”

“You’ll need us,” Bliss agreed. “Even if I’m just human now.” She waved off their confusion. “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story.”

Jack turned to Schuyler and shook his head. “I cannot risk it.”
I cannot risk you.

“Jack,” Schuyler said softly. She took his hand, and glanced again at the traitorous ring he wore on his finger. “I am already in danger, my love, and you cannot protect me always. I can protect myself.”

And I need to be there to protect you, she thought, but could not say or send, lest the Venators hear.

J
ack knew he could not argue Schuyler out of joining the rescue party. He was glad she had Bliss with her—it would help to have a friend fighting by her side. Not that anything was going to happen, of course; he was going to make sure of it.

He pointed to the ceiling. “They’re right above us.”

The three of them had raced through the city’s ancient underground tunnels toward the intersection of Via del Podestà and Via Bernardo Martellini. The Florentine maze was identical to the one in Lutetia, and Jack had maneuvered through the twists and turns with ease. The building had been owned since the early fifteenth century by the same Blue Blood family that had close ties to the Medicis, but had recently been sold to an unknown bidder. Unlike most buildings in Florence, the villa had a basement so that its first floor would be symmetrical to the road. The tunnels led directly to its basement, and they had arrived in mere moments.

Now they were underneath the room where Oliver was being held. While there was no way to enter the room in the physical world without breaking through to the floor above, there were no such barriers in the glom. Once Jack was in the twilight world, he would be in the same space as the Venators. He could attack without even entering the room.

“It sounds like there are hundreds of them up there,” Schuyler said.

Jack nodded. It was the perfect plan. As Abbadon, he would subdue the Venators in the glom, while Schuyler and Bliss rescued Oliver in the physical world.

“Jack…” Schuyler said. She bit her lip. “Be careful.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

Jack Force moved into the glom. Schuyler was right: he had sensed the presence of more than a hundred Venators guarding the former Conduit in the physical world. Yet only three of the Truth Seekers were posted in the glom.

Strange that his enemies had chosen to keep their forces gathered in the tangible universe. Surely they knew Abbadon would attack in the twilight world first. Which meant the Venators did not fear his strength in the glom. But why?

Jack hunched downward, clenching his fists.

The first Venator dove headlong toward Jack, wielding a black sword. Jack met the man’s thrust by grabbing the Venator’s wrist and turning the blade toward the Venator’s own body. He used the momentum of the Venator’s own charge against him and drove the blade right into his opponent’s knee, splitting the flesh and tearing the joint wide. The Venator rolled sideways in agony as he drifted out of the glom. The remaining two formed a tight circle around Jack.

They attacked in unison this time, one advancing from the front while the other slid toward him from the rear. Jack preempted their attack, leaping backward to smash into the attacker’s chest. The move was unexpected, and he hit the man hard before the Venator had drawn his blade. His adversary reeled to the ground, stunned.

Jack’s unexpected leap kept him clear of the third Venator’s advance for a moment, and he took the opportunity to remove the sword from the Venator’s fallen comrade before the man slipped out of the glom. Jack swung the blade in a tight arc, feeling the weight of the sword, sensing its internal balance and strength.

He tossed the weapon to his other hand and traced a line inches from the Venator’s chest. “Call your friends. They were arrogant to have sent only three men when a hundred wait in reserve. Call them all if you think you have a chance of taking me tonight.”

Jack held the man’s gaze and did not blink. He waited until the Venator disappeared from the glom before relaxing his hand.

Would they take the bait?
Their plan would only work if Jack could draw all of them into the glom and away from the room where they held Oliver.

Jack waited in the void of the glom, tense and alone. He balanced his sword in readiness. Where were they?

Finally, the first Venator blinked into the spirit world.

Jack raised his sword and then raised it higher as more and more of them appeared. He had miscalculated. There were more than a hundred of them. Their numbers were astounding. Almost all of the Vena-tors in service to the European Coven had to be here. The Countess wanted her revenge very dearly, it was clear.

He was surrounded. Jack did the only thing he could—he lowered his weapon. It was useless against a group of this size. The Venator army closed in tightly around him. Their faces were calm. They had no fear. Their numbers were vast, their strength overwhelming.

“Surrender, Abbadon! Your defeat is guaranteed.” The words came from a vampire Jack did not recognize. The Venator that led this army had been nothing more than a foot soldier in the celestial army Jack had commanded long ago.

This was going to be too easy, really. He began the transformation into his true form, calling up the immortal spirit that was housed in his blood for time immemorial. Abbadon, the Unlikely. Angel of the Apocalypse. Destroyer of Worlds.

But nothing happened. No dark wings sprouted from his back, no horns grew on his forehead, he was without the strength of a million demons coursing through his veins. He remained Jack Force. Just another eighteen-year-old boy.

Ah.

So that was their game.

He had guessed as much, the moment Schuyler had drawn those two circles on his palm. Had seen her hands shake as she had put the ring on his finger. They had placed a cursed bonding spell on them, to limit his powers. To stop him from turning into Abbadon. Held back by the love she felt for him. He had noticed that telltale stone around her neck, disguised as a pendant. They were watching, they were waiting.
This
is what they wanted him to do. They wanted him weak and vulnerable, bereft of his immortal power.

“Something wrong, Abbadon?” the Venator sneered. “Where is your strength now?”

Jack sighed. “Do you truly believe that brute force is my only weapon? That after centuries of rule in Heaven, I wield no power but my own sword?”

The Venator smirked. “What other power could you possibly still have? After today, they will call you Abbadon the Weak.”

In reply, Jack spoke a small incantation, a prayer that only he could fashion. The glom darkened considerably, and from the fatal blackness arose the creatures of the Underworld, the Black Fire elementals at his command, as one of the First Born, an Angel of the Dark, captain of the lost and withering souls of Hell.

Abbadon might be chained, but Jack still carried his spirit, and the primal creatures bowed to their master. He screamed as he drove his dark army into battle. How ironic that stripped of his power to transform, only then did he recall the breadth and depth of the darkness that had molded him. For too long he had not made use of the powers of the Dark, had not tapped into the deep, hidden strength of the Underworld where he had been made and his name forged in fire and death.

The dark creatures overpowered the Venators in strength and number. Jack pitied the Truth Seekers until he remembered Schuyler’s anguished face from earlier that evening. The Countess had brought death and bloodshed to their bonding. That could not be helped now. He only hoped Schuyler had been able to carry out her part of the plan, that she and her friends were safe.

Jack looked down at the band of steel that was wrapped around his finger, dull and ordinary, even as its dark magic glowed with a fiery treachery.