Broken Heart 03 Because Your Vampire Said So (7 page)

“Once again, Zerina, you’ve done a fab job of pissing off the wrong people.” Terran sighed as she sheathed her sword.

Zerina couldn’t say much, seeing as how I was squeezing the breath out of her. Gabriel laid a hand on my arm. My skin tingled at the contact.

“Zee isn’t the most tactful person, but we like having her around.”

“I won’t ask you twice.” I dropped her bony ass onto the chaise and she scrambled off it. I got the distinct impression she was both shocked and pissed off, but I didn’t care. I watched her hurry toward a dark tunnel a few feet away.

“She’s a fairy. Glamour doesn’t work on her,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah, well, fear seemed to do the trick.” If he thought I gave a crap about Zerina being a fairy, he was wrong.

Nerve-wracked, I turned and studied the fountain. Man alive, I just knew I’d seen that woman before. Had it been as a human or as a vampire? I’d never been normal, not even as a human being, much as I tried. As a vampire, I’d pretty much left normal behind for good. I slept through the day and drank blood and could see ghosts.

I heard footsteps and turned. Wilson exited the tunnel, followed by Zerina. She shot me a look of pure pissed off, but I didn’t care. Relief cascaded through me as I hurried toward Wilson with every intention of yanking him into my arms.

He avoided the embrace.

He seemed relieved to see me, but he couldn’t stop resenting me long enough to just hug me. Hurt crowded my chest, but I tried not to show it.

Zerina smirked. “He ain’t got no respect for no one, has he? Not even the only one here who loves ‘im. Arsehole.”

She practically skipped back to her chaise and her books. I almost followed and throttled her right then and there because doing so would be easier than admitting she was right.

Wilson didn’t respect me. He was too caught up in his own fears and failures to try to see beyond his world and into mine. He was punishing me for his childhood, for his dad’s leaving, for my staying—hell, I had a whole list of sins to pay for. Some weren’t even mine, but I felt the weight of the guilt. I took the penalties.

Isn’t that what you did when you loved someone more than your ownself?

“Thanks for saving my son,” I said, hearing the catch in my own voice. “How do we get out of here?”

“You must stay with us. It is our duty to protect you,” said Terran. Zerina snorted at this proclamation, but one look from Gabriel shut her up.

“You are the foretold ruler,” he said.

“Why don’t you tell her the rest,” goaded Zerina.

“For the love of God!” I wheeled around and glared at him. The people who had not yet revealed themselves backed up into the shadows. “Cut the crap, all right? I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m out.”

“Huh. She doesn’t strike me as queenly,” said Zerina.

“That’s enough, Zee,” snapped Gabriel. “She is the one named by the prophecy.”

Oh, here we go again! I looked at Gabriel. “Y’know, I don’t understand anything that’s gone on since the day we met.”

Wilson flopped onto one of the empty couches. He stared moodily at the fountain, pretending not to care. But he was listening. He was storing up every word spoken. I imagine he would have plenty to say about me and Gabriel.

Zerina extracted a book from her pile. The cover sported a big, black wolf howling up at the moon. The title was Werewolves Are Real! by Theodora Maribelle Monroe.

Brows raised, I looked at her.

“Page twenty-three,” she said. “It’s book-marked. “

I took the werewolf book and thumbed through the pages until I got to the right page. I read:

Legend of the Loup de Sang

In 1807, a small group of loup-garou immigrated from France to the town of Vincennes, the capital city in Indian Territory. In nine years, the area would become Indiana, the nineteenth state admitted to the Union.

Among the new arrivals was the widow Chantelle Marchand, who was eight months pregnant. Destitute and in need of protection from those who’d killed her husband, Chantelle made the long, treacherous journey to the United States to live with her father, Jacques Marchand.

Several years earlier, Marchand had come to the States and been among the first French traders to settle the area. He was the alpha of the local pack, and lived with his people in a community outside Vincennes.

Not long after Chantelle arrived, a territorial dispute erupted among the loup-garou and the deamhan fola, or vampires (read more about these creatures in my book: Vampires Are Real!).

One evening, the vampires viciously attacked the werewolves. The battle was intense and gruesome.

Chantelle was among the casualties.

As she lay dying, her father delivered a boy, whom they called Gabriel. Fortunately, Chantelle was able to see her son moments before she passed from the earthly plane. However, the newborn had been affected by the vampire’s attack on his mother.

Translated from the diary of Jacques Marchand:

I write these words with a heavy heart. My beloved Chantelle is dead, but the child I cut from her womb lives.

He is an abomination. Yet I cannot bring myself to rid the world of this creature. It is the fault of the vampires. They took my daughter’s life and cursed my grandchild.

Gabriel will not take milk. It is only by accident that I discovered his true sustenance: blood. He sleeps all day and stays up all night. Sunlight hurts him. Yet his heart beats. And he breathes.

The vampire who killed Chantelle tried to Turn her. I know the laws of the Ancients: No vampire will feed upon the flesh of lycanthropes, nor mate with them, nor Turn them.

By the time I arrived, the poison of the deamhan fola raced in my daughter’s veins. Killing him so quickly was a mistake. He should’ve suffered for his sins.

Already whispers and rumors run through the pack about my grandchild, the loup de sang. Soon, they will call a Council and demand action. I am the alpha. I must do what is best for the pack.

Marchand never again wrote about his grandchild, whom he called loup de sang, or blood wolf. To this day, rumors abound about Gabriel. Given that most werewolves live into their eight hundreds (and who knows how long loup de sang lived!), Gabriel is in the prime of his life.

That is, if his grandfather did not kill him.

I looked at Gabriel. “Is this true?”

“Yes. It’s just like I told you before, Patricia. I was born into both worlds. And yet, I am not part of either one.”

I shut the book. I couldn’t imagine running for your lives for two hundred years. I wondered how Arin and Terran got hooked up with him. Not to mention Zerina. How did you bring an irritable fairy into a lycanthrope family?

I thought I’d gotten a raw deal getting Turned into a vampire, but Gabriel had been born one. It was one thing to have your life irrevocably changed and quite another to have a life you couldn’t change.

“And this prophecy everyone keeps going on about?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but the words that echoed into the cave were not his.

“What the bloody hell have you done?” The shouted accusation arrived about five seconds before the man did. He appeared in a poof of white smoke. He was tall and thin, wearing a black robe with gold edging. The hood was thrown back. His hair was gray and shaggy, his face pockmarked and wrinkled. I couldn’t begin to guess his age, but he was old. His dark brown eyes took in the surroundings, landing on me last.

“Patricia! We thought you were…”

“Dead?” supplied Zerina in a tone suggesting she wished that were the case.

The man stalked toward Gabriel, waving his toothpick arms. “What were you thinking, boy? I told you not to go back.”

His gold eyes flashed with anger. “You know I cannot leave my mate in danger, Arin.” He brushed a loose curl away from my cheek. “I returned to you, Patricia. I recall you were rather happy to see me.”

That little reminder made me shut up.

Arin turned to Gabriel. “We must stay the course. No more going off on your own.”

“I’ll go wherever I like,” said Gabriel. “Especially if Patricia needs me.”

The man sighed as he walked between the couches and looked at Wilson. “Who is this?”

“The queen’s son,” answered Zerina. “Guess that makes him the prince.”

Wilson’s eyes widened as he chewed on that thought.

I stepped between the men, my gaze on the new guy. “Don’t fill his head up with ideas,” I said. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name is Arin,” he said. “Terran is my daughter. And I’ve known this arrogant whelp all his life.”

Gabriel growled. I blinked up at him. He looked as fierce as he did in his wolf form. “We do not have time for games. Our plan did not take into account the Ancients’ war.”

Arin sighed. “You can’t simply walk up to an unsuspecting Turn-blood, announce that she is savior of two peoples, and expect her to rejoice. “

“Thank you,” I said. Then I frowned. “What?”

Gabriel’s agitation was palpable. “They hid Lorcan’s condition from everyone. I have been shunned since birth, but the Consortium mutants enjoy freedom and respect!”

“Patience is a quality you have to yet cultivate, boy. The prophecy is on the cusp of coming true. But you cannot force it. Given your impudence, you might well have delayed it.”

What was this crapola? Mostly the Consortium did whatever it wanted and I didn’t give a rat’s ass as long as I got to keep my way of life. But what little had been left of my life was gone. The sudden realization that I would never walk back into my beauty shop buckled my knees.

Gabriel wrapped his arm around me and drew me into his embrace. I let him do it. I hadn’t wanted to think about why I felt so connected to him.

“Hua Mu Lan has turned against the Ancients,” said Terran. “She’s joined with Koschei.”

Arin swung away from us and paced in front of the fountain. “Lia is impetuous and enjoys her power. It is not surprising she would align with Koschei.”

“Wait a minute. That snotty bitch with the stupid name blew up my house?” I couldn’t wrap my brain around this idea. What about that horrid little apparition hanging around her and that god awful stench? “She stinks.”

“That’s a mild way of putting it,” said Terran.

“No, I mean it literally. My friend Jessica said that François smelled like garbage.” I received blank looks. “He’s the vampire who tried to kill Jess a few months back. Anyway, she was the only one who noticed the stench. And he had the Taint.”

Everyone in the room stared at me. Oh, hell. Why had I opened my big mouth? Now, wait a minute. If the smell was attached to the ugly spirit, then it made sense that I was the only one who’d noticed it.

“She had a nasty ghost pet,” I offered. “Maybe that thing was what stank to high heaven.”

“What did it look like?” asked Arin.

“A big black spot with two white marble-looking eyes.”

“Definitely not a ghost.” Arin walked to the desk and started digging through a pile of books. “I didn’t realize you also had the ability to see demon spirits.”

“Me, either.” I didn’t want to see demons. Hell, I didn’t want to see ghosts. I couldn’t help but think about how I’d touched Durga—and maybe that was why I saw the demon hanging around Lia. Then I’d touched Lia and almost set Patrick’s hair on fire.

“The demon attacking the Turn-bloods is Durga’s pet,” I said. “We had a run-in earlier.”

“Koschei’s recruited one more Ancient to his cause,” said Zerina. She sounded utterly delighted at the prospect. It made me wonder what sins the Ancients had committed against her.

“If that’s so,” said Arin gravely, “we are in for a bigger battle than I feared.”

I pulled out of Gabriel’s grip, then walked to a nearby couch and dropped into it. “I feel like I’ve been cast in an episode of Supernatural.”

“We have a lot to explain,” said Arin. He had abandoned his search for whatever demon-related information he’d wanted.

“Why don’t you start with the prophecy and go from there?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure how to feel. I was really good at shoving down my emotions, but the information being lobbed at me was hard to bury. I needed to sort it all out before I did anything. Like freak the fuck out.

“If Hua Mu Lan has her way, everything in Broken Heart will be toast,” said Terran. “Father, I think we should help the Consortium. If Koschei wins, he will”—her gaze slid to me— “make sure the prophecy never comes true.”

“If it’s a prophecy, doesn’t that sorta mean there’s no getting around it?” I asked.

“Free will often interferes with the forecasts of seers,” said Arin, smiling. “But this prediction seems on course. However, we would be wise not to underestimate Koschei’s powers.”

“Or Lia’s.” I wondered what else in Broken Heart had gotten fried thanks to Miss Magnolia Blossom.

Terran planted her butt on the couch next to me. “Koschei can be a very convincing man. Chances are good he’s recruited a number of powerful vampires to his side.”

Most vampires could bend the wills of humans, but it wasn’t the same as having the mind power to control others. Vampires from the Family Koschei could make you think you were in Hawaii when you were really sitting on a glacier.

Arin pulled out a single sheet of paper from a messy stack. He returned to us and sat on the edge of the fountain.

“ ‘A vampire queen shall come forth from the place of broken hearts. The seven powers of the Ancients will be hers to command,’ “ read Arin. “ ‘She shall bind with the outcast, and with this union, she will save the dual-natured. With her consort, she will rule vampires and lycanthropes as one.’ “

“None of that says a damned thing about me.”

“Astria Vedere’s prediction is one in a long line of predictions about the vampires and lycans, “ said Terran. “They even predicted that you and your friends would be turned into vampires. ‘Eleven will Turn; one will burn.’ “

Okay, that was scary. Eleven of us single parents had been Turned. I thought about poor Charlene, who’d been Turned with the rest of us. She was the mistress of Jessica’s late husband and the mother of Rich, Jr. Rich, Sr., had died because Charlene messed with his car, which led to his fatal accident. She’d burned, all right. She sat on Rich’s grave until the sun came up and fried her.

Hysteria welled, but I managed to hang on to my wits. Just because I’d touched two Ancients and might’ve gotten their powers was no reason to panic. “Unless the oracle gave y’all my name and address, you don’t know if I’m the one.”

“Yes, we do,” said Arin kindly. “You are of the Family Amahté, the only sect with the power to raise the dead. Rare are Turn-bloods of his line. Aside from Khenti, you are the only Amahté vampire in Broken Heart. Of the ten Turn-bloods left, only you can command spirits and corpses.”

“Yuck!” I shivered. “I see ghosts. I don’t tell ‘em what to do. And I sure as hell have never bossed around a dead body. That’s just wrong.”

“Ah, yes. Even so, you see that it’s only possible for you to command the seven powers,” said Arin.

What if I had accumulated the powers of Durga and Lia? Was it the beginning of getting all seven abilities? Foreboding crept through me and my stomach squeezed.

“So I don’t guess the Ancients would be real thrilled with a Turn-blood leader?” I asked.

“The lycans would not be happy, either.” Gabriel sat on the other side of me. His brows dipped and his lips were pressed together. I knew well that mix of anger and worry. I experienced it all the time as a mother.

“I tire of inaction!” Terran’s voice rang with frustration. “I vote we help kick Koschei’s ass.”

I agreed with her. I didn’t want some soulless bastard and his crazy friends marching on my town, trying to kill my family and friends.

“Are you going to introduce me to the others? “ I asked. I don’t know why I said that. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more introductions.

“What others?” asked Terran. “There’s only me, my father, Gabriel, and Zerina.”

I looked around the perimeter of the room, at those people hanging back in the shadows, watching us all. Ghosts. Damn. It was getting so I couldn’t tell the spirits from the humans. I hadn’t ever seen so many ghosts in one place.

“Who else is here?” Holding her sword, Terran jumped up from the couch and stalked around the cavern.

“No one who’s afraid of your weapons,” I admitted wearily. I caught Gabriel’s gaze. It was pointed in the direction of my tight T-shirt. I cleared my throat and his head jerked up. Red crawled up his neck to his cheeks.

I nearly laughed. Wasn’t that just cute as hell?

“Jeez, Mom!” Wilson threw me a disgusted look. “Can we just leave already? This place sucks.”

I didn’t want to have it out with him in front of these people. I was getting tired of our fighting and my worrying and his sassing.

“We don’t have anywhere to go,” I said through clenched teeth, “because our trailer and the beauty shop got blown up. Or did you miss that part while you were seething?”

“You don’t care about me!” he screamed, getting to his feet. “I hate you!”

His words hurt, even though I knew, or maybe I hoped, that he didn’t truly feel that way. He was hurting all the time, but I was beginning to realize I couldn’t fix him. Just like I hadn’t been able to fix his father.

“I can put ‘im back in the dungeon,” offered Zerina.

“Shut up, bitch!” Wilson glared at the fairy, his fists clenched.

Shock roared through me. I’d never heard him speak to a person that way. I raised him better than that! I hadn’t figured out how to respond, but Zerina didn’t need my help. She didn’t even look up from her book. She waved her hand and Wilson flew back onto the couch. She made a closing gesture with her hand and his lips mashed together.

If looks could kill, Wilson would’ve murdered us all in that instant. He couldn’t move or talk, and after a few moments of trying, he gave up.

I couldn’t fault Zerina’s action. I wished I had that ability. He’d insulted her and brought about his own punishment. A small part of me was glad to see that he was experiencing consequences. God knows I had run out of punishments that worked.

“He gets the point, okay?” I looked at the fairy and realized instantly how to disarm her. “Please, Zerina. Let my son go.”

The ire went right out of her. “Oh. Well, if you’re going to beg.”

She waved a hand at him, and my son was freed from her magic. I guess he’d had time to think about his behavior, because he had nothing else to say. He crossed his arms and tried to become one with the couch, his gaze pinned to the floor.

“I sense dark magic,” said Zerina.

Gabriel’s startled gaze met mine.

My body was jerked upward. For a second, I floated above the couch. Gabriel grabbed at my ankle, but too late. Whatever force held me hostage yanked me backward. I flew across the room.

Terran unsheathed her wicked sword, her gaze sweeping across the cavern. Our enemy was invisible, but not powerless. Her weapon was pulled out of her grip. It tumbled through the air and landed with a splash in the marble fountain.

Gabriel launched over the couch, and Arin pulled out a gun from beneath his robes. Whatever held me bound my arms, but not my legs. I kicked and screamed as terror scrabbled through me. What was going on? Who was doing this?

My gaze went to Wilson. “Get out of here, Wil!”

“Mom!” he cried. He glared at Gabriel. “Let her go, you asshole!”

“It’s not me,” said Gabriel. He rammed his shoulder against an invisible wall. Arin tried to approach from the right and Terran from the left. They both met resistance.

“Zerina, take the boy,” said Gabriel. “Get him someplace safe.”

Mouthy as that fairy was, she didn’t argue or hesitate. Zee wrapped her arms around Wilson’s shoulders.

My son’s terrified gaze never left mine as he and his rescuer disappeared in a pink flash. Relief skittered through my fear. At least my son was safe.

“Patricia!” Gabriel shouted, his fists striking the unseen barrier. “Patricia!”

I kicked for all I was worth and screamed myself hoarse. It was like being encased in brick. I couldn’t free myself. I wasn’t Zenlike in the best of moments. Panic and terror were making mincemeat of my sanity.

Patrick and Zerina popped into the cave behind Gabriel, gold sparkles dissipating. Patrick held a pair of short swords.

“Zee?” asked Terran, her shocked gaze taking in Patrick.

“He followed me,” groused Zerina. “He’s Sidhe, too.”

“My, my … aren’t you popular?” growled a voice next to my ear. The gray-skinned demon appeared; his massive arms tight around my waist. Shit-oh-shit-oh-shit.

“Andhaka,” I whispered.

The demon hissed. He loosed one of his arms and said words in a language I didn’t understand. A silver dagger materialized in his hand. He pressed the sharp blade against my throat.

Fear cha-chaed through me. Dread settled like a cold, hard lump in my stomach.

“Please. Don’t.” I hated the pitiful sound of my own words.

His arm tightened around my waist.

“You can’t harm her with that,” said Patrick, “much less remove her head.”

Gee, thanks, Patrick. Give the demon ideas, why don’t you. I glared at him, but his eyes were on Andhaka.

“I can hurt her plenty if the blade is poisoned with demon blood.” He pulled the knife away long enough to drag it along the arm clutching my stomach. When he returned it to my throat, the sulfur stink of his black blood made me gag.

Patrick blanched. Zee’s gaze went wide.

Gabriel smashed the barrier with his fist. “Don’t hurt her, you demon bastard!”

“What’s your bargain?” asked Arin.

“No!” cried Patrick.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” said Arin. “What do you want, Andhaka?”

“Many things,” said the demon. “You are all fools. You expect the loup de sang to live peacefully among vampires and lycans?”

“When Patricia is queen, he will be her consort, “ challenged Arin.

“Queen?” Patrick’s eyes bulged. “You think Patsy is the one who will rule vampires and lycans as one people? Are you crazy?”

I took offense at Patrick’s incredulous tone, even though I had no intention of being a queen of anyfuckingthing. Hmph. I’d never felt so underestimated and undervalued in all my life. Just because I knew how to add highlights and do a killer pageboy cut didn’t mean I was a dumb-ass. I could rule if I wanted to, thank you very much.

Patrick must’ve seen my expression because he sobered up right quick. “Patsy, I didn’t mean—”

“Hel-lo! Hostage of a demon here.”

“What’s the bargain?” asked Arin again, his voice edged with desperation. “What will you take in exchange for the life of Patricia?”

“I must follow the wishes of my mistress,” said Andhaka.

“She is not here,” said Arin slyly. “She won’t know about our deal.”

“I beg to differ.” Durga appeared in the blink of an eye. She looked like a representative of the Lollipop Guild standing next to the huge demon. Yet it was obvious she held all the power. From the position of her hands, I knew she was the one creating the shield that kept the others away.

“Enough of this stalling,” she said. “Andhaka, slit her throat!”

Durga

Translated from the Memoirs of Ruadan

Durga was a high priestess for an ancient cult that used demons in their rituals.

She was in her late forties, considered long-lived nearly four millennia ago. She reminded me of a small, dark bird. She was tiny, her eyes never missing a single detail, her movements concise and graceful. Yet she possessed an awe-some and dark power: calling forth and dispelling demons.

In modern times, Durga’s people were called the Indus Valley Civilization or the Harappan Civilization.

I discovered her in a smoking ruin, wounded and dying. The abilities of the priestesses had been so feared by outsiders, they had been attacked and their temple destroyed.

Durga was the only survivor.

As with Koschei and Lia, I knew that Durga was special. Her unique abilities would be useful to our kind, and so, I offered her immortality and a place on the Council.

The Turning was especially difficult and I feared she might not make it. But survive it she did. I would learn not to underestimate this woman. Anyone who assumed she was weak, did so at their own peril.

She was eager to leave the valley, and asked to continue with me. I was glad of the company, especially since our journey took us through what is now Pakistan and Afghanistan and through, Iran, Iraq, and Israel.

When we reached Saudi Arabia, we took a boat across the channel into the land of the Nubians, in what is known today as the Sudan.