Duet in Blood (31 page)

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Authors: J. P. Bowie

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BOOK: Duet in Blood
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“What now?” he asked, his voice tense and wary.

“He knows you are here,” Charlotte replied, smiling a little. “He is on his way to meet you.”

“We want witnesses,” I said. “The more, the merrier, as they say.”

“You shall have them.”

“Darius will allow that?” Marcus sounded even more wary.

“He has no choice. I have alerted the populace to what is about to happen. See?

Everyone is gathering around you.”

Marcus and I exchanged glances. He didn’t like this anymore than I did. Had Charlotte led us into a trap? I looked around at the dozens of black shrouded figures who stood silently watching us. The malignant power they exuded was meant to intimidate and terrify their prey, and I had to exert a great deal of control to block it. Beside me, Marcus looked grimly at Charlotte.

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“Are we now in danger from you?” he asked her

“Tsk, Marcus. Did I not give you my word?”

“No…you did not,” he said dryly. “But I trust you.”

She laughed softly. “Liar…” She pointed at Darius as he approached, his handsome face like thunder. “Darius,” she exclaimed, “you are accused, for the second time, of dallying with a mortal for the sole purpose of taking him as your soul-bonded lover. This, as you know, is against the laws of the Dark Forces. Mortals are not to be used for anything other than sustenance. In addition, you have broken the code of honour in violating the rights of a fellow vampire.”

Darius sneered at us. “Fellow vampire? He is no fellow vampire of mine. He belongs to the other side. He has no rights here. Kill him, and be done with this...this charade.”

“Not so fast, Darius.” One of the black shrouded figures stepped forward, removing the hood that had hidden his face until then. He was an older vampire, changed in his middle years, yet handsome still, his face composed but stern.

“We overlooked your last transgression but cannot condone this second flagrant

attempt to disregard the very laws you and I imposed all those years ago.”

“Bah!” Darius waved his hand in disgust. “Those laws apply only to us, Domenic, not to outsiders.”

“All mortals are outsiders, Darius,” Domenic said. “I read in Joseph’s thoughts how you abducted and seduced his lover then tried to change him against his will. He wishes to challenge you to mortal combat. I say, let him have his way.”

“As you say,” Darius snarled. “And when I have killed him and Marcus both, I will have you and Charlotte condemned to death for treason. I am your leader,” he screamed, ripping off his cloak. “And I will be obeyed!”

“You have lost all reason,” Domenic said calmly. “The Fates will decide your

punishment.”

The crowd pulled back from us. Darius conjured up two swords, and threw one to me. I smiled as I studied it, then tossed it to the ground. It broke into tiny fragments. Never trust the Dark Forces—especially Darius! I threw aside my coat and pulled my favourite gladius from its scabbard. I had trained for years with the short stabbing sword favoured by the Roman armies, and it had served me well. I prayed it would not let me down today.

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Darius and I faced off, circling one another, gauging each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Just as when I had faced Angelo, I knew I could not trust Darius to fight fairly.

He would no doubt use the magic he had learned from the wizards, but he would have to be subtle. A flagrant use of unfair tactics might just upset his followers who, it seemed, were already out of love with him.

With a shout, Darius lunged at me. I parried the blow easily and pushed him back, off balance. He staggered back a few steps, his face suffused with rage. It was then I expected a lightning bolt or fireball to erupt from his hands, but no, he kept his temper under control, merely slashing at me as I pressed my advantage. His parry missed my blade and I thrust home, piercing his arm. He hissed at me, fangs bared, anger streaming from his eyes.

I felt my sword arm weaken. Damn him. He was using his magic in unseen ways. It

would look to the others as though I was being overpowered by his superior strength. I transferred my sword to my left hand, keeping the coward at bay by jabbing at his chest.

Marcus, he’s using magic to drain my strength. The power in my right arm is gone.

But not in your legs, Joseph.

Right. As Darius closed in, I delivered a powerful kick to his right knee. He howled with pain then louder as I kicked him in the chest. He went down, sprawling on his back, his sword skittering out of reach. The excited murmur that went up from the crowd around us changed to a groan of dismay as Darius, obviously using magic, sprang to his feet, a new sword in his right hand and a dagger in his left.

“Think you can best me, Joseph?” he sneered.

My sword fell from my grasp, the power gone now from both my arms. He leaped

forward, his sword arm raised ready to take off my head, when the command “Stop!” rang out.

Domenic walked towards us, his face grim with anger. “Darius, you have disgraced yourself with your use of the wizard’s magic. There was a time when warriors faced one another armed only with their weapons and valour. Joseph has shown us he is a true warrior.

The Dark Forces needs a leader who has courage and strength. You have shown us only treachery and cowardice. You are not worthy to lead us—”

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“Silence!” Darius’ sword slashed down, biting deep into Domenic’s shoulder. The older vampire staggered back, shock and pain etched on his face. “You would defy me?” Darius screeched. “Any of you? Who else dares question my authority?”

“I do.” Charlotte stepped forward. “Not only do I question it, Darius, I demand that you relinquish your right to lead us. Wishing to take a mortal as your lover only shows your weakness in judgment. And as your cowardice has just now demonstrated, you are no longer fit to call yourself our leader. Surrender yourself to our will.”

With an angry growl, Darius turned on her, sword raised to strike. Charlotte gave no ground, but as the sword swung down towards her neck, it suddenly evaporated into thin air. Darius gasped with surprise, his face registering the shock of being outsmarted.

“You see, Darius,” Charlotte said quietly. “You are not the only one schooled in magic by the Wizard Brotherhood.”

She picked up my sword and handed it to me. Blood coursed through my arms with a prickling sensation as my strength returned. She handed Darius his sword that had magically appeared in her hand. She was right. She was well schooled in the wizard’s magic.

“Now the odds are once more evened,” she said, her eyes filled with triumph as she saw the obvious anger on her ex-lover’s face. “Fight on!”

Again, Darius and I faced one another, but this time he seemed less sure, less

aggressive. His movements were slower, his defence weak as I attacked him, the blade of my sword cutting dangerously close to his chest. He fell back, his expression one of fear. What is happening to him? I wondered, drawing back from delivering the deathblow.

Of course, I should have known he would use every cowardly ploy he could. Seeing me hesitate he sprang forward, his weapon slicing the air, a mere fraction from my head. I parried his strike with my sword, pushing his own blade against his throat until the blood flowed and he gasped with pain. This time I did not draw back. Instead, using my legs as leverage I pressed forward, the sharp edge of my blade cutting deep into his flesh. With a hoarse cry, he fell to his knees, his arms raised in supplication.

“Don’t trust him.” Behind me, I heard Marcus’ warning.

Keeping Darius at sword point, I glanced at Charlotte. “What is your will?” I asked her.

“Death,” she said.

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“Death!” Another in the crowd repeated the command, then another, and another until the air reverberated with the sentence passed upon Darius. I fully expected him to use his powers to vanish from our midst, and so apparently did he—but there he remained at my feet, his face once more registering surprise and outrage as he struggled in vain to regain his power.

“Kill him,” Charlotte murmured, her beautiful face cold and unforgiving.

I looked down at Darius and felt a surge of pity.
How quickly the mighty can be laid low
, I thought, staring at his handsome face, now creased with a mixture of fear and hatred.

Hatred, of course, for me and for all those who would as soon see him die. And fear that at any moment, his life and all his ambitions would end. I stepped back and raised my sword.

He closed his eyes, waiting for me to deliver the blow that would sever his head from his body.

After a moment’s hesitation, I lowered my sword. “Perhaps it is best that your blood be spilled by your own people,” I said, sheathing my gladius.

His eyes flew open, wide with fear. “No,” he whispered. “Kill me now.”

I turned from him to Charlotte. “He is yours to deal with as you see fit.”

“Take him,” Charlotte murmured to the vampires around us, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “And if you were wondering what happened to your powers Darius, they were permanently curtailed—by me.”

“You bitch,” he snarled, all vestiges of his dignity lost in the realisation that the woman he had once spurned and humiliated had vanquished him.

“As you said, hell hath no fury,” Marcus whispered in my ear.

Charlotte turned to us. “Leave us now while we carry out the sentence of death. It is not for you to see.”

“A pity,” I said, picking up my coat.

 

“After what he did to Micah, I would have liked to have seen him draw his last breath.”

She smiled, showing her fangs. “You had your opportunity and relinquished it to us.”

Her eyes were cold with cruel satisfaction. “It will not be pleasant, I can assure you. Go now, and do not ask us again to intervene on your behalf.”

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Marcus nodded and, taking my arm, steered me towards the exit. As we hurried away, the sounds of Darius screaming his defiance rang in our ears. Marcus muttered, “As Roger would say, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I ask them for anything, ever again.”

 

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Chapter Seventeen

Micah

 

It was two in the morning, and I was wide-awake. With all that had happened earlier, and with Joseph’s assurance he’d be back soon, there was no way I could sleep. I’d had to take a rain check on Rhonda’s offer to go with him to Chester’s. No way could I sit watching a drag cabaret when Joseph might be knocking on my door without me there to welcome him home. I began to wonder if what he’d said he had to take care of before he left had taken him more time than he originally thought it would.

A tapping on the door sent me flying to fling it open. It was Rhonda…in full drag.

“Well shit, honey,” he said, hands on hips, taking in my disappointed expression.

“Don’t look so damned pleased to see me.”

“Sorry, come on in. I thought it might be Joseph.”

“He not here yet?” He pursed his bright red lips. “How like a man…”

Rhonda was a sight to behold. Close to seven feet tall in those heels, with a purple sequined gown clinging to his massive frame, a platinum wig complete with bangs and a flip, he looked like an even bigger version of Queen Latifah.

“You look great,” I said. “How was the show?”

“I was fabulous, but the rest o’ those bitches shoulda stayed home. One of these days, I have to find me a classier club to work out of.”

“Mind if I come in?”

The sound of Joseph’s husky voice behind us made me whirl round, then with a

strangled cry of joy, I bounded across the living room and jumped into his arms. His hands on my butt supported me as I covered his smiling face with kisses.

“Oh my God,” I panted. “Oh, thank God you’re back.”

“And I thank the gods you are safe,” he said, kissing me back.

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“Excuse me!” Rhonda’s big voice jolted me from my euphoria. “I may have just become the invisible woman as far as y’all are concerned, but I really am not into watchin’ guys make out—although with you two, I might be persuaded.”

I laughed. “You invisible in that get-up? I don’t think so.”

Joseph let me slip from his embrace and walked over to where Rhonda stood in all his regal majesty. “Rhonda,” he said, holding out his hand. “I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for looking after Micah. You are a wonderful friend.”

“Well, hell, honey…that’s all I get—a handshake? How ‘bout a big hug? Just don’t go bitin’ me!” I couldn’t control my laughter at the sight of Joseph, who is not a small man, being totally enveloped in Rhonda’s massive, purple-sequined arms.

“Oooh, I love a man with muscles!” Rhonda squealed, looking over Joseph’s head at me. “Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted. Y’all have a ball—or two!” With that, he sashayed through the door, leaving Joseph and I gazing at one another through the eyes of love.

“Joseph,” I murmured, reaching for him. “Can you ever forgive me for being such an idiot?”

Before he could reply with what I hoped would be, “Of course, my love,” there came another knocking at the door.

“Oh, for…” I muttered. “Doesn’t anyone know what time it is?” I flung open the door again, and there they all were—Ron, Jean-Claude, Marcus and Roger, all with big smiles on their faces.

“I hope we’re not intruding.” Marcus, always the gentleman, gave me an apologetic smile.

“Of course you are,” Joseph said, chuckling.

Roger beamed at me. “We brought wine to celebrate!”

A much as I wanted to be there alone with the man I loved, I couldn’t help but feel a warm fuzzy glow as Ron and our vampire friends gathered around so obviously overjoyed to see Joseph and I reunited.

“Marcus says you really gave that Darius creep a run for his money,” Roger said, his eyes shining. “I wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

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