Magicstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 4) (15 page)

A shiver raced through her blood, stopped
only by the thumping of Brandon’s heartbeat beneath her cheek,
pressed against his back.

He knew how to fight magic.

As Brandon pulled into the overfilled parking
lot of Black Dawn, she sighed. She would do whatever it took to
save her sister.

Brandon shut off the bike and waited for
Celeste to get off. His heart twitched when, for a long moment, she
only squeezed him tighter. She sighed against his back, then let
him go and stood up.

He studied her face, drawn and pale from
fear. Every instinct shouted at him to take her in his arms and
comfort her, make the pain melt away. But the only way to truly do
that was to save her sister.

He knew all too well the agony of knowing one
of your own had been taken and could be going through hell. His
brother had survived, if becoming a thin shell of the man he used
to be could be considered survival.

Brandon made a swift, silent promise to
himself, and the woman standing beside him. She’d put her
hard-given trust in him. He would save her sister before it was too
late, as he’d been with his brother.

She stared at him with such hope that he
could do no less.

Clearing the emotional lump from his throat,
he glanced around the full parking lot. Using Celeste’s phone, he
called Shane and filled the man in.

Shane’s voice was broken by static. “I found
a place. It’s marked... runes. Only way we’ll know... sure...
search the entire area.”

Grunting, Brandon hung up, then delivered the
bad news. “Your sister might be here, but there’s no
certainty.”

Her lips trembled, then thinned as her
shoulders and back stiffened. “Time to go in, then.”

Pride filled him at her inner strength.

They were about to enter a den of monsters.
There was no telling if the sorcerer would be there, or if he’d
have any of his pets.

Brandon’s stomach clenched at the memory of
the half-banshee and her wolves.

As they approached the door, a line of people
waited behind a rope stretched down the side of the building, eager
to get in.

Brandon took her arm and whispered, “There
are runes over the door. They weren’t here last time.”

Though the vamp hadn’t seemed stupid or weak
enough to fall into a sorcerer’s trap, there were always sneaky
ways to ensnare anyone.

They reached the doorway, where a different
bouncer was checking IDs and letting people in.

Celeste flashed her badge. “I have more
questions for Sebastian.”

The guy only grunted and waved them
through.

As soon as they entered, the heaviness of the
dark magic filling the air slammed into him. He stumbled, nearly
falling to his knees. He grabbed for Celeste, to drag her back
outside, but she slipped through his fingers and strode down the
hallway.

Damned if he was going to leave her alone. He
pushed through a crowd, racing into the club.

Celeste reached the main room. Music thrummed
against her. The crowd ebbed and flowed, people pushing their way
to get somewhere. She slid along the wall, trying to stay out of
the traffic. Brandon was no longer at her side.

As she turned to head back to the door, the
glimpse of a tall, dark-haired woman being carried into one of the
rooms on the upper floor made her freeze. Shana.

Without thought, she shoved through the crowd
and reached the stairway.

A hand grabbed her elbow, jerking her back.
She spun, snarling.

Brandon pushed her against the wall. “The
magic is bad.”

“My sister is here.” She couldn’t think of
anything but reaching Shana and getting her out of this place.

“I need to call Shane.”

“Then do it.” She jerked from his grasp and
headed up the stairs.

He followed with a curse in a language she
couldn’t name, much less understand.

A voice whispered that she was being stupid.
They needed to call in back up. Get help wherever they could. But
the sound of screaming, full of pain, overshadowed all rationality.
She raced upwards, taking the stairs two at a time.

She reached the room they’d carried Shana
into, twisted open the knob and rushed inside.

It was empty.

She turned to say something to Brandon, but a
bright, white light blinded her. Then everything went dark.

Celeste woke in a dim room. Candlelight shone
from the far wall, illuminating metal instruments she’d only seen
in horror flicks. Her head pounded. Her mouth was dry. As she sat
up, chains rattled. She followed the metal attached to the handcuff
around her wrist to another cuff, this one on a large, male
arm.

Blinking, she focused on Brandon.

He lay still. Pale. Blood oozed from a deep
gash along the side of his forehead.

Panic struck.

She scrambled to her knees, barely hearing
his low moan as the chain jerked his arm around. The room was
empty, but from the ceiling above, muted bass beats drifted into
the room.

They had to still be in the night-club, but
surely someone would have noticed her and Brandon being carried
across the dance floor full of regular people.

Wouldn’t they?

Bending over Brandon, she found his pulse.
Weak, but consistent.

A hysterical thought came to her. Exactly how
did one kill a vampire in real life?

While the head wound she was inspecting would
most likely have killed a mortal, he was still alive. Did vampires
get concussions?

She leaned back on her heels, glancing around
the room for something to remove the cuffs. She wasn’t going
anywhere with Brandon’s dead weight attached to her arm.

Everything on the opposite wall that might
help was too far away. The light barely penetrated the corner
they’d been dropped in. She stretched as far as she could, feeling
the floor, trying to find something. Anything.

Brandon and Shana both needed her to keep a
clear head.

The chain rattled and she was jerked back,
her shoulder screaming from the pain. She slammed into the hard
floor and stared up at the wild vampire hovering above her.

“Brandon?” she whispered, staring into his
blood-red eyes, the sharp, glistening fangs descending from a
predator’s snarl.

He snapped his teeth, yanking on the chain
binding them together once more.

Chapter
sixteen

Louder this time, Celeste called, “Brandon!
Snap out of it.”

He hissed at her, his gaze zeroing in on the
pulse at her neck.

She scrambled backwards, not getting very far
as his free hand clamped painfully on her shoulder. “Oh no you
don’t. I’m not dinner.”

Her heartbeat pounded loud enough to drown
out the music from above. She shuddered beneath his feral gaze as
his fingers dug into her shoulder.

Time stopped. Thought halted. Instinct took
over.

She punched him while at the same time, she
shoved her knee into his groin.

He howled, tumbling to the ground beside
her.

After taking a deep breath, she sat up again,
easing as far from him as she could manage.

When he shook his wrist, she tensed, ready to
be jerked back.

Instead, he raised his head, staring at her
with confusion shining from eyes slowly bleeding back to blue.

Then he glared at her. “What the hell?”

“The hell is right.” She sat straighter, now
that he was back. “You just tried to eat me.”

He blinked, struggling to sit up, then stared
at the handcuff around his wrist. “Fuck.”

“Correct again,” she replied tartly.

He grabbed the cuff with his free hand and
tugged on it, then looked at her, his mouth a grim line.
“Magic.”

“Great. What next?” she mumbled, staring at
her own cuff.

“Torture and dismemberment?” he asked.

She shot him a glare. “At least now that
you’re awake I don’t have to contemplate dragging your sorry
carcass around.”

He rose to his feet, and held out his hand.
She stared at it for a long moment before letting him help her up.
They crossed the room, Brandon letting out a low whistle at the
items on the other side. “Someone certainly enjoys their
sport.”

“Someone? Like Sebastian?”

Brandon grabbed her arm and turned her to
face him. “You saw Lucerne?”

“No. But who else would it be? This is his
club.”

“Something tells me it’s not quite so
simple.”

She shrugged. “We need to get Shana and leave
this freaky place. Later, we can decide who’s behind it.”

Brandon glanced around the room, then said
softly, “I don’t think it’s going to be so easy.”

She followed his gaze, not seeing anything
but another wall. Then it hit her. She turned, searching for a door
that wasn’t there.

Brandon wanted to rail, to bust through the
walls holding them. Anything it took to get Celeste out of here and
somewhere safe.

As he reached out to try to rip at one of the
bricks in the wall, faintness swept through him.

They wouldn’t be going far. He didn’t know if
it was only blood loss, or partly magic, but his strength was
diminished.

That pissed him off even more.

“There’s got to be a door somewhere. Hidden
in the wall, hidden by magic. It doesn’t matter.” She pulled him
along one wall, running her hands over the brick.

Pushing down his boiling fury, he assured
himself they’d find it. There was no other option he’d accept.

He started searching, using his hands to
feel, trying to see past any magic.

They circled the room without finding a damn
thing.

“Can’t you just... break it?” Celeste asked,
her gaze full of hope.

He could have kicked himself as his weakness
flared, leaving him feeling drained and useless. He stomped over to
the corner they’d been left in and slumped against the wall. “You
got any food hidden in your pockets?”

Her eyes widened as she realized his point.
“You need blood, don’t you?”

“A nice roast beef sandwich would help, but
yeah.”

Slowly, she inched toward him, thoughts
flashing over her face. Her back straightened, that damn stick
coming back. Lifting her chin, she stared into his eyes. “I have
blood.”

His mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut.
He hadn’t even considered it, for a couple of reasons. “You don’t
like me biting you.”

“I never said that.” She drew closer,
refusing to look away. “I said don’t ever do it again without my
permission.”

The very thought proved to Brandon he wasn’t
quite as weak as he’d thought. He grew hard, his pulse speeding at
the images racing through his mind.

“You realize how one becomes a vampire,
right?”

She blinked, shook her head.

“Every time you’re bitten, the virus courses
through your blood. A vampire drinks enough of your blood, gets
enough of virus inside you, and you’ll turn.”

She nibbled her lower lip and his gaze was
drawn to the movement. What kind of sick bastard was he that
thoughts of laying her down on the floor, of taking her right now,
damn the life-threatening danger they were in, wouldn’t go
away.

“My sister is here somewhere. We’re trapped.
I don’t see potentially becoming a vampire as worse than death for
all of us.” She leaned against him, trailing one finger up his abs
and chest.

Then she tipped her head back, baring her
throat to his gaze.

Hard and throbbing, he couldn’t look away
from the beating pulse just beneath her tender skin.

“Bite me,” she demanded. “Get us out of
here.”

He should resist. He desperately wanted to
bite her. Confusion swirled as he stared at her face. Confidence,
surety, reflected to him from her chocolate gaze.

And deep down, one thought coalesced. He had
to save her. He couldn’t bear if anything happened to her. He could
get her out, get her safe.

His fangs descended as he leaned closer.

Her scent was like an aphrodisiac, ramping up
not just his lust, but his hunger, to a crazed level.

He licked her velvety skin, then bit down.
Sweet blood filled his mouth and he drank deeply, greedily. He
grabbed her ass, pulling her closer.

She moaned, from pleasure or pain, he wasn’t
sure, as she pressed herself against him.

As he drank, strength flowed into his body.
And in his chest, something softened.

Warmed.

In a flash of clarity, he realized his
feelings for this strong, brave woman were so much more than sexual
desire.

He pulled back, still hungry, but unwilling
to take more. He had enough to do what was needed.

Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes
contrasting from paler-than-normal cheeks. Her lips curled in a
small grin.

“Celeste?” he asked, his voice rough with
emotion.

She opened her eyes. “Wow.”

“Are you all right?”

Blinking, she said, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He stared at the blank walls, trying to
ignore the rampaging emotion inside. And he realized the sounds of
music had cut off some time ago. If that meant the night-club was
now closed, their jailors would be coming.

Soon.

He shook his head to clear the worry. He
didn’t have time for such things. When he opened his eyes, he
scanned the walls. A glimmer appeared in the opposite corner of the
room. There, then gone.

Slowly, he approached it, staring at the
bricks.

Another shimmer of refracted light coming
from nothing.

Brandon reached the corner, held out his
hands. This time, he felt a slight warmth, a tingling, that told
him magic was at play.

Perhaps he’d been more drained than he’d
realized. With Celeste’s blood now coursing through him, the light
grew until just behind it, he could make out a rusted metal
door.