Prince of Power (17 page)

“Careful with him.”

“I'm trying.”

Anton grunted and repositioned Xander's body. Turned out two-hundred-plus pounds of vampire deadweight slumped against one's shoulder was a lot of fucking vampire deadweight. He did his best to let his new, tentative, unlikely almost-friend to the ground gently, but it was a little like dropping a car to the ground gently—there wasn't much choice.

Especially not when enemies and projectiles were coming through the trees. One of them whizzed uncomfortably close to Anton's ear. As Anton dropped the lifeless body, his fingers met the solid comfort of a gun holster. He managed to pull the thing free and fire back in the direction of the oncoming offensive.

“You're sure you know how to use that?'

He shot Tyra a look. Embarrassingly, she was right about Anton's lack of weapons training. He didn't know his way around a gun the way she did. They'd gone over this before. But he could hold his own. Loading and unloading a weapon wasn't his strong suit, but he could point and fire, dammit. So he did. And was rewarded with a muttered curse and a thump. One of their assailants was down.

Too bad there wasn't just one.

Gratified by the groan and quiet whoosh of air from Xander's lungs when Anton crouched to roll his body against a log as best he could, Anton grabbed Tyra, plastered both their backs against the largest tree trunk he could find, and listened.

“So you've forgiven me already,” he whispered.

Tree bark crackled behind her head when she shook it. “We have bigger problems right now.”

To the clearing in front of him, he projected, “All right, guys, we're waiting.”

Three wizards stepped into view. He didn't recall their names, but he knew them. Of course he knew them.

“Gone to the dark side, Anton?” a skinny one with pasty skin and a hook nose sneered. One of his father's lapdogs. Not that most of them weren't. Few of the wizards seemed to be freethinkers in any respect, which was of course what the Master wanted, but some… some really aimed only to please Anton's father in a particularly disturbing way.

Anton laughed. His side burned. Either something had hit him, or his earlier wound had torn back open. He cocked Xander's gun again. How many times had he fired? How many rounds did the clip have? This was where better weapons knowledge would come in handy. “Hardly the dark side.”
Uh… whatever your name is.

The taller wizard next to Hook Nose crossed his arms over his chest. “The vampires are our enemies.”

Anton wanted very much right then to step in front of Tyra and block her from their view. Not that he'd try; she'd kick his ass for that. But these guys were too sleazy and filthy to look at her and think the things they were probably thinking.

Hook Nose pointed to Tyra. “This one's really hot. This why you defected, Anton? Taking a walk on the wild side?”

Definitely
too sleazy and filthy to be looking at her.

Tyra harrumphed quietly beside Anton. It was the only warning Hook Nose got before she set him on fire and then turned invisible. She must have rushed him. There was some grappling; Hook Nose was strong. From the sounds of things, Tyra was struggling but she had him on the ground, and with his robes on fire, it was probably only a matter of time.

And there was another wizard to be dealt with.

Despite the winter chill and the thirty-degree weather, Anton's body got hot. His power. He didn't understand how to wield it, but there was no time like the present to try. He smiled flatly at the other wizard. “You know, you all stood by and watched while my own father nearly killed me. So that makes
you
my enemy.”

He turned to fire on the third wizard, who had been silent but creeping toward Anton and Tyra from the periphery, dropping that one first. “Thought I wasn't watching, didn't you, asshole?”

“Nice one,” Tyra called, visible now from her position a few feet away. One steel-toed boot kicked at Hook Nose without mercy. The power practically rolled off her in waves.

Anton had to admit a sense of pride that welled up at her approval, but he had to tamp it down. Anger seemed to help the power get stronger. He tried to shoot the gun again, but it jammed or something and he didn't stop to discern the reason before dropping the weapon into his jacket pocket and running for the tall, skinny guy.

Anton did have a decent level of hand-to-hand training, and said hands were glowing an eerie orange. He and his brother had sparred together quite a bit, though really Anton had never been sure if his brother wasn't actually trying to kill him that whole time.

“Holy shit.” Tall Man, the weasely little shit, started running when Anton's glowing hand came after him.

“Yeah, you better run.” Anton's arms and legs were longer. He had the guy's ankle without even having to stretch far. His anger and loss all channeled into the glowing hand. The glow flowed from Anton's body into the wizard's, and the wizard screamed. Writhed. It was awful enough that for a moment Anton wanted very much to let go.

He held firm.

This guy would kill him if given the chance. Kill Tyra. And if he let the wizard go, he would run screaming back to Anton's father to rat him out in no time. This was kill or be killed, just like it had been growing up. If anything, the reason was far more just.

The veins on the enemy male's head stood out in relief. A slow, dull throb echoed inside Anton's head. The
glub, glub, glub
sounded slower and slower. The wizard's eyes bugged out, screaming disbelief. For a moment there was recognition there, scrabbling and clawing on the wizard's side and grim determination on Anton's, when they both knew that the young wizard was about to die.

Anton's gut churned, and it was all he could do to hold down the bile when the kicking stopped and the glow dissipated. And there was no time to think about what he had just done, because Xander still lay tucked against a tree trunk, seriously injured if not dead.

“Anton, are you okay?”

Everything swam in front of Anton's face for a moment, but he forced himself to his feet. He could manage this. He'd managed eating those vampire hearts. Somehow, he lived with himself after doing those hideous things. Living with himself after killing an enemy should have been no contest. Why was it just as horrifying? But he wouldn't be weak in front of her.

He managed a nod.

“It's not me that I'm worried about.” Shaky and confused, he knelt by Xander's crumpled form. Sticky, damp blood matted the vampire's hair. The breath and heartbeat were weak. Anton worked to calm his body and his mind. Prayed he could listen for attack with one ear while he worked to heal the vampire. Prayed there was enough energy left in his body to heal Xander after using his other power to kill that wizard. Just… prayed.

For someone who didn't believe in God, he'd certainly been doing a lot of that lately.

Something else was wrong, and while Anton focused on bringing the tawny glow of his healing power to the forefront, it remained out of reach in his consciousness. But with Xander's head cradled in his hand, he glanced at the sky and the answer became clear: dawn would be coming soon.

***

For the first time since this whole mess between her and Anton had started, Tyra saw a problem she knew how to solve. Her shoulder rubbed against Anton's when she knelt in the dirt at Xander's head. “It would be good if we could get him away from this log and flat against the ground instead. Then I'm going to put my hands underneath yours, okay?”

Anton moved and together they shifted the unconscious male's body onto his back. It was clear to Tyra that he handled Xander with care. Thoughtfully. “Okay.”

She guided Anton's hands and covered them with her own. There was an oozing wound but Xander was breathing evenly. “Well, I'm not a doctor but it looks to me like the damage is mostly only to his neck and scalp. We can hope, anyway.” She shook her head. “Poor guy, first time out in the field after his mate dies, too.”

A familiar cold slush washed through Tyra. Anton's sadness. Pain. Okay, this wouldn't do at all.
Think, Ty.
She needed him to be able to flex his power. She needed to get him a little angry.

“So obviously you've figured out how I absorb powers,” she said quietly.

“I have.” His chest moved in and out. “Had a nice talk with Siddoh. Friendly guy. You've gotten one from each of your lovers, seems like.” He didn't look at her but stayed focused on Xander. Already though, energy was starting to build in his hands and pass to hers.

“Uh-huh.” Now, she just needed to get off the jealousy button before she mashed it to death. “Now. Take a deep breath for me.”

He did.

“Feel how your hands kind of pulse, and tingle? Mine are.”

“Huh. Yeah.”

“Right. Good. Breathe into it. Like bellows on a banked fire or something, right? I know we're new at it, but I figure we've both got this healing power so we ought to be able to work together to magnify it.”

His stubble scratched against her cheek when he moved. It was comforting on a very basic level to be close to him. Amazingly, surprisingly, disturbingly so.

So they breathed together in the early morning dark, and an awe filled her when energetic vibrations passed back and forth between their fingers and into Xander, growing in intensity like nothing she'd felt before. The pulse got stronger. Their hands glowed, the light concentrating around the wound in the back of Xander's head.

“That's amazing,” Anton murmured.

“Yeah.” It was. She could admit to herself that whatever supernatural power jolt she'd gotten from Anton's father, there had been temptation there.
Now
she could admit it, because this power exchange with Anton was far more gratifying.

Darkness lingered, but morning wasn't too far off. There were sounds in the distance of people starting their day. A loud truck rumbled past on what was probably nearby Route 9 and Anton jerked. For a moment, the heat in their hands faded.

“I'm listening. You just focus on our hands.” Anton might not be used to keeping an ear out for trouble in the woods, but this she could do. It was funny, actually, how usually she had to be so careful not to drain her energy while using her abilities. But right now, breathing through this healing thing with Anton? It might have been almost relaxing if Xander's well-being hadn't been on the line.

Anton shifted closer. “Got it.”

Xander groaned on the hard ground beneath them. “Good. This is good. Let's keep going, though, if you feel up to it.” Their fingers were laced together; she wasn't sure which of them had done it or when it had happened.

They focused for a minute more, until Xander struggled and tried to sit. Anton helped prop Xander against the fallen tree but held a hand to his shoulder to prevent him from standing. “Hang on there, big guy.”

Tyra nodded her agreement. “You got whacked pretty good back there.” She grabbed Xander's arm when he went to touch the back of his head. “I wouldn't go poking at it. How do you feel?”

Xander grunted. “Like ass. What about you? Everything okay with you two after meeting the in-laws?”

That was a good question. There was so much to discuss, and there wasn't time now. She gripped Anton's shoulder. “When he came to the shelter, your father threatened to destroy the place and everyone in it unless I came with him. And then he just let me go without any argument at all. He said I'd come back willingly on my own. Doesn't that sound weird to you? I just realized, I don't know what happened down there after I left.”

Anton licked his lips. His breath puffed white in the predawn cold. Had he managed to forget about that? “That sounds extremely weird to me.”

Panic set in. “He specifically mentioned that little girl. Selena. He said she was ‘one of his.' What if he does something to hurt her?”

He put a hand on her arm. “Call. It can't hurt to check in.”

The phone in the shelter's main office almost rang through to voice mail. She sagged with relief when she heard Beverly's voice pick up on the other end. “Ash Falls Inter—aith.” Lord, there was a crazy amount of static on the line.

“Bev?” She put a finger in her ear but it didn't help much. “It's Tyra. Just checking in. Everything okay down there?”

“Ty—a? My God, some kinda
kkkttt
kkkttt
going on down here. Bunch of
kkkttt
impers—ing cops and busting down doors—”

“Beverly! Shit.” The line had gone dead. Tyra met Anton's questioning stare. “I could hardly understand anything, but something's wrong down there.”

“Tyra.” Xander held up a hand. “I can walk. It's not that far back to the estate grounds. You guys go check it out.”

“Mmm-mm.” She grabbed Anton's shoulders. “Stay with Xander. It looks to me like we've only got an hour or so before daylight, and he shouldn't be left alone in his condition.” She planted a quick, firm kiss on Anton's lips. “I'll call for backup immediately if there's a problem. I promise.”

“Tyra, wait.”

Anton threw a hand out, but she wrapped her arms around herself and disappeared, reforming moments later in her darkened office. She needed to check on Selena. The sounds of chaos and the inky black evil presence immediately told her what she needed to know, and they were
not
good things.

She'd fed recently. Minor bullet wound aside, her powers were well charged. Still, from the sounds of things, she was going to need help. And it stung to call for backup, given the ludicrous girly-girl way she'd run off back in the woods. But sometimes you had to suck it up.

But she blasted the team with a text instead of calling.

Then she took a deep breath, faded to invisible, and stepped carefully out the office door. “Oh, hell,” she muttered to herself.