The Damned (27 page)

Know this: The Cursed Ones have no souls. Neither pity nor prayer can restore their souls unto them. They are truly, hopelessly evil.

Therefore, when it is the time to strike, do not be moved by your own grace and goodness. Mercy is as useless as a teaspoon riddled with holes would be against an incoming sea.

(translated from the Spanish)

S
ALAMANCA
H
EATHER AND
F
ATHER
J
UAN

She remembered her name. She blinked slowly at the memory.
Heather.
She said it out loud, testing it on her tongue. “Heather.” The word barely came out as a tiny puff of air. Another memory stirred. Someone else had called her by this name. When was it?

She shook her head slowly. She couldn’t remember. She looked down and saw her inhaler crushed in her hand, the plastic cracked and flattened as though it had been run over by a truck. She brought it slowly to her lips and tried to inhale.

And panicked.

There was no breath in her lungs.

In fact she wasn’t breathing at all. She gasped, sucking in air. Her lungs seared. Terrified, she recoiled, and her head slammed against the metal bars of her cage. She tried to scream, but it came out as a breathless screech that she couldn’t even recognize.

What happened to me?

She heard someone coming. When she tried to breathe in, she smelled them. The door on the far wall clanked open, and she covered her ears against the sound.

“Heather?” someone asked softly.

“Yes,” she managed to whisper.

Silhouetted in the doorway, a figure wearing a robe hurried forward. He was an older man, and he looked familiar. He carried a goblet of some sort in his hand, and her stomach lurched hungrily at the rich and spicy smell.

He stopped in front of her cell, and she took another tentative sniff and smelled blood.

Blood.

She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else. Only she didn’t want it from the goblet; she wanted it from the source, from him. She wanted to bite
his
throat where she saw the vein pulsing above his priestly collar.

I’m a Cursed One
, she realized with sudden, dizzying horror.
Oh, God, no.
But that could only mean one thing.

Jenn didn’t save me.

L
AS
V
EGAS
T
EAM
S
ALAMANCA
M
INUS
A
NTONIO
; T
AAMIR AND
N
OAH

Jenn kept her head down as they checked into the Desert Blossom. Even though she was heavily disguised in a black wig and sunglasses, she still felt completely exposed.

She tried to force herself to relax. After all, Skye had also put a glamour on her. When Jenn had looked at herself in the bathroom mirror at the airport in Moscow, though, she had still seen herself. She had wanted to ask Skye if that was normal or if there was something wrong.

But the witch had been so distraught that Jenn had decided to leave her alone for a bit. Now she deeply regretted that decision.

“Are you sure I look all right?” she whispered so softly that only Holgar could hear her.

He turned, looked her up and down, and frowned. Jenn grimaced.

“What?”

“That glamour makes your butt look big,” he dead-panned.

She grinned faintly. “I knew I could count on you.”

A few minutes later, after they’d all settled into adjoining rooms, they reconvened in Jenn’s. Pleasant, with whitewashed furniture, art prints of howling coyotes and cacti, and bedspreads in Southwestern colors of brick and turquoise, it was almost homelike.

“How did you know about this hotel?” Eriko asked. “It really is off the beaten path.”

“I came here with my family for my grandfather’s sixtieth birthday,” Jenn said. “He had always wanted to see Vegas, but we needed to keep a low profile.”

“Low profile?” Noah asked.

Jenn realized she hadn’t really told any of the team about her grandparents. “They were radicals in the 1960s,” she said, and everyone stopped to listen. “They’ve been . . . my grandmother has been . . . underground my whole life.”

“‘Underground’ means hiding out from the government,” Skye explained to Taamir and Noah. Then she blushed. Jenn figured it was because after the war started, witches had gone underground too, to hide from the vampires.

“Impressive,” Noah said. “So they were the resistance of their day?”

“They believed they were fighting for a just cause,” Jenn said. She heard the tentativeness in her own voice.

“This is the same grandfather you mentioned back in Russia,” Noah ventured.

Jenn nodded. “There were three guys in suits and shades up at my grandfather’s funeral. One of them, Greg, was wearing a black cross, and he spoke with my grandmother.”

“Were the other two wearing crosses?” Taamir asked.

“I never got close enough to tell,” Jenn confessed. “But that was when Greg told me I had big shoes to fill. And that there were people who were hoping I would fill them.” Her voice was soft; she was feeling shy about her leadership position. It seemed like some strange dream that they had unanimously agreed that she should take over the team. Even Jamie had said so. Now she wondered why. Father Juan had told her she was special. But she didn’t see it. Didn’t understand any of it.

“So the black crosses
were
following you to Moscow,” Taamir said tightly.

“I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t make sense. If they’re so keen on you, why don’t they actually speak to you?” Jamie demanded. He was sitting on her bed with his boots on the spread. Jenn gave him a look that he either ignored or didn’t catch. “See, no matter where we run into them, they just push us out of the way.”

“But we know they know who we are. And they got us back to Madrid from New Orleans,” Holgar argued.

“And boy did that freak out Father Juan,” Skye said. She gazed into her scrying stone, then rested it in her lap.

“Freaked me out too. All of us.” Jamie moved his head, cracking his neck. The loud snaps of his bones startled Jenn.

“I don’t like it. Any of it. You’re all very reckless,” Noah said. “In the Mossad—”

“The Mossad ain’t here, mate,” Jamie snapped, cracking his knuckles. “And we
are.
”

“Except for Antonio,” Skye pointed out.

“Yeah, well,” Jamie said, then muttered something Jenn couldn’t hear.

Silence filled the room. Jamie pulled out a pack of cigarettes and toyed with them. Skye picked up and examined one of the decorative pillows on Jenn’s bed, and made a face at Jamie, gesturing toward his boots.

The boots did not move.

“So. You came to this very hotel with your grandfather,” Skye pressed on.

“Yes,” Jenn said.

It had been a happy trip. Her grandparents, her parents, Heather.

Heather.

She felt guilty at the thought of her sister. She had been so worried about Antonio that she had nearly forgotten about her. Jenn hoped that Heather was all right and that Father Juan was helping her adjust to her new life—while still being Heather. In her heart, though, she didn’t believe there was much hope, especially without Antonio there to guide Heather through the bloodlust. She shivered.

Jenn closed the blinds, then dumped her bag on the bed, forcing herself to concentrate on the present situation. Because of the airline regulations they’d had to leave their weapons behind, and that had made all of them unhappy.

Eriko flopped down onto one of the beds with a bone-weary groan.

“You okay?” Jenn asked.

Ever since they had found Eriko half dead, the Hunter hadn’t seemed right. She had super healing abilities, but instead of getting better it seemed almost like Eriko was getting worse.

Maybe she’s just getting worse at hiding her condition. Maybe it’s always been bad.

Skye studied her scrying stone again. She was still really shaken by the encounter with Estefan in Russia. Jenn had been waiting until she calmed down to ask her more about it, about him, but she was starting to worry that Skye wasn’t going to calm down.

We’re falling apart. We’re spent. And now, now we have to rescue Antonio. Aurora’s Palace. I can’t believe her nerve! How are we going to get In there to find him, let alone rescue him?

She remembered walking through the original hotel as a child. It was enormous, and the shopping area alone was a marvel, with a ceiling that mirrored the sky and changed to reflect the time of day. What was it like now? Perpetual darkness?

There was only one way to find out. They had to get inside.

But not until they all got some rest. “Let’s get some sleep,” Jenn said. “We’re going to need it.”

“Best plan you’ve had yet,” Jamie said, dragging himself off her bed and toward the adjoining room.

Holgar, Taamir, and Noah followed him through the open door, and she saw Jamie fall onto a bed. Holgar curled up on the floor, like his wild cousins. Taamir took the other bed, and Noah sat down on the rollaway cot. Noah glanced her way, locked her gaze, and held it. She didn’t look away.

Help me find him
, she thought.
Please.

Skye started to get up from the bed and move to their cot, but Jenn stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be up for a while,” she said. “You take the bed.”

Skye nodded sleepily and lay down, eyes drooping.

And for just a moment there was absolute silence. It was beautiful. But then the noise from outside began to intrude. Jenn heard people walking by the room, and she tensed, relaxing only when they were out of earshot.

Eriko began to snore, and from the next room she could hear Holgar and Jamie doing the same. She wondered if Taamir was praying to Allah. She knew Muslims said prayers at special times. All the things that had divided humanity—religious beliefs, land disputes—seemed so abstract and ridiculous now. She would have thought that in the face of such a terrible enemy as vampires, everyone would unite. That the threat of annihilation by the Cursed Ones would do what other threats—like nuclear holocaust—hadn’t done: make the human race
one.
But it hadn’t happened.

Let it happen to us
, she thought.
Make us a team. We need to work together.

There was nothing they could do until everyone had gotten a few hours’ rest. She looked at Skye. The witch was still awake.

“Do you sense something?” Jenn asked quietly.

“I—I—no.” Skye turned and looked at Jenn, eyes vacant. “But I’ll try harder.” She took a deep breath. “I think everyone’s trying a little harder, you know? Jamie’s not picked one fight. He’s barely even criticized you.” She smiled sadly. “Can’t keep his bloody boots off the furniture, though.”

Jenn smiled back at Skye. “At least he hasn’t set off the smoke alarm.” She changed the subject. “What do you think of the new guys?”

“Taamir’s sweet. Gives off a lovely vibe. Noah. Well.” She cleared her throat. “You know he’s quite keen on you, right?”

Jenn nodded.

“And he’s not a Cursed One, so that’s a plus.” Then she leaned over and squeezed Jenn’s hand. “I hope you don’t think I’m cold-hearted, talking about it while Antonio’s still missing.”

“We’re good,” Jenn promised her. “You should get some rest. All the glamours you’re creating, plus the scrying . . . you’re going to burn yourself out.”

Skye nodded and lay back down, shutting her eyes. A minute later the witch’s breathing changed as she, too, slept.

Jenn stood up and crossed by the open connecting door. The guys were all asleep as well. Noah’s back was to her. His hair was very dark against his white pillow.

She took a hot shower, savoring the alone time. They needed to do some reconnaissance. Aurora had seen both her and Skye before, but not the others. At least to the best of Jenn’s knowledge. So, should she send in two of the others, or should she and Skye work on their disguises and they all go in as a team?

We’re going to look like a mob
, she thought. Seven people in a hotel casino not gambling were going to look a little suspicious.

Jenn dried off and changed into the clothes she’d bought before leaving Moscow. Then she curled up in a chair at the table by the front door. A stack of magazines extolling the virtues of the many entertainments in Vegas was scattered on the surface of the table, which made her smile. Cursed Ones were in control, but some things would never change.

She flipped through a magazine, staring at the ads for Las Vegas shops and restaurants, hoping to relax her brain enough so that she’d have a shot at getting some sleep too. It was daylight, so she didn’t think they needed to worry about setting up a watch just yet. All they had to fear were vampires’ human minions. Antonio was the only vampire she’d known who was willing to risk the daylight.

Her throat tightened at the thought of him. Anxiety filled her, and then she let the moment pass.

As she turned the glossy pages, she let her mind drift. She thought about Antonio, Heather, her life before the vampires. She smiled at the sound of the snoring from the other room and tried to decide which guy was louder. Even in their sleep it was like they were trying to outdo each other.

She closed the magazine, not much closer to sleep, and pulled out the one underneath it. She idly opened it, then stared at an ad, realizing she had just found the answer to their immediate problem.

She got her backpack and fished out the credit card Father Juan had given her for emergencies. Then she picked up the room phone and dialed the number on the ad. When a man answered on the other end, she said, “Hi, I’d like to reserve seven seats for tonight’s nine p.m. show of
The Magick of Myth
at Aurora’s Palace.”