The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (40 page)

“Kylie.” His tender voice made her cringe. “Where’s Grantlund? I’d think he’d be here to protect ye.” He shook his head. She noticed a chunk missing behind his left ear. “It’d be just like him to leave the woman he loves unprotected. It’s not the first time.” His eyes darted to the locket around her neck. “Get that feckin’ thing off her!”

Matty reached for the locket. Kylie yelled through the gag and struggled in the arms of the two holding her. Her arms slipped through their fingers. A beam of light shot from the garnet, blinding Matty and anyone else near enough. The vampyre and the locket screeched simultaneously. The rest not caught in the path of light turned away. Kylie took advantage of the moment and ran.

“Catch her,” Cianán yelled. Three of them flew after her and tackled her to the ground, but couldn’t hold her down. “Trent, help ‘em.”

The one Cianán called Trent flew over in the midst of the third time they’d caught her. “Let her go.” He glided down and landed softly.

Conor looked up at him, eyes wild. “Are ye bloody crazy? She’ll get away.”

“No, she won’t.”

Reluctantly, they climbed off her.

Trent stepped up next to her and held out his hand. “It’s okay, Kylie. I won’t hurt you.”

American. An American vampyre.

She scrambled backwards. He knelt, lowering his head in a bow, and offered his hand again, waiting for her grasp it.

“Kylie, please,” he begged softly. His hand seemed to stretch further than possible. “He’ll hurt you terribly if you don’t listen. Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Kylie stared for a long moment and wasn’t sure why she’d listened to him. Perhaps something to do with the way he spoke to her or the gentleness in his voice. She let him help her up and walk her back to Cianán, who thanked him with a short nod.

Conor grabbed another piece of cloth, closed his eyes, grabbed the locket, and ripped it from her neck. He quickly tossed it away.

Cianán smiled, his fangs breaching his lips. “Well done, Conor. Well done, all of you.” He stepped closer to Kylie. He ran his hand along her neck and she shuddered.

Trent whispered calm words in her ear. His hands settled on her shoulders.

“Let’s go now. They’ll return soon.”

Cianán spread giant bat-like wings and lifted himself into the air. Kylie stared in awe and horror. Matty and another picked up Kylie by her arms. They followed Cianán. She kicked at the air. Trent fell in directly behind them.

“It’s okay, Kylie,” Trent said and flew around in front of her. “They won’t drop you.”

“Sure do feel like it, though. How ‘bout you Kev?”

“Oh yeah,” Kev replied, and the two assholes dipped her.

She let out a small cry through the gag and shut her eyes, swallowing her heart after it’d jumped into her throat. Trent yelled at them. The gesture made her smile inside. Maybe he’d help her escape later.

Kylie couldn’t count the number of vampyres on the ground before they took flight, but there were a lot—a small battalion. That couldn’t possibly be good if Cearbhall only had three, plus he and Grant.

Grant, help me, please
, she screamed inside her head. Kylie waited for an answer, for him to tell her he was right behind her, that he would save her from these monsters.

But none ever came.

Should have fucking changed me.

Grant abruptly pulled away from his donor in the darkness of the vampyre club and bounded from his seat, blood dribbling down his chin.

“What is it?”

Had it not been for his heightened sense of hearing, he wouldn’t have heard Cearbhall’s voice over the music.

 
“Something’s wrong.”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” Cearbhall stood and scanned the area quickly.

“We have to go . . . now.” He turned and walked toward the door, not waiting for his friend and brother.

Cearbhall caught up with him outside. “Grantlund?”

“Kylie. Something’s happened to her.”

“Do ye be certain ‘bout this?”

Grant glared. “Aye, certainty floods my veins. She has my blood in her, and hers is in me. I sense her distress.”

Cearbhall studied him a moment. “Let me tell the others.”

They waited for Cearbhall’s fledglings in the alley where they’d started out. Grant wiped the blood from his chin.

“Did I get it all?” He stuck his chin out for Cearbhall to get a good look.

“You’re quite the messy fellow, aren’tcha?”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked down the alley. “Where are they? We have to go.”

Cearbhall opened his mouth to respond. They walked around the corner. “Right there.”

“What’s going on?” It was Elizabeth, the short redhead, who asked.

“Grant?” Cearbhall gestured to him.

“Kylie’s in trouble. I heard her call for me, but it was faint.”

“Well then, we’d better go,” Daniella said.

Her supportive response surprised Grant, since she was the one who’d touched Kylie earlier. They spread their wings and lifted themselves up into the sky.

As they neared Cearbhall’s home, piles of stones were ever-present. The house and grounds around the home looked as though a war had been fought, and the front lines were on the front lawn.

“Bloody hell,” Daniella said. “The gargoyles, are they all—”

“It looks that way,” Cearbhall said.

“I’m sorry, Cearbhall,” Grant said, and they landed in front of the once grand home.

“It’s okay, my brother. I knew this would happen someday.”

Grant cocked a brow, wondering what the hell he meant. The moon reflected off the locket’s garnet lying in the grass, catching his attention. He ran over and picked it up. He’d hoped she’d still be there.

He was too far away when he’d heard her call, and too late to stop Cianán from taking her.

And too fucking emotional to phase to this damn spot he stood on now.

Grant cradled the necklace in his hand, damning himself for not being able to control his emotions. It always was an issue for him. Hell, it was what got him turned into a vampyre in the first place. “They figured out how to get it off.” He showed it to Cearbhall.

“Was prob’ly that bloody little bastard, Conor,” he said. “That spell ye used only worked on those around at the time. Conor’s not that old, an’ he’s learnin’ the magic.”

Grant looked up from the locket and Cearbhall patted him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go inside. I need to see if Frederick’s still alive.”

“But Kylie . . . I have to find her.”

“We will, Grantlund, but we can’t right now. We’re not prepared to fight him an’ his army—aye, he actually has an army. We don’t even know where he’s taken her.”

“Then I’ll go by myself,” Grant said.

Cearbhall grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Don’t lose your control now. He
will
kill you. Then what good are ye to her?”

“But I—”

“No, Grantlund. We wait.”

Grant finally nodded and followed him inside.

“What a mess,” Kenneth said. “It looks like a tornado hit in here.” He scratched the side of his head, and combed his short blond hair back with his fingers as he looked around. “Damn.”

“No kidding,” Elizabeth agreed. “What do we do now?”

“We wait,” Cearbhall repeated. “Daniella, go upstairs; see if you can find Frederick. We’ll look down here.”

She nodded and ran up the stairs with lightning speed. Moments later, she returned and walked into the library where Cearbhall and Grant were.

“Who do you s’pose this is?” She held up a head that, thankfully, didn’t belong to Cearbhall’s butler.

“Cassandra,” Cearbhall said. “I wonder how it happened.”

“Don’t know, but I found one of your swords lying on the floor up there, so one could guess,” she said with a smile. The smile faded. “I couldn’t find Frederick.”

Cearbhall turned to Grant. “Grantlund?”

Grant spun around, a book he found on the floor next to the ladder in his hands. He felt Kylie’s energy on it.

Cearbhall continued. “Would Kylie have been able to do this?”

Grant shifted his eyes to Daniella, the head she held, and back to Cearbhall. He shrugged. “Don’t know. I s’pose so if she felt her life was in danger. I
did
tell her how to kill us an’ she’s quite skilled with a sword.”

“Why, why would ye do that?” Surprise etched Cearbhall’s face.

“In case she needed to defend herself,” he said, raising his voice. “An’ apparently she needed to. It’s not like absolutely no one in the world knows how to kill us.” He looked Cearbhall in the eye. “Why don’t you tell me how ye knew this was goin’ to happen.”

Cearbhall looked dumbfounded. “I don’t know what—”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Cearbhall,” he growled. “What you said when we got here, it didn’t make sense.”

Cearbhall stood with his mouth agape. “Grantlund—”

“How did you
know
this was going to happen?” Grant’s voice rumbled through the library and into the entryway.

“Well, it looks like I’m too late,” a white-haired man said. He wandered into the room, dropped his bag, and looked at the two of them. “Or perhaps just in the nick of time.”

“Who the hell are you?” Grant glared at the intruder.

Mahlon knew this wasn’t going to be easy, with the amount of emotion surging through the large vampyre. But hell, who could blame the man? His love had been kidnapped.

“Now, Grantlund, I’m here to help you.”

“Help me? How? I just wanted to protect Kylie from Cianán an’
he
” —he pointed to Cearbhall— “let him take her.”

“No, I didn’t,” Cearbhall snapped.

Mahlon calmly tried to interrupt. “Now gentlemen—”

“Aye, you did. You knew this would happen.” Grant growled. “That’s why ye wanted me to go on the hunt with you, isn’t it?”