The Spinoza Trilogy (23 page)

She fought like the devil. Or a cornered hellcat.

Still reading my mind, we maneuvered ourselves into the middle of the room, separating these last two guards. My foe closed in on me but when his body connected with my firearm, he recoiled. I shot him almost point blank. AJ had been right; it was a bloody mess, but only for the few seconds it took for him to disappear.

I turned back to Veronica. She had just side-kicked the last remaining guard and he ricocheted up and across the room. He landed on me, knocking me face down to the floor, my deadly rifle under me. He could feel its presence, but he slammed my head to the floor and before I knew it I was in a stranglehold.

The guard looked up at Veronica’s frozen stance. “Who do you want more, bitch?” His voice reverberated throughout the small room. “Him?” He tightened his grip and I started gagging. “Or them? You can’t have both!”

The two chained prisoners watched helplessly. Veronica took a step toward me, and the grip tightened. But this vampire didn’t know me very well. Or Veronica either, for that matter. Nobody told me what I could or couldn’t have. Except God, perhaps. But I didn’t have time to think about my son. This vampire had a hold on me, but if I could just move a little, either the silver knife or the gun would do it.

“
I’ll snap his neck!” the guard threatened.

“
No, you won’t.” Veronica was vibing now, the room electrified. That’s the only way I can describe it. She locked eyes with the one who held my life in his hands and she didn’t waver.

“
You would unleash her?” he hollered. “She is the devil!”

“
You know,” Veronica’s tone was dead serious now, and she inched forward a little, eyes bearing down on the vampire, “I was a little hesitant at first. Just helping my buddy here. But look at what you’ve done. Look!” She gestured at the two prisoners but her gaze never left him. “She is no devil,” Veronica spat. “It is you who do evil here. Anyone who does this,” she jerked her head, “deserves the same. There is no torture more horrible than this! And you know it.”

Veronica was concentrating hard now. Thought manipulation was more difficult with a vampire than a human, I suspected. But she was making progress. She held his gaze and his hold on me loosened a little. That was all I needed. I slammed my foot down behind me, drawing all my strength to turn over. I grasped the rifle to edge it between him and me. He hissed and raised himself up. I fumbled to get the gun pointed at him.

But I didn’t need to. Quick as lightning, Veronica slung her knife across the room and into his chest. The four of us watched as he died and wisped away in surprise.

Chapter Fifteen

We were alive. Well, some of us were more alive than others.

I visually scaled Veronica’s body quickly to make sure she was unharmed. Her wench costume was in tatters, and she was splattered with blood, but none of it was hers.

We faced the two in chains. I knew Veronica couldn’t help me. In fact, she backed away, a look of sickness now on her face.

“I’m going to have to shoot those chains off,” I said to Natassa.

“
Release him first!”

I regarded my client curiously. He was young, at least he’d been young when he’d turned. But he also gave the impression of being an extremely wise vampire. I shook my head. Maybe I was finally going crazy.

“Now! Please!” Natassa begged as her eyes caught his with a passion I’d never before seen in my life.

I positioned myself between the two of them. Natassa moved as far away as her chains would allow. Veronica was crouched in the corner now, still looking nauseous, but her intense gaze never left me. I took aim and fired, and he dropped limply to the ground.

I tried not to cut him any more than I had to, removing the spiked wire off from his wrists. Veronica rose now, and as she approached him, I tossed away the silver.

I was both surprised and repulsed as Veronica offered this vampire her wrist and he bit into it. She was nourishing him. I tried not to look. I felt a combination of revulsion and a bit of erotica. The slight pain she felt mixed with his hunger. I forced my concentration toward freeing Natassa.

She had more chains and it took longer. The guy drank only enough to regain some strength and he and Veronica watched as I meticulously removed the silver barbed wire that was digging into Natassa’s body. It must have been excruciatingly painful, but she didn’t utter a sound as I worked. Finally, there was only the iron mask. Iron and silver.

The mask was locked at the base of her neck. My client, her lover, I assumed, came close enough to take her hand. She held on tight as I drew out my lock picks once again. It probably didn’t take too long but it seemed an eternity.

Suddenly...click. The moment had come. I slipped off the lock and the silver welding snapped apart. I sat back for a moment. We were all on the floor. It should be Natassa who took off her mask. She looked at us for the last time, fearlessly, through the metal that covered her face.

She raised her hands to the back of her head and slowly removed the mask. I thought her hair would be tangled and she would look ghastly. But we all gasped as she showed her face for the first time in God only knew how long.

The mask fell to the floor with a clank. She looked down at it only for a moment, kicked it away, dismissing it. She didn’t look at us, not even at the man holding her hand. Eyes closed, she ran her delicate fingers through deep auburn hair. Slowly, luxuriously, she let it fall gracefully about her shoulders. Then she put her hands to her face: her eyes, deep-set cheeks, nose, lips, and finally to the black scar across her right temple. Somehow, the dark mark enhanced her ageless beauty.

She opened her eyes to us and smiled a little. My client could contain himself no longer. He pulled her close, they embraced. He was crying now. It was she who comforted him.

“Guillaume, my love,” she said softly.

I looked away. Waited for the private moment to pass. Natassa let go of Guillaume and faced us for the first time. She was incredibly beautiful, despite the nasty scar.

“Thank you,” she said to me.

I waved a hand. “Piece of cake.” Veronica smiled.

“I knew you could do it,” Guillaume said.

I frowned at him. “You’re my client.”

“Yes.”

I considered belting him a good one. He knew more than he’d let on when he hired me. He’d almost gotten me killed.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I needed help.”

“
Would have been a lot easier had I known what I was getting into.”

“
But you might not have taken the case.”

I considered this. “Perhaps not.”

“We will compensate you for the...difficulties,” Natassa declared. I tried again to place her accent.

I sighed. It didn’t really matter. I had done my job. “We might want to get out of here.”

Natassa put her hand on mine. “Wait.” She closed those striking eyes again, and I felt a ripple run through me at her touch.

“
I have a gift for you.”

What could she possibly give to me?

“Relief. Freedom. You’d like this?”

Another mind reader. “It depends.”

Veronica nudged me. “Take the gift.”

Chapter Sixteen

Natassa motioned for me to follow her.

She didn’t turn back as we left the room. She carried herself like a queen, a force to be reckoned with. We ascended the stairs. As we approached the ground floor, she tensed. In a flash, she drew herself up, showing a fierceness I wouldn’t have believed possible in one so beautiful. Her eyes darkened. In one motion she swept me behind her and, covering her hand with her sleeve, drew my knife out of my belt.

Not a second later, another vampire rounded the corner, baring his teeth. He came at Natassa full speed. She never wavered. She raised a hand and took a deep breath. She blew, and a gust of audible wind hit him, slowing his pace. The vampire’s mouth opened in surprise as he was forced to a stop. Natassa quickly flew to him and drove the knife straight into his heart. I watched as yet another vampire met his death and vanished into the night, and the knife dropped to the floor.

She was still now, listening, probing the area. I was frozen in disbelief. I’d just witnessed a woman, a vampire, who should have been incredibly weak from being chained in silver, kill like the warrior she obviously was.

Her gaze fell upon me and her face softened as she lowered her guard. “You have no reason to fear me, Spinoza.”

I nodded.

“
This place is empty now. Come.”

We made our way to the stables. As we neared him, the huge black horse recognized her. He reared up in joy and rushed to the front of his stall. Natassa glanced at the lock separating them and it clicked open. The gate opened and she strode in. She reached her arms around his massive neck. He nuzzled her ever so gently.

I didn’t know what this was all about, but I hoped the gift wasn’t the horse. I knew Veronica and Guillaume were outside preparing a trailer for him, but I didn’t know his destination.

Natassa laughed now, a lilting musical tone that could easily mesmerize someone. Like me, maybe. I was glad I’d accomplished the task of freeing her, but I was still in awe and a bit wary.

She whispered something into the horse’s ear. He whinnied. Then she faced me. “This beast is bonded to me,” she said. “But not even I can choose to give him away.”

The horse snorted in agreement.

“What has this got to do with me?”

“
Nothing. I wanted to see him, that’s all. We share a connection.”

I waited. For my “gift.” Natassa wasn’t the least concerned that someone would find us, but I was more than a little anxious to get out of there. I’d retrieved my two rifles, and I wanted to leave. But I waited for Natassa. I had no idea what this was about or what was coming. If I had known, I might have prepared myself. Or at least tried.

She gently kissed the great beast above the nose, and then took my hand. “Come.”

We made our way to an empty stall. She settled herself on the clean, hay-covered ground and gestured to me. I sat Indian-style across from her.

“Closer,” she whispered. I complied. She took my hands into her own cold ones, and once more closed her eyes. Again, I felt a shiver run through my body. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

“
You have endured much sorrow.”

She was talking about my wife, my son. “Yes.”

“Your boy haunts you.”

I tensed. Tried to pull my hands away, but she tightened her grip. “Listen...” I began, but she interrupted me.

“Don’t speak.”

I didn’t like this. It was none of her business. I’d done my job. She was free now.

“But you are not free,” she countered. “I can help you, and your son, if you so choose.”

The memory of my son burning to death came to me, now with an electrifying jolt that was more powerful than any of my nightmares. I saw him, heard his agonizing screams as I watched, helpless. I cried out, myself in pain now, but she didn’t let go of my hands.

“Spinoza. Your son is here. What would you say to him?”

The temperature in the stall dropped. Natassa opened her eyes, urging me on. I really, really did not want do this. Whatever “this” was.

“Look!” she commanded. Just beside us, a human form started to materialize. I gasped at my nine-year-old son. He did look like a spirit, but he was actually sitting next to us.

My beautiful boy. No charred hands, no burning body. My son, my son.

“He is asking to speak with you. He cannot do so except through me.”

I could barely find my voice. “My permission?”

“Yes. This may be your only chance. I ask you again. What would you say to him?”

“
I would say...I’m sorry. So sorry.” My son held my gaze. My sweet son, who used to laugh with me, ask questions, smile up at me as if I were the answer to the world’s problems. My son, who trusted me with his life. A trust I betrayed.

He wasn’t smiling now though. He was close to tears. I realized tears were pouring down my own cheeks.

I wasn’t prepared for this. Not this, never this. My boy sitting beside me. After six years. He should be fifteen, but he was still nine.

“
Speak now, or not at all.” Natassa was in a trance now, her deep violet eyes focused inward. Still, she gripped my hands.

“
I’m sorry. So terribly sorry,” I croaked.

Natassa’s hair rustled as though blown by unseen wind. “He does not want you to be sorry.”

I could hardly get words out. I couldn’t take my eyes off my son, who nodded slightly.

“
But I killed you...” I said, or tried to say. Truth was, I was having a hard time forming words.