A Kiss of Blood: A Vamp City Novel (8 page)

She tried, willing the power to fly, but nothing happened. And she was still shaking.

He gripped her jaw as the other vampire had, though not enough to hurt her. “Think of all the times I lied to you,” he said harshly. “Remember how I delivered you to my master knowing he would hurt you. I stood there and watched him hurt you, Quinn, and did nothing to help.”

His voice ached with regret, but the memory was too fresh, too raw, and he was right. She wanted to hurt him for it, dammit. She needed to make him pay for what he’d done.

The fury rose slowly, melding with the power fighting to escape. She slammed her hands against Arturo’s chest, pouring her anger into him. And suddenly, he was gone, the power tearing through her fingertips. And then she was flying back, too, slamming into the hard ground, burning alive on a backdraft that tore through her body, making her cry out from the agony.

“Quinn!”

As she lay in the dirt, gasping for air, cool, gentle fingers stroked her head. “You’re hurt.”

The wind knocked out of her, she gasped for air, but the power was already draining away. “Are my eyes . . . ?” She blinked them open and closed again.

“The glow is gone.”

She opened her eyes to find him bent over her, his face tight with concern.

“I’m fine, Vampire.” She sat up, stifling a groan, and reached behind her. “My gun.” It must have flown free when she landed. As she pushed to her feet, Arturo picked up something off the ground, her gun, and handed it to her.

Shoving it in her waistband, she looked at him with surprise. “You really trust me with this?”

“I ask you to trust me,
cara.
The least I can do is trust you in return.”

“
I’ve
made no promises not to hurt you.”

“You have not.” His expression was serious, but gentle. “You have honor in abundance, and I do not believe you’ll try to kill me unless I deserve it.”

She considered that. “There are times already when I’ve thought you deserved it.”

“I know. I am sorry,
tesoro.
”

And she believed he meant it. “How far did I send you flying just now?”

“A good twenty feet. That was quite a blast.”

She snorted. “Too bad I didn’t get to see you land.”

His mouth kicked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’d have enjoyed that, would you?”

“I would.”

His expression sobered. “The power caught you, too. You could have been hurt.”

“My power doesn’t like me.” As they started back toward the others, she glanced at him. “Vampire, do you think it’s possible that I caused the worlds to open this time?”

Silence. “Why do you ask?”

“I started shaking from the force of the power. The next thing I knew, the wagon started shaking, then the ground. It wasn’t until then that the hair rose on my arms, and I started to hear my world. Usually, the shaking comes last, not first.”

Her looked at her with fathomless eyes and shrugged.

Quinn lifted her brows. “It would seem that not only might I have the power to save your world. I might also be able to hasten its destruction.”

They returned to the wagon, and she and Zack resumed their captive pose. As the wagon bounced over the rutted terrain, questions bombarded her mind.
Had
she caused that last break in the worlds? It made a certain kind of logical sense that a sorceress’s power could affect the magic of a sorcerer-created world.

That kind of power could act as a potent threat to hang over the vampires’ heads should they ever consider betraying her again. Unfortunately, in truth it was just another factor of her magic that she couldn’t control. Every time the sunbeams broke through, Vamp City came a little closer to dying.

And now, it seemed, so did Zack.

Chapter Seven

Q
uinn lost track of time as the wagon continued on toward its unknown destination, Arturo and Micah once more disappearing into the darkness. The ride made her teeth clack until she finally locked her jaw against the jostling. With her power dissipated, she felt fine again, at least.

As they started down a dead-tree-lined path, she turned and peered between the seated Traders, able to make out some kind of dark structure against the moonlit sky. Was this their destination? It appeared quite small and unassuming though unassuming wasn’t a bad quality for a hideout.

As they drew near, she realized the house wasn’t as small as she’d first thought. It was, in fact, a small mansion. Lights shone faintly from around the edges of almost all the windows, behind curtains or shades of some kind. She had some time to absorb the true size of the place as the wagon slowly circled the house. In the back jutted a small, covered carport. What would they have called it in 1870? Portico, maybe. It would provide protection against the rain and some measure of privacy to those coming and going.

The Traders drove the wagon under the portico roof and far enough through that Quinn and Zack would alight from the back in that covered, protected space. As the wagon came to a lurching stop, the back door of the house opened, illuminating the space in a swath of low, warm light. A man stood silhouetted in the doorway, a tall man with broad shoulders and what appeared to be long jet-black hair tied at the nape of his neck. His features remained in shadow.

“Did you meet with any trouble?” the man asked, his accent faintly Middle Eastern.

“Vamps from York’s kovena tried to abscond with our slaves,” the smaller of the Traders said as the pair alighted from the wagon. “Until Arturo threatened Cristoff’s wrath.”

The man grunted. “Serves them right.”

Quinn pulled her hands from the loose ropes and followed Zack as he scooted from the back of the wagon. As they approached the door, the man stood back, inviting them in with a smile and a flourish.

“Welcome.”

When Zack started forward, Quinn grabbed his arm. “We’ll wait for Arturo and Micah.”

The man lifted a brow, his smile fading to a look of understanding. “They’ll be arriving momentarily, but not through this door. Guests come to the front. It would seem odd to anyone watching if they were to enter this way.”

The larger of the Traders started for the door. “Only Traders and slaves use the back.”

“Those we wish to appear to be slaves,” the man said quietly. “Come inside, sorceress. You will be safe here, I promise. And safer inside than out.”

Quinn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started forward. Zack followed. As she stepped into the house, the man turned to the side to allow them entrance, revealing an intriguing face. His bone structure was strong and attractive, his eyes tilted slightly, with a shape that spoke of a hint of Asian ancestry, except that they were as blue as a clear summer sky. In those eyes, she saw no cunning, no cruelty, just a wealth of curiosity and intelligence.

“I’m Neo,” he said, his voice as deep and rich as his skin tone, his mouth tilting up into a hint of a smile.

“Quinn. But you knew that.”

His smile widened, reaching his eyes in a way that had surely slain more than a few feminine hearts. “I did.” He ushered them into a back room that appeared to be at once storage room and office, a desk on one wall piled with paper and ledgers and books. She wondered what kind of paperwork could possibly be needed in Vamp City, where everyone appeared to simply take what they wanted. “We shall wait here for your friends.”

“Are you a vampire?” Zack asked Neo, a hint of challenge in his tone that surprised Quinn.

Neo met his gaze, then gave a small nod. “I am. But perhaps not the kind you’re used to meeting here.”

“
I’m
intrigued,” Quinn murmured. “Exactly what kind are you?”

Humor lit his eyes. “The good kind. I was brought to V.C. as a slave in 1973 and turned into a vampire eight years later. But I have never lost my conscience. Nor have I ever accepted what I am.” He shrugged. “I did not choose to be turned and have not forgotten what it’s like to be a slave. Nor have I ever forgiven the Traders and vampires who stole my life from me at the age of twenty-two.”

His vehemence surprised her and rang convincingly true. Was it possible for a vampire to continue to identify with his human origins even after he was turned?

“Yet you work with Traders.”

“They are not the ones who stole me off the streets of D.C. And you will learn, Quinn Lennox, not all Traders are the same. Just as all vampires are not. Nor humans, for that matter.”

“How do you feed?” she asked him.

“Blood and fear.”

“You don’t act like a fear-feeder.”

His mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile. “I feed quite adequately on those who already fear. I’ve no need to cause it.”

“Then you’re an anomaly around here from what I’ve seen.” She cocked her head as she studied him. “If what you say is true.”

He watched her steadily, then shrugged. “I have no need to lie to you. I am who I am, sorceress. You will have to accept help from some in this world if you are to survive. But accepting help is not trusting, not entirely. Trust is something that must be earned.”

She couldn’t have said it better.

Voices in the hallway had her glancing at the open door as Arturo appeared, Micah close behind him. Relief snaked its way through her, easing her mind, if only a little. She might still have walked into a trap, but her instincts told her that wasn’t the case, that she and Zack really were safe here. As safe as they could be anywhere in Vamp City.

“Come,” Neo said, and started toward the door. “I wish for the others to meet our guests.”

Arturo motioned for her to precede him, and she did, Zack behind her. Neo led them down a narrow hallway, through a comfortable-looking living room, and into a library lined with bookshelves. One set of shelves had been opened like a door, revealing a long, wide staircase leading down into a well-lit basement. She wondered what the trick was to opening the hidden door, then decided Neo had intentionally not revealed it to them.

Arturo started down the stairs first this time, Quinn and Zack behind him. They were less than halfway down the long stair when she heard something heavy and creaking behind her and looked back to find Neo closing the bookcase. She supposed that was a good thing. If anyone got inside the house who didn’t belong, they’d have trouble finding the way down here.

The question was, if she needed to, would she be able to find the way out?

The room that came into view was large and open, and surprisingly inviting, dotted with leather sofas and chairs of various sizes. In the center sat a large oval table upon which a small feast had been laid out—platters of small sandwiches, cheese and crackers, raw vegetables and dip, and a host of what appeared to be tiny cheesecakes.

Behind her, Zack made a sound of appreciation.

Two women stood beside the large table, one of whom appeared to be of the Trader race, her shoulders as broad as a linebacker’s, her face wide, her eyes glowing bright orange.

The other woman was petite and pretty, with long, wavy dark hair that glowed with the phosphorescence that marked her as an immortal human, or Slava.

To Quinn’s surprise, both women smiled and moved forward to greet Arturo warmly, each getting a kiss on the cheek from the vampire in return. Arturo turned, gripping Quinn’s shoulder lightly.

“This is Quinn Lennox, though you’ll have to wait until Micah’s glamour wears off before you’re able to see her true likeness.”

“This is Mukdalla,” he said, motioning toward the Trader female.

The Trader smiled and reached for Quinn’s hand. “It is my pleasure, sorceress. You are most welcome here.” Quinn had thought the woman homely at first glance, but the wisdom radiating from her eyes and the warmth of her smile had Quinn reassessing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mukdalla.”

Mukdalla’s glance slid from Zack to Quinn, and back again. “Siblings? You have the same eyes.”

Quinn sighed. She was glamoured, for heaven’s sake, and still the woman saw the resemblance. She’d learned the hard way that it was not in Zack’s best interest to be revealed as her brother. Loved ones could be used against you too easily in this place. But it seemed that he’d been revealed anyway.

“My brother, Zack.”

“Hello, Zack,” Mukdalla said kindly.

Arturo nodded to the other woman. “This is Dr. Amanda Morris.”

“Just Amanda, please.” The woman extended her hand, shaking Quinn’s, then Zack’s. “In my old life, I was a family practitioner.”

“You still have a practice,” Neo said behind them. “It’s just changed a bit.”

Amanda snorted. “You might say that.” Her gaze returned to Zack, peering at him a little too long and in a doctorlike way that had Quinn tensing. “I was captured several years ago, escaped my master about a year later, then was captured and bought by Cristoff.”

Quinn winced. “I’m sorry.”

Amanda’s gaze met hers. “I’m not. Kassius kept me away from the house and, upon learning that I was a doctor, had me brought here.” She looked back at Zack. “I’d like to do a brief examination of you, Zack, if you’ll allow it.”

Zack eyed her warily. “What kind of exam?”

Amanda’s voice warmed. “I just want to check your temperature and take a quick look at your eyes.”

Quinn’s gaze sharpened. “Why are his eyes silver like that? He’s not . . . ?” The thought made her stomach clench. “He’s not turning Slava already, is he?”

“Not Slava, no. Only the hair glows once we turn Slava.” She held up her hand, her expression kind. “Let me grab my things. I’d like to do my examination before I offer a prognosis.”

As the doctor hurried off, Neo ushered them forward. “Have a seat and help yourselves to the food. We have much to discuss.”

“What is this place?” Quinn asked.

Arturo pulled out a chair for her. “Sit,
cara.
”

She did, and the others took their seats around the table, Arturo on one side of her, Zack on the other.

“I do not easily give up my secrets, sorceress.” Neo shrugged. “But perhaps if we trust you with our secrets, you will find it easier to trust our motives in return.” He glanced at Mukdalla.

The Trader female nodded and turned to Quinn, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. “Most vampires and Traders capture humans and bring them into Vamp City. Neo and I have made it our life’s work to funnel as many of them back out again as we can.”

Quinn stared at her, then at Neo. In their eyes, she saw a passion, a crusader’s zeal for a cause they believed in. She turned to Arturo. “Weren’t you the one who told me a vampire might play with his food but he never sets it free?”

His brows flicked upward and down again. “I told you many things that I did not necessarily believe.”

“So you set people free?”

“I help where I can. As you can imagine, there are many who would destroy Neo’s operation were they to learn of it. We must be very careful not to draw attention to the work done here.”

She stared at him, feeling as if she were seeing him for the first time. So many untruths and half-truths hiding facets of the male. Facets that her instincts had recognized. She’d trusted him too many times because of that, because despite his glibness, she’d sensed honor in him. And maybe she hadn’t been entirely wrong after all.

“At one time,” Neo told her, “our work was far less than it is now. Before the magic began to fail, many of the humans brought into Vamp City against their will were the miscreants—the murderers and rapists and wife-beaters. The drug addicts and gangbangers. Those we will never free back into D.C. society. The humans would not thank us if we did. But now, with the magic failing, those who trolled for the human dregs are trapped here and can no longer hunt for them. As the city crumbles, the demand for blood grows, and the consciences of the vampires who need it disintegrate. The Traders grab whomever they can, and many of the vampires who once cared do no longer.”

“Neo and I run an underground railroad to free as many of the innocents as we can,” Mukdalla continued. “Amanda treats the injuries many of the fresh slaves arrive with. We feed them, heal them both physically and mentally, stealing their memories of this place, then smuggle them out in Traders’ carts.”

“Those who’ve not yet turned Slava. Those who can still escape,” Quinn clarified.

“Yes.”

Quinn glanced at Arturo, and she found him watching her, his eyes dark and deep.

Amanda returned, claiming her attention as Zack swiveled in his chair to face her. The doctor pulled a thermometer out of her doctor’s bag and slid the nodule into his ear. When it beeped, she removed it, then grabbed her penlight and flicked it into first one eye, then the other.

“How are you feeling, Zack?” she asked, putting the light back in her bag.

“Fine.”

“Only for the last few hours,” Quinn qualified. “He had no energy or appetite until we brought him back to V.C.”

“How long have you been ill?”

“I don’t know. A week.”

“He was fine when we left Vamp City ten days ago. At least I think he was. But he spent several days in Pennsylvania and started feeling dead tired almost immediately.”

Amanda listened, nodding. “His temperature is over 101.”

Quinn frowned. “I thought he was better.”

“He’s feeling better, from what you describe. Which is not unusual with magic poisoning.”

Her stomach sank. He wasn’t well. Not yet.

“I feel fine,” Zack repeated.

The doctor nodded. “And you’ll probably continue to. Once the magic of V.C. is renewed, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She moved around the table, taking a seat beside Mukdalla. But her gaze flicked to Zack, the small creases between her eyebrows telling Quinn there was more she wasn’t saying. And it wasn’t good.

Her stomach tightened.

“Let’s get started,” Neo said. “We have much to discuss.”

Clenching her jaw against the need to question the doctor further, Quinn forced her attention on Arturo as he began to fill the others in on the situation—that she was the only sorcerer the vampires had found who might be able to renew the magic. That he believed she had power but that she could not access most of it and could not control what she could. He told them what he’d told her, that his plan was for her to renew the magic without Cristoff’s being the wiser. That her life and theirs depended upon it.